Phoenix Rising

by RequiemForSanity

Summary:

Abandoned by her family and branded a mentally unstable liar, Sarah found herself drowning in a sea of darkness and regret. With Sarah's grip on reality slowly loosening, will Jareth push past his wounded pride and be the one to bring her back life?

*Re-write of previously uploaded Lazarus*

Notes:

This is a re-write of my previous work 'Lazarus' with the good intention of providing a more concise style of writing and some added/modified content.

Grammar continues to be the death of me however and I apologise in advance for mistakes!

Please let me know what you think.

Chapter 1: Of Dreams and Broken Things

Phoenix Rising 

 

The madness of love is the greatest of heaven's blessings…

          

Sarah aimlessly stumbled through the dense forest of hemlock trees, her footfalls uncoordinated and clumsy as she navigated the beaten track. Stray twigs and dried leaves snapped and crunched beneath her feet. Hundreds of cicadas flexed their muscles and buckled their ribs, the resulting clicks producing an incessant buzzing throughout the forest. 

The buzzing seemed to pulsate, heightening in crescendo in time with the wild thrash of her heart and the heavy rhythmic thud of her feet. Sarah reached out in front of her and her fingers grasped at dead air. She could feel the drone of the hidden insects, their untraditional song was tangible, prickling the palm of her hand like a thousand invisible needles. She faltered on an unearthed rotting root and took a moment to catch her breath. Each greedy inhalation flooded her senses with the fragrant aroma of minty grass and the almost bitter, earthy scent of dirt.

Sarah braced her hands on her knees, her overexerted lungs burning with each ragged breath. An owl hooted overhead and her head snapped up, the resounding crack of jarred bone echoing through the trees. Sarah observed a flash of movement, a blur of white feathers darting from tree branch to tree branch. The owls' wings fluttered gracefully in the cool night air, rustling the lush green foliage sprouting from spindly tree branches. 

"Jareth," Sarah hollered, the force of her frantic shout straining her vocal cords as she sprinted down an unfamiliar path. Her eyes tracked the flashes of white breaking through the cracks in the emerald canopy, the owls intermittent hoots interspersed with the melodious song of fellow nocturnal birds hidden in the vast valley of trees.

"Jareth wait!" Sarah pleaded, her vision obscured by the mist of pooling tears. Unable to see where she was going due to the tears stinging her eyes and the shroud of darkness blanketing the forest around her, her foot became tangled in another unearthed tree root, and she felt herself unceremoniously rocketing towards the forest floor.

Sarah's arms flailed when her legs buckled leaving her sprawled on the floor, her limbs akimbo and mouth full of foliage.

"My, my, how the mighty have fallen," an articulate lilt drawled in her ears like the teasing caress of a lover's fingers and a rippling shiver ran full circuit throughout her body. 

Sarah pushed herself onto her knees, spluttering fragments of dry leaves and twigs as she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. "What is it that Einstein once said?" Jareth mused, tapping a slender finger against his chin. "Ah yes —the only thing more dangerous than ignorance is arrogance and you, child, have both in spades."

Sarah stared at the bewitching Goblin King, observing the self-important arch of his impeccably defined brow and the pitiless set of his thin, pale lips. White feathers speckled with burnt almond littered the floor by his feet, their pristine composition a stark contrast to the muted muddy colours of the earth where they lay. 

Jareth cut a striking figure, the ghostly shine of the moonlight bleeding through the trees casting his otherworldly features in an ethereal glow. "You want to speak about arrogance Goblin King?" Sarah stammered. "Isn't it arrogance that keeps you running from me?"

Jareth laughed bitterly and said, "no Sarah, it is rather contempt and my unforgiving nature that keeps me running from you as you call it. Personally, I call it evasive manoeuvres."

"Why do you refuse to hear me out?" Sarah hauled herself back onto her feet and took a step forward.

Jareth took a calculated step back. "Why would I be even remotely inclined to listen to the incessant drivel that spills from your mouth Sarah? If the tables were turned and it was I who stomped on your heart like it was nothing more than a wandering ant, would you want to hear me out?"

Sarah swallowed around the lump in her throat, despondently shaking her head. "No, I suppose I wouldn't," she admitted and Jareth held out his hands in a gesture as if to say, 'well there you are.'

"What is it you want Sarah?" Jareth sighed, his tone weary. The defensive rigidity in his shoulders slackened while his eyes —a perfect storm of sapphire blue and liquid obsidian— flickered with an emotion she couldn't place.

"I thought it would be over…" she said hesitantly. "I thought once I'd beat the Labyrinth and got Toby back that everything would go back to normal but it hasn't. I can't…" she chewed on her bottom lip. 

Her brows furrowed as she tried to find the right words to articulate how she felt. But her immature heart and foolish mind couldn't express what burned within her soul. "I can't stop thinking about you, about that look in your eyes when I told you that you had no—"

"Don't," Jareth croaked, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"What was done has passed and what was said is lost to the sands of time. Your fumbling attempts at… well whatever it is you're trying to say—" he waved his hand dismissively, "—are redundant."

"I'm trying to tell you I made a mistake, I didn't understand, I still don't I—"

Jareth scoffed. "There you are Sarah, you still don't understand! You just walk around with your head in the clouds and your nose in works of fiction. I'm not the work of an ooveractive imagination. I'm flesh, I'm bone and my heart bleeds like any other and I will not be so easily dismissed by such a pitiful creature as you."

Sarah's bottom lip trembled and Jareth's face became blurred by her tears. "Then help me understand!" she yelled, growing frustrated. 

"Help me understand what this ache means," she held her hand to her sternum. "Help me understand the want, the need, the… the… the regret!"

"I don't want to help you understand Sarah," the Goblin King averted his eyes. 

"I don't want to be stood here having this conversation. I don't want to look at the face of the one who destroyed the walls I'd so painstakingly built here," he tapped his temple. 

"You're an ingrate Sarah. A spoiled, whiny child with a penchant for throwing a tantrum and stamping her feet when things don't go her way. I was a fool to desire such a petulant girl."

"I'm not that girl anymore," Sarah argued, wiping her eyes.

"You expect me to believe that you've had such a drastic personality overhaul in the past five months?" Jareth chuckled humorlessly.

"Grow up Sarah." 

Sarah's mouth opened and closed but no words formed in the emptiness. 

"I believe we're done here," the Goblin King said coldly, turning his back on the weeping girl.

"Jareth, please…" Sarah pleaded, reaching for his arm.

Jareth's body stiffened and he spun to face her, grabbing her wrist in a punishing grip. "Leave me alone you foolish girl. Run home and re-enact your childish fantasies with your stuffed toys. I do not wish for you to speak my name. I do not wish to see you again. You were never nor will you ever be, befitting of my queen."

His eyes flashed with ire and if he didn't have a firm grip on her wrist she would have taken a voluntary step back. 

"You're a desperate, lonely little girl and unless you grow up, you're destined to lead a life of bitter disappointment. Forever to taste that acrid hint of regret on your tongue. Forget the Underground, forget the Labyrinth and forget me, for in my eyes, you're nothing but an unwanted memory and that's all you'll stay," he snarled, releasing his hold on her with a merciless shove.

Sarah staggered backward, tripping over her own feet to land ungraciously on her backside. She scrambled to her feet, turning in desperate circles searching for the Goblin King. "I'm sorry…" she whispered into the ether as she felt her heart shatter like a tumbling china vase.

---

Sarah woke with a start, her battered heart thudding a rhythm of anguish. Her soul wept silent tears of melancholy as the last remaining whispers of the dream whirled in the forefront of her mind. 

It had been almost three years since the Goblin King walked out of her life, leaving behind an ache in her soul and vivid memories buried within the deepest recesses of her mind. He'd left his mark on her heart and branded his effigy on her soul. And, no matter how hard she tried, the memories of his ethereal beauty and larger than life presence wouldn't fade. 

She bore the scars of his rejection on her skin and felt the niggling pain of his absence in every nerve. No amount of wishes would bring him back and calling his name until her voice was hoarse was futile. He'd meant what he'd said —a memory was all she'd remain to him and she wasn't even a fond one.

Jareth had been wrong in so many ways that night. One of which was his theory that if she didn't grow up, she'd end up leading a life of bitter disappointment and regret. 

Yet in actuality, she'd grown up with heartbreak and yearning leaving her mature beyond her years. She could still taste the aridity of regret, falling into a dark sense of disillusionment with how her life had fared. 

She bore the brands of naivety, the thin silvery pink lines a testament to her attempts to feel anything other than the all-encompassing pain. Of course she'd been foolish to believe that the fleeting sting of a razor blade and the momentary trickle of ruby red could relieve some of the agony she held inside. 

No, she knew it was a burden she'd have to bear for the rest of her life. 

She'd tried to speak about her turmoil in hope that someone could help her stave off the warring, volatile beasts of accusation and remorse that drunkenly staggered and stomped in her mind but all that it had brought was misdiagnosed schizophrenia and talk of paranoid delusions.

Sarah slumped back against lumpy pillows, overcome with fatigue. She turned her head to stare at the drab asylum white walls as devoid of beauty as she was of hope. Each crack and chip of paint a reflection of the fraying seams of her sanity. 

Her eyes landed on the drawing of the face that haunted her dreams. The meticulously etched charcoal lines illuminated by the pale light of the moon bleeding from behind the only windows faded lilac drapes. She knew every line, every crease and every wrinkle by memory alone. 

Unable to bear the memories, Sarah tore her eyes away from the image of the immortal king to stare at the ceiling instead, drawing starchy sheets up to her chin. 

She didn't belong here. She didn't deserve to be held prisoner like a caged bird. She didn't deserve to be labelled mentally unstable and cast among the forgotten souls rejected by society. She'd consistently told the truth, only to be told she was crazy. She'd repeatedly told of her heartbreak, of her lost love and the kingdom he heralded from, only to have pills rammed down her throat to keep her calm and sedate enough for so-called professionals to try and mould her mind into what they deemed normal.

Hatred for her step mother burned in every fibre of her being and the resentment and anger she felt towards her father smouldered like hot coals deep in her core. Rather than comfort their daughter during times of distress, they'd called her a liar and an attention seeking brat until finally, they'd sent her away, forcing her to remain locked away with all the other unwanted teenagers whose parents couldn't be bothered to soothe their pain. 

Mothers were by nature supposed to nurture while father's were supposed to protect. They weren't supposed to throw pills at the problem or toss their child aside when those pills didn't work. 

Of course the pills didn't work. She wasn't insane. Nor was she a pathological liar or a paranoid schizophrenic. She was a heart in chains. A soul entangled in the binds of her own regret and immaturity. 

Sarah felt lost —helpless— her hope dwindling with every passing day. Her soul wilting like the falling petals on the fabled beasts enchanted rose. She was no longer living, rather, she was merely existing and she longed for someone or something to pull her up from the depths of her misery. She longed to be resurrected like Lazarus or to rise from the ashes like the mythical phoenix. 

Sarah turned onto her side, toying with the edge of the sheet with a heavy sigh. 

She knew she wouldn't be that lucky —she never was.

Chapter 2: Jodie

Sarah stood by the window of her room —or prison cell as she saw it— absentmindedly thumbing the waistband of the unflattering, facility issued pants as she stared out at the early morning sky. 

Her eyes drifted to the dense forest that bordered the facility. The leaves of the black cherry and white oak trees had adapted to the change in season and their once lush green leaves were now the colours of a smokeless fire —vivid reds, fiery ambers and sunshine yellow. She watched their branches sway gently in the autumn breeze, their ashy trunks standing proud and tall like silent sentries in an endless climb towards the cloudless blue sky. 

Sarah sighed and stooped to lean her forehead against the sun-warmed glass. She trailed her finger over the aged wooden frame where the white paint was beginning to peel and reveal the almond skeleton beneath. She closed her eyes, imagining she could hear the whisper of rustling leaves while the gentle breeze tousled her hair with invisible fingers.

A loud knock on the door startled her out of her daydream and she turned to face the unwelcome intruder, frowning when an unfamiliar middle-aged woman bustled into the room. The lines on the woman's face etched the story of living a happy life and the beginning's of crow's feet spidering from the corners of her eyes regaled stories of laughter. 

The deep dimples in her cheeks portrayed the character of a woman who gave away smiles like they were charity and her warm, grey eyes projected silent comfort and assurance. "Good morning Sarah, I'm Caragh —I've been assigned as your new key worker," she said with a smile, flashing a set of pearly white teeth.

Sarah stared at the woman, her arms reflexively wrapping around her middle when Caragh's eyes drifted to the collection of drawings pinned to the wall of her room. "Did you draw these Sarah?" She said with an arched brow, impressed. 

"Where did you get your inspiration?"

Sarah swallowed, lowering her gaze while her bottom lip slipped between her teeth to chew. She wanted to respond with memories of her time in the Underground, of her interactions with the Goblin King and her friends. Hoggle with his fetish for all things shiny. Sir Didymus the eccentric fox and his noble steed Ambrosius and Ludo, the misunderstood beast. However, she'd buried that part of her in the deepest recesses of her mind —along with her desire to speak. 

If everyone thought everything that came out of her mouth was a lie, what was the point in trying? 

Sarah lifted her head to find her newly appointed key worker regarding her with a sad smile. "Maybe you can tell me another time," she offered gently. "For now, how about we go get you some breakfast?"

---

Sarah numbly worked her way through a slice of toast —bite, chew, chew, chew, swallow. There was no enjoyment in the practice. She no longer appreciated the way the lashings of butter softened the warm bread, its colour reminiscent of golden sand. She no longer enjoyed the pleasurable crunch when her teeth ground against the bread's hardened surface. Nor did she relish its doughy taste or the slightly salted, creamy texture of melted butter. 

Everyday life had become an endurance. It was a never ending cycle of pointless therapy sessions, three square meals and free time that she either spent in her room, or with her only friend in this hell-hole —Jodie. Jodie was her complete opposite. Jodie didn't let her circumstances turn her into a dried out husk like Sarah did. Rather, Jodie seized the day, broke the rules and challenged authority. 

Sarah had pretty much given up.

She was forcibly swallowing a mouthful of lukewarm orange juice when Jodie dropped onto the bench beside her with a hefty thud. "Hey Sarah, check it out," she whispered, elbowing her in the ribs to bring her attention to the contraband in her hand. 

Sarah frowned, casting her gaze to the battered packet of Marlboro's and emerald lifted to meet almond. "Where'd you get those?" 

"You know the security guard —Chase?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah well, we kinda have this thing going where we fool around and he slips me the good stuff," Jodie smirked, shaking the crumpled cigarette packet.

"Isn't that illegal in so many ways?" Sarah frowned, concerned that Chase was taking advantage of her friend.

"Who cares? I'm all for it. When you've been bounced from madhouse to madhouse all your life, you take any bit of comfort you can get," Jodie said with a shrug.

"I wouldn't consider mutual masturbation and sex to be a form of comfort," Sarah shook her head incredulously.

"That's because you've never had it," Jodie retorted pointedly and Sarah felt her cheeks flush. 

"Shit Sar, I didn't mean it in a bitchy way —look c'mon, let's go to our spot and I'll tell you what I mean over a nice toxic cancer stick, how's that sound, huh?"

"Alright," Sarah relented, pushing herself up from the table to follow Jodie out of the canteen and on towards the fire escape.

They managed to slip through the door to the stairwell undetected —which spoke volumes about the security of the place. Half of the staff there couldn't find their own asshole in the dark with two hands and a flashlight. 

The two friends stayed close as they descended the three flights of stairs to the basement and stepped through the unmanned door with a loud creak and a hushed curse. 

Sarah stumbled forward and jumped in fright when the door slammed behind them, leaving the two friends standing alone in the dark. Sarah's eyes fought to adjust to the darkness but it was useless, the darkness was like a thick wool blanket over her vision and she felt herself quickly rocketing towards a panic attack. 

The sound of the boiler gurgling and screaming to life had her heart hammering wildly in her chest. The random creaks and groans of the old rusting pipes hidden in the darkness made it feel like they weren't alone. Just as she teetered on the verge of hysteria, the bare bulb hanging from the cobwebbed ceiling hummed to life, illuminating the space that had only seconds ago felt threatening and malevolent.

"You OK Sarah? You look like you've seen a ghost," Jodie said, regarding her worriedly, her hand still hovering over the dusty light switch.

"I-I'm fine," Sarah stammered, wringing her hands. "I just hate the dark…" she swallowed, casting her gaze to the dirty concrete floor. 

Sarah felt immature —childish even— having such a compelling fear of the dark. She never used to be afraid of the dark —not until Irene locked her in the basement one night. Her step-mother claimed that she was no longer willing to listen to her step-daughters' well-woven lies. So she'd filled Sarah's mind with ideas of demons vying for her soul. Of monsters hidden in dark corners, lying in wait to feast on her flesh. 

Irene had claimed that it was a lesson in telling the truth. A lesson in the consequences of telling lies and a lesson in how lies can poison the mind and beckon insanity. 

If Sarah had been in her right mind at that time, she would have spent the night plotting all the ways she could seek retribution. However, Sarah hadn't been in her right mind —not even in her left mind— she was torn to pieces with grief. Her heart and spirit were broken and waging a constant war against looming depression. Forever fighting to climb out of the pit of despair she'd found herself in only to find herself back where she started with grazed knees and bloody fingernails. Hence, she'd spent the night cowering on the stairs with fear rendering her frozen, waiting for the dormant beast to rise.

"Yeah, I don't much like the dark either," Jodie said and motioned for Sarah to follow her to their hide-away —a small alcove hidden at the back of the basement by a wall of discarded plasterboard. 

Sarah gingerly lowered herself to the floor, grimacing when the coldness of the bare concrete seeped beneath her clothes to worm its way into marrow. Jodie on the other hand, kicked out her legs, crossing them at the ankles. Unfazed by the chill as she fished the crumpled pack of Marlboro's from the pocket of her pants. 

She emptied two thin white sticks and a small lime green lighter into the palm of her hand and wordlessly, held out a cigarette in offering. Sarah hesitantly accepted, trying not to flinch when the flame swayed in front of her face, heating the skin on her nose when Jodie held it to the tip of the cigarette pressed against her lips. 

The cigarette smouldered, its embers glowing orange in the dim light. Thin wisps of smoke lazily licked at the air and Sarah leant back against the wall, inhaling a lungful of caustic smoke, grounding herself with the subsequent burn in her lungs. 

"How come you only talk to me Sarah?" Jodie randomly asked, catching her off guard.

"You're the only one that believes me…"

"About Jar-"

"Don't say it," Sarah begged, rubbing her chest where the dull ache permanently resided. 

Jodie curiously tilted her head, her pretty features momentarily obscured by a plume of bitter blue-grey smoke. "What do you think will happen if I say it?" She said in challenge.

"Nothing—" Sarah sighed, "—and that's what I'm most afraid of."

"Why? Do you think I won't believe you anymore when he doesn't show up or something?"

"No," Sarah rolled the cigarette between her thumb and forefinger. "If you say it and nothing happens, it will only prove that no matter how much I want it, I'll never see him again and I'm not sure I can take the proof as well as the constant reminders up here," she tapped her forehead, drawing the cigarette back to her lips.

"I think I get it…" Jodie bit her lip, wiping at the dust that had settled by her knee. "I know you might not wanna hear this Sar but, maybe you should like, I dunno, move on? Maybe if you have someone to replace him, it won't hurt as much —even if it's just for comfort, you can't keep isolating yourself."

"You mean the kind of comfort you find in Chase?" Sarah scoffed.

"Why not?" Jodie countered, "You'd be surprised how comforting the attention can be. It's like, when he touches me or kisses me, it's my validation, you know?"

"Validation of what?"

"Validation that I'm still wanted —-that I'm still desired. This guy wants me. He wants my body, he wants my company. I dunno, it just makes me feel all warm and gooey inside, like a hug on the inside, you know? It feels good to feel something other than pain, Sar, and I'm sure you know plenty about that."

"Don't you ever get scared he's just using you?" Sarah said, scraping the cherry of her cigarette against the wall.

"Who said I'm not using him?" Jodie smirked. "It works both ways you know —we're both getting something out of it. He's getting his dick sucked and I'm getting some sweet contraband as well as some mind blowing sex. What's not to want?"

"You're seventeen Jodie, Chase is at least mid-twenties."

"You were fifteen when you met he who shall not be named, if he's immortal, how old do you think he is? Why is it wrong for me but right for you? A tad hypocritical don't you think?"

"It's different," Sarah frowned.

"How?"

"I don't know it just is," Sarah huffed, folding her arms under her breasts.

"Look, forget the controversy for a second and just think about how it would feel to have someone hold you. To tell you that you're beautiful and make you feel things you've never felt before. For those few minutes you're together, the pain is a whisper rather than an ear-piercing scream —don't you want that for yourself Sarah? Don't you think you deserve that?"

"No," Sarah swallowed. "I deserve to be reminded of what I did —of what I caused. No amount of sex or sucking dick is gonna erase the regret or fill the void he left behind." She could feel tears pool in her eyes and blinked, attempting to force them back. 

"I'm happy you've found someone to ease your pain Jodie but my pain is a part of me now… It's who I am and nobody's gonna change that."

"Except him right?" Jodie said bluntly and Sarah stifled the sob she could feel stuck in her throat. 

"Right…" she nodded, feeling herself drawn into her friend's arms while silent tears slowly rolled down her cheeks.

"I wish you'd stop torturing yourself Sarah. Surely what you think you did doesn't warrant such self-destruction." 

Sarah felt Jodie's ribs expand and retract, feeling the weight of her sigh blow passed her ear. Her friend pulled back to tilt Sarah's chin, bringing their eyes level. 

"You were fucking fifteen for fuck sake! How the fuck were you supposed to understand such mind-fucky concepts of fate or whatever? That lanky, old bastard should have known better than to put such a weight on your shoulders and as for him throwing a fit when he didn't get what he wanted —ha!" 

Jodie waved her arms in the air for dramatic effect. 

"Fuck him Sarah. Seriously, fuck that fairy fucker with the biggest, fattest dildo, right in his pretentious, royal ass!" 

Sarah's breath hitched in a half-laugh, half-sob. She understood the point that Jodie was trying to make and though it made perfect sense —she wasn't faultless. 

"I can see the wheels turning in there Williams," Jodie prodded her brow. "And one day, you'll join me in treason and condemn his immortal majesty to hell where he rightfully belongs!" 

Sarah very much doubted it. 

Chapter 3: Wherefore Art Thou Sarah?

Tactile, slender fingers gently ground down against tense shoulder muscles. "Your majesty, allow me to ease your tension..." the owner of the nimble fingers purred, curling around the king to ghost thin, pink lips across a taut chiselled jaw. 

Abruptly, an arm snapped up to grip the palace concubine's jaw and her lips froze, barely skirting the corner of the immortal king's mouth. Jareth shoved the fae woman harder than was necessary, sending her flailing backwards to the floor where she landed ungraciously, her head cracking with an audible thump against stone.

"Get out," he spat in disgust. The dazed and confused woman immediately stumbled out of the throne room and the king slouched in his throne, even more irritated than he'd been before the her arrival. 

With a despondent sigh, he pushed himself to his feet, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried and failed to stave off the headache he could feel building behind his eyes. Jareth paced the width of his throne room, the heavy clunk of his boots echoing in the stark silence. 

Growing tired of the incessant pacing, the Goblin King exhaled a frustrated breath and slumped back onto his throne, one foot firmly on the grey stone floor while the other hooked over the armrest. He dropped his head back against his shoulders with a groan and stared at the high ceiling, feeling anger and sorrow bubbling in his chest, all of which threatened to spill over in one big tidal wave of misery.

It had been almost three years since the day he'd left Sarah hunched on the forest floor sobbing, and not a day went by that his traitorous heart didn't ache for her. He could still recall the way her beautiful watery emerald green eyes had silently pleaded with him. Fat, salty tears had trickled down her petal soft cheeks to die on her plump raspberry red lips and he longed to know their secret —to feel them pressed against his mouth as they whispered sweet-nothings to his soul. 

He'd tried to forget her. He'd constantly reminded himself that she'd turned him down. That it was her who'd shattered both his heart and his dreams. That it was her who'd left him with nothing but the sting of rejection and a hot flush of shame that one such as he could be so easily rejected by a girl barely on the cusp of womanhood. 

Jareth was under no illusions that it was arrogance and an unfathomably bruised pride that had spurred his brutish behaviour that night in the forest. He knew he'd been much too harsh. She'd been trying to explain —albeit bumblingly— but all he'd done is mimic the same behaviour she'd first exhibited with him.

The Goblin King sighed and propped his head in his hand. How she turned his world, his precious thing... 

He'd tried to move on, filling the void she'd behind with palace concubines. He'd even been engaged for a very brief period which he'd called off after a few months, earning the scorn of not only the woman he'd dropped like hot coals but the surrounding kingdoms also. 

It wasn't that there was anything wrong with the woman per-se. She was a fellow monarch —daughter of the Elven King and Queen— and he couldn't deny that she was quite alluring with her waist length rose-gold hair and soft lilac eyes but she wasn't Sarah —his Sarah.

Once Jareth had silenced the caterwaul of his dented ego, he'd found himself wishing he'd listened to what she had to say that night. He could see she was struggling to make sense of new, unexperienced adolescent feelings and he'd disregarded her with harsh words and unfiltered ire. 

Jareth wasn't a fool, he'd known she was too young back then —too old to turn, too young to keep— but he hadn't been able to stop himself from falling for her. The lure of her brazen personality, her undeniable beauty and her naïve heart had called to him like the melodic song of the Siren. 

He himself had awoken something inside her, something that lay dormant in every sentient being. A fire deep in each individual soul that started with a spark before morphing into a raging inferno —a fire that could only be tamed by the one that stoked the flames. Sarah was the one for which the fire within him burned for. Her voice, her eyes and those seductively curved lips all served as bellows, fuelling the flames of shameless need.

Jareth drummed slender fingers against the arm of his throne with a frustrated exhale. A flick of a graceful wrist conjured a crystal and he threaded the glass orb through deft fingers, the familiar weight rolling over the back of his hand. 

The Goblin King licked parched lips, feeling as though he'd swallowed a handful of sand. He cleared his throat, piercing blue eyes trained on the reflective surface of the crystal where his own haunted expression stared back at him almost mockingly. "Show me Sarah," he croaked, her name eliciting a pleasurable shiver that ran the full length of his spine. Admittedly, for a second, he allowed himself to wonder whether her inquisitive fingertips tracing hesitant patterns on his bare skin would provoke a similar reaction.

The immortal king stared into the crystal as it began to darken. A dark grey mist swirled in its midst with streaks of violet and flashes of crimson slowly joining the foggy mass. Jareth frowned when after a few minutes, the mist remained and the face of his lost love was nowhere to be found. 

"Show me Sarah," he repeated a little more forcefully, leaning forward in his seat, his heart drumming an unsteady rhythm. 

Once again, nothing happened and the pesky metaphorical rock lodged itself in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong. Why couldn't he see her? "Show me Toby," he changed tactics, hoping that perhaps it was just a fluke and that he'd find Sarah frolicking with her younger brother. 

The fog within the crystal started to clear and the image of a blonde haired, blue.eyed boy appeared. His toothy smile was innocent and his eyes alight with mischievous wonder. Toby was sat on the floor of his room building with multi-coloured blocks with the old tatty bear Jareth recognised as Lancelot —one of Sarah's childhood treasures— by his side.

"Show me Robert and Irene," he ordered as the feeling of discontent rapidly built in crescendo. 

The image of Toby faded to be replaced by the reflection of Sarah's parents. The husband and wife were sat —the embodiment of relaxation— huddled on a couch, sipping from glasses of wine with serene smiles on their faces. 

"Show me Sarah," Jareth tried desperately, only for the crystal to turn the same foggy grey —the streaks of violet more vivid than before.

The crystal slipped from between slack fingers and vanished with an audible pop before it hit the floor. Jareth palmed his forehead, wracking his brain for a logical explanation for such an anomaly but his questions remained unanswered. 

What if something had happened to her? 

What if his love had perished? 

What if the words dancing on the tip of his tongue would forever remain unsaid? 

What if she'd spent the last three years believing that he hated her? 

Jareth groaned into his hands, he couldn't sit here and torture himself with the what if's and maybe's, he had to see for himself —he had to know just what the hell was happening.

---

The Goblin King wore a confused frown as his eyes roamed the empty room. Well, it wasn't empty in the sense of a lack of furnishing, rather, it was empty in the sense of being devoid of any sign of life. 

He strolled to the vanity where Sarah's treasured possessions once resided. Where odds and ends, make-up and hair-ties once lay haphazardly scattered over the white painted surface there was now a thick blanket of undisturbed dust. His reflection distorted in a mirror rife with unpolished streaks and forgotten fingerprints. Jareth looked back over his shoulder and noted that the shelves once housing Sarah's stuffed toy collection were now also bare and gathering dust. Her bed was stripped of comfort, leaving only a mattress bearing stains of a teenager's rebellion behind. 

He turned in a slow circle, feeling his intestines coil into one big knot. He could no longer sense her. He could no longer scent the intoxicating perfume of her blood —a sweet, mouth-watering combination of spiced peaches and vanilla. There was only the musty odour of age, unventilated air and a lingering stench of despair. 

She was gone. 

"Where are you Sarah?" he whispered into the ether, running his fingers through his hair.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Goblin King spotted a stack of boxes piled in the closet with its door ajar. He silently strode across the room, noiselessly scooping up the top box to take it to the bed and set it down on the mattress. 

Jareth pulled back the flaps and swallowed, his throat narrowed with mixed emotions when his eyes landed on a familiar red, leather bound book. The books pages were yellowed with age and its corners dog-eared, creased by the fingers that eagerly thumbed through its pages. He gingerly picked up the relic, running his fingers over its smooth surface to feel ripples of magic roll over him in one big wave of static. 

Jareth held onto the book and set the box back in its place. He crept over to the bedroom door, straining his ears to listen to the sounds of the house. He could hear her family downstairs, laughing and joking like his precious Sarah had never existed. He felt his hackles rise while indignant anger burned him from the inside out —he wasn't leaving here until he got answers.

---

The fae king smoothed the lapels of a charcoal grey blazer and straightened his tie before slicking back mousy brown hair with trembling fingers. He knew what he was doing was a risk but he was confident that his glamour was convincing enough to fool Sarah's parents into believing the tale he'd spun —masquerading as Sarah's old English teacher. 

He cleared his throat —his mouth felt drier than his advisor's sense of humour— and purposely ascended the porch steps to knock on the front door. The sound of muffled voices and shuffled footsteps joined the rapid crescendo of his heart as the front door swung open and Sarah's stepmother greeted him with an unassuming smile. "Hello, can I help you?" she said cheerily, her voice grating on him like nails on a chalkboard.

"Good evening. I'm terribly sorry to bother you at such an hour but I was wondering if this was the residence of Miss Sarah Williams?" He drawled, flashing his teeth.

"Oh… well… who's asking?" The woman stammered, squirming in place and her signals of discontent caused alarm bells to ring in Jareth's mind.

"I do apologise, I should have properly introduced myself," he said with a self-deprecating smile, "I'm Gareth King —Sarah's old English teacher. I moved out of town a few years ago and myself and the wife drove up for a visit. I perhaps a little misguidedly, thought I'd drop by to see how my former star pupil was doing?"

He held his hand out in offering.

"Irene Williams," she smiled, hesitantly shaking his outstretched hand. "I'm afraid Sarah doesn't currently live here…"

"Oh? Flown the nest already? I always knew that girl would go places." 

"Not exactly," Irene cast her eyes over his shoulder. "Perhaps you should come in, I'd rather not speak about family business on the door step, this place is rife with gossips."

"I don't want to impose Mrs Williams," he frowned, feigning sensitivity to her feelings when in all honesty, all he wanted to do was shake her until she told him where his Sarah was and why they'd seemingly erased all memory of her.

"No, no, it's no bother. Please, come in," she gestured for him to enter the house, her eyes still trained on the street. 

Jareth graciously stepped inside, following Irene down the hall and through a wide archway into the sitting room. "Robert honey, this is Gareth King, Sarah's old English teacher. He's visiting town and wanted to swing by and see how she was doing," she said, her tone overly chipper.

"Robert Williams, Sarah's father," Robert rose from the couch, his hand outstretched.

"Gareth," Jareth smiled tightly, trying to hide the tension in his body.

"Please, take a seat, I'll fix us some tea," Irene smiled, stepping out of the room. 

"Beautiful home you have here," Jareth said, despising that he had to exchange false pleasantries with such a weasel of a man.

"Thank you," Robert smiled, taking a seat in the recliner while Jareth perched on the end of the couch. "Where is it you're visiting from?"

"Salem, Massachusetts," he replied off the top of his head. It was the one place in the Overground that he'd thought about visiting. Its forestry was simply enchanting and admittedly, he was intrigued by its dark history. 

Roberts eyes flickered, the muscle in his jaw flexing as his teeth ground together and his body grew rigid. Jareth had the good grace to pretend he hadn't noticed Mr William's adverse reaction and instead took interest in a bald spot on the carpet —it was much more riveting than the man himself.

Irene bustled back into the sitting room holding a tray of tea and biscuits. The clatter of the tray against the coffee table was almost deafening in the stiflingly, oppressive silence. Jareth accepted a cup of tea with a false smile, not trusting that the witch of a woman hadn't slipped in a quart of poison. 

"So, you used to teach Sarah English, Mr King?" Irene was the first to break the silence.

Jareth set the dainty china cup on the coffee table, plastering on a charming smile. "Yes, I remember Sarah fondly. She had a marvellous imagination, one of the best. I recall she had an aspiration to become an actress and a playwright. I do hope she chose to pursue this path, it would be a shame to let such talent go to waste."

Robert scoffed. "Imagination, is that what you call it? I call it delusion."

"Robert," Irene warned, shooting her husband a firm glare.

"I'm sorry, I don't follow?" Jareth said with a frown, tempering the anger he could feel bubbling in his chest. 

How dare he insult Sarah in such a derogatory way.

"I'm afraid Sarah was not the girl you thought she was," Irene sighed, setting her empty cup back on the serving tray. 

"She was a compulsive liar, Mr King. Her paranoid delusions pretty much tore this family apart. She fell into a state of hysteria, forever rambling about some Goblin King and a Labyrinth…"

A lump of guilt lodged in his windwipe —had his behaviour towards her broken his Sarah? "Hysteria?" 

"Yes, she wouldn't stop talking about this fabled king. She even tried to tell us he'd kidnapped her younger brother Toby and she'd had to escape some magical Labyrinth to get him back," Robert laughed bitterly. 

"My daughter is mentally unstable Mr King, for her own safety we had her sectioned, she was a danger to us and to herself."

Jareth willed himself not to flip the table at the two ridiculous imbeciles. Sarah was not mentally unstable nor was she a danger to anyone —well perhaps to herself on occasion but she offered no threat to others. 

How dare they send his starlight away. How dare they toss her among the truly insane. "That doesn't sound like the Sarah I once knew," he said with sincerity. 

His Sarah was strong, haughty, sassy and confident.

"Yes well she had everyone fooled until she finally unravelled," Irene interjected. "She was a menace, she put us through hell…"

These plebeians had no remorse for what they'd done, they were painting his love to be some hysterical deranged fool. Had they not bothered to think that perhaps she was suffering with a broken heart? 

A naïve heart that he'd played a part in breaking —he felt wretched. "May I ask where it is she resides now? I have contacts in high places, I can make sure she gets the best possible care…"

"Clear Springs facility in Salem," Robert said with disinterest. "As far as I'm aware she's still the same, not even the best quality psychiatrists are making much impact and she's been there since she just turned sixteen."

Jareth's heart sank —she'd been locked away for almost two years? "Do you not visit? Perhaps her care is not as prestigious as you think."

"I've washed my hands of her," Robert countered, rising to his feet. "Please excuse me, I have work to do," he claimed coldly and retreated from the room. 

Jareth had the urge to stick out his foot and send the insufferable fool rocketing face first to the floor as he walked by but somehow managed to restrain himself.

"Perhaps I should leave," Jareth said, feeling his anger festering. "I'm sorry I irritated obviously sore wounds." He smoothed down his trousers and made a move for the front door.

"We're not ashamed of what we did you know," Irene's voice stopped him in his tracks, his hand on the door handle. "We did what we had to do to protect this family."

"Call me naïve Mrs Williams but I thought Sarah was part of your family? Is a mother's love not supposed to be unconditional?" Jareth countered, unable to hide his contempt.

Irene folded her arms over her chest. "I'm not her mother —besides, even her own mother wanted nothing to do with her, so why should I take on the burden?"

"Sarah deserves better than the pitiful excuse for parents she was lumbered with," Jareth scowled. 

"Perhaps if you'd listened to your daughter and offered her the comfort she so obviously craved then she wouldn't be left alone and abandoned in some facility —then again, perhaps this is what you wanted all along." He stormed out of the door, slamming it back on its hinges and teleported himself back to the Underground the second the wood cracked against the frame.

He found himself back in his throne room, a blinding headache building behind his eyes while his stomach roiled, leaving him nauseous. "I'm coming for you precious…" Jareth whispered into the ether, the cogs in his mind already churning as he formulated a plan.

Chapter 4: Gareth King

Jareth stared up at the drab building, the aged chalky limestone cut a sombre figure in contrast to its lush, sprawling borders. He caught sight of his reflection in the polished glass door and grimaced, smoothing the tight-fitting sweater over narrow hips. 

He could see the guilt that ate away at his insides —like maggots feasting on rotting fruit— reflected in his eyes. His skin started to prickle and heat when a wave of hot shame rolled over him at the same time his cowardly mind urged him to turn and run yet his feet remained firmly in place. 

He'd lost too much time cowing to his wounded pride and he had no one to blame for the sickly feelings of guilt leaving a bitter film of regret on his tongue but himself. If he hadn't been so harsh with the one who turned his world, then he wouldn't be standing where he was now. Rather, he'd be back in his bed with his love's warm, slender body draped across his chest as he combed his fingers through her thick, chocolate locks and crooned words of reverence in her ear.

The Goblin King sighed, squaring shoulders that bore the weight of the beast of his burden and reached out to ring the bell. A few tense seconds passed before the intercom crackled and a chipper voice greeted him with gusto. "Good morning, Clear Springs Psychiatric Facility, how can I help?"

Jareth's stomach roiled, the word psychiatric burrowing beneath his skin to niggle away at him like an itch that he just couldn't reach. "Yes, good morning, I'm Gareth King, I'm one of your patients newly appointed doctors," he cleared his throat, slicking his hand through his hair.

"And which patient would that be Dr. King?" the same chipper voice quizzed, followed by the distinct rustle of paper.

"A one Miss Sarah Williams," he clarified —his precious thing. 

The door to the facility clicked open on a bone-grating buzz and Jareth stepped inside, grimacing in distaste when his nostrils burned from the caustic lingering odour of industrial grade disinfectant. 

He glanced around the reception, quick to note the distinct lack of personality. The walls were all asylum white and everything was overly sterile. Even the poor potted plant looked like the life had been sucked out of it. The tips of its leaves wilted as if turned down in a sad frown.

"Dr. King, welcome to Clear Springs," a young woman hurried out from behind a white marble desk, the heels of her shoes clacking noisily against the chequered linoleum. 

Her hand eagerly stretched out to greet him, "Harriett," she said with a beaming smile..

"Most gracious," Jareth smiled, politely shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you Harriett."

"And you Dr King," she said, batting her eyelashes as she eyed him with appraisal. 

Jareth had to suppress the violent urge to roll his eyes at the woman's lack of decorum —even a palace concubine had a sense of humility. "Here's your key-card which you'll need to access the building along with the wards. Caragh will be down shortly to escort you to your patient's ward —if you need anything in the meantime, please, let me know," she smiled, all teeth and gums.

"My patients name is Sarah and I'd appreciate it if you referred to her as such," Jareth responded curtly, slipping the key-card from the woman's fingers with a tight smile.

"Oh, yes… sorry," Harriett flushed abashed, scuttling back behind her desk.

---

Jareth lounged regally on the stiff, leather couch, his fingers drumming against the armrest as he stared out of the main doors, his stormy blue eyes tracking a swooping bird. He wondered if Sarah ever watched the birds and imagined she was free of the shackles of the cage she was bound to. The thought alone was enough to make his heart ache. 

"Dr. King?" a warm Irish lilt roused him from melancholy and he rose to greet the woman standing nervously off to the side of the couch.

"Apologies, I was away with the fairies," he said with a smile, eliciting a tinkling laugh.

"This place will do that to you—" her smile faded slightly, "—I'm Caragh, Sarah's key-worker," she introduced herself and Jareth found his hostility slacken ever so slightly. Simply for the fact that she referred to Sarah as a human with a name and not merely a number or a statistic. 

Jareth regarded the woman curiously. Her eyes the colour of pale slate flickered with warmth while rich, auburn hair framed soft features, giving him the impression that perhaps she wasn't in this line of work to label and discard, rather she was in it to comfort, to support and most importantly to listen.

"Nice to meet you Caragh," he said with sincerity.

"It's nice to meet you too." Her eyes drifted to Harriett who was sat behind the reception desk trying rather unsuccessfully to look like she was working rather than staring at Jareth with shameless hunger. 

Caragh scoffed and rolled her eyes, motioning towards an elevator tucked into the corner. "Maybe we should head up to the ward before kitty over there gets her claws out," she said with an amused shake of her head.

"So, tell me about Sarah, Caragh," Jareth picked up conversation as the duo stepped into the elevator, the metal doors slowly sliding closed behind them.

Caragh pushed the button for the third floor. "I'm not sure what to tell you in all honesty. I think she's a very misunderstood, lonely girl. I don't think she belongs here but then again, that isn't my job to say is it? I should leave that to the experts," she gestured in his direction. "Though I must warn you, Sarah has closed herself off from everyone. She refuses to speak to anyone bar her friend Jodie."

"Selective mutism?" Jareth frowned, clipping his I.D badge onto his sweater.

Caragh nodded. "Apparently she's been this way for months now —first she stopped speaking to her psychiatrist and now everybody else."

"Hmmm…" Jareth watched the numbers on the screen slowly jump and his stomach churned with every ascent. 

The doors to the elevator slid open with a muted ding and he followed Caragh out into an obnoxiously bright hall. The artificial lights overhead intermittently flickered and he decided there and then that the place was enough to drive anyone to the brink of insanity if they weren't already there when they arrived. 

They passed a nurses station where Caragh introduced Jareth to her fellow key-workers and nurses, stopping to greet various members of staff as they paced the hall. Undeniably, Jareth had zoned out, he was simply going through the motions without actually taking anything in

All he could focus on was the pulsing ache in his core the closer they drew to the end of the hall and the room Sarah resided in.

It had been almost three years since he'd seen his precious and now they were to reunite under such miserable circumstances. He couldn't even reveal who he really was —not yet— not until he'd earnt her trust. Jareth was under no illusions that she was the same girl he'd walked away from that night in the woods. She was no longer the strong, confident haughty adolescent he'd fallen for. Rather, she was a broken, abandoned, caged bird with her delicate wings clipped. Her succulent raspberry red lips sewn shut with distrust and melancholy. 

Caragh came to a stop outside the room at the furthest end of the hall where the lilac painted wood seemed to mock him. Each crack in its enamel was like a jagged finger of blame, pointing and hissing accusations at him —it's your fault, you did this.

"I'll introduce the two of you and then I'll leave you to become better acquainted. Perhaps you'll be the one to get through to her, the poor girl needs someone," Caragh said with a sigh, rapping her knuckles against the door.

"I live in hope," he gave a sad smile in response and followed her into the room. 

Jareth trained his eyes on the floor, unsure whether he was truly ready to see what had become of his Sarah.

"Sarah sweetie, this is Dr. King —he's going to be your new therapist," Caragh's voice drowned out the oppressive silence of the room and Jareth managed to work up the courage to lift his head. 

His heart came to a screaming halt when his eyes landed on the forlorn figure huddled on the bed. "It's nice to meet you Sarah," Jareth smiled, attempting to hide the way the desolate look in her eyes made his knees weak. 

Those mesmerising emerald orbs no longer held the fiery spark of a confident teenager, nor did they hold the glittering wonder of innocence. Instead, her eyes were dull and lifeless, two dark voids of hopelessness. 

Sarah made no attempt at a response, the only signal that she'd actually heard him speak being the insignificant tilt of her head.

"I'll leave you two to get to know one another," Caragh gave Jareth's arm a gentle pat before she stepped out of the room and let the door click closed behind her.

Jareth stepped a little further into the room. His legs felt like lead and his lungs heavy, so much so that every intake of breath was stifling. He could feel a thin sheen of sweat break out on his brow, the very same nervous perspiration trickling in taunting droplets down the length of his spine. 

Deciding he needed a distraction he tore his gaze away from his lost love and slowly began to survey the room —the place was a bloody prison. The king's gaze landed on a patch of artwork and his chest tightened when his own face stared back at him. The smudged charcoal encompassed every detail, even the most insignificant. "Well he's a handsome fellow," he said in jest, attempting levity. 

He motioned to the black and white portrait of himself. "You could cut cake with those eyebrows."

Sarah glanced at the portrait and her desolate eyes flickered with emotion before she curled further into herself, tendering no response. Feeling his stomach sink to his knees and his heart leap up into his throat, Jareth motioned to the neatly sketched imitation of Hogwart, or Hoggle or whatever the little heathens name was instead.

"You know, I think he used to be my assistant. Either that or he has a twin —God forbid," he scoffed, tapping his chin.

Eliciting no response from Sarah, Jareth sighed, trying hard not to break his professional persona by dropping to his knees and begging her to speak —even if it was to tell him to go to hell. Just one word would suffice, anything but the torturous silence. 

---

He pulled out a chair tucked beneath the desk pushed up against the wall of artwork and carried it over to the bed. He set it opposite where Sarah huddled, her eyes tracking his every move. 

"You're a very talented artist, have you ever thought about adding colour to your work? It would liven this place up—" he gestured to the room, "—and it would really bring your characters to life."

Sarah frowned, her eyes flitting between Jareth and the artwork and he wondered what it was she was thinking. "I don't suppose you have coloured pencils do you?" he glanced at the desk, noting the dented tin of charcoal pencils. 

"Say —if I were to bring you some the next time we meet, do you think you could perhaps jazz up those pictures a little? I'd really love to see how they turn out," he said with a smile, tilting his head.

Her frown deepened. Why was this guy talking about her artwork? 

Why wasn't he bombarding her with questions that hurt her soul? 

Why wasn't he pushing her to speak? 

Why was he acting like he genuinely cared and that he sincerely thought she had talent and wanted to help her improve her art? 

Why did his voice make her chest ache? 

Why did his eyes, the perfect storm of sapphire blue and liquid obsidian make her core pulse? 

He was a perfect stranger, another have-a-go hero —another person who thought they knew best. Another person who thought they knew what she needed and who'd diagnose her with the latest psychiatric fad. 

Yet, there was something intimately familiar about him, something that she just couldn't place.

"You know, I understand why you don't want to talk to me, or anyone for that matter —who'd want to willing speak to their captors?" Dr. King spoke softly, folding his arms in his lap. 

Where was his clipboard full of scribbled notes? 

Why wasn't he constantly ticking off criteria that she didn't meet?

What kind of doctor was he? 

"However, if you do choose to speak to me, I promise I won't tell anyone, it can be our little secret."

He smiled and her heart faltered. 

"I know you must be lonely Sarah, your pain is written in your eyes and I'm here to help you, I'm here to ease that pain —if you'd let me."

Sarah's lips reflexively parted, the sincerity of his words slicing through her like a warm knife through butter. She felt a sharp tug in her soul and an odd sense of magnetism pulling her towards the latest addition to the hospital's staff. 

She was instantly pummelled with guilt. The only one she'd ever reacted to that way was Jareth and she wouldn't betray him —she couldn't. Sarah clamped her mouth shut, swallowing the words that danced on the tip of her tongue. 

"You don't trust me, do you Sarah?" Dr. King sighed, resting his chin on his fist. 

Sarah stared back at him, trying to figure him out, trying to work through the strange aura he gave off but only ended up feeling even more confused. 

"Honestly, I don't blame you for not trusting me, especially as you've been so obviously burned by the flame of betrayal in the past," he fixed her with a soft stare. 

"I'm not here to diagnose you Sarah. I'm not here to label you or judge you —I'm here to help you. I'm here to find that girl inside you, the one who's lost and lonely and who only wants to be heard, to be believed and to be loved."

Tears of shame and hurt blurred her vision and for one fleeting second, in the shroud of her unshed tears, she thought she saw a familiar flash of wild hair and the glint of a familiar silver pendant. Sarah rapidly wiped her eyes, blinking back the remaining tears and her heart sank when instead of a mane of wild spun silver, she found a head of slicked back mousy brown. 

A stray sob escaped when the bitter taste of disappointment lay heavy on her tongue. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you Sarah," Dr. King frowned, his expression creased with concern.

"Listen Sarah, I'll leave. I don't wish to upset you further and I'm not going to force you to speak to me —I will leave that decision to you. Just think about my offer and perhaps tomorrow, we can become better acquainted," Dr. King said, unfolding himself from the chair to tuck it back beneath the desk. 

He paused by the door, his slender fingers wrapped around the handle as he glanced back over his shoulder. "All hope is not lost Sarah…" he smiled softly before slipping out of the room.

"Isn't it?" Sarah whispered to his retreating form.

"No," his voice carried over the sound of her sobs as the door gently clicked into the frame.

Chapter 5: The Drugs Don't Work

Skilled fingers danced across the soft curve of her navel while teasing fingertips snagged the delicate silk slip covering her goose-pimpled flesh. Her back arched and she suppressed a moan when a feather light touch skimmed her breasts causing her dusky pink buds to harden and strain against the silken fabric. 

Her chest rose and fell on a hitch of breath. The blades of grass on the soles of her feet were soft on soft. Cool on burning heat. The green wands form a welcome cushion beneath her writhing body and gently tickle the exposed flesh of her arms, calves and thighs. Each strand moved gracefully in the summer night's breeze as easily as the strands of her hair. The quiet rustling as alive as her shaky, uneven breaths.

Soft pink lips grazed her neck and she shuddered. Her nails dug into strong shoulders, afraid that if she lost her grip, she'd lose him too. Delicious hardness met the warm, damp mound between her thighs and she whimpered when every nerve in her body sparked to life. Her skin burned —much like the infernal fire inside her— stoked and kindled by his feather-light caress, his smooth wet tongue and that sweet, sweet hardness.

"You're mine Sarah…" Dr. King's honeyed voice breathed against the shell of her ear and she melted.

"I need you…" the words slipped easily from her swollen lips. 

The feel of silk, slowly sliding up her thighs, had her heart jack-hammering while her thighs willingly parted, welcoming the blissfully pleasant pressure that now rested between them. That same sweet hardness teased her aching folds and a moan laced with sensuality and lust tumbled from parted lips....

---

Sarah awoke with a start, her limbs tangled in the starchy sheets and her skin damp with sweat. Sarah released a slow exhale while her heart continued to thrash against its cage. Between her legs throbbed and her skin burned like she'd been doused in molten lava. 

Sarah released another shaky breath, her fingers subconsciously plucking at the waistband of her knickers. Moving in time to the building crescendo of her heart and the dull, surging throb in her core. She could feel the pressure within her mounting —building until she was close to erupting in a burst of pent up frustration and unbridled want. 

Sarah's eyes fluttered closed, cutting off the jumble of thoughts in her mind and let her body take the lead. It was no longer the rough, starchy sheets beneath her fingertips but the malleable flesh of her breasts. Her thumbs ghosted pebbled buds to send a jolt of pleasure rocketing straight to her core. 

Sarah blindly explored the sensitive mounds of her breasts, shuddering whenever fingertips grazed her pebbled buds. She squeezed stiff peaks between her thumb and forefinger, biting her bottom lip with a soft moan when ripples of pleasure worked a full circuit of her body. 

Feeling indescribably turned on, she let one hand roam down her stomach while the other firmly cupped her breast. Her fingers skimmed the damp material of her knickers and a tingling shiver danced down the length of her spine.

With the ache between her legs reaching new heights, Sarah slipped her hand inside her knickers, grazing her slick folds. She marvelled at how silken, warm and wet everything was to touch as she took the time to explore her body, surprised by how good it felt. 

Sarah drew her slick toward her clit and gasped on contact. Images of Jareth and Dr. King whirled behind her eyelids, slowly morphing into one entity as all the desire she felt bubbling inside her started to surge towards its climax. 

Sarah circled her clit, figuring out which movement provoked the best feelings as her body became overwhelmed with pleasure. She squeezed and fondled her breast, her breath reduced to short, shallow pants. Her heels dug into the mattress, shoulders pushing back against the pillows. She could feel an unfamiliar pressure building and her thighs began to tremble. Biting her lip to stifle her moans, her toes curled when a body jerking orgasm ripped through her, rendering her breathless.

Sarah collapsed back against the pillows, her hair dishevelled and her body slick with sweat. Her state of post-orgasmic bliss didn't last long however and her stomach twisted with guilt. What had she done? She'd fantasied about another man —another man that wasn't Jareth. 

She'd betrayed the one who owned her heart. What was wrong with her? 

How could this man have had such a profound effect on her overnight? 

What was it about him that called to her shattered soul? 

Was it the compassion and sorrow in his eyes? 

Was it the gentle, articulate way he spoke in that charming lilt? 

Was it that he seemed to genuinely care about helping her? 

Or was it that his eyes were the perfect storm of sapphire blue and obsidian —eyes that reminded her so much of her lost fae king. Nevertheless, whatever it was, she needed to nip it in the bud, she couldn't behave like this —it wasn't right.

---

Sarah found Jodie nursing a cup of coffee and a soggy bowl of cornflakes in the canteen and quickly made a bee-line for her friend. She slid her breakfast tray onto the table and lowered herself onto the bench. Jodie eyed her friend suspiciously, one brow arched in question. "Why do you look so guilty?" She narrowed almond eyes, giving Sarah a keen once over.

"I'm such a bad person Jodes," Sarah groaned, hiding her flushed face behind her hands.

"Sure you are hon, you're the worst," Jodie said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes, slurping a spoonful of cereal.

"I'm serious," Sarah implored, pushing her tray into the middle of the table, no longer hungry.

"Yeah? I'll be the judge of that, what did you do? Tell your key-worker to fuck off? I'm pretty sure I did that this morning, but it's kinda foggy, I was high on meds…"

"No, Caragh's lovely–" Sarah shook her head, "—it's worse than that."

"So spit it out Sar, sheesh," Jodie took a sip of coffee and her face wrinkled in disgust. "I'd kill for a Starbucks," she said with a sigh, setting the plastic cup back onto the table.

Sarah huddled closer to her friend, looking back over her shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot, "I fantasised about another guy while I…" she trailed off, feeling far too awkward to finish.

"While you rubbed one out?" Jodie smirked. "Who'd you fantasise about? Was it Chase? I get why you would but you know he's off limits, right?"

Sarah made a noise of disgust. "It wasn't Chase, it was my new doctor."

"Is that who I saw coming out of your room yesterday? What's the big deal? So you fantasised about the guy, that's good right? It means your not completely broken like you thought…" Jodie squeezed her bicep with a knowing smile.

Jodie was right in a way, Sarah didn't think she was capable of feeling anything other than pain and hopelessness but this guy, whoever he was, had awakened something she'd buried deep inside her. Something that had died the night Jareth had walked away. 

"Maybe but it's still wrong, I feel like I'm betraying Jareth. I love him Jodie. I've never stopped loving him and I don't want to stop —I don't understand what this means."

"Sar, you're overthinking everything right now, maybe it was a fluke, maybe it wasn't. Just because you got yourself off to the image of a good-looking guy doesn't mean you betrayed Jareth." 

Jodie propped her head on her fist, her almond eyes twinkling with sincerity. "Do you think his Lordship is sat in his castle wearing a chastity belt? I hate to burst your bubble and I don't want to hurt your feelings but Sar, maybe letting someone in isn't a bad thing, maybe it's what you need... maybe it will help you heal."

Her friend sat back, throwing her hands up. "Shit, it might even be your ticket out of here and you can track Jareth down and tell him how much you love him. But for now, just take what you can get. Any pleasure, no matter how superficial, is a shit ton better than constant pain." 

"You're wasted in this place, Jodes," Sarah sighed, resting her head on her friend's shoulder.

"Eh, I dunno, I wouldn't be saying half as much profound shit if I wasn't off my tits on all these drugs," she said with a manic grin. 

Sarah grimaced. It would be time for medication to be distributed soon and she was running out of ways to hide the small purple and green capsule that tasted like melted plastic. She adamantly refused to take it —she didn't need medication because she wasn't mentally unstable. She was just hurting, broken inside and yearning for someone to piece her back together so she could finally feel whole again. 

"Is he coming back today?" Jodie asked.

"Who?" Sarah frowned, confused.

"Dr. Dreamboat."

"Oh, I don't know? I think so," Sarah shrugged. "I'm gonna head back to my room, I'm not hungry and the smell of burnt toast is making me feel nauseous."

"Yeah, I'm gonna head back to my room too, Chase said he'd try sneak in on his break," Jodie smirked, gathering her breakfast tray. 

"Hey, you never know, it might be the Dr's hands down your pants instead of your own next time."

"Don't be ridiculous, a security guard is one thing but a doctor? They have ethics you know," Sarah scoffed.

"Maybe your gorgeous face and killer ass will prove too much of a temptation and poor old doc will be completely at your mercy."

"You're certified, do you know that?" Sarah laughed.

"Well we ain't in Disneyland honey," Jodie said with a wink and sauntered across the canteen.

---

Sarah padded out of the closet masquerading as a bathroom. Her damp hair hung limp over her shoulders leaving dark stains around the collar of her sweater. She flopped down on the end of the bed, thumbing the cuff of her sleeve as she stared at her sketch of Jareth. The more she stared, the more it felt as though he was probing at her soul —detecting her betrayal and the subsequent guilt. 

The door to her room suddenly swung open and Sarah scowled, her chest burning with contempt when nurse Pratchett waddled into the room wearing a smug smirk on her leathery, fat face. Suffice to say, the two of them didn't have a friendly relationship. In fact the air between them was often colder than a penguin's asshole —Sarah hated her. 

"You know the drill Williams —this time swallow it," nurse Pratchett said with a sneer. Her hand darted in Sarah's direction almost hitting in the face.

Sarah felt resentment and anger bubble inside her like murky water. The bubbles hissed and popped leaving behind stains of bitter hatred. "No," Sarah said through gritted teeth, her fists curling around the bed sheets.

"Are you refusing orders girl?" Nurse Pratchett glowered.

"I'm refusing your orders," Sarah said stiffly in response, her indignant anger burning her from the inside out.

"You'll take your medicine you little brat or I won't hesitate to make you."

Something in Sarah's mind snapped. Like a rubber band that had been stretched and frayed until it could no longer hold itself together, she exploded in a fit of rage. "Leave me alone!" Sarah screamed, violently swinging her arm out to knock the tub containing the pill right out of the nurse's hand. The tub sailed across the room where it landed with a faint clatter against the wall by the desk.

"You little—" the nurse growled, shaking her fist in Sarah's face, "—security!" 

Sarah's heart dropped to her knees. "No, no you can't!" she pleaded as hot, salty tears streamed down her face.

"You just watch me," nurse Pratchett said with a wicked smirk as two members of security rushed into the room. 

"Restrain her, she just went for me," the nurse lied and the two guards closed in on her.

"I didn't do anything!" Sarah sobbed, struggling beneath their punishing grip.

"Like we haven't heard that line before," the guard pinning her arms scoffed and rolled up one of the sleeves of her sweater while his partner pinned down her legs.

Sarah helplessly watched as nurse Pratchett produced a syringe, the tip of the long, sharp needle bleeding clear fluid. She wanted to scream and shout until her lungs burned and her voice gave out but she knew there'd be no point —no one would listen. No one would come to rescue her. She was alone and at the mercy of these monsters masquerading as people who were supposed to care. 

Sarah closed her eyes, her sobs turning to muted whimpers as the heavy weight of both the guards and nurse Pratchett bore down on her before she felt the sharp prick of the needle penetrate her bicep. She could feel the cool liquid release into her veins, slowly creeping further up her arm until it reached her neck. The wild pounding of her heart pushed the poison deeper until her mind began to fog and her limbs no longer complied.

Once the three members of staff were satisfied that she was sedated, they released their hold on her, leaving her slumped in a heap, tangled in her bed sheets and unable to do anything other than cry.

---

Jareth stepped out of the elevator onto the ward and instantly tuned into the sound of raised voices coming from the nurses station. He strode down the hall, his brows furrowing in a frown when he approached the nurses station and saw that it was in fact Caragh, Sarah's key-worker and another member of staff who were howling at one another like warring cats. 

"You had no right Teresa! No right at all!" Caragh yelled, pointing an accusatory finger in a portly womans face.

"Oh simmer down Caragh, what was I supposed to do? Let her assault me?" The accused woman threw up her hands.

"Sarah isn't a violent patient," Caragh argued and Jareth's stomach roiled —his Sarah?

"Is everything alright Caragh?" He intervened.

"Not really—" she glared at her collegue with derision, "—nurse Pratchett has taken it upon herself to sedate Sarah. The poor girl is practically comatose and all for the claim that she attacked nurse Pratchett when she brought Sarah her medication."

"She was practically feral! I did what protocol demands that I do. Just because you're soft on the girl doesn't mean I have to be."

Jareth had heard enough —who did this pig-headed woman think she was? 

How dare she speak so flippantly about his Sarah. Perhaps he ought to stick a needle in her neck and knock her off her high-horse. Then again, on second thoughts, perhaps he'd need a harpoon and a horse tranquilliser. 

"As Sarah's doctor, I request that in the future, all decisions regarding sedation, medication or anything else related to her care be run by me first, do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," the haughty nurse huffed.

"Splendid," Jareth drawled and watched her waddle her way down the hall wishing she'd trip and fall right on her arrogant face.

"She's not a violent girl, Dr. King. Of course, she knows how to throw a tantrum like any other teenager in this place but she'd never purposely attack a member of staff or another patient," Caragh ran a hand through her auburn hair, her slate grey eyes flickering with concern.

"No, I don't believe she would either," he said on a sigh. "I'm going to go and see if I can get to the bottom of what happened. I ask that I'm not disturbed under any circumstances." 

---

Jareth rapped a gentle knock on the door and cautiously stepped inside the room. His stomach roiled and his heart bled compassion when he caught sight of the sorrowful figure slumped on the bed. Sarah's eyes were glazed and rimmed red, swollen from the constant stream of silent tears that trickled down her alabaster cheeks. Her rich, chocolate locks hung damp and limp over her face while the sickly odour of despair hung heavy in the air. 

Jareth had to refrain from drawing her into his arms and holding her to whisper sincere oaths into her hair. "Sarah," Jareth hesitantly announced his presence and her eyes slowly fixed him with a glassy-eyed stare.

"Jareth?" Sarah's eyes brimmed with tears and Jareth momentarily panicked —had his glamour failed? 

Had he unintentionally dropped his guard? 

He gave himself a quick once over, relieved to find his black slacks and seaweed green sweater still in place. Could she be hallucinating? 

Was it a side-effect of whatever drug that wretched woman had pumped into her bloodstream? 

Jareth wasn't sure whether to correct her or see how things played out. The last thing he wanted to do was to cause her further distress by bringing her crashing back to reality with no form of comfort. He turned to retrieve the chair from beneath the desk, halted in his tracks by Sarah's desperate pleas. "Please don't leave me again…"

A jarring flare of pain hit his heart, white-hot like he'd been struck by a violent crack of lightning. Her words drove the smouldering blade of guilt deeper between his ribs, twisting and grinding against bone. "I'm not going anywhere Sarah," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper. 

It dawned on him then what a hare-brained scheme he'd conjured up. How was he supposed to pretend to be someone other than the man who craved his precious, broken angel? 

How was he supposed to ignore her silent pleas for comfort? 

How was he supposed to just stand there and watch as the woman who's name was branded in the very fibres of his heart wept without offering her anything other than an awkward glance or bumbling word of reassurance? 

His stomach coiled itself into one large knot as he observed her attempt to move. Her lethargic movements were a pitiful sight and he found himself drawn to her side like a moth to a flame.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, I didn't mean it, I—" her words were muted, stolen by desperate sobs and the last of Jareth's resolve crumbled. 

He lowered himself onto the bed, propping himself against the wall to draw Sarah's head into his lap and tenderly combed his fingers through her damp, knotted tresses. "I'm sorry too Sarah," he whispered, understanding that it was unlikely she'd remember their interaction once the drugs wore off.

"Why does everyone leave me? Why don't they want me? Why don't they believe me…?" she wept while the heat of her tears seeped beneath the fabric of his slacks.

"I believe you Sarah," he soothed and stroked the pad of his thumb across her petal soft cheek. 

Sarah's shoulder-shaking sobs muted to low, hitching whimpers as she slowly started to calm. He reached to neaten the sleeve of her sweater and caught sight of the thin, silvery-pink lines scaring her wrists and the underside of her forearm. His stomach lurched and a wave of nausea clawed at his throat as his fingers traced the scars of his loves torment. 

It was in that moment, with such a daunting revelation, that he wanted to forget this whole charade and reveal his true identity. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and shower her with all the love and affection she deserved but had been so obviously deprived of. 

Nevertheless, he knew he needed to play the game a little longer. He needed to get her to open up to him while she was coherent. The last thing he wanted to do was whisk her away when she was so unstable. Though she clearly still harboured feelings for him, it didn't mean that she was ready for him —or his world.

Sarah's eyes slowly fluttered closed and he listened to the rhythmic beat of her heart, his fingers still absently combing through her hair. "I'll paint you mornings of gold, I'll spin you Valentine evenings, though we're strangers 'till now, we're choosing the path between the stars… I'll leave my love, between the stars…." Jareth softly crooned with images of the two of them dancing hand in hand around the ballroom flickering and blooming in the forefront of his mind. 

His shoulders sagged beneath the weight of his sorrow yet there still remained a flicker of hope in his heart that refused to extinguish. It was the hope that one day soon they'd dance again, only this time as man and wife —as King and Queen.

Chapter 6: His Weakness is You

The heavy weight bearing down on her eyelids gradually began to lift and her brain started to feel a little less like cotton wool when the disorientating fog of slumber gradually began to ebb. 

Sarah was promptly all-too aware of an unpleasant ache in her muscles. Her body felt stiff, like she'd been lying in the same position for hours while the inside of her mouth felt like she'd been chewing lint. 

She rolled onto her back and palmed her forehead with a low groan, waiting for the lingering haze clouding her brain to clear. Once cognizant, she became aware of a dull ache behind her eyes and the fact that she was still wearing yesterday's clothes. 

Sarah stared at the asylum white ceiling and tried to remember how she'd come to be in such a pitiful state. She remembered losing her patience with nurse Pratchett and the subsequent sedation but everything after that was blurry. She vaguely remembered feeling the bed shift beneath another person's weight and she vaguely recalled resting her cheek on something solid while the somewhat familiar scent of sweet musk and earthy spices fogged her mind and ghostly fingertips grazed her scalp. 

She frowned, swallowing bitter saliva as her mind worked overtime. There was only one person that she remembered smelling like that —sweet musk with an undertone of cinnamon— and that was Jareth. Her shoulders shook with a heavy sigh, the sedation they'd poisoned her with must have made her hallucinate. After all, the Goblin King was never far from her mind. 

After taking a shower, Sarah pushed back the urge to wallow in a pit of misery and made her way to the canteen for breakfast, avidly avoiding eye contact when she crossed paths with nurse Pratchett in the hall. She hunkered down at an empty table and scanned the room for any signs of her friend but Jodie was abnormally absent. 

Sarah bit into a slice of warm buttery toast, surprised when her mouth started to salivate —she must have been hungrier than she thought. She chased the mouthful of toast with a sip of bittersweet coffee, repeating the process almost robotically as she absentmindedly stared at a ringed watermark on the surface of the table. 

"Good morning," a drawling articulate lilt startled her out of her monotonous reverie and her head snapped up to find a set of sapphire irises looking down at her.

Sarah's jaw hung loose in the moments before she pushed past the initial shock of her new doctor's unexpected company. "You're early," she said simply, regarding the man in front of her with an air of confusion. 

She'd not really had the chance to truly look at him before now and as she studied his chiselled features, she experienced a strange warmth that blossomed in her chest, reaching up to colour her cheeks. Those sapphire eyes —the perfect storm of blue and liquid obsidian— the high cheekbones and the pale, thin lips.

They all seemed so familiar. 

The corners of Dr King's mouth lifted in a soft smile and his blue eyes twinkled in a way that made her stomach flutter. "Tiring of my company already Sarah?" He teased, pulling a face when he took a sip from the cup of coffee cradled in his hands. 

"That's absolutely vile," he scowled, pushing the cup away with a glare of derision.

"You get used to it," Sarah said, peering into her own mug of murky, brown liquid.

"Hmmm… I suppose you'd have to," he mused, steeping slender fingers beneath his chin. 

"Anyway, the reason I'm here so early is simply due to the old adage —the early bird catches the worm and seeing as though I haven't really gotten to know you so far, I figured that getting here early would give me a better chance at success."

"Did you come yesterday?" Sarah blurted, unsure why she even asked the question.

Dr. King's eyes flashed with something dark, something that twisted his features and made the muscles in his jaw pull taut. "Yes, but you were in no fit state to talk…" he cleared his throat, brushing an invisible spot of dirt from the sleeve of his sweater.

"She hates me," Sarah murmured, prodding at the remaining slice of toast on her plate.

"Who?"

"Nurse Pratchett," Sarah clarified, feeling her cheeks heat with shame.

"Brutish woman," Dr. King said with an air of utmost distaste and Sarah felt the corners of her lips twitch.

"You remind me of someone," she raised her head, gazing into his captivating sapphire orbs.

"I do?" he paused. "And who might I remind you of Sarah?

"Somebody that I used to know…" she chewed her lip, unable to tear her eyes away from his face.

"Perhaps you could tell me about him during our time together today," he offered and Sarah's stomach roiled —he made it sound so intimate.

"Maybe," she swallowed.

"Come now, finish your breakfast, I have a surprise for you," he said with a grin and for the first time in a long time, Sarah felt a jolt of excitement spark in her core.

---

Sarah was waiting for Dr. King to return from wherever he'd disappeared to when the door to her room swung open and none other than nurse Pratchett waddled in with a sinister smirk on her ugly face. Sarah always imagined her face was what a bulldog chewing on a wasp would look like. 

"Guess what time it is?" She said with a knowing grin, waving the plastic tub of medication in front of her face.

"If you would be so kind as to leave Sarah's medication on the desk nurse Hatchet I'll see that she takes it," Dr. King strode into the room, his tone clipped.

"Pratchett," she corrected with a scowl.

"That's what I said."

"No you called me nurse Hatchet," the nurse harrumphed, folding her arms over her chest.

"Oh, I did? Well my sincerest apologies nurse Pratchett, I don't know what I was thinking," he retorted sardonically and Sarah suppressed a giggle. 

Nurse Pratchett slammed the plastic tub down onto the desk and bustled out of the room, no doubt muttering curses under her breath. 

"Right," Dr. King clapped his hands together, turning his attention to Sarah. "I believe it's time for your surprise."

"What about my medication?" Sarah eyed the pill with contempt. Sarah curiously watched him tip the contents of the tub into the palm of his hand and slip the pill into the pocket of his slacks.

"Our little secret," he winked and Sarah couldn't help but smile. "So, are you ready to leave?"

"What do you mean, leave? Where are we going?" 

Dr. King must have noticed her peaking anxiety and he cautiously stepped forward, gently clasping his hand over her shoulder. The second his hand made contact, a bolt of electricity rocketed full circuit throughout her body and almost knocked her off her feet. 

"Sarah, are you quite alright?" Dr. King's voice cut through the droning buzz in her mind as he steadied her.

"Yeah… I'm fine," she nodded, dazed. 

What the hell was that?

Dr. King frowned but made no further mention of her adverse reaction. "We're going for a walk outside. I don't like the fact you're cooped up in this place like some kind of caged animal. You need fresh air and a change of scenery —doctors orders," he smiled.

"How did you manage to swing that with security?" 

"I can't reveal my secrets Sarah, it would ruin the air of mystery and I'd fear you'd no longer find me intriguing." 

Sarah huffed a laugh —she really was intrigued by him. She followed Dr. King out into the hall, hesitantly falling in step with him as they made their way towards the elevator. 

They passed the doors to the stairwell and Jodie tumbled out with her hair dishevelled and her complexion flushed, followed by Chase who had a smug smirk on his face. Sarah noticed the way her friend beamed up at the young security guard with eyes alight with affection as they checked the coast was clear. 

Maybe it was more than just sex? 

Or maybe the sex was just that good? 

Jodie spotted Sarah and gave her a small wave which was swiftly followed by a cheeky wink and Sarah felt herself blush, quickening her steps to catch up with Dr. King.

"I take it that you know the girl sneaking out of the stairwell?" He inquired when they stepped into the elevator.

"That's Jodie, she's sort of my only friend around here…" Sarah said as the elevator doors slid shut, entombing them in the condensed steel box. 

She felt the palm of her hands grow slick with sweat. He was so close that she could feel heat radiate from him in waves of comfort. The heady scent of sweet musk and cinnamon made her head spin —what the hell was wrong with her?

"And why might your friend be sneaking around looking flushed, glossy eyed and rather cosy with a supposed member of security?" Dr. King probed and leant around her, pushing the button for the ground floor. 

Sarah tracked his movements, silently hoping his fingers would brush against her so she could experience that jarring burst of electricity. Either that or he'd move closer so she could feel more of the comforting heat he omitted. Despite herself, she found herself gravitating towards him, his presence like a powerful magnetic pull that she'd not noticed before. 

The first time they'd met, she'd been wary and cocooned in a bubble of misery while yesterday she'd been practically comatose but now she was thinking with clarity and hyper-aware of the way he was making her feel.

"If I tell you, do you promise you won't tell anyone?" she licked parched lips, peering up at him from beneath her lashes.

"Doctor, patient confidentiality —I'm practically bound to secrecy."

"Jodie's not your patient…"

"No, but you are, and you can trust me Sarah," he said sincerely while his eyes seemed to peer into her shattered soul. 

The elevator gave a slight bouncy jolt when it came to a stop on the ground floor. The heavy doors slowly slid open to reveal the lobby and Sarah swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat. She could still remember the first day her parents had brought her here like it was only yesterday. She remembered the way the asylum white walls closed in on her as she watched those who were supposed to love her unconditionally walk away, washing their hands of their burden. 

She wordlessly followed Dr. King to the doors leading out into the grounds of the facility, peering over her shoulder at the receptionist with a confused frown when she found the young woman looking for all intents and purposes like she hadn't even noticed their presence.

Sarah held her breath when they drew closer to the main doors, observing Dr. King detach his key-card from his sweater in favour of swiping it in the lock. The lock released with a loud buzz and Sarah's heart began to pound, the sound of blood rushing through her veins almost thunderous and rendered her temporarily deaf. 

She stepped out onto the concrete pathway, wholly expecting a pair of rough hands to drag her kicking and screaming back into the place she'd been imprisoned. When nothing happened and the door slowly clicked back into place, Sarah slowly felt herself start to relax. The tension in her neck and shoulders released to leave behind a dull ache. 

Her eyes fluttered closed, relishing in the cool autumn breeze caressing her face like delicate, inquisitive fingertips. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the fresh morning air, exhaling in a slow steady burst until her lungs emptied. Her hair whipped against her neck and shoulders as she stood basking in the heat of the morning sun.

Sarah followed Dr. King as he lead her towards the forest bordering the facility where the dense tree-line eagerly swallowed her whole. Its spindly arms welcomed her with a gentle brush of lush leaves all the colours of a smokeless fire down the length of her arm. 

They journeyed deeper and the forest hummed with life all around them. Sarah twirled in a sluggish circle, gazing up at the closely knitted canopy of nature and listened to the melodious song of the birds hidden in the vast valley of trees. Warm sunlight broke through the cracks in the canopy, lighting the dirt path ahead of them and bathing the outgrown, rotting roots, wildflowers and fallen leaves and twigs that crunched and snapped beneath her feet with mellow golden light. 

Sarah wandered down the dirt path, feeling completely at ease as she inhaled the scent of fragrant minty grass and wildflowers. Each inhalation was like taking her first breath, filling her with fresh, cleansing, empowering fragments of life. 

Sarah closed her eyes, taking a moment to appreciate the calming experience.

"Beautiful…" the soft, articulate drawl whispered on the wind and Sarah's eyes snapped open to find Dr King gazing up at the trees.

"Did you just say something?" Sarah asked, brushing her wind-whipped hair behind her ears.

"No," he lowered his gaze to her face, his pleasantly thin lips quirking in a small smile. 

She could have sworn she'd heard… heard what? Him call you beautiful? Her mind sneered at her, extinguishing the flicker of warmth she'd felt in her chest. 

"So tell me about your friend, what's the big secret?" Dr. King arched a brow and lowered himself to perched on a hollowed out tree trunk.

Sarah remained stood in the middle of the small meadow they'd found themselves in, reflexively wrapping her arms around her middle. "Her and Chase —the security guard she was with— they've sort of been getting together."

"Getting together for an off the record therapy session? Or getting together to divulge in the pleasures of the flesh?" he asked for clarification, head cocked.

Pleasures of the flesh? 

Who spoke like that in this day and age? 

Sarah's stomach churned —Jareth spoke like that. He was always coming up with outrageously old fashioned terms spoken in that knee-weakening articulated drawl of his. Dr. King really did remind her of him, they had the same mannerisms, the same outdated vocabulary and sarcastic wit. It was almost eerie how similar the two were. 

Maybe that's why she felt so at ease with him? 

Maybe that's why his presence was so comforting? 

"Unless therapy is code for sex…" Sarah mumbled, feeling her cheeks heat.

"Ah, so your friend has found a companion to while away the hours spent in that hell-hole hmmm?" he tapped his chin with a slender finger. 

"What about you Sarah, do you have such a companion?" he probed and though his tone was nonchalant, his eyes grew dark and stormy.

"No," Sarah said, toying with the sleeve of her sweater. "I don't have anyone, I wouldn't —I can't…" she flustered.

"What's stopping you Sarah? Is it your moral compass, or perhaps something more?" Dr. King continued to niggle at old barely healed wounds.

"I don't want anyone else, I want—" she cut herself, feeling her anxiety heighten.

"What or who, is it that you want Sarah?" Dr. King urged, propping his chin on his fist.

"I want him—" she exhaled shakily, "—I want the one person I know I can't have. I want the one who you remind me so much of. I want the one that I walked away from because I didn't understand what the feelings he made me feel meant…"

She paused to pull air into her rapidly deflating lungs.

"I want the one who I've never forgotten and never will… the one who's always here—" she placed her hand on her heart, "—and here…" she tapped her temple, her thoughts and feelings spewing from her mouth like verbal vomit.

"Who is it that I remind you of Sarah?" He gracefully rose from his perch, the sound of the dry leaves rustling beneath his feet overly loud.

"Him…" she threw up her hands, feeling the tell-tale sting of tears behind her eyes.

"Does he not have a name?"

"Yes but… I… I can't say it…" 

"Why not?"

"Because if I say his name nothing will happen and—" she felt warm tears trickle down her cheeks, "—and I'll just be left standing here on my own like he left me that night in the woods."

She dabbed at her eyes with the cuff of her sweater. "He doesn't want me but I've never stopped wanting him…" she said with a sniffle, staring down at her feet.

"You wouldn't be alone, I'm here with you, am I not?" 

"If I tell you then you'll walk away from me too, like everybody else. Nobody believes me, everyone either thinks I'm bat shit crazy or I'm a liar, or both. Why would you be any different?" Sarah felt herself start to crumble. 

Why did he have such a strong ability to get under her skin?

"I believe that if you say his name, nothing bad is going to happen. In fact, I think it would perhaps help you get the answers you so desperately seek Sarah…." 

Sarah turned her back on Dr. King, unable to look at those eyes that screamed familiarity. She wanted to cover her ears, wishing to block out the voice that did something to her soul. His presence at first had been comforting, exciting even, but right at that moment in time it was painful, so much so that her heart physically ached. 

"You'll never know until you try Sarah, at this point what do you have to lose?"

"I'd say my sanity but I think that's already a goner."

She heard Dr. King sigh with what sounded like defeat. "Is his name Jareth, by any chance?" 

Sarah's body grew rigid and her heart pounded rapid fire. She felt frozen, unable to move. 

"I'm quite familiar with the Goblin King —a pretentious prig for the majority but he does bare his weaknesses."

"Jareth has no weaknesses," Sarah shook her head.

"Yes he does Sarah," Dr. King's voice came from directly behind her. 

"His weakness is you."

Chapter 7: Return of the King

Jareth's eyes were trained on Sarah's crown The cool breeze that had moments ago been light and refreshing suddenly turned icy, chilling him to the bone. 

Sarah's rich chocolate locks whipped against his chest and the scent of vanilla infused spiced peaches flooded his senses with each tousled strand of hair. His fingers itched to touch her. Itched to feel her petal soft skin beneath his fingertips as he whispered sweet-nothings in her ear. He longed to shield her from the icy chill with the heat of his body pressed so close he'd be able to feel the rhythmic thump of her heart. 

He hadn't planned on revealing himself so soon but hearing her speak of such painful longing made his heart ache and reminded him of his own misery that he'd felt during her absence. He wasn't sure what he should say nor what he should do, so he merely stood, his body burning to close the space between them and cradle her in his arms.

After what felt like a millennia, Sarah slowly turned to face him. Her eyes were misty with tears, the remnants of which still rendered her cheeks flushed and damp. He hadn't removed his glamour and for all intents and purposes he still looked like the fictional Dr King but his words and his behaviour could no longer disguise his true identity. 

Sarah searched his face, her watery emerald eyes peering up at him from beneath thick, wet lashes, "Jareth?" Sarah said with a frown, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, precious?" he drawled. 

Hearing her speak his name was like the finest aria to his ears.

"I don't understand…" she looked lost —bewildered— and he desperately wanted to comfort her. However, he knew that he hadn't earned that right, not yet.

"Sarah I—"

"No," Sarah shook her head and stumbled back. "No, you can't do this! You can't show up after almost three years and pretend that you care only to walk away from me again. I knew you were cruel Goblin King, but this is low, even for you!" She angrily swiped at her eyes.

"I'm not pretending to care about you Sarah, if I didn't truly care then I wouldn't be here. I don't plan to walk away, I was a fool to do so the first time and I don't plan on repeating such a mistake."

"It took you almost three years to realise you made a mistake? How many women did it take?" Sarah scoffed indignantly.

"Sarah I really don't think now is the time to discuss such redundant matters," Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose —this was not going how he'd envisioned it would.

"Your answer speaks a thousand words Goblin King!" She yelled as tears born of anger and confusion streamed down her cheeks. Tears that he so desperately yearned to kiss away. 

"I'm disowned by my own father, locked up in some prison for the mentally ill, constantly tormented by the pain of your words, of you walking away and of my own regrets, with everyone labelling me a fantasist, a liar, a paranoid schizophrenic and you—" she pointed an accusatory finger, "—you're prancing around your castle with women hanging off your dick!"

Jareth was a little taken aback by Sarah's less than proper use of the English language but ultimately decided that reprimanding her wouldn't be in his best interests —not at this moment in time anyway. 

He had to let her release her anger. He had to let her voice how she'd felt after spending so long with no one truly listening to her. He wouldn't be yet another authority to take away her freedom of speech. 

"That's not entirely true Sarah, I too have been tormented by your absence."

Sarah scoffed. "Forgive me for speaking out of term your majesty but that, right there, is a crock of shit!"

"Sarah, will you please just listen to me for a minute? How am I supposed to explain my behaviour when you keep shouting vulgarities at me," Jareth threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Maybe I don't want to listen to your excuses Jareth —maybe this is all just too late," Sarah's voice wavered as she choked on a sob.

"You don't truly mean that Sarah, you've just admitted that I'm always here—" he pressed his hand against her chest, feeling the frantic thrash of her heart, "—and I'm always here…" he lightly tapped her temple. 

His chest ached with affection when his love leant into his touch and her eyes fluttered closed as silent tears trickled down her cheeks. 

"If it was simply just too late then you wouldn't still think of me precious, nor would you ache in my absence. I understand you're angry and you have every right to be after the way the world has treated you —after the way I have treated you. But you have to believe me when I tell you that it's always been you Sarah. It was, is and will always be you."

Stormy blue eyes met striking emerald and Jareth's stomach gave a violent lurch, the force akin to the power of a recoiling shotgun. The world came to a shuddering, shaky stand-still and all he could see was the most beautiful eyes he'd ever had the good grace to gaze upon, set in an obscenely pretty face. 

Flashes of blinding light were followed by a succession of vivid images that played in his mind like his own personal slide projector —all of which included the one who turned his world upside down. 

My queen! His inner voice rejoiced, guiding him out of the trance-like state he'd been rendered in the moment he'd gazed into her eyes. 

Jareth shook off the lingering haze of his revelation and noted the stiffness in Sarah's shoulders slowly starting to retreat. His eyes roamed the soft contours of her face, observing the ashen pallor of her complexion. "Perhaps you should sit for a while, precious. You're looking a little peaky," Jareth said, guiding her toward the hollow trunk and kept a light grip on her arms as she lowered herself to sit.

"I'm sorry I—"

Jareth gently pressed a finger to her lips. "There's no need to apologise," he sighed, brushing her hair behind her ears and lowered himself into a crouch in front of her. 

"You need something sweet," he mused, clicking his fingers to produce a peach. "Eat Sarah," he held out the succulent fruit in offering.

"I remember what happened the last time I ate a peach Jareth and I'm not sure I'm in the right headspace for forced hallucinations."

"You think that I, the Goblin King, would do such a thing as use the same trick twice? What do you take me for?" 

"I don't think I should answer that," Sarah chewed her lip with a faint smile and plucked the fruit from his fingers.

"Perhaps not," Jareth chuckled, rising to his full height. 

The Goblin King silently observed Sarah as she tucked into the juicy fruit, his eyes tracking each purse of her lips and lick of her tongue. The way her lips moulded to the peach evoked an influx of energy that had his core trembling with untamed desire. 

How he longed to snake burning, open mouthed kisses across every inch of his loves alabaster skin. How he craved to taste the musky, salt of her perspiration born of hours of teasing before sampling the sweet nectar of her deepest desires. 

Jareth shuddered, aware that his trousers were becoming rather tight around his crotch. The metal teeth of the zipper dug into the stiff tissue and throbbing blood vessels enough to make him wince in discomfort. He combed his fingers through his hair and inhaled a ragged breath, attempting to push down the brunt of the volatile energy washing over him in a tidal wave of static.

Thankfully, Sarah finished the rather alluring display and tossed the peach pit to the floor where it disappeared amongst the foliage to begin its journey of rot and decay where it would become one with earth once again. She wiped her sticky hands on her pants, wiping the corners of her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater. 

"Better?" Jareth quirked a brow in question.

"Yeah—" Sarah nodded, "—thank you."

"The pleasure's all mine, precious," he smiled. "Now, would you like to stay here for a while or would you perhaps like to retire back to the facility?"

"I think I'd like to go back," Sarah agreed. "I feel like I need some time to process everything, I don't necessarily want you to leave but I feel like I need some time alone."

"As you wish Sarah-mine, I am after all, only a call away," he stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles.

---

Sarah once again found herself staring at the ceiling of her room. Her stomach fluttered with a thousand drunken butterflies that gathered to swoop and dance beneath her sternum. 

The initial burst of anger she'd felt had subsided over the course of the afternoon and she realised that it was unfair to project all of her hurt and discontent onto him. He'd come back for her —regardless of how long it had taken for him to return. 

Maybe she wouldn't be destined to a life of loneliness and solitude after all. Maybe she'd get the fairy-tale happy ending that she'd always dreamed of. 

She toyed with the corner of the bed sheet. For the majority of the afternoon, she'd replayed the way he'd looked at her over and over. Unable to shake the ghost of his touch that had so tenderly caressed her cheek. The sweet taste of peach still lingered on her tongue and she found herself wondering how the king himself would taste. 

Would he be sweet like exotic fruit? 

Would he taste bitter, like she'd just licked a piece of cinnamon bark? 

Or would his brand of flavour be one which she'd never experienced before, his taste incomparable to even the most decadent dessert?

A surge of heat flooded her touch-starved body, and though she knew that there was a lot for them to talk through, she also couldn't help but indulge in fantasies of all the words that could be spoken from actions alone. 

She rolled onto her side and pressed her back against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to her flushed skin. Sleep was still as elusive as it had been two hours ago and she could no longer ignore the urge to speak the name that danced on the tip of her tongue. 

"Jareth?" Sarah murmured into the ether and her heart skipped a beat when the Goblin King himself appeared with an audible crack of electricity, his wild hair as dishevelled as her own. 

Her gaze roamed the taut, lithe contours of his naked chest where the oddly shaped pendant of the Goblin Kingdom hung from his neck on a thin silver chain. His lower half was clad in only a pair of light, black silk sleep pants that left little to the imagination. 

"To what do I owe this pleasure, precious?" Jareth asked, his eyes trained on her bottom lip that just so happened to be caught between her teeth.

"I couldn't sleep," she sighed, drawing lazy circles on her pillow with the tip of her finger.

"Yes, I haven't had much luck in that regard either," Jareth exhaled, running slender fingers through his hair. 

"Is this perhaps going to be a lengthy visit, should I pull up a chair? Or did you just wish to drag me from my bed as some form of twisted torture?" He said with a smirk.

Sarah's eyes drifted to the chair tucked beneath the desk, drawn back to the empty spot beside her on the bed. Her pulse thrummed like the delicate wing's of a hummingbird when she thought of just how close she and the Goblin King would be if she were to lift up the sheets and welcomed him in. "I want you to stay," Sarah mumbled, feeling her cheeks heat.

"Then perhaps I'll join you precious, that chair doesn't offer much comfort whereas that bed looks far too enticing," he grinned, sauntering over to the bed. 

"Hmmm… or perhaps it's the prospect of being so close to what's already in the bed that's so appealing," he added with a sly wink and slid beneath the sheets.

"I'm sure your bed's much more comfortable than this hunk of cardboard," Sarah grimaced, prodding the mattresses hard surface..

"Yes, quite—" Jareth agreed with a look of distaste, "—however, my bed's a lot colder." 

He drew her into him and Sarah's breath hitched when his hand gently pressed into the dip of her back. The heat of his palm bled through the thin material of her t-shirt leaving her skin scorched. 

It was at that moment that she became hyper-aware of her state of undress. Only a t-shirt and a pair of knickers provided her with any form of modesty which left her feeling a little exposed. The feeling of such intimacy ignited the fire that burned in her soul for the fae king laying beside her. The very same fire that had coaxed her into exploring her own body. That had pushed her to release the indescribable pressure the flickering flames brought with them. 

"Sarah I feel we have much to discuss…" Jareth said after a brief lull in conversation.

"I don't want to talk about me right now, let's talk about you," she countered, thumbing the silver pendant hanging from his neck.

"Ah, my favourite subject," Jareth chuckled self-deprecatingly. "What is it you'd like to know?"

"Why now?".

"To put it rather bluntly, I finally decided to take my head out of my backside," he sighed. 

"The truth had been blatantly staring me in the face for the past three years but I just didn't want to accept it. My wounded pride and indignant anger wouldn't allow it." He drew gentle patterns down the length of her arm, sending shivers racing down her spine. 

"Alas, the gnawing ache and constant misery became too much and I had to see you. I couldn't deny how I felt any longer."

"What about the other women?" Sarah said, trying to ignore the spike of jealousy flaring in her gut.

"I wouldn't necessarily call palace concubines other women. I'd call them a way to prevent my bollocks from exploding."

He paused. 

"Aside from that, I was engaged for a brief period because I thought that planning a future would help me forget the pain of the past but I called it off and earned the scorn of the other kingdoms for dumping a fellow royal rather heartlessly."

"What was wrong with her?"

"She wasn't you Sarah, she just simply wasn't you."

Sarah's chest flooded with warmth while a smug smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "How did you find me?"

"I tried to see you in the crystals but nothing happened, so I asked to see your family and after seeing them with no problems but still unable to see you, I panicked," Jareth admitted as his hold on her tightened. 

"I took a trip to your family home and found your room devoid of life and all traces of you packed up in boxes and shoved in the closest which only served to heighten my panic, let me tell you." 

He pulled her closer still. So close that she could feel the strength of his lithe body and the steady drum of his heart. 

"I decided that I wasn't going to leave until I got answers and using my glamour, I disguised myself as your old English teacher who just so happened to drop by to see how his star pupil was doing."

Sarah toyed with the ends of his hair, propping her head up on her fist. 

"Your parents were very cold when I asked about you. Your stepmother was more concerned about the neighbours overhearing our conversation and your father, well… I'd never wanted to punch a man so much in my life." 

Sarah's stomach lurched, the pain of their rejection still raw. 

"When they told me where you were and why, I knew I had to see you Sarah. I had to make amends. I had to put things right between us. This has all gone on for too long and too much has been lost in the process, there's been too much hurt and suffering."

Stormy blue met emerald and Sarah swallowed, the magnetic pull she felt in her core growing in strength with every second that passed staring into that inky abyss. 

"I'm sorry about earlier, I just… I wish you'd have come sooner."

"Precious I wish I never walked away in the first place, I should have stayed, I should have listened… none of this would have happened if I hadn't been so pig-headed."

"You're the Goblin King, it's your prerogative to be at least a little pig-headed," Sarah smiled.

"Perhaps when it comes to matters of the kingdom but not when it comes to matters of the heart."

He cupped her cheek. 

"I don't have any control over the past but I have full control of the present and perhaps even the future because let me tell you Sarah-mine, now that I have you back, I will not under any circumstances let you go. You were made for me precious, we are but one soul inhabiting two separate bodies. We're fated Sarah, the tug you feel in your core is the power of destiny, there's no use in fighting against what's already been written…"

Sarah had to remind herself to breath, hearing him speak with such sincere affection rendered her insides proverbial mush. She was completely at his mercy, the power he had over her was irrefutable. 

Her gaze drifted from inky puddles of imprisoned moonlight ocean to his lips and she found herself wondering what would happen if she were to lean just a little closer. Would he respond in kind or would he pull away? 

Was it too soon for physical actions? 

She was answered by the raging inferno ablaze at her core and she knew irrevocably that when it came to her and Jareth, the concept of too soon just didn't exist. 

"I've missed you immensely precious," Jareth drawled, smoothing the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip to catch it between thumb and finger. "How I yearn to know the secret of those lips…" he said with a world-weary sigh.

"Kiss me Sarah," he whispered, tugging her trapped lip toward him.

Their lips met in a heated embrace, moulding like they were meant to fit. The immortal kings hands cupped either side of her jaw and her eyes fluttered closed as Sarah sank into the kiss, reaching to comb her fingers through spun silver. 

His tongue licked at the corner of her mouth, nudging until her lips eagerly parted and warm, wet tongues tangled to drink each other in. Jareth groaned and bit down against her lip, eliciting a needy whimper. He sucked her swollen lip, soothing the sting of sharp, hungry teeth.

Butterflies danced and swooped. The supernova in her soul setting off sparks. He made her feel safe and she wanted more of the gooey warmth she felt wrap around her heart. She'd been starved of touch for so long that she was eager —too eager perhaps— to feel more than just the ghost of his lips. 

She deepened the kiss, pulling him closer. Emboldened by the hurricane of bolstered emotions all directed at the handsome fae. Her breath hitched when he pushed into her body until she rolled back onto the hard mattress. 

He hovered over her, rocked into her slender, creamy thigh and hummed. Her hands grazed the muscles of his back as he propped one hand by her head to brace his weight, brushing stray strands of hair aside with the other. 

Jareth traced the landscape of her stomach, drawing patterns on her skin. She felt any reservations she'd had melt away with each caress. The binds tying her insecurities to her heart fraying. Unravelling into the ether. 

She felt light. 

"May I?" He whispered, tugging the hem of her t-shirt. 

Sarah nodded, arching as Jareth guided her t-shirt up over her head. She fell back against the mattress, her chest rising and falling as his hand curved around her waist. The pad of his thumb rubbed a tingling circle into her bare skin as he drew her into a slow, open-mouthed kiss. Her fingers reached to glide through feathersoft hair. His hips rocked against her and she felt a tight little knot form low in her stomach while the crotch of her knickers grew damp. 

Jareth kissed down the length of her neck, all teeth and tongue and she lost all coherent thought. His hand inched up over her stomach, creeping toward her sternum. She boldly caught his hand and brought it higher to cup her breasts, eliciting an approving groan. 

He dipped his head to tongue her peaked, dusky bud and her back arched. She felt his saliva drying on her bare skin in a cool caress. He nuzzled his nose across her sternum and tongued the other breast, suckling to tear a strangled moan from her throat. 

Sarah arched into him and shuddered when he fluttered kisses over every inch of bare skin. His tongue drew sweeping patterns that made that knot low in her stomach pull tighter. He shifted to straddle one thigh and gently nudged her thighs apart.

Soft thin lips ghosted the underside of her jaw while teasing fingers plucked at the waistband of her knickers. Sarah gripped his arm, staring up at him with wide eyes. 

"Do you trust me Sarah?" He whispered. 

"Yes," Sarah nodded, undoubtedly. 

"I want you to trust me but I fear that I don't deserve it," he said, resting his forehead against her brow. 

"I trust you, Jareth. You're here now and that's what matters. I know there's a lot to talk about but right now, I don't want to talk. I want to feel. My body belongs to you Jareth —only you and I want you to touch me…" She swallowed. 

Jareth stared down at her, a mixture of affection and raw hunger ablaze in his mis-matched eyes. "I'll ruin you for any other man, Sarah," he drawled. 

"You were made to be worshipped Sarah and I vow to worship every single inch of this beautiful body of yours." 

He gently caressed her ribcage, the featherlight touch made her skin pucker. Sarah gushed, flushing heat not only across her cheeks but somewhere much lower.  

The Goblin King nuzzled her breast and one hand slipped inside damp fabric —she was soaked for him. Her body responded to every beat, every sigh. He groaned into her stomach, the heat of his breath caressing her navel. Two fingers covered in sticky slick pushed against her hidden bud, stroking. 

"Does you approve?" He drawled slow against her mouth and her lips parted, eager to feel the wet heat of his tongue. 

Sarah palmed the sheets as Jareth tortured her with lazy rubs and her thighs parted wider on their own volition in a silent plea for more. The sound of his fingers meeting her slick heat mingled with her panting breaths, colouring her cheeks. 

"Oh Sarah, the sound of your pleasure is enough to bring me to my knees," he crooned against her ear, biting her lobe. 

He made her feel sexy —desirable. She didn't feel like the sad, hollow shell beneath his touch. Rather, she felt alive, suspended in anticipatory euphoria. 

"I could listen to it all night." 

He drew her into a hot, wet kiss and she couldn't speak, couldn't even think straight. Her toes curled as needy whimpers tumbled from her kiss swollen lips. His magic was concentrated in those slender fingers, a masterful conductor with her body his compliant instrument.

Fingers curled around the sheets while the other hand gripped his bicep and felt the muscles bulge and strain against hot, porcelain skin. Jareth breathed soft in her ear while her own breath hitched, ragged, as his lips ghosted the underside of her jaw and collarbone. 

The knot pulled tighter when his thumb drew circles against her clit. Slender fingers scissored, working in tandem with those deft, purposeful rubs to drive her to the edge. "Let go Sarah…" he whispered, grazing her lips. 

Her body was a pressure cooker, fizzing and shuddering on the brink of explosion. The knot frayed until if finally snapped sending liquid fire rocketing through her veins. Her stomach tightened, every muscle in her body tensed with the most delectable ache. 

Sarah collapsed utterly spent and Jareth pushed himself onto his knees, his mouth curved in knowing smirk. He winced, palming his crotch in a bid to ease the ache she knew he must be feeling judging by the rigid bulge straining against silk. 

"I want to see you," she whispered. 

Jareth momentarily hesitated before obediently tugging off his sleep pants —God, he was beautiful. Hard lines of lithe muscle cut down his hips. Neat, platinum curls. Thick and hard. 

She chewed her lip —she wanted to make him feel as good as he'd made her feel. 

She found herself eager and ready to experiment, to chase the pleasure that she knew only he could give her and that she wanted to give him in return. 

She shuffled to kneel between his spread legs and pushed him back to brace his weight on his hands. She trailed wet, experimental kisses down the length of his abs and licked his tip. Her confidence grew when she heard his breath hitch and his cock twitched against her chin. She repeated the action and took his head in her mouth to gently suck. 

Jareth groaned as salty pre-cum leaked down his shaft and she swallowed him down. "Sarah," he hissed, his hands furling around the sheets. She bobbed a few times before drawing back to lap at his leaking tip. She teased the length of his shaft with her tongue before once again sinking down, much more confident in her actions than she'd been the first time. 

He was big —thick— and she struggled to take all of him but worshipped what she could. Relishing in the way he groaned as she built up a steady rhythm. His spine arched, the muscles in his arms and legs bunching beneath alabaster skin. 

She curled her fist around him. Stroked. Kissed. Jareth tensed, his jaw set. "Gods… Sarah…" He groaned, the sound of her name falling from his lips made her insides glow. 

He thrust into her palm, his tip grazing her tongue that eagerly licked, tasted and teased. With a guttural groan, he jerked back, covering himself with his hand as his release gushed. Hot, milky spurts seeped between their fingers as he moaned. 

"Why did you stop me?" She frowned, peering up at him as he tried to catch his breath. "I haven't done it before —was it not good?" 

"Gods no Sarah, it felt too good. You didn't have me in your mouth and if I didn't stop you I'd have done something unbefitting of a king to his queen," he huffed a laugh. 

"Especially a queen with beauty such as yours —your face is far too pretty to be covered with filth." 

Sarah grimaced with a laugh. "Umm.. thanks?" 

"Come," he beckoned her with a curled finger and drew her into a succession of soft, lazy kisses.

"Are you OK Sarah? I feel I may have perhaps gotten a little carried away," Jareth drawled, stroking her flushed cheek.

Sarah shook her head, giving him a beaming smile in response, "I think we both did…" she chewed her lip coyly.

"You're so beautiful..." he whispered with a soft sigh, mesmerised by her soft, glowing features.

"You're sort of beautiful too..." 

"Sort of?" He cocked his head.

"Can you really call a guy beautiful?" She frowned, and the Goblin King chuckled.

"You can call me whatever you want, though I do advise you to exercise caution, I am a king after all," he grinned, kissing her softly and drew her into his arms, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck with a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked, tilting his chin with her finger.

"This can't continue Sarah, you can't stay in this vile place…"

Jareth stared at the room with outward disdain. "Come with me to the Underground Sarah. I promise I'll take care of you, you'll never want for anything and I'll make it my duty to make you the happiest woman in the world. 

I didn't plan to bombard you with this notion so soon but we cannot factor time into what we have. As far as I'm concerned, time is irrelevant and we've spent far too much of it apart. I want you to be the first thing I see when I wake and the last thing I see before I sleep. Please Sarah —come with me," Jareth urged, softly nudging her lips.

Warmth bloomed in her chest. "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that," she said, tracing his ethereally beautiful features with the pad of her thumb.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes," she beamed. "But I'd like to say goodbye to Jodie first —would it be OK if we waited for tomorrow?"

Jareth groaned and flopped onto his back, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "Must I really spend another night alone?"

"What's one more night in comparison to eternity?" 

"You'll pay for this Sarah Williams."

"I wouldn't expect anything less, Goblin King."

Chapter 8: Going Home

The nib of his fountain pen glided over stiff parchment, the black ink coiling and swirling in the king's impeccable, practised, cursive. 

The only sound in the king's study was the repetitive scratch of the pen's nib against parchment and the rhythmic tick-tock of the clock's swinging pendulum. 

Jareth signed the correspondence and neatly folded it before slipping it into a waiting envelope. He dripped wax over the lid of the envelope and stamped it with his signature seal, setting it on top of the pile of paperwork he'd already approved, denied, ignored or ordered and exhaled a heavy sigh. 

He leant back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair, his mind wondering to his favourite topic of contemplation —Sarah. He could still taste her on his tongue. Could still the ghost of her inquisitive fingertips. The build-up of desire and reverence he held for his love had caused his self-control to wane, and he'd pushed his precious to her own limits of restraint, finding to his advantage that she had none.

Jareth's face broke in a smug smirk, drumming his fingers against the polished surface of his desk. The same fingers that had felt the wet heat of her core trickle between them. God's, the scent of spiced peaches and vanilla had lingered on his skin for hours after they'd parted. 

The Goblin King sighed, gazing at the high ceiling as he considered his next move. He could just simply teleport her back to the Underground from her room like he'd planned to last night. However, that would involve erasing her memory and he didn't want to do that. 

He wanted those who'd mistreated her to remember her. He wanted them to live with the guilt of imprisoning his starlight and shattering her soul. He wanted the injustice of it all to eat away at them like maggots on rotting fruit. 

Furthermore, as for her wretched parents, he hadn't quite decided what he was going to do with them, but they weren't going to be left unscathed —that he was sure of.

Jareth clicked his fingers to produce a crisp, blank piece of paper. He threaded it into his laughably ancient, type-writer, his fingers hovering over the brass buttons worn with age. 

"I think you're in for a transfer precious —G.K. Rehabilitation Retreat awaits you."

---

"I can't believe you're bailing on me," Jodie pouted, swinging her legs back and forth from her perch on the bathroom sink.

"I can't believe how hairy my legs are," Sarah said with a grimace, dragging Jodie's contraband razor up the length of her leg, all the while silently hoping that last night Jareth had been too horny to notice her furry appendages.

"I'm serious Sar," Jodie hopped down from the sink to lean against the wall opposite. "You're my only friend in this shithole. Who am I supposed to talk to about immoral sex and how the coffee tastes like piss warmed up when you're gone?"

Sarah ran the blade of the razor beneath the faucet before turning her attention back to her sombre friend with a sad smile. "I'm gonna miss you too, Jodes…"

"Are you sure it's really him? Are you sure the guy isn't some serial killer masquerading as a doctor and once he gets you outta here, he's gonna slit your throat and bury you in the woods?" Jodie said, brow arched and arms folded across her chest.

"Wow Jodie, way to piss on a girl's bonfire," Sarah huffed a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. 

"No, it's definitely Jareth…" she said, lowering her gaze to her feet. She could feel puddles of heat blossom on her cheeks when memories of the previous night came to mind.

"Oh yeah? Has he been secretly visiting you at night to pound you with his royal cock?" Jodie grinned. 

"Jodie!" Sarah gasped, swatting at her shoulder. "He's done no such thing!"

"Well you've done something, I can see it on your face —you've got that post-orgasmic glow going on," her friend said, clearly unwilling to let the subject drop.

Sarah sighed, knowing there was no-way out but to tell the truth —in as little detail as possible. "Look, I called for him last night and things kind of got a little heated… hands wandered and satisfaction followed…" she said, breezing passed Jodie who was fit to burst.

Jodie released a giddy squeal, skipping around Sarah to block her path. "Tell me more, tell me more," she sing-songed.

"Like does he have a car?" Sarah smirked and Jodie giggled.

"Buzzkill," Jodie pouted, prodding Sarah's ribs. "What time is Dr Feel Good coming for you anyway?"

"He didn't say, I guess he could show up anytime…"

"I guess this could be goodbye then?" Jodie frowned and the air grew heavy as if shrouded by a blanket of bittersweet memories of their friendship. 

"Though I don't want you to leave purely for selfish reasons, I'm genuinely stoked for you Sar. I've never doubted your word and in the end, you're proving everyone who ever called you a liar wrong. I hope this Goblin King treats you like the queen that you are," she said, her voice breaking.

Sarah was quick to draw her in a fierce embrace, her vision growing misty. "You don't know how much you believing me meant Jodie… I'll never forget that. I hope that what you and Chase have is genuine and that one day, you'll break out of here too and you'll get to be together properly —you've been an amazing friend."

"Love you dude," Jodie sniffled.

"Love you too Jodes," Sarah smiled. 

Jodie pulled back, wiping at her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve. "I'm gonna go before I start snotting all over you and clinging to your leg, demanding you take me with you."

She playfully pinched Sarah's cheeks. "Keep safe Sarah Williams, future Goblin Queen."

The door clicked back into the frame and Sarah sank onto the end of the bed, her eyes roaming the dreary walls of the room that had imprisoned her for almost three years. 

A sudden influx of emotion hit her —she was finally free of the chains that had bound her. Free of the rope that wrapped around her neck, rendering her mute. She was finally free of the judgement, the shame and the loneliness. She was finally able to rip off the labels that had tarnished her soul. 

Her eyes landed on the faces she's spent hours sketching from memory alone. Each line, wrinkle and spark of emotion ingrained like an iron brand in her mind. "I'm going home," she whispered to the empty room with a smile as tears of relief trickled down her cheeks.

---

Sarah paced her room, anxiously thumbing the hem of her sweater. She was restless. Her patience was practically nonexistent as the promise of escaping the facility loomed within reach, like a carrot dangled in the face of a rabbit. 

She exhaled a nerve-steadying breath, willing herself to calm down. Jareth would arrive soon and her nose would never burn from the acrid scent of chemicals. Her bones would never ache from sleeping on a mattress akin to a sheet of cardboard. She'd never have to listen as people talked about her like she wasn't there —listening to them debate her mental state like how she felt didn't matter. 

Most of all, she'd no longer feel the all-consuming loneliness that chilled her soul, tearing at the remnants of her broken heart.

The door to the room swung open and Sarah's heart leapt into her throat. Her stomach gave a nervous flutter when the prospect of seeing Jareth filled her heart with warm fuzzy joy. 

Sarah's joy was quickly extinguished like ice water on flames when she spun on her heel and came face-to-face with the woman who she was convinced loathed her very existence —nurse Pratchett. 

The metaphorical boulder settled in the pit of her stomach on seeing the sadistic glee dance in nurse Pratchett's eyes. "Well, well well… What do we have here? The resident pathological liar all alone," she said with a dark chuckle, setting Sarah's medication on the desk.

"I do believe we have a score to settle Williams, wouldn't you say so?"

---

Jareth was running slightly behind schedule. He'd lost track of time ensuring that preparations were under way for Sarah's arrival at the castle and suffice to say, he was feeling rather frazzled. 

Nevertheless, the thought of his love accompanying him back to the Underground kept a pep in his step. 

He stepped out of the elevator on the third floor and strode down the hall. His stride was purposeful, the thought of his starlight back in his arms where she belonged evoking a longing ache in his heart. 

Jareth paused outside Sarah's room, confused by the sudden creeping sense that something wasn't right. He tuned into the muffled conversation behind the door and a flare of anger burned him from the inside out. 

"No-one's going to believe you Sarah, everyone knows you're delusional," a familiar hateful voice sneered and Jareth forced himself to keep his composure.

He noiselessly stepped into the room, shielding the door with his magic. His eyes remained trained on the loathsome nurse rounding in on his Sarah, backing her into the corner. "I'm going to knock some sense into you child. So help me I'm going to make it my mission to break whatever hope you have of getting out of here. No wonder your parents abandoned you —your mother should have swallowed," nurse Pratchett spat, hand swinging outward to slap Sarah across the face with her open palm.

Jareth growled, rage turning the blood coursing through his veins to liquid lava. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" He said, his tone flat and cold. Belying his seething fury that whirled around him like icy, winter winds.

Nurse Pratchett spun around and her eyes widened in shock while Sarah cowered in the corner, holding her swollen cheek in her hand. The sound of his love's quiet sobs broke his heart and he felt his unassuming mask slip, revealing his true self.

"What… W-who are you?" Nurse Pratchett backed herself against the wall, the blubber beneath her chin quivering as her lip trembled in fear.

"Who am I?" Jareth snarled, towering over the pitiful excuse of a woman. "I, you snivelling sack of flesh am the Goblin King, king of dreams and wishes and in your case nurse Pratchett —the weaver of nightmares and unluckily for you, you just struck and insulted my future queen." 

"I-I'm sorry, I—" the nurse stammered pathetically.

"Silence you fool!" Jareth snapped, trapping her jaw between leaden fingers. "I do not wish to hear your pitiful excuses. The word of an insufferable dreck such as you nurse Pratchett is not worth the oxygen wasted to speak it," he hissed, releasing her with a solid shove. 

His lips curled in a satisfied smirk when her head bounced against the wall with an audible crack. With a snap of his fingers, Jareth produced a crystal, weaving the glass orb between his fingers while a sinister grin distorted his handsome features. 

"You speak of wishing to break my queen, did you not nurse Pratchett? Well, I'm afraid that the only one who will leave this room broken is you. 

When I'm finished with you, you're not going to be able to differentiate fantasy from fiction, all you'll be able to feel is the cold, icy fingers of dread while your worst fears come to life before your very eyes. Your vocal cords will snap under the pressure of your terrified screams whilst your heart will be forever scarred —weakened until the day it finally stops beating."

"Please, I—"

"Shut up you loathsome creature," Jareth hissed, gripping her jaw so hard his nails dug into her leathery flesh. 

He brought the crystal in line with her eyes and the room filled with the sound of the nurses' horrified screams. Her worst nightmares swirled and danced within the crystal, burying themselves in her brain with invisible hooked tendrils. Each terrifying vision left it's brand of pain, torment and misery —just like she herself had left her hateful scar on his love. 

The crystal remained hovering in front her eyes and Jareth stepped away, leaving her to slump to the floor in a heap of mental anguish. 

"Sarah," he spoke softly, prising her hands from her face. His love exhaled a hitching sob and sank into his arms, her delicate fingers clinging to his velvet cloak, her tears leaving his shirt damp. 

"Ssshh… it's alright precious, I'm with you." 

Sarah's quiet sobs slowly subsided and Jareth gently pushed her back, his eyes searching her blotchy face. His lips ghosted the flushed skin of her cheeks, kissing away the remnants of her tears. "It's time to leave precious and you're going to walk out of that door with your head held high, do you hear me Sarah? You do not belong here."

"But how? You can't just expect them to let me leave with you," Sarah hiccuped, her eyes drifting to the hypnotised nurse.

Jareth snapped his fingers to produce the documentation he'd typed up earlier that morning. "Everything is in order Sarah —as far as anyone else is aware, you're transferring facilities," he assured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. 

"Now, let's deal with this mess and get out of here —this place makes me bloody itch," his fave twisted in disgust and Sarah huffed a laugh, moving to grab the few belongings she had. 

Jareth re-situated himself with his glamour and vanished the crystal before lifting the shield from the door. He popped his head around the door to the room. "Security!" he called, a pillar of calm amongst chaos, shooting Sarah a wink over his shoulder. 

A herd of footsteps trampled down the hall before both members of security and fellow doctors filed into the room. A chorus of gasps accompanied dropped jaws when staff members set sights on the nurse slumped mumbling gibberish on the floor.

"What happened?" One of the doctors frowned, crouching in front of the horrified nurse to shine a penlight into her hollow, piggish eyes.

"I don't know what to tell you doctor, the woman simply snapped," Jareth said, carding his fingers through his impeccably neat. 

"She attacked my patient and started ranting and raving about nonsense I could make no sense of. I do believe she needs a healthy dose of sedation and a padded room —perhaps a straight jacket," he tacked on the end, suppressing his smirk when a strangled noise of amusement stuck in Sarah's throat. .

"Are you alright Sarah?" Caragh, Sarah's key-worker hurried into the room.

"She's fine but if I hadn't arrived when I did, who knows what would have happened," Jareth said pointedly, his disapproval blatantly obvious. 

"I feel Sarah is no longer safe at this facility, neither is it suited to her particular needs. Thus, I've taken the liberty of arranging a transfer to which I have the documentation here," he said, handing Caragh the faultlessly forged papers. 

"I understand that it is short notice but after this little charade, I do feel it is certainly the right decision."

Caragh looked over the paperwork, her brows furrowed in concentration. "G.K Rehabilitation Retreat? I've never heard of it."

"Oh, you haven't? Shame, it's a wonderful facility, I set it up myself," Jareth smiled, feigning interest in his nails.

"G.K, as in Gareth King?" 

"Yes," the Goblin King smiled tightly. "Now, as you can imagine I'm a very busy man and I'd like to be on my way."

"Oh, of course," Caragh gave him a bashful smile. "Good luck Sarah, it was a pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you," Sarah smiled. Caragh looked genuinely gobsmacked hearing her speak which only made Jareth all the more smug. He ushered Sarah out of the room and lead her down the hall with the sound of nurse Pratchett's garbled screams carrying on the air behind them.

By the time they reached the lobby, Sarah's stomach was fluttering with butterflies. Flitting wings swooped and danced in a flurry beneath her sternum while her heart drummed a giddy rhythm and her legs itched to break into a sprint. 

Sarah stepped out of the facility and was hit with a rush of disorientation —this was it, there was no going back. She peeked at Jareth from the corner of her eye, noting the triumphant smile on his face, his expression for all intents and purposes, mimicking one of the cat that got the cream. 

Jareth slowed his pace when they reached the forest and Sarah turned, taking one last look at the place that only days ago, she thought she'd never escape. She looked up at the third floor, catching sight of a familiar figure in one of the windows. Sarah smiled, raising her hand in a small wave as she felt Jareth's arms wrap around her shoulder. 

"Now precious, I must warn you that the first time teleporting may leave you slightly nauseous," Jareth warned, kissing her crown. Without further warning, she felt the earth beneath her feet disappear, overcome with the sensation of free-falling as the world around her became one big blur.

Once her head finally stopped spinning she found herself surrounded by vaguely familiar stone walls. Sarah shadowed Jareth on liquid legs as he led her down a dimly lit corridor. The flickering flames hidden within golden sconces lining the walls lit her path in a soft, glow. 

Jareth paused midway down the corridor and turned to face her with a smile. "Welcome home precious," he sighed softly, like he'd been waiting a long time to say the words. 

He gently stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I hope everything is to your satisfaction, I've been barking orders at my staff all morning. This is your chambers Sarah," he motioned to a set of mahogany doors adorned with the calligraphic carving of the letter 'Q'.

"I have my own room? But I thought… I thought we'd share a room?" Sarah blushed, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Every queen has her own chambers, precious. Whether she chooses to use it or not is of her own personal choice —my chambers are opposite," he winked, motioning to the doors on the other side of the corridor adorned with the letter 'K' in a similar style.

The fae king twisted the brass handle and ushered her inside. "This is all for me?" Sarah gasped, looking around in disbelief.

"What a redundant question Sarah-mine, of course it's all yours," Jareth chuckled. "Why don't you take a look around."

Needing no further prompt, Sarah edged further into the room. She couldn't stop staring —the place was huge. 

A sitting room of sorts greeted her on first entering, the walls the same familiar citrine quartz as the walls that lined the corridor outside. The floor was a varnished mahogany with a gold-speckled marble fireplace that took pride of place in the centre of the room. 

The fireplace was surrounded by two crimson wing-back chairs and a plush, crushed velvet couch in the same colour. In front of the fireplace lay a luxurious, damask patterned rug, its decorative weaving in hues of eggplant and gold. 

Resting against the back wall was a solid, ebony bookcase stuffed with leather-bound tomes and pristine paperbacks. Alongside it, sat a drinks cart stocked with decanters brimming with cherry and rich amber liquid, neither of which she could identify from sight alone.

Sarah padded through an archway that led into a lavish bedroom. The walls were decorated with weighty tapestries —one portraying a serene sunset and the other, a mezze of colourful flowers. A ridiculously extravagant four-poster bed was pushed against the wall in the centre of the room, its posts draped with rich purple voile with the canopy the same rich purple. 

The bed sheets looked were silk, the same luxe crimson as the chairs and couch in the sitting room. Beside the bed sat identical mahogany cabinets —one decorated with a vase of red roses and the other with a vase of pretty violets. A chest of drawers sat on one side of the room and a huge closet was built into the other. A mahogany vanity sat opposite the bed, sporting a tri-fold mirror and various knick-knacks and padded stool.

"Wow…".

"You missed something precious," Jareth said with a smirk, pointing to a door that she hadn't noticed in the corner of the room.

"There's more?" Her eyes widened.

"See for yourself," he chuckled.. 

Sarah eagerly dashed to the door and pulled it open, squealing in delight. The bathroom was floor to ceiling marble. Above a marble counter hung a heavy, antique mirror positioned between two golden sconces. 

In the furthest corner from the door was a large, waterfall shower and in the middle of the room, carved into the floor itself was a humongous roman-style bath. On the wall behind the bath were shelves stocked with various soaps, oils and fluffy towels. 

The fragrant perfume of Jasmine lingered in the air and Sarah breathed in deeply, exhaling a content sigh. In a state of incredulity, Sarah returned to the sitting room to find Jareth stood speaking to an unfamiliar woman. 

The woman was slight of build, with a waterfall of liquid gold hair that came to rest by her slender waist. Her facial features were sharp but nevertheless elegantly beautiful. Her eyes were a soft lilac, framed by long, golden lashes. "My lady," the woman curtsied, her silken hair billowing over her face.

"Sarah, this is Kaylin. I've taken the liberty and assigned her as your lady in waiting. Anything you desire, you just need to ask her. 

She's going to be taking your measurements now in order to fit you with a new wardrobe and after that, if you want to sleep you may dismiss her of her duties. I have some duties to attend to so please, precious, make yourself comfortable in the meantime," Jareth smiled, dropping a chaste kiss to her brow before excusing himself.

"Nice to uh… nice to meet you Kaylin," Sarah said with an awkward smile, unsure of herself.

"The pleasures all mine, my lady," Kaylin beamed, her sharp features softening.

"So… Jareth said something about measuring me for clothes?" Sarah rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes drifting to the horrendous sweater and pants combo she was wearing.

"Yes, your majesty," Kaylin smiled, conjuring a measuring tape out of thin air.

Perhaps having a lady in waiting wasn't going to be so bad after all… Sarah mused, enthralled by the measuring tape levitating between the two of them.

"Right, please take off your clothes, my lady."

OK, maybe she spoke too soon…

---

Jareth groaned. His head thudding against the surface of his desk —sometimes being king was a royal pain in the arse. 

Despite waging through a sea of correspondence earlier that morning, he was drowning in yet another influx of absolute dreck. Growing evermore frustrated by his commitments as king when all he wanted to do was make sure Sarah was OK. 

Just because she wore a smile on her beautiful face, it didn't mean that the trauma she'd suffered over the past three years had been erased. Taking her rightful place in his castle was only the start of her journey. Jareth was under no illusions. He knew his future queen had a long road ahead of her to recovery. 

As the Goblin King fantasised about rescinding his crown and making a run for the hills to escape the pile of monotonously dull duties, a loud knock sounded on the doors to his study. "Enter," he instructed, reclining back in his chair to take a well deserved break.

"Good evening, your majesty," Jax, the king's long-serving advisor bowed, crossing the room to the desk. "Keeping yourself busy, I see?"

"I do have a kingdom to run, you know," Jareth responded with a smirk, folding his hands in his lap. 

"What can I do for you Jaxon?"

"Kendrick is requesting a number for dinner —will our lady be joining us? She took lunch in her room with Kaylin but perhaps she'd like the choice to dine with the rest of us tonight?"

"I don't wish to overwhelm her Jaxon, she's still fragile," the king grimaced.

"Perhaps you should ask her rather than making assumptions your majesty —you wouldn't want to leave her feeling isolated."

"Perish the thought," Jareth sighed, massaging his temples. "Fine, I'll ask her."

Jaxon nodded approvingly and said, "I shall give word to Kendrick."

"Was there anything else?" Jareth inquired, pulling a face and flicked at a rather obnoxious letter from the Dwarf King —pretentious prig with his kingdom full of haughty midgets.

"No your majesty, that was all."

"Very well. Please, take these to be posted to the corresponding Kingdoms, I'm going to retire to my chambers —I'll ask Sarah to dinner on my way," Jareth rose, handing his advisor a stack of letters.

---

The Goblin King stood outside his queen's chambers. He breathed in the heady scent of spiced peaches and rich vanilla. It was enough to make his mouth water. 

He lightly rapped on the door, stepping into the room to find Sarah curled up on one end of the couch in the sitting room. Her damp chocolate tresses were gathered in a messy bun atop her head and she wore the same outfit she'd worn that morning, only it was noticeably cleaner. 

Sarah looked up from the book she was reading, a shy blush colouring her pretty, pale features on seeing him. "Hey," she smiled, placing the book face down on the armrest of the sofa.

"How are you feeling precious?" Jareth inquired, joining her on the couch.

"A tad overwhelmed in all honesty, but in a good way," she replied, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"As long as it's in a good way, starlight," he said, kissing her crown. "Say, how do you feel about joining me for dinner? Or would you perhaps prefer to dine in your chambers? The last thing I want is you to feel overwhelmed in a negative way."

"I'd like to join you," she peered up at him from beneath lush, thick lashes, her lips turned up in a small smile. "I just have one question…"

"Hmmm and what's that precious?"

"I'm not sure how this works between kings and queens, not in reality anyway —not that I'm referring to myself as queen either," she flustered and Jareth couldn't stifle his smile. "What do I call you?"

Jareth chuckled. "When we're alone, or with those beneath our status you may call me Jareth," he replied.

"Or I should say that I'd prefer you to call me Jareth when we're alone," he quickly amended, hoping he saved himself from sounding pretentious.

"And in front of others who are of similar status?"

"Then any royal title will suffice." 

"OK, got it," she smiled, melting his heart.

---

"Are you serious right now?" Sarah pointed toward her miraculously fully-stocked closet. It was brimming with dresses made from the most luxurious fabric, all in a multitude of rich, decadent colours. 

"How did they do all this so quickly —you literally took my measurements a few hours ago?" she padded over to the chest of drawers to find it packed with lingerie and nightgowns.

"The seamstresses are of the fae my lady, they use magic. Could you imagine a human doing this work? It would take weeks if not months."

"Or you know, the king could just send someone to the market and buy the clothes rather than having them handmade," Sarah countered with a shrug.

Kaylin gasped like Sarah had said something extremely offensive. "Oh no your highness, the monarchy cannot possibly wear the clothes of peasants."

"I've not been crowned queen yet. The king and I have only recently reunited with one another so there's still time for him to change his mind. Therefore, I'm still very much a peasant as you say, so please just call me Sarah."

"Do not speak so lowly of yourself my lady, you are the future queen and shall be treated as such. Now, should we pick a dress for dinner?"

Sarah decided it was probably wise to drop the argument and admit defeat. Kaylin was fae and could easily magically zip her mouth closed or something and she wasn't so sure how she'd feel about that. 

Sarah followed Kaylin to the closet, her eyes appraising the array of dresses with newly sparked interest. "What about that one?" she pointed to a crushed velvet gown in a rich, red wine.

"As you wish my lady," Kaylin smiled, picking out the dress to lay it out on the bed. "First, let me do something with your hair. Forgive me your majesty but at present, it's more akin to a bird's nest."

Sarah snorted a laugh. "I like you Kaylin." 

Sarah had an inkling that perhaps the queen forming friendships with her staff was frowned upon, but she already felt a kindred connection with the pretty fae. Plus, it would be nice to have friends, she was sure in a humongous castle such as Jareth's, it would be quite easy to feel lonely. 

Kaylin's pale complexion flushed a faint pink and her thin lips turned up in a beaming smile. "I'm growing rather fond of you too, my lady. I'm happy that the king has been fated with one such as yourself to be his queen. He needs someone like you, it would be hell on earth if his queen was destined to be someone equally as haughty and pretentious."

"Are you speaking ill of the king, Kaylin?" Sarah smirked, noting Kaylin's eyes widen in the reflection of the mirror.

"Do forgive me my lady, I did not—" Kaylin flustered, and Sarah giggled, biting her lip in amusement.

"Relax Kaylin, I was just joking —I know exactly how haughty and pretentious the Goblin King can be."

"Oh, you are a cruel mistress, your majesty," Kaylin tittered, shaking her head in amusement as she began to comb through Sarah's untamed locks.

---

Sarah stared at herself in the mirror, unable to believe that it was her own reflection staring back at her. 

Kaylin had pinned her hair in a high bun, leaving a lock of hair to fall either side of her jaw. She'd lightly powdered her face, concealing the evidence of her exhaustion. 

The dress she'd picked out was form-fitting and clung to her curves, draping perfectly over her hips. The crushed velvet fabric felt luxurious against her skin and the colour seemed to contrast well with the vivid green of her eyes. 

The bodice of the dress was adorned with swirling gold-thread and a heart-shaped neckline that showed just a glimpse of cleavage, while the skirt fell to the floor, covering her feet. 

Kaylin had picked out a pair of black suede pumps for her to pair with the dress and Sarah was grateful that she hadn't picked anything with a heel. 

"Now do you feel more like a queen?" Kaylin smiled, smoothing the skirt of her dress over her thighs.

"I don't know, it doesn't even look like me. Where did the dorky, book-worm go?" Sarah laughed, twisting her body in the mirror to check out the back of her dress.

"She's still in here—" Kaylin placed a dainty hand over Sarah's heart, "—she just had a little make-over, that's all. Being queen doesn't mean you have to change who you are, my lady."

"But everything has changed…" Sarah whispered, her eyes pooling with unprecedented tears.

"My lady, please don't get upset. I'm aware that this is hard for you, it was hard for me too when I first left home, everything was new and scary. But you'll become accustomed to everything with time, I'm sure of it."

"But you came from this world Kaylin. I'm human, I don't have a clue what I'm doing, and everything is just completely overwhelming. I'm so happy to be with Jareth but I can't help but feel out of place…" she sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief Kaylin produced.

"Would her majesty permit me to perhaps embrace her?" Kaylin murmured shyly.

"Please do," Sarah nodded, clinging to the fae like she was an anchor. 

"Just take one day at a time my lady, that's all that I can suggest and if there comes a time that you feel overwhelmed then you can speak to me or even his majesty —he seems rather keen on your welfare," Kaylin smiled.

"Thanks Kaylin, I'm sorry I ruined your hard-work," Sarah exhaled a shaky breath, wiping her swollen eyes.

"It's not a problem, Sarah," Kaylin said, brushing off her concerns and setting her off all over again.

Chapter 9: Unworthy

It had been a few hours since Jareth had escorted Sarah back to her room after dinner. Ab unexpected matter arose that he had to attend to and Sarah was once again left alone. 

Once left to her own devices, the warm, fuzzy feeling of affection she held toward the fae king unfortunately were not enough to block out the hateful voices in her mind. She couldn't seem to find solace in her surroundings, nor could she find comfort with only her own traitorous whispering mind for company. 

Sarah sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed, staring at the tapestry opposite that hung from ceiling to floor. The more she stared at the intricate artwork, the more she noticed —like the way the vivid colours depicting the setting sun seemed to glitter in the low light and how the sprawling grassy landscape beyond the horizon seemed to sway when she studied it from different angles.

Sarah tilted her head to the side, entranced by the seemingly sentient landscape when she spotted the thick golden rope hanging beside the tapestry. Why hadn't she noticed it before? It was so blatantly obvious. 

Inquisitively, Sarah slid off the bed and padded over to the wall hanging, her eyes following the plaited gold rope up to where it connected to the pole holding the decadent artwork in place. 

She cautiously reached out and lightly tugged on the rope, not really expecting it to serve any purpose other than being another element to the elaborate decoration. She was taken aback however, when the tapestry slowly slid to the side, leaving her staring dumbly at a set of mahogany framed French doors that led out onto an stone balcony.

Sarah reached out towards the doors, her hand nervously hovering over the handle. Exhaling a shaky breath, she opened the doors and cautiously stepped out onto the balcony. The stone was cool on the pads of her bare feet. 

Her nightdress ruffled in the warm night air, caressing the backs of her calves in a way that sent shivers rippling down her spine. Sarah stepped up to the wall of the balcony, her hands curving around the cool stone as she took in the sight that greeted her. 

The moon hung full and low in the inky night sky, the clear canvas dotted with a million glittering stars. From her vantage point she was able to look down upon the immense kingdom. The Labyrinth she'd once navigated to win back her baby brother Toby loomed poignantly in the distance and she found it looked so much bigger than she remembered.

She cast her gaze over the ghosts of her past and a flood of memories pummelled her one after the other. The first time the Goblin King had appeared in her parent's bedroom, captivating and intimidating. The first time she'd met Hoggle urinating in a pond outside the Labyrinth. 

The first time she'd met Ludo and Sir Didymus. The times Jareth had tried to ruin her progress with the Labyrinth by sending in the cleaners and then ordering Hoggle to feed her the enchanted peach. 

The memory of the two of them dancing in the ballroom as he sang to her, his stormy blue eyes bearing down on her soul. The memory of beating the Labyrinth and what Jareth had offered her which she'd callously turned away, unable to understand the feelings that were at war with her naivety. 

The memory of her realisation. The memory of her desperate chase through the woods. The memory of Jareth's dismissal and his refusal to listen to what she had to say. The memory of watching him walk away. The memory of falling apart at the seams only for no one to even try and piece her back together. Rather she was abandoned and isolated, branded like cattle ready for market —insane, delusional, pathological liar.

Sarah stumbled back into the bedroom, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste. Her stomach sank to her knees and she clung to the bedpost in an attempt to keep herself upright on liquid legs. 

She exhaled short shallow pants as a thousand thoughts prodded at her emotionally exhausted brain. "What if he changes his mind?" Sarah panted. 

"What if he takes me back there?" she croaked, sagging to her knees. 

She was terrified that she wasn't going to be enough for Jareth. It was improbable that she was truly marked to be the next Goblin Queen. She could barely take care of herself, could barely keep her shit together. 

How was she going to be able to keep a kingdom afloat and its inhabitants happy? 

She wasn't queen material, she wasn't worthy of the title, nor was she worthy of the king himself.

"Oh God… he's going to know… he's going to realise how unworthy I am…" Sarah sobbed, fisting her hair as she sank further into the stone floor. 

Her father's voice echoed in her mind, re-living the memories like it was her reality. 

'No one's going to want you Sarah, even I no longer wish to be associated with you, you're a disgrace to the family name.' 

Her chest tightened as she descended further into hysteria. She began to panic even more, her mind whispering the wicked notion that she was going to die there alone —suffocating on her own tears with no one to comfort her as she took her last ragged breaths.

"Sarah?" A soft voice broke through her hysteria and she looked up with wide, watery eyes to find Kaylin staring down at her, a look of concern on her pretty face. 

"My lady, what's wrong? Are you sick?"

"I can't do this Kaylin," Sarah wept. "He's going to see —he's going to know!" she screeched feverishly, clawing wildly at her tautening throat. 

"I… can't… breathe…"

"I'm going to get the king," Kaylin stammered, disappearing out of sight before Sarah could muster the breath to protest. 

Sarah braced her hands on the floor, the tears rolling down her cheeks dripped to the floor, where they gathered in a puddle beneath her. 

"Sarah," Jareth's drawl broke the suffocating silence that consumed her before she felt a pair of warm hands lightly clasp her bare shoulders.

She raised her head, meeting the kings worried, sapphire eyes and manically gripped his forearms. "You're going to realise how unworthy I am of you Jareth —I don't belong here," she sobbed, her vision obscured by her tears.

Jareth's hands moved from her shoulders to cup her cheeks. "You are my queen Sarah and you do belong here. You're worth more than I can ever possibly give you but dammit I'm going to try," he urged, stroking the pad of his thumb beneath her eyes.

"I'm broken… I'm… I'm scarred," she bared her wrists where silvery pink scars marred the smooth surface. "Once you realise… you won't want me, you'll send me back," she wailed pitifully.

"Stop this," Jareth demanded, his grip on her face tightening slightly. "You need to calm down Sarah."

"But I-"

"Calm down," he repeated, and Sarah felt a flood of relaxation wash over her in a blissful, comforting wave. 

She breathed in deep to exhale slowly, repeating the process until the tightness in her chest started to fade and she found that she could swallow without it feeling like trying to squeeze a truck through a keyhole. 

"Kaylin," the king called on Sarah's lady in waiting while Sarah composed herself, the once ragged, body-shaking sobs, now a silent stream of tears.

"Yes your majesty?" Kaylin appeared in the archway.

"Please bring some camomile tea and something sweet," he calmly requested.

"Of course your highness," Kaylin curtsied and obediently scurried away.

"Come, the couch is much more comfortable than the floor," Jareth said, guiding Sarah to her feet. 

He kept a loose grip on her arm, the warmth of his hand scorching against her clammy, flushed skin. He led her into the sitting room, motioning for her to sit while he made for the drinks cart. 

Sarah started to regain some clarity and the first thing she noticed was the fact that the king was shirtless, wearing only a pair of silk pants. She felt herself blush as she took stock of his lithe body, recalling the way that very body had felt beneath her fingers. 

She quickly lowered her gaze, choosing to stare at her lap instead. She became increasingly aware of her own state of undress —the silk nightdress she wore left little to the imagination.

"Try some Elven wine starlight," Jareth held out the drink in offering.

"Thank you," Sarah smiled, accepting the crystal tumbler of cherry liquid. 

Jareth perched beside her on the couch with a glass of the rich, amber liquid she'd noticed earlier. She could feel his eyes on her as she took a tentative sip of her drink. The wine was undeniably sweet with notes of cherry, almond and vanilla and a subtle floral undertone. 

"If the colour pink had a flavour, it would be this wine," she mused, swirling the liquid around her glass.

Jareth chuckled and took a sip of his drink. "Hmmm… perhaps but it is rather delicious, is it not?"

"I guess —it's a little sweet," she swallowed another sip. "Then again the fae are known for their sweet-tooth."

"Yes," Jareth quirked a brow. "I have a very sweet tooth," he grinned, flashing his teeth. His eyes hungrily roaming her body.

---

Jareth observed the flush of heat blooming on Sarah's cheek. It was the same rosy-pink that blossomed on her skin in the throws of passion. He took another sip of mead, pushing back his desire —now wasn't the time to pounce on the poor woman. They needed to talk before all else. 

Before he could say anything further, a delicate knock sounded on the chamber doors. "Enter," the king called and Kaylin entered carrying a tray of chamomile tea and a selection of scones. 

"Dammit," Jareth muttered to himself, realising he'd forgotten to include a coffee table in his queen's sitting room. 

He clicked his fingers to conjure a crystal, tossing it to the ground where a small coffee table appeared in its wake. "Most gracious of you Kaylin, you're dismissed," Jareth gave the fae a grateful assent, taking the tray to set it on the table.

Jareth swapped Sarah's wine for a cup of chamomile tea. "The tea should help calm your nerves and the scones should help stave off the upcoming headache."

"Thank you." Sarah curled into the cushions. "I'm sorry if Kaylin disturbed you, you don't have to stay if you don't want to… I think I'm going to be OK."

"You have nothing to apologise for, precious. I was actually on my way to see you anyway. I decided I no longer wanted to play king and I'm currently shirking my duties," he assured her, plucking a cherry scone from the plate. He hoped it would give him something to focus on rather than his desire to tangle his fingers in her chocolate locks and taste the unparalleled sweetness of her inexperienced kiss. 

Even in the throws of hysteria, she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever set eyes on and he craved her like nothing else.

While Sarah was preoccupied inspecting a chocolate chip scone, Jareth greedily devoured her body with his eyes. He observed the soft definition of her collarbone and the sumptuous curves of her breasts. She was simply a divine specimen of womanhood. She'd matured most deliciously, like a fine wine. 

When the Goblin King could no longer bear the silence nor the salacious whispers, he decided that he needed to know the cause of such a vicious mental break. "Sarah, what happened just now to cause you such distress?"

Sarah placed her now empty cup and half-eaten scone on the table, switching to the glass of wine which she drained in one breath. "I'm going to need another drink."

Jareth re-filled her glass with mead. "I suggest you drink this one a little slower, precious," he advised, handing her the glass before taking his seat, retrieving his own drink.

"What is it?"

"Mead. It's basically a mixture of alcohol, honey and water. However, this particular brand is infused with green apple."

Sarah took a sip of the amber liquid and her brow arched, impressed. She sighed and sagged back against the arm rest, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I found the balcony, and I guess seeing the kingdom and Labyrinth in its entirety was more than a little overwhelming and I just freaked out…"

"Why starlight?" Jareth frowned, ghosting a finger down her bare forearm.

Sarah swallowed and averted her eyes. "The memories," she murmured, lifting her gaze to meet him. 

"Memories of the first time we met, of my time running the Labyrinth, of the time I walked away from you, of the time you walked away from me and everything after that…."

Jareth placed his hand on her thigh and his thumb stroked her knee. "I just started thinking that you'd realise you made a mistake and that you'd realise you should have just stayed away. I figured you'll realise I'm not queen material and you'll send me back."

Her bottom lip trembled and Jareth's heart ached. "That couldn't be further from the truth Sarah," he shook his head. 

"I'm under no illusions that everything will be sunshine and roses so soon. I know you need to work through the past three years and I'm prepared to be your confidant throughout the process. I want to help you Sarah, you're not alone in this."

"But how do you know I'm the one for you? How do you know that you just want me because you couldn't have me the first time? What if you get tired of me? I'm sure there are woman much more beautiful than me in the Underground, I'm sure they could please you more than I could too."

"Sarah you don't understand do you?" Jareth exhaled, setting his drink on the table in favour of closing the space between him and his queen. 

"The first time I laid eyes on you, the whole world stopped turning. Looking into your innocent eyes was like looking into my past, my present, my future. 

I saw vivid premonitions of you by my side, ruling my kingdom. The strength at my back, my front and my side. I was a fool to walk away from you precious, but my pride was wounded. I'd never felt the harsh sting of rejection in my life, especially from one who I revered so dearly," the fae king sighed. 

"I will never tire of you Sarah and no other women can compare to you whether it be in beauty, mind or pleasure. You're the most alluring woman my eyes have ever had the good grace to gaze upon starlight and to me you're the epitome of perfection."

Sarah lowered her gaze shyly, chewing on her bottom lip in the way that drove him to the brink of insanity. Jareth yearned for that luscious lip to be between his own teeth. He'd nip and tease before drawing her into a kiss so hot, it would leave both their mouths aflame. 

Sarah fixed him with fiery emerald eyes, stoking the fire that burned in his core. Her gaze roamed his mouth for all of a second before she feigned interest in her lap, sipping her drink distractedly. 

How his precious loved to play coy and how it drove him to delirium. 

"I kept hearing my dad's voice in my head," Sarah spoke, clearing the sparks of electric that had danced around them seconds ago.

"I'm listening…" he said, setting his empty glass on the table and his hands on his thighs.

"He told me before he dumped me in that place… he told me that no one was going to want me… he said I was a disgrace to the family name," a stray tear rolled down her cheek and Jareth's chest tightened. 

"The night I… I hurt myself—" she frowned, tracing the silvery pink scars on her wrists, "—he refused to take me to the hospital because he was too ashamed. He was embarrassed of me and what I'd done."

Anger burned him from the inside out, leaving his lungs charred and his heart black with soot. He forced himself to temper his rage and be the listening ear that his love needed, not the volatile, whirling tornado of ire he wished to be. 

"Why did you do it, precious? Why did you bring harm to yourself? Why did you sully this beautiful porcelain skin with such hatred?" he asked wearing a frown. He brought her wrists to his mouth, his lips ghosting the thin scars.

Sarah's eyes fluttered closed and her throat working as she swallowed her emotions. "I just wanted to release the pain… Everything inside me hurt so much and I thought that it would release the pressure crushing my chest. 

I didn't know what to do Jareth, no one was listening to me, I needed you so badly but I couldn't have you. Everything just got too much and I just… I took a razor and I slashed my wrist, not deep enough to really hurt me but enough to feel something. Each trickle of blood was like an exhale. Everything hurt a little less but it didn't last very long…"

Jareth stroked her forearms, feeling guilt eat away at him. "I'm sorry Sarah…"

"It's not your fault Jareth, I did it to myself because I'm weak and I couldn't handle the consequences of my own actions. That's another reason why I started freaking out about being here —about being queen. A queen isn't weak, she doesn't scar herself in a fit of hysteria. You need someone who's your equal Jareth, I'm not even worthy of your time, never mind your kingdom," she murmured, drawing her arms back into her lap.

"You're not weak Sarah, you're one of the strongest people that I know. After everything that you've been through, you're still sitting here with the ability to smile and the ability to share your affections. One who is weak would have shut themselves off years ago Sarah but you never did. 

You might have had a slight lapse in judgement when you were most vulnerable but that doesn't make you weak, it makes you human and if your family hadn't been so cruel and cold with you, you never would have ended up in that state to begin with," he argued gently.. 

"I will make it my mission for you to see your worth Sarah, you'll see that you're worthy of the title of queen —I have no doubt in my mind about it. The kingdom will adore you, though not as much as I," he said with a smile. 

"There is plenty of time for you to build up your confidence, starlight. Plenty of time to learn how to be the queen that you were destined to be."

"I have to learn to be a queen? Like, royal etiquette lessons?" Sarah frowned, confused.

"Really Sarah, that's all you took from me bearing my heart?" Jareth rolled his eyes. "But yes, I had to endure such lessons, why shouldn't you?"

"Oh, so it's going to be an endurance, huh? Good thing I have you by my side then, isn't it?"

Jareth grinned. "I'll do anything for you precious, I'll always be by your side to set you back on your feet when you fall. Just fear me, love me and do as I say, and I, I will be your slave," he whispered the same words he'd used the night she'd beat his Labyrinth.

Sarah's breath hitched and her invitingly parted. Like a magnet drawn into an impenetrable force-field, he found himself leaning towards her, his arm reaching to rest on the arm of the couch, blocking her with his body. He was so close that he could feel her warm, breath caress his face and he could hear the rhythmic thump of her heart. 

"Are you going to kiss me?" Sarah whispered, her eyes trained on his mouth.

"Well I was thinking about it, in fact, I've been thinking about all the other wicked things I want to do to you, my queen," Jareth said with a smirk. "Would her majesty object if I were to put these salacious thoughts into action?"

"No," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. 

Jareth curled over and gently nudged her mouth eliciting small sigh of satisfaction as her lips pressed back, urging him to deepen the kiss. He combed his fingers through lush chocolate locks to cradle her head. His fingertips gently massaged her scalp, kissing her in hot, wet burts, groaning as he explored her mouth, drinking her in. 

Sarah's hands timidly grazed his hips, gliding up over his abdomen, continuing their path to curve around his shoulders. He drew her closer, keeping one hand cradled against the back of her head while the other slid beneath her body to caress the alluring swell of her rear and a hitch of breath further stiffened his cock. 

Sarah's fingers tangled in his hair as she plucked at his bottom lip with her teeth. "How I want you Sarah," Jareth murmured, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down the curve of her neck and lightly nipped at the junction of her shoulder.

Sarah pulled back, panting, eyes dark and cheeks flushed. "It's this dress isn't it?" she said with a smirk and the king barked a laugh.

"I won't lie, the dress certainly had the desired effect," he chuckled, drawing her into a succession of soft, lingering kisses. 

"Shall we retire to bed precious? I promise you'll find it much more pleasurable than this couch."

Sarah nodded, gingerly accepting his hand and he gently pulled her to her feet, escorting her into the bedroom. Jareth pulled back the sheets. "After you," he grinned, motioning to the bed. 

Sarah hesitated, clearly suspecting that his chivalry was some kind of trick.

"Come now Sarah, I'm not going to pounce on you the moment your backs turned —as tempting as the thought may be." He winked. 

"I'm genuinely concerned about your health, you need to rest starlight, it's been an emotionally draining day. I simply wish to hold you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear until slumber renders you deaf," the Goblin King assured, stroking her cheek and dropping a kiss to her forehead.

Sarah smiled and shuffled onto the bed with Jareth sliding in behind her. The king drew his love into his arms, her rear pressing against his throbbing erection, 

"Jareth, your erection is prodding me in the ass," Sarah laughed.

"Oh he's harmless precious, he's just excited to see you," he said, ghosting kisses across her bare shoulder. 

Sarah wriggled in his lap, getting herself comfortable and Jareth groaned —the soft flesh of her backside felt magnificent grinding against his cock. "Please refrain from teasing me my little temptress, I'm on my best behaviour right now but if you continue to fan the flames of my desire, the hold on my control will snap."

"I wasn't teasing you, I was getting comfortable —having your erection digging into my bum isn't exactly ideal," Sarah countered light-heartedly.

"It's not exactly ideal for me either, I'd much rather my erection be buried in your—" 

"Jareth."

"Yes, sweet one?"

"Go to sleep," she giggled and the king chuckled, his laughter muffled by her shoulder.

"As you wish —sweet dreams starlight." He pressed a, soft kiss to her cheek and wrapped her in his arms, his face buried in her hair. He breathed her in, flooding his senses with the scent that had haunted him for the past three years.

Chapter 10: Good Morning, Precious

"Good morning precious," Jareth drawled, smoothing his hand across Sarah's stomach and toward her ribs, pressing a soft kiss the underside of her jaw.

"Morning," Sarah hummed and lazily rolled onto her back.

"You look simply mouth-watering." Jareth teased a finger between her breasts. "Thus far I've been on my very best behaviour but right now, the lure of your heavenly body is proving too much and I wish to ravish it," he said with a roguish grin. 

"Do you have any objections, sweet one?" he dropped another soft kiss to the underside of her jaw.

"No." She chewed her lip coyly. 

Jareth groaned. "How you bring me to my knees when that heavenly lip of yours finds its way between your teeth." 

He slowly worked the silk camisole that had ridden up over her thighs as she'd slept, over her hips, leisurely guiding it the rest of the way up body to gently pull ut over her head. 

Hungry eyes drank in her naked flesh and he eagerly lowered his head to ghost kisses across her chest, gliding his hands up her waist to cup her breasts. He grazed his thumbs over peaked buds and Sarah hummed with pleasure. Her head dropped back against her shoulders as he fondled her breasts, nipping and sucking the sensitive skin of her throat.

Jareth captured Sarah between his thighs, urging her to wrap her slender legs around his waist. He guided her back against the pillows and slid his hand up the length of her thigh, coaxing her into a hot wet kiss, his stiff cock nudging her warm, soft mound. 

Sarah's fingers became enmeshed in the king's sleep tousled hair, exploring his mouth between lusty breaths. Her hands grazed his back to round his hips, her emerald eyes darkening with desire. 

"This needs to go…" he said, plucking at her damp knickers. 

Taking him by surprise with unexpected boldness, Sarah never broke eye contact as she seductively slid her knickers down her thighs, casting aside with dainty kick of her foot. 

The king arched a brow, his lips curved in a mischievous smirk. His eyes ravenously roamed the soft contours and tantalising curves of his queens naked body. "I wish to wake to this sight every morning for the rest of my life," he exhaled, his voice deliciously husky.

Jareth shifted over her, kissing her hard on the mouth and knelt between her legs, nudging her thighs wider. He rocked against her and she gasped, arching for him as the knot within her pulled taut. He nuzzled down her stomach and peppered soft kisses over the bone of her hip, the sensation akin to the flutter of butterfly wings. 

He continued those delicate kisses and slowly tugged down her knickers, sitting back on his heels to guide them down the length of her legs. Deep ocean blue met dazed emerald and the king winked, sliding his palms up her inner thigh in a way that made the muscles beneath her skin tremble. 

A strangled moan caught in her throat when Jareth covered her apex with wet, open-mouthed kisses. His tongue stroked her throbbing bud in a way that made her back arch and she gripped the pillow beneath her head, bucking her hips to meet the hot, wet heat of his mouth.

Jareth hummed in satisfaction and she swore she felt the vibration in her soul. His mouth covered her bundle of nerves to suck and tongue. "Oh God…" She panted, the knot within her pulling tighter. 

Two fingers edged between her slick slit and she almost came undone. His touch was exquisite, almost painful in its relentless pleasure. He tongued her clit, pumping his fingers in time with her heaving chest. 

His fingers were replaced with his tongue, his nose nudging her throbbing bud. She was close. So close she could feel the knot start to fray. Everything was becoming too sensitive and her nerves were on fire. Her hands pushed at his crown, uncertain and somewhat nervous. 

It was verging on too much —yet nowhere near enough. 

"Don't run from it Sarah —surrender to it. Let me worship you," the king hummed between her thighs, alternating long, slow strokes with his tongue with teasing sucks.

Nails dug into the mattress as she panted and her hips bucked until her body started to quake. That taut little knot inside her finally gave out under the strain and Sarah moaned. Jareth continued to cover her with lazy, sloppy kisses, drawing out her climax until her back curved to echo the whimpers of ecstacy tumbling from between her lips. 

The king released her from the hold of his mouth and pulled himself onto his knees, gazing down upon his love with adoration as she lay with her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed pink and glowing and her chocolate locks splayed haphazardly over the pillows.

He watched completely enthralled by the rise and fall of her chest, unable to take his eyes off her. As he knelt, watching his queen come down from the highs of passion he couldn't help but feel the all consuming warmth of love flood his heart.

---

Court had been an absolute bloody nightmare, if he never saw another bloody goblin in the next millennia it would be too soon. He'd spent the majority of the morning trying to stop one of the goblins from lodging a battering ram up his adversary's arse. 

Suffice to say, the Goblin King had a throbbing ache building behind his eyes and he was no longer in the mood to play king. He was taking the rest of the day off, he had better things to do with his time —much better things.

Jareth glanced down at the dark haired beauty walking companionably beside him and felt a wave of calm wash over him. He reached out and took Sarah's hand, the feeling of calmness transcending to serenity the moment their fingers laced.

They reached the door leading out to the castle gardens and Jareth reluctantly released his hold on Sarah's hand in favour of holding open the door as he ushered Sarah outside. He led his queen down a narrow slate stone pathway lined with a grassy bank and blooming wildflowers, guiding her through the brick archway that opened into the castle garden. 

It was his late mother's hard work that made the gardens what they were now, it was her favourite place in the whole castle and Jareth made a conscientious effort to keep them in pristine condition in her memory.

On one side of the gardens was a vast, sprawling orchard dotted with various trees bearing fruit —apples, peaches, plums, pears, lemons and oranges all bordered by a babbling brook. 

On the opposite side was a sizable meadow filled to the brim with various flowers —jasmine, violets, poppies, daisies and lilacs, a plethora of rose bushes in all variants along with a few quaint decorative rockeries.

Beyond a slightly grassy hillock a little further down the garden, sat an ornate water fountain which on an evening was lit-up with enchanted fairy lights and surrounded by sturdy stone benches.

"Wow, I think this just might be my favourite place in the whole castle," Sarah gushed, looking around her with awe.

"It was my mother's pride and joy," Jareth's face illuminated with a nostalgic smile as they veered towards the meadow.

"You look tired," Sarah broke the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two of them as he motioned for her to sit in the middle of the meadow.

"The perils of ruling over a court of grog drunk goblins," he grimaced, dragging his hands down his jaw.

"Oh, that sucks," Sarah commiserated and Jareth huffed a laugh.

"Such a way with words."

"We can't all be wordsmith's."

"For a self-professed bookworm, always with her head in the clouds and her nose in a book, you offer a very limited vocabulary."

"I haven't exactly been able to keep up with my hobby these past few years, have I?" Sarah countered. "Besides, is it not a treasonous offence to insult the queen?"

"I wasn't aware I was insulting you precious, I assumed I was just stating a fact," Jareth said with a cheeky smirk, bringing her hand to his lips to press a lingering kiss to her knuckles. 

Sensing an approaching presence, Jareth lowered her hand from his lips but refused to release her, her warm delicate fingers felt heavenly entwined with his own. The king glanced over his shoulder to find Kendrick strolling towards them holding a picnic basket. Kendrick came to a stop in front of the duo, bowing courteously, his eyes drifting to Sarah's hand that was firmly in the king's grip and a knowing smile crept onto his face.

"The lunch you requested your majesty," he smiled, setting the basket in front of them in the grass before retreating back up the path.

"Is it improper for the queen to remove her shoes? My feet are killing me," Sarah said with a grimace.

Jareth shook his head in amusement. "It would only be improper if we were in the company of other royals, as we're alone, feel free to do anything to make yourself comfortable."

"If you had prohibited me from doing so, I'd have done it anyway and advised you to stop being so uptight," Sarah grinned, tucking her legs up beneath her.

Jareth barked a laugh, drawing the picnic basket closer. "Why do I get the impression you're going to be a rather rebellious queen."

"I wouldn't say rebellious, perhaps a pain in your arse is more appropriate."

"Most gracious of you to give me prior warning," he quirked a brow. "However, to me you're perfect." He kissed the back of her hand.

"How're you feeling today precious, mentally I mean…" Jareth inquired, taking a bite from a cracker laden with a thick slice of cheese and chilli jam.

"I think I'm OK… but while you were in court, I was thinking about something that I think I need to do to be able to give myself closure and help me move on from the past…" Sarah stated, dipping a chunk of olive bread into a pot of eggplant dip.

"What is it you need to do?"

"I think I need to see my family," Sarah sighed, wiping her hands on her napkin. "I need them to see they were wrong. I want them to understand how much they hurt me and I want to be able to walk away knowing that I wasn't the one who turned my back on them. 

Plus, I really do miss Toby. I never really got to say goodbye to him —he was too young. I don't even know if he'll remember me after all this time. I doubt my dad speaks about me," she looked up at Jareth with desolate eyes and his chest tightened.

"If it's what you really want to do, I can take you to them Sarah," Jareth nodded. "Admittedly I'm not very fond of the idea but I will do anything to ease your burdens, precious. If you truly think it will help, then I'll take you."

"I just need closure Jareth, I want them to see they were wrong. I don't care about an apology, it wouldn't make a difference now anyway, not after everything I've been through because of them. I just want it all to be over and it never will be unless I put an end to it myself."

"When would you like to make the trip?" Jareth asked, popping a dried apricot into his mouth.

"You have the rest of the day off right? Can we not go now?"

"Right at this very minute? Or may I perhaps finish my lunch?" Jareth teased.

"I suppose I could let you finish your majesty," she smiled, biting into a strawberry in a way that made Jareth's cock twitch —temptress.

Chapter 11: Closure

Sarah's stomach twisted as she stood staring at the house she'd spent her childhood —it wasn't home anymore. Her shoulders sagged beneath the weight of past memories that shrouded her like a weighted blanket. 

"Are you sure you're ready for this Sarah? We can always come back at a later date, when you're more emotionally stable." Jareth winced and rubbed his jaw.

Sarah tore her eyes away from the front porch and craned her neck slightly to meet the Goblin King's worried gaze. "The sooner I do it, the better. I understand that you're worried about me but no matter when I do it, it's always going to be hard. Once it's done, it's done and I can move on." She gave him a small smile and leant into his touch when his hand reached out to cup her cheek.

"Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?" Jareth looked back at the house and a flash of anger darkened his irises until his sapphire orbs resembled the inky indigo midnight ocean.

"I promise I'll call for you when I need you." She squeezed his wrist in a gesture of reassurance but the expression on the fae king's face told her that he wasn't entirely convinced by her show of confidence. In all honesty she wasn't so sure she was convincing herself.

Sarah tugged at the skirt of her dress with a frown. She couldn't go in there looking like she'd just walked out of a casting for Othello. "Jareth?" 

"Yes, precious?" He arched a brow in question.

"Could you maybe do something about this dress? I don't think it's the right attire for a family feud —perhaps something a little less Shakespearean?" She murmured, casting her gaze to the street —they'd been standing outside too long, any longer and curtains would start twitching.

"Shakespeare and family feuds? Why it's the perfect combination," Jareth teased, conjuring a crystal with the snap of his fingers. 

The fae king's eyes glittered with affection, his features softening as he flicked his wrist to send the crystal in Sarah's direction where it noiselessly popped against her stomach. 

Sarah glanced down at herself to find the dress had been replaced by a pair of blue denim jeans, a cream peasant blouse and a cream silk waistcoat, adorned with paisley print woven in golden thread. 

It was the exact replica of the outfit she'd worn three years ago when she'd first met the Goblin King and gained victory over his Labyrinth.

"You remembered?" Sarah stared up at the striking immortal, her chest flooding with affection.

"I remember every single detail Sarah." Jareth drew her into his arms. "Must I really let you walk into the lion's den alone?" He whispered into her hair, his lips grazing her crown.

"It's something I have to do Jareth," Sarah murmured against his chest.

"Promise you'll call for me if it all becomes too much, or even if you just need a silent companion?" He urged, softly nudging her lips.

"I promise," Sarah whispered into his mouth, her words countered by a fierce kiss that she felt resonate in her soul.

"Go, before I change my mind." Jareth reluctantly stepped back and Sarah nervously made her way up the garden path. Her legs felt like lead weights as she clambered up the porch steps, the sound of the wood creaking beneath her feet making her heart race. 

She looked back over her shoulder to find the street behind her empty and willed herself not to panic. He wouldn't leave you here Sarah, her inner voice assured, giving her the confidence to proceed rather than run screaming back down the garden path pleading for him to come back.

Sarah hesitated before raising her hand, her fingers curling into a loose fist to knock on the door. The muffled sounds echoing from the otherside of the door were drowned out by the erratic hammering of her heart in her ears. Each heavy thud felt close to breaking her ribs. 

The door swung open and Sarah's stomach clawed its way up her throat when greeted by the sour face of her step mother. The woman's eyes widened to the size of saucers upon seeing the face of the girl she'd so heartlessly discarded almost three years ago. 

"Sarah…" Irene croaked, her eyes darting up and down the street as if she was worried someone would catch sight of her mentally disturbed step-daughter —the one who was supposedly shut away in a psychiatric facility miles away from home. 

"W-what are you doing here?" She stammered, fussing with the hem of her blouse.

"Irene, who is it?" She heard her father call from down the hall as muffled footsteps followed. 

Sarah's stomach lurched with such force that she was seriously concerned she might vomit when she locked eyes with the man who was supposed to love her without conditions. Yet, instead, he'd tossed her out like yesterday's newspaper. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Her father angrily hissed.

Taken aback by the venom in hjs voice, Sarah could only stand frozen and mute on the front porch, her mouth opening and closing like an oxygen-deprived fish. 

The hateful glare of her father made her skin itch to peel from.her bones while the confidence she'd harboured only moments ago scattered like shedding leaves in the biting autumn wind. 

"I do believe she's here to speak to you Robert and I suggest you give her the respect she deserves." The voice came from inside the house and Sarah peeked over her parent's shoulders to find the Goblin King stood on the stairs with her little brother Toby balanced in his arms.

"Toby!" Irene wailed, clamping her hand over her mouth

"Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing in my house?!" Robert demanded.

"Are you not going to invite your guest in Irene, where are your manners? What would the neighbours say if they witnessed little miss prim and proper quarrelling on the front porch like some hedge-born commoner," Jareth drawled, tickling Toby's ribs, eliciting a childish giggle.

Sarah took that as her que to step inside, shutting the door behind her. "Thank you," she mouthed at Jareth.

Empathy glittered in his eyes as he gave her an almost imperceptible nod in reply.

"Sarah!" Toby grinned, wriggling excitedly in Jareth's arms.

"Hey Tobes," Sarah smiled and the Goblin King released her baby brother from his arms, leaving him to crash into her own. "You've sure grown kid," she sighed, breathing in the scent of innocence and candy apple shampoo as she enveloped him in a desperate hug.

"I missed you Sarah." Toby peered up at her, his brows furrowed. "Did you go stay with the king?" The question was innocent as his eyes drifted to Jareth.

"What king, what are you talking about, child?" Robert snapped, sorely irritated by the unanticipated and very unwanted disruption to his routine.

"The Goblin King," Toby pointed at Jareth who was standing with his arms folded across his chest, leaning against the bannister with a look of complete disdain on his face.

"Don't you start with that nonsense Toby Williams!" Irene scolded, yanking him out of Sarah's arms.

"Take him to his room," Robert ordered his wife.

"No, I wanna stay with Sarah," Toby's bottom lip trembled and Sarah's heart ached —why must they be so cruel? 

Did they truly hate her that much?

"Sarah's not staying," Irene stated simply, carting Toby off up the stairs, the sound of his confused sobs breaking her heart.

"Even when faced with the truth you still remain indignant with self-righteous loathing," Jareth scoffed. 

"You pitiful man, you don't deserve children if all you're going to do is toss them out like yesterday's newspaper when they don't view the world like you do or when they speak their own truth."

"Yesterday's newspaper would have at least brought with it some benefit, all she's done is cause me grief and bring me shame," Robert countered acidly, pointing an accusatory finger in Sarah's direction. 

"Just like her mother, living for the drama, always craving the spotlight —not satisfied until she's torn this whole family apart!"

"You fool!" Jareth barked, slamming her father against the wall, his shirt wrapped in his fist. "The only one responsible for tearing your family apart as you so state is yourself you insufferable man!

You turn your back on your own daughter for the sake of pride and concern for what your colleagues or neighbours might think about you bearing a child who was battling with her own grief. 

Instead of offering that child patience, understanding and comfort, you disowned her and threw her in some facility for the mentally disturbed, washing your hands of the problem rather than attempting to fix it."

"I don't know who the hell you are but my daughter is a pathological liar —not a word of truth comes out of her mouth!" Robert shoved at Jareth's chest.

Sarah flinched when Jareth's fist reeled back to slam into her father's jaw. The subsequent sound of bone crunching against bone was thunderous in the stifling silence of the house. "How dare you speak of her so vilely you despicable sewer rat," he spat.

"You wish to know who I am? I'm the one who broke your daughter's heart, I'm the one who stole away your son when he was just a babe. I'm the one who your daughter defeated to bring him back. I'm the one who she tried to tell you existed only for you to label her a delusional headcase. I'm proof that Sarah was telling the truth all along and you destroyed her innocent, naïve heart for nothing!" 

Jareth exhaled a ragged breath.

"Because of you and that viper you call a wife, Sarah was left at the mercy of strangers who didn't care. Whose only goal was to earn their pay cheque at the end of the month —tossing labels at her like she was nothing more than a tin can in a pantry. 

Who force-fed her drugs that she didn't need, nor did she want and when she tried to speak out against it, she was sedated, rendered comatose and hopeless and left to fester in her own pit of misery. 

You broke her spirit, you broke her soul, you isolated her from the world and reduced her to nothing more than a statistic and for what? To save your reputation?!"

Jareth stepped over her father who was slumped on the hall floor, a trickle of blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. 

"Robert!" Irene cried, hurrying down the stairs to her husband's aid. 

"Look what you did, you evil child!" She yelled in Sarah's face. 

Sarah felt the anger that had been simmering deep within her soul for years slowly start to bubble to the surface. Her skin prickled with heat and her eyes misted with tears. 

"Your father was a saint for keeping you around as long as he did —no wonder your mother didn't want you," Irene said coldly.

The sound of the palm of Sarah's hand striking her step-mother rang loud and shrill in the silence. The sting of skin striking skin, left her palm unpleasantly tingling. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Sarah yelled as tears streamed down her face.

"Calm down precious," Jareth soothed, drawing her into his arms. Her body vibrated with rage and both her father and Irene stared at her in wide-eyed shock.

"This just proves it, you're practically feral!" Irene stuttered, cowering by Robert's side.

"And you're an arrogant, cruel bitch!" Sarah snarled, choking on her own tears. 

"I wanted to come here today to talk to you and prove to you that what you thought about me was wrong. I wanted you to see how much you hurt me. I wanted you to feel the guilt and the shame that you made me feel but now I see that there was really no point. You'll never feel sorry for what you did, will you? Even with the proof staring you in the face you'll still call me a liar!"

She sniffled.

"Toby's three and even he can differentiate the truth from the lies. Have you ever asked him what happened that night? Or did you just put him on mute whenever he tried to talk about it like you did with me? Are you planning to abandon him in the future too? Or was it just me that you wanted rid of?"

"Sarah," Toby's small voice snapped her out of her rage and she turned to find the blonde haired, blue eyed boy stood at the bottom of the stairs, his watery eyes full of confusion. "Are you leaving again?"

"I have to Tobes," Sarah swallowed her tears and lifted him into her arms. "This isn't home for me anymore, my homes with the king."

"Do you have to share a room with the goblins?" Toby grimaced.

"No." Sarah laughed and shook her head. "I have my own room."

"I miss you," Toby pouted.

"I miss you too, Tobes," Sarah sighed, hugging him tight. "I have to go now, OK?"

"I don't want you to go."

"I know but I have to," Sarah's voice wavered. "I love you kid, I really didn't mean it that night when I wished for the Goblin King to take you away…" she whispered, kissing his cheek and set him back onto his feet. 

Sarah turned to face Irene and her father, feeling nothing but emptiness —just like their eyes. "I'll never forgive you for what you did." 

She felt Jareth's arm snake around her shoulder.

"Enjoy what's left of your pitiful existence," Jareth snarled before the ground was ripped from beneath her feet.

---

Sarah sank into the feathersoft pillows propping up her back, her fingers skimming the words lining the lage of the book she knew by heart. Each word was stored in the box of treasured memories in her mind. 

Sarah gently closed the book and stroked the red leather cover, tracing the golden calligraphic title with the tips of her fingers. In her hands she held the book where her own story began. Personal memories interlaced with memories of the characters who lived within its dog-eared pages. 

Sarah smiled. It was time for her to write the sequel, time tweave her own dreams —dreams of her and her king.

"May I ask why you're still wearing that dreadful outfit," Jareth said, sauntering into the room, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

A flood of warmth blossomed in Sarah's chest and that ever-present tug in her core throbbed in the presence of the one who ruled her heart and soul. 

What had supposed to have been a difficult yet calm conversation with her parents had gone awry. However, Sarah felt that despite the initial jagged jolt of pain in reaction to their blatant disregard of her and what she had to say, she came out of the experience with a clear head and a sense of closure. 

She'd also experienced an overwhelming rush of love for the Goblin King. She appreciated him stepping in when he did. It would seem the immortal king knew her more than she knew herself and instead of the fact scaring her, it filled her with an all-consuming reverence. 

She hadn't gone into her childhood home with aspirations of apologies and heartfelt words —which was lucky considering what she left with— but she'd spoken her truth. She'd said what she'd had to say and it was over. 

The past was to be left in the past and she had every intention of enjoying her present and looking to the future —starting by getting rid of this horrid outfit. Just what had she been thinking?— and showing his majesty how far her love ran deep. 

Sarah felt her cheeks heat as she toyed with the buttons on her shirt. Slinking off the bed, she padded to where he stood, all regality and mirth. "If you don't like it, you can always take it off…." She murmured, peering up at him from beneath her lashes. 

She had no idea how seduction worked, nor was she under any illusion that she could mirror the effortless sex-appeal of a femme-fatal. She hoped awkward flirting might suffice and judging by the subtle darkening of his eyes, it was working. 

"Excuse me?" 

"Now don't play coy, I know you heard me, your majesty." A ripple of nervous excitement ran full circuit throughout her body and leaned in, sliding her hands up over his chest toward his shoulders with a soft sigh. "I want you Jareth —I want all of you."

She paused.  

"And I want you to have all of me too."  

She swallowed. 

"I want you to know that it is, was and will always be you, my king." She echoed the sentiments spoken by the king himself, knowing it was a perfect expression of everything she'd ever felt.

Jareth's eyes softened while at the same time, the tell-tale inky darkness of desire pooled deeper. "Are you sure, Sarah?" He murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing her cheek. "It has been a rather emotionally charged few hours…" 

She shook her head, appreciating his concern but at the same time, wishing he wasn't being so cautious. She wanted to throw caution to the wind. She didn't want to live her life constrained by rules or the perils of over-thinking. She was free and she wanted to taste it. She was home and she wanted to feel it. 

"I've never been so sure of anything," she whispered and her heart raced when Jareth's hands moved to rest on the dip of her back. 

"Sarah, I want you more than I've ever wanted anything in my life," he breathed against the outer shell of her ear, his breath hot against her skin. 

She shuddered.  

He gently took her hand and led her across the room, the soft glow of the flickering sconces casting his handsome face in shadow. They were half-way across the room when Jareth caught her off guard with a fierce, hungry kiss. 

The way he took control called to the side of her she hadn't known existed before she met him. The side of her that longed to be taken in a strong pair of arms and ravished until she couldn't see, let along think straight.  

His tongue felt so good in her mouth and the feel of his lips smoothing against her mouth in slow, teasing motions turned her legs to jelly. 

The back of her legs hit the bed frame and the gravity of the situation hit her. A nervous flutter bloomed beneath her sternum. "I need to pee…" she murmured in a bid to take a second to calm the nerves that made her stomach waver.  

Jareth chuckled and released her without question. She felt his eyes trail her as she skittered into the bathroom and sagged against the closed door. Her eyes fluttered closed as she willed the nerves to pass. 

Composed, Sarah stepped back out into the bedroom —determined. Jareth was sprawled on the bed in a pair of silk pants, his hair mussed.  

The desire he'd stoked within her since that morning still burned bright her belly, a fiery inferno kindled by the affectionate glint in his eyes. Jareth rolled onto his side and they locked eyes. Hungry ocean blue meeting glittering emerald. He slid off the bed, his head tilted as they found themselves at a sexually charged impasse. 

"Come here," he instructed. His voice was thick —husky. The deep masculine tone calling to the woman within her, the woman that no longer wanted to hide behind the girl. 

She swallowed and crossed the room to where he now stood by the bed. When she was close enough, he drew her flush against him, his hands gliding down the curve of her back. 

Her breath caught in her throat when his hands slid into the back pockets of her jeans. Bunching the rough denim in his fists to palm at her ass. A crackle of electric fizzed around them and Sarah frowned on feeling cool air against her skin. 

She peered between their crushed bodies to find herself standing in nothing but her bra and knickers and a sly smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. A smirk that the king echoed, his eyes dancing with mirth. 

"That's cheating Jareth." 

"Rules don't exist in the privacy of our chambers Sarah —allow me to show you what I mean," he drawled and stepped back toward the bed as Sarah stretched onto her toes and drew him down for more luscious wet kisses. 

If the rules didn't exist then she decided she was going to take advantage of the fact —she was going to take charge.   

Sarah pushed him down onto the ruffled silken sheets and climbed into his lap. Her hands moved to comb through his hair as she pressed her open mouth against his to share hot, heavy breaths. Jareth hooked her bottom lip between his teeth and sucked her into a kiss so obscene she felt herself grow wet just from the thought of what it implied.  

Deft fingers slipped beneath the think lace of her bra and cupped her breasts. A gentle pinch of her peaked bud was followed by a teasing roll and Sarah moaned, her head falling back against her shoulders. She ground into him —he was ruining her with only the most simple touch. 

He skillfully whipped off her bra, flicking it over her shoulder with a playful wink. Sarah giggled, her laughter hitching in a gasp when Jareth's mouth covered her breast. His free hand trailed the curve of her waist and slid into her knickers and her jaw dropped in a silent 'oh' when two deft fingers slid between her throbbing folds.  

So much for being in control…

Sarah moaned and kissed his neck, her tongue drawing patterns on his hot skin. She relished in the groan that she felt vibrate in his chest, knowing it was just for her.

The king brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting her. The act was obscene —filthy— but it kindled the fire burning in her core.  

Two strong hands gripped her hips and turned to throw her into the mattress as if she was weightless.  

God, that strength.  

He crawled up her body, poised above her, staring down at her with affection flickering in his eyes. His face was framed by the soft shadows cast by the warm glow of candlelight.   

His fingers inched down her stomach, pausing to worship flesh, moaning and humming with satisfaction as he fondled and squeezed. He tugged off her knickers and tossed them aside with a flick of his wrist and his eyes hungrily drank her in.  

She was completely exposed and as they had on previous occasions, her insecurities melted like ice on a summer's day. She surrendered to him completely, she wanted him to see her. 

She wanted him to see what he did to her.  

Jareth playfully pinned her wrists over her head and snaked wet, open-mouthed kisses down the length of her neck. His tongue trailing the length of her clavicle. 

"You're so beautiful, Sarah." He kissed her full on the mouth. "So perfect." His voice was muffled by the rhythmic crash of their lips.    

Sarah reached between their bodies and shamelessly cupped him. The king bucked into her palm with a throaty groan. "You were made for me, my king." She pushed his pants down and stroked him.  

Jareth stopped her only to rid himself of the final barrier between them, sitting back on his heels to gaze at her with hooded eyes.  

The king reached out to comb his fingers through her tousled locks, tilted her chin to ghost soft kisses to her lips and the underside of her jaw. She explored the strong contours of his body, stroking him until warm liquid trickled from his tip. He moaned, their heads pressed together to breathe each other in.  

He pushed her back to kiss a fiery path down her torso before he buried his face between her thighs, his mouth covering her mound. Sarah cried out and her back arched. He slid strong arms beneath her thighs and held her hips as he spread her with his tongue, devouring her and humming in satisfaction. 

"I could spend the next millennia between your thighs, my queen —your taste is exquisite." He moaned, flicking his tongue over her bundle of nerves before cradling it and sucked it between lush wet lips. 

"You're the one that ignites the fire in my soul, precious," he drawled to her inner thigh, his hot, wet tongue trailing the path of her desire that trickled down the crease. 

"I worship the very ground that you walk on." He tongued her folds. "You have no idea what you do to me Sarah. I'm a man in chains —chained to you and everything that you are."

Her body twisted, grasping for the sheets as sweet agony turned her inside out. The king emerged from between her thighs, crawling over her to come in for a kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue and licked deeper into his mouth, savouring every hitching breath. She drank him in, wanting to keep a part of him inside her and let it mould around her heart. 

Jareth nudged between her legs and Sarah gasped. She wanted to know how he'd feel buried deep inside her. Wanted to know how it would feel for him to impale her, to drive up into that tense little knot low in her stomach. 

She pushed him onto his back and he came up on his elbows, head cocked curiously. She wanted to know how it felt to be in control —to take charge. To take what she wanted without fear of punishment or retribution. 

She wanted to act like the queen she was being groomed to be. She trusted that the tricky fae beneath her would allow her to experiment with her newfound confidence.  

She moved to straddle his hips. Kissed his neck, hot and wet, loving the way that he shuddered. She rested her weight against his frame and Jareth moaned. His hands gripped her hips before sliding up toward her ribs and she pressed into his chest, her curls splayed over his broad shoulders.  

He beckoned her in for a kiss that was slow and tender. Sarah licked her lips, eyes fluttering closed with an experimental roll of her hips that elicited a delicious ache when her bundle of nerves brushed against his stiff cock. 

Sarah raised her hips and Jareth positioned himself at her entrance. She swallowed another bout of nerves. "Take your time, precious —we have all night," he whispered, planting a succession of lush, lingering kisses to her lips.  

Sarah started to sink down onto him and the king cursed aloud while she whimpered. Everything was so tight —throbbing. But the feel of him inching inside her was incomparable. "I want to feel you…" She murmured, her brow pressed against his forehead. "Can you?" 

She swallowed.  

She needed him to force himself past her resistance. She wasn't sure she was brave enough to try handling it by herself. She didn't want to give up the reigns just yet but she was ready to admit she needed him to take that first step. 

The king grasped her hips and met her clouded gaze with lidded eyes. With one hard buck of his hips, he broke through her resistance and muffled her cries of discomfort with a hard kiss. Sarah whimpered as he slowly filled her, her hands braced against his chest as the stinging discomfort faded to a pleasurable throb. 

He massaged her hips in a bid to help her relax. "You don't have to move yet, Sarah," he murmured, kissing her softly. "You're safe with me, precious. Understand?"

She nodded, too blissed out to think clearly let alone speak. She felt him pulse inside her and rocked into him, chasing the feeling and Jareth groaned, his head falling to rest on her shoulder as if he too was buckling under the intensity.  

Sarah rolled her hips. Once. Twice. Three times before she had to stop. The sensation of him buried deep inside her pulsing and throbbing was intense —it felt so good.  

So, so good. 

"Sarah." Her name tumbled from his parted lips, his eyes fluttering closed as he rocked up into her. Each rhythmic thrust of his hips pushed up to nudge that tight little knot. 

Her body flushed with heat and she cried out, giving two quick hard rolls of her hips, her nails digging into the hard muscle of his shoulders. Jareth drew her into a wet kiss, drinking in her moans as he undulated up inside her, sending ripples of pleasure dancing down her spine.  

He gently flipped them over, still buried deliciously deep inside her. His mouth covered her breast, tearing strangled moans from her throat as he rolled his hips. She gripped his shoulders and her legs curled around his hips, clinging to him.  

Jareth moaned into the crook of her neck and drove himself deeper, pulling out before thrusting back in and burying himself right to the hilt. The tight little knot in the pit of her stomach started to fray, overwhelmed with sweet agony. 

Their fingers laced when Jareth increased the pace and the room filled with the sound of their panting breaths, lilting moans and the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Slick and wet. 

"You feel so good, Sarah." He praised her, bolstering her. His thumb pushed against her bundle of nerves, torturing her with lazy circles that elicited keening whines. "You belong to me, Sarah. You see that now, don't you? You fit me so…" He moaned, his breath was hot against her chest. "So perfectly…"

"You ruined me for anyone else, my king," she murmured, bucking her hips to match his thrusts and chase that teasing circular motion of his thumb. She could feel herself teetering on the edge of bliss, knowing it wouldn't take much to tip her over.  

Sarah pulled him flush against her and tucked her arms beneath his to curve around his back. She hadn't known it would feel this good, she expected her first time to be awkward and uncomfortable. Yet she was struggling to keep her composure from the sheer intensity of pleasure running full-circuit throughout her body. 

Maybe it was just because they were meant to fit together —two soul shaped pieces of a puzzle meant to slot into place within one another. 

"I belong to you Jareth. I'm your queen. I surrender to you." Sarah whispered, feeling her heart soar with elation. 

Her thighs quivered as the knot began to unravel, her back arching as her heels dug into the back of his thighs. He stroked harder and the knot snapped with a gush and a euphoric cry, liquid fire swam in her veins.

She squeezed around him, urging him to fall with her. One last hard thrust had him growing rigid above her —shuddering— his moans of bliss muffled by her hair as he nuzzled her neck, burrowing into her.  

Ocean blue came up to meet emerald and something within her broke, shattering like a crystal and bleeding from every pore. She wondered if he felt it too. Wondered if the startled yet adoring expression on the fae king's face was reflected back at him on her own. 

She couldn't look away. She was frozen —ruined. She blinked, her heart pounding so hard in her chest she feared it might just burst free in a shower of crimson.  

"Are you alright, Sarah?" 

"Yeah." She beamed up at him. And she meant it. For the first time in a long time in what felt like a long time, she could honestly say that she was happy.

She felt him pull out of her aching heat and instantly felt empty. Grimaced when the sensation of something warm and wet trickled down her thighs, a trail of damp, sticky skin.

She immediately dismissed the less than pleasurable feelings when Jareth drew her against his chest, cradling her head in the crook of his arm. Sarah pressed a kiss to the warm skin beneath her lips, smiling when his hold on her waist tightened.

Jareth drew the blankets over their naked bodies. Kissed her bare shoulder before she felt him rest his head against the pillow

"Sarah… I love you," he whispered into her hair.

Sarah's heart fluttered as she raised her head, searching his face for any sign of deceit. "Do you mean that?" 

Jareth looked back at her with a vulnerability she'd never seen before. "I mean every word precious," he gave her a soft smile. 

"You were fated for me and I was a fool to try and fight it for so long…" he exhaled a shallow breath, closing his eyes. 

"I love you Sarah Williams and I promise that I'll make up for every day that I left you alone. I cannot begin to describe the happiness I feel to finally have you here where you belong —you're home Sarah." 

He brushed her hair from her face, 

"You're back where you always belonged."

Sarah smiled, feeling tears of happiness pool in her eyes. "I love you Goblin King."

"I love you too, my queen."

Chapter 12: Magical Isn't It?

Three Months Later....

Jareth vowed that he'd never set foot in that wretched place ever again yet here he was, pacing the castle in anticipation of a trip he really did not want to make. 

Alas, he'd do anything to make his Sarah happy and if that required returning to that cesspit then so be it. It would be worth the smile he could invision illuminating her beautiful face. 

"Oh, bloody hell," he rolled his eyes at the ceiling and disappeared with a fizzing crack. 

---

"Are you lost?" 

The question took him by surprise, not only from the trace of hostility but from the calm manner in which it was spoken. He was so used to shock, fear or a gasp of awe on his arrival that he wasn't sure whether he should be offended or impressed by such nonchalance. 

"Pardon?" Jareth arched an angular brow, hands planted on his hips.  

"I don't have a baby brother for you to steal or an innocent mind for you to fuck with. What other reason do you have to visit?" 

Jareth opened his mouth to retort with something scathing before reminding himself that this girl was the only one to believe his Sarah. She'd been the only one to offer her friendship when she was at her loneliest. And, despite his irritation at such a rude introduction, he could also understand that she may not see him in such a polished light. 

And rightfully so…

Still, he was a king dammit —the title alone demanded respect!

He exhaled a heavy sigh and perched on the edge of the desk opposite the bed where she sat, feigning interest in her nails. "I take it, you know who I am?" 

She regarded him intently, her almond eyes silently judging him. "The hair, the glitter, the arrogance… I'd say it's pretty obvious —Goblin King."

"I wouldn't have thought you knew of my title—" 

"Why? Because I didn't prostrate at your feet, your majesty?" She scoffed. 

Gods she reminded him so much of Sarah the night she'd ran the Labyrinth —all attitude and scorn. 

"Perhaps we should start over, does that sound agreeable to you?" Jareth said, giving her a small smile. 

She shrugged. "I guess." 

"I'm Jareth and you are?" 

"Jodie." 

"I've heard much about you, Jodie." 

"Ditto." 

Well, this was going swimmingly… 

Jareth cleared his throat, smoothing his shirt. "Now that the formalities are out of the way I—"

"I feel like I need to say something before this conversation goes any further," Jodie interrupted and Jareth faltered, composed himself and made an open gesture with his hands. 

"I'm listening." 

"I think you're a prancing fairy with a superiority complex—"

"I beg your pa—" 

"I haven't finished," she held up a hand to silence him and he grit his teeth, folding his arms across his chest with a scowl. 

The little heathen had the audacity to smirk! 

"As I was saying, I think you're a prancing fairy with a superiority complex and you're an asshole for what you did to Sarah —you broke her." 

Gnarled fingers of guilt clawed at his insides, contorting his organs to the point of physical pain. The statement was a slap in the face. A much needed slap that Sarah would never dole out or perhaps never truly voice. She'd always been so quick to blame herself when he knew, deep down, that he was at fault. 

"You had no right to say such harsh things to her. She desperately wanted to understand what she was feeling. She wanted you to help her make sense of it but instead of offering her insight into a strange new world, you ripped out her heart and stomped on it." 

Jodie glared at him. "And for what Goblin King? Wounded pride? Dented ego? You're fucking thousands of years old, you've had plenty of time to figure things out. Sarah was fifteen —fifteen! What did you expect from her?!" 

"Too much…" Jareth admitted, shoulders sagging in defeat. "I wanted everything and I wanted it right there and then. I'm not used to being told no nor am I used to being turned down by the opposite sex." 

He plucked at an invisible thread on his britches. "You're right, my pride was wounded and my ego smashed to smithereens. I took out my frustration on Sarah simply because I could." 

Sapphire blue met almond. "I swear I will spend the rest of my life making up for the pain I caused her. I've apologised on many occasion but I know it will never be enough." 

"No it won't, but it's a start," Jodie gave him a small smile. "Now —why are you here and why don't you knock?" 

Jareth huffed a laugh, shaking his head in amusement. "I actually came to invite you to an engagement party…" 

Jodies eyes widened, two bronzed marbles nestled in their socket. "You proposed? She's really going to be Goblin Queen? Do I get a discount as best friend?"

"Not yet but I plan to do so today and I'm hosting a surprise engagement party this evening. Yes she's going to he Goblin Queen as was her destiny from the start and what bloody discount?" 

"I don't know, thought being friends with royalty might come with perks like having a store card," she grinned with a shrug. "Turns out being royal is pretty whack." 

"I take it you don't wish to attend the party then?" Jareth rose with a sly smirk. "Seen as being royal is pretty whack, I suppose our parties will… what's the word —suck?" 

Jodie laughed. "I never said that. Of course I'll be there for my girl. I wouldn't miss it. Only, how the hell are you going to get me out of here?" 

"The same way I came in of course," Jareth gave her a feline grin and held out his hand. 

"I hope you washed it, me and Sarah are close but we're not that close," Jodie said, studying his hand before accepting. 

"What on earth—" 

Jodie arched a brow suggestively and Jareth baulked. 

"I would like to rescind my offer, I don't think my castle can withstand you and the Goblins."

"I'll take that as a compliment, lurch," Jodie quipped and with an exaggerated eye roll, the king teleported back to the Underground. 

---

Sarah grimaced, tossing her pen onto the desk in front of her where it landed with an audible clatter. She rubbed her aching wrist before moving on to massage her aching temples. 

She'd been holed up in the ballroom all morning meticulously making her way through an exam on the Underground's history that Aengus —her tutor— had so kindly sprung on her out of the blue. 

Originally, when Kaylin had led her to the ballroom she'd feared she'd be in for another gruelling dance lesson only to find it was something much worse.

"Please tell me we're done for the day?" Sarah groused with a pout. 

Aengus sifted through the mound of parchment all decorated with Sarah's neat scrawl. "It would seem so, my lady." 

The doors to the ballroom swung open and the king entered. "Your highness." Aengus bowed, greeting Jareth with reverence.

"Good to see you Aengus, how is your wife fairing? Has her health improved?" Jareth inquired, genuinely concerned.

"She's getting stronger with each day that passes, your majesty. Thank you for your understanding and lenience with my absence." Aengus smiled, the creases in the corners of his eyes prominent.

"There's no need to thank me Aengus, take as much time as you need. If need be I can tutor Sarah myself." 

Jareth shot his queen a flirtatious wink.

"Aengus my dear friend, if Sarah has finished her exam, would you mind if we cut today's lesson short? I'd like to take the future queen on an outing."

"Not at all your majesty, I need time to go over her answers and it will give me the opportunity to ensure my wife's comfort," the fae said with an amiable smile.

"Most gracious Aengus."

Sarah waited until her tutor had vacated the room and turned to Jareth with a pout. "You know, you could have come and rescued me sooner, I think I've got carpal-tunnel." She rubbed her aching wrist.

"You do have a penchant for exaggeration, precious." Jareth chuckled, drawing her into his arms.

"Yeah? Well you have an penchant for getting on my nerves." 

"Such harsh words you utter." Jareth grazed his teeth against the crook of her neck, eliciting a sharp exhale. "Perhaps I should call for Aengus to return, I'm sure he could rustle up another examination."

"Noooo," Sarah whined. "I'm sorry my liege." She smiled sweetly, melting his resolve with a rather salacious kiss.

"Hmmm... what's gotten into you today Sarah? You're practically insatiable —not that I'm complaining.." 

"I guess I just find you simply irresistible, your majesty." Sarah beamed, giggling when Jareth nuzzled her nose and pressed an affectionate kiss to her forehead.

"Come precious, we should leave before you weaken my resolve any further." 

---

Sarah pulled the fur-lined collar of her cloak tighter around her shoulders to shield herself from the bitter bite of the winter wind. She blinked and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand when stray snowflakes nestled on her lashes. Quick to melt and bleed icy cold water into her eyes. 

Despite disliking the cold that seemed to seep into the marrow of her bones leaving her stiff and achy, Sarah liked the snow. It made everything prettier —not that her future kingdom could get any more enchanting.

Sarah peered up at the king with a coy smile, his pale complexion and silver hair blended with the glistening white canvas surrounding them. The enchanting backdrop accentuating his handsomeness.

Her smile widened when she saw the king's mouth twitch. She knew that he knew she was looking at him, even more so when he lightly squeezed her hand to draw her attention back to the beautiful winter landscape laid out before her. 

A thick blanket of snow replaced the lush green grass of spring and summer, the steady snowfall preventing the ground from turning to the horrid brown sludge winter back in New England always seemed to leave behind. The bare tree branches were dusted with white powder, the dark rough bark of their trunks a stark contrast to the delicate blanket of snow settling on their spindly appendages.

The duo wandered deeper into the park on the far side of the village, each step leaving behind their own mark on the pristine canvas. They made their way towards the left side of the park where Sarah spotted a crowd of spinning bodies and twirling arms and legs. The sounds of exhilarated squeals and giddy laughter filled the powder pink and lilac sky. 

Sarah approached the edge of the frozen lake more than content to observe both skilled and amateur skaters alike, gliding and stumbling their way around the large patch of frozen ice. 

Jareth momentarily wandered off and Sarah's cast her back to the ice where couples held hands, children giggled and tugged at each other's coat sleeves and groups of friends coaxed one another into showing off with a dizzying spin or a sliding, skidding stop. There was even a crowd of Goblins, spinning on their helmets and guzzling beer. 

"Magical isn't it?" The drawling lilt popped her bubble of solitude and Sarah's stomach fluttered. She turned to find the king had returned, the hood of his cloak had fallen to rest askew on his shoulders and his tousled silver hair was peppered in a light dusting of snow. 

"Hmm... what's that?" She hummed, straightening out the hood.

Jareth smiled, shaking his head in amusement. "I do wonder where your mind wanders sometimes, precious." 

He motioned around them, arms spread wide. 

"I'm referring to the scenery of course. You know, ever since I was a child I've always thought that the snow just seems to make everything seem so magical, like the perfect portrait of a fairy tale, don't you think?"

A fairy tale complete with a rather dashing prince charming…. 

Sarah smiled with a nod and said, "there's definitely something magical about winter and being down here in the Underground has only served to accentuate it." 

"Do you know what else I love about winter?" Jareth arched a brow.

"What?"

"It's the perfect excuse to drink copious amounts of hot chocolate," he grinned, holding up two paper cups. She hadn't even noticed —she'd been too busy swooning to pay attention. 

"Though these days I have more preferred methods of maintaining body heat, this will have to suffice —for now," he said with a devilish grin, handing her a steaming cup.

"Thank you." Sarah sipped the hot drink and hummed in satisfaction, savouring the sweet mix of rich cocoa, whipped cream and mini marshmallows.

"You're most welcome, starlight." Jareth sipped his own drink with a content sigh, his sapphire eyes tracking the rowdy crowds a few feet away. He laughed when one of the Goblins spinning on its helmet veered off course, barrelling into his friends to knock them down like cackling skittles. 

"So tell me precious, do you merely plan to observe or do you plan at any point to perhaps join in?" The king gestured to the make-shift ice rink with an arched brow.

"Trust me, if I were to join in, we'd be heading straight back to the castle to visit the healer," Sarah laughed self-deprecatingly.

"Come starlight, where's your sense of adventure? Where's that sense of whimsy and thirst for danger?" Jareth smirked, his smirk morphing into a wicked grin.

"According to the torturous lessons you force me to endure, a queen isn't supposed to have a sense of adventure." 

Jareth barked a laugh. "Neither is a king but I refuse to live my life to such limiting constraints. Of course royal etiquette is important and it should be followed but it doesn't mean that we must stifle ourselves. Is this how you wish to live, constantly undermined by your newly acquired fear of taking risks?"

"If it means avoiding getting hurt then I'm more than happy to air on the side of caution..." Sarah sighed, reluctant to end up with a soggy bum and broken leg.

"Precious, don't take life so seriously, have you learnt nothing from the Goblins?" 

Sarah giggled.

"Is it truly your heart that's preventing you from taking the risk, or is it simply your mind working itself into a frenzy? Where's the woman who ran the Labyrinth, defied the king and risked a dip in the bog of eternal stench to save her friends?" 

Sarah's brows furrowed as she stared up at Jareth's mis-matched eyes. She knew that Jareth was right —she was a shadow of who she once was. 

After her stint in hell and so much pain, she'd lost her sense of adventure and her care-free outlook on life. She'd been moulded and morphed into an overly cautious, anxious drone. 

"Suppose I did want to join in... I don't have skates..." 

Jareth rolled his eyes with an expression that screamed exasperation which Sarah found highly amusing. The expression was as close to 'do you not know who I am?' as you could get. 

Jareth clicked his fingers and two pairs of skates appeared, hanging by the laces. He helped her into her skates before stepping into his own. He offered her his hand and Sarah felt her cheeks heat when their fingers intimately laced, flooding her with a sense of completion —the final piece of a jig-saw puzzle slotted into place.

As they begun to inch closer to the frozen lake, Sarah was hit with a fresh bout of nerves, envisioning her feet ripped out from beneath her the minute she stepped onto the ice. Picturing herself flat on her back with her legs in the air and not in the way that followed a skin flushing flood of liquid fire in her veins. Rather, she'd end up with an egg-shaped lump on the back of her head and drowning in shame.

Jareth stepped out onto the ice, for all intents and purposes the physical embodiment of elegance and unwavering grace. And, while Sarah meticulously attempted to replicate his elegant movements, she ended up with her arms and legs flailing, looking like she was having some kind of fit before landing unceremoniously on her ass.

"Such grace, such finesse, behold the next Anna Pavlova," Jareth drawled, stifling his laughter as he helped her back onto her feet. "I would have thought you'd be able to keep yourself on your feet for longer than a few seconds."

"Bite me, your majesty," Sarah scowled, her bottom lip jutting in a pout as she rubbed at her damp backside.

Jareth barked a laugh, closing the space between them with one fluid movement to cup her cheek in the palm of his hand. "I jest Sarah, tell me, how's your arse?" He grinned, flashing his pearly white teeth and Sarah couldn't suppress her laughter.

"A little bruised." 

"Would you perhaps like me to rub it better?" 

"Keep your hands to yourself, your highness.".

"I'll try but I make no promises." He winked and reached out to gently took her hands, slowly twisting their bodies until they were facing away from the growing crowds. He slowly started to propel himself backwards and Sarah faltered, feeling herself losing balance once again.

"Starlight you're over-thinking it, just concentrate on me and forget about what your feet are doing. Do you think you can do that?" Jareth smiled, there was no teasing in his voice this time, only soft reassurance and encouragement.

Sarah nodded, her eyes lifting to meet him. Her mouth curved up in a coy smile and she was so mesmerised by his ethereal beauty that she didn't realise they'd once again begun to move until she caught sight of the surrounding snow dusted trees that had started to blur in her peripheral vision. 

The weight of Jareth's hands in hers left her feeling shrouded in a blanket of safety and she knew that if she were to stumble, he would be the one to break her fall. 

Since they'd reunited, she'd willingly placed her heart in his hands and he'd never faltered. He'd always remained firm in his hold and she trusted him with her life. She couldn't imagine life without him by her side, the past seemed like a fever dream.

Jareth spun in a slow circle, his movements like the tentative steps of a ballroom dance. The world around them seemed to distort until she imagined it was just the two of them. No spectators, no royal protocol, just two lovers in a lover's embrace. 

Their minds, body's and souls unified in a dance that would last forever.

---

Sarah's eyes drifted from the flickering burnt-sienna flames of the campfire that danced and swayed, licking at the night sky to the large expense of still, serene midnight black water of the lake a few feet away. The silvery light of the moon reflected on the glass-like surface of the water to create a hauntingly beautiful ghostly sheen. 

Sarah peered up at the dark night sky and found herself once again mesmerised by the vivid inky black. The picturesque canvas was interspersed with puddles of indigo and violet along with stars that glittered gold and winkled in full-view.

"It's so beautiful," she gushed, unable to tear her eyes away.

"It pales in comparison to your beauty, starlight." 

Sarah lowered her gaze to find Jareth observing her with a look of adulation and her stomach fluttered. She smiled back at him shyly. "What's that look for?" 

"I…" Jareth paused and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, seeming to be searching for the right words. "Sarah there's something I've been meaning to ask you..."

"There is? What is it you wanted to ask?" She tilted her head curiously.

Jareth stared deep into her eyes, the action so intimate and intense that she swore he could see into her very soul. His beautiful sapphire orbs flickered with warmth and affection and Sarah wondered if he saw that very same warmth and affection reflected in her own eyes. 

She observed the king as he slipped his hand into the inner pocket of his cloak to produce a small, black velvet box and her heart pounded in anticipation. 

Was it an engagement ring? 

Was he going to ask her to marry him? 

Was her apparent destiny finally going to become reality?

Sarah's eyes widened when the king cautiously flipped open the lid and she stared down at the most beautiful ring she'd ever set eyes on. The ring was a delicate filigreed gold band studded with tiny diamonds nestled either side of a large, solitaire cut emerald. 

"It was my mother's…" He smiled sadly. "I know this is what she'd have wanted and I know that she'd have loved you, had she not passed behind the veil."

Sarah swallowed around the lump in her throat.

"Sarah, I apologise for how our relationship started. I truly regret the choices I made that night but I'm not sure that I'd choose to change them as those choices led to this very moment…" 

"You've turned my whole world upside down. You've pulled me out of the darkness and showed me that there can still be light. You were the only one who was able to remind me what it is to live, rather than to merely exist. With my mother and father both beyond the veil and no siblings, I grew stuck in ways of arrogance and self-importance. 

Sarah I want to be the one who shows you your true worth because precious, you're worth more than anything I can offer and it's an honour to call you mine."

Sarah felt her eyes begin to brim with tears of happiness —a happiness she'd never felt until she'd met Jareth.

Jareth sighed, exhaling a light chuckle. "I've never been great with words."

Sarah laughed, "I thought you couldn't lie Jareth? Because that right there, is a whopper." 

Jareth grinned and said, "I'm trying to be modest." 

"There's nothing modest about you Goblin King." 

"Wench." Jareth playfully growled, planting a hard kiss to her mouth. 

"Regardless, even if I was—"

Sarah gave him a look. 

"Fine—" he rolled his eyes. "—although I'm a walking Thesaurus with the ability to put Shakespeare to shame—" 

Sarah laughed out loud when Jareth shot her a 'happy now?' glare. 

"There truly aren't enough words to describe how I feel about you Sarah and I suppose what I'm trying and embarrassingly failing to do here is…" The king tentatively removed the ring from it's plush velvet cushion and reached for her hand. 

The pad of his thumb tenderly stroked her knuckles. "Sarah, will you do me the absolute honour of becoming my wife?" 

Sarah's cheeks ached from the force of her smile as happy tears trickled down her cheeks. "Yes." She nodded, wiping her leaking eyes with the back of her free hand.

"Yes?" Jareth grinned.

"A thousand times yes!" She beamed, squealing when Jareth swept her into his arms, peppering her face with playful kisses before setting her back on her feet. 

Her heart fluttered when the king slipped the ring onto her finger, his face alight with a triumphant smile.

"I love you Sarah," he smiled, kissing the back of her hand. 

"I love you too Jareth," she grinned and leapt into his arms. 

Chapter 13: More Than Human

Sarah padded into the bathroom where the heady, sweet perfume of vanilla, almond milk and honeysuckle lingered pleasingly in the air. 

She stared down at the steaming bath, skimming the tips of her fingers across a mound of fragrant bubbles. She breathed in the saccharine perfume of the water with a smile, hearing the muted click of the bathroom door close behind her and turned to find Jareth wearing a mischievous smirk on his handsome face.

"Hi," he drawled, slinking to where she stood by the edge of the bath.

"Hey," she beamed in return, draping her arms around his neck to press her body against him. "Wanna join me?" 

"As torturously tempting as that offer is precious, I actually have something I need to attend to." Jareth sighed, brushing hair behind her ear.

"You too?" Sarah pouted. "Where is everyone? It's like a ghost town here —how's a girl supposed to show off the rock on her finger if there's no-one around to see it?"

Jareth chuckled and said, "patience Sarah-mine, everything will become clear in good time."

Sarah arched a brow in suspicion. "What are you planning?" 

"Little old me? Nothing," he grinned, kissing her forehead. "Now, how about you make use of the water before it runs cold."

"I don't think I can get out of this dress without help and Kaylin's incognito." 

"Then allow me..." he drawled in a dreamy lilt that hooked a direct line to her libido. 

He slowly turned her in his arms and deft fingers worked the ribbon ties on her corset. The feel of his fingers grazing her bare skin elicited a sensual shiver that ran the length of her spie and she bit her lip against the giddy flutter in her stomach when the same fingertips danced across her shoulders. 

Soft thin lips sought her neck as he slid her dress down her arms, guiding it down the curve of her waist and over her hips. She stepped out of the puddle of heavy fabric by her feet and sank against a firm chest while strong arms wrapped around her middle, drawing her in.

Sarah sucked in a sharp intake of air when warm hands grazed her stomach, travelling the slender dip of her waist before rounding over her ribs to cup her breasts. A low moan escaped her when his thumbs brushed her pebbled buds at the same time those insatiable lips nipped the juncture of her neck and shoulder. 

The Goblin King's lips continued their teasing caress of her shoulders while he unclasped her bra, guiding the straps down the length of her arms and let it drop to join her dress pooled by her feet. 

A familiar ache settled between her thighs when torturous fingers begin to tug and tease the waistband of her knickers, sliding the lacy material down her thighs before coming to an abrupt stop at her ankles. "Enjoy precious," he breathed into her ear, gently biting her lobe. 

Sarah watched in a haze of pent up lust as he strolled out of the bathroom, shooting her a wink when he reached the door. She giggled and playfully stuck out her tongue, the sound of his laughter fading when he pulled the door closed behind him. 

She exhaled a frustrated breath and stared at the pile of discarded clothes by her feet. She shook off the remaining ripples of arousal and lured by the sugary sweet scent of the water, Sarah climbed into the bath. 

She hummed a content sigh and sank into the blissfully warm water, encompassed by the perfumed bubbles as she leant her head back against cool marble. Sarah smiled to herself, running the tips of her fingers over a mound of bubbles by her hip, marvelling at how they dissolved beneath even the faintest of caresses. 

Her mind wandered to her king and thoughts of how she herself so easily melted beneath his tender, often teasingly torturous caress. She lifted her hand from the water and a brilliant smile lit up her face, still completely awestruck ny the beautiful vintage ring nestled firmly on her ring finger.

When the water became tepid and no longer tolerable, Sarah drained the tub and towelled herself dry, slipping into her favourite crimson silk robe and padded into the bedroom..

Lost in her own thoughts, Sarah almost screamed when she lifted her head and found she wasn't alone. "Kaylin!" She gasped, clutching her hand over her heart. "You scared the shit out of me." 

"My apologies my lady, I didn't mean to startle you." Kaylin frowned guiltily, her lilac eyes lowering with abashment. "I should have made my presence known, I didn't think... I—" She flustered, nervously wringing her hands.

"Hey it's OK Kaylin, don't worry about it." Sarah assured her. "I was actually wondering where you'd gotten to —I haven't seen you all day." 

"My apologies but the king requested I perform additional duties today," she gave a vague explanation. "Are you done bathing? The king has requested I prepare you."

"Prepare me for what? I'm not a Christmas turkey." Sarah playfully rolled her eyes eliciting laughter from her lady-in-waiting.

"Quite right my lady." 

"What exactly do you need to prepare me for?" Sarah arched a brow though deep down she couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with the ring on her finger.

"I'm not at liberty to tell you." Kaylin smirked, her eyes drifting to Sarah's left hand and her smirk morphed into a beaming smile. 

"Oh my! It's so beautiful!" She gushed, lifting Sarah's hand to get a better look at the extravagant jewellery.

"It belonged to Jareth's mother… I still can't believe it's actually happening."

"You were made for each other Sarah, you were destined to be his majesty's queen. You're the Champion of the Labyrinth. The Kingdom chose you and I'm so happy for you —you deserve happiness after all you've endured."

"Stop, you'll make me emotional." Sarah shook her head, squeezing Kaylin's delicate wrists. "So, this preparation, I assume it involves a ridiculously extravagant dress?"

"Of course," Kaylin grinned.

---

Sarah stared at herself in the mirror, completely stunned by the reflection staring back at her. 

Kaylin had pinned her hair into a high bun, each side propped and held in place by two identically dazzling diamanté hair combs shaped like two intricate fairy wings. The fae woman had worked magic as always with her make-up, contouring and powdering her pale complexion until there remained no trace of the lingering dark circles born of sleepless nights. 

The colour of her eyes had been accentuated by a complementary blending of rose pink and silver glittery eyeshadow along with lashes of mascara. Her eyebrows had been primped and preened to perfection while her lips were plumped by a slick of vivid cranberry lipstick.

Her eyes lowered from her flawless face to the equally flawless dress. The dress the king had ordered to be customised was form-fitting and clung to her waist, draping perfectly over her curves. The silken fabric felt luxurious against her skin and seemed to shimmer between a deep crimson to an almost rich plum in the light. 

The sleeves of the dress came to her wrists. Hugging her arms perfectly while the bodice was adorned with swirling patterns of gold thread with a heart-shaped neckline that showed just a glimpse of cleavage.

Kaylin conjured a pearl crystal and with a muted pop, a pair of metallic silver pumps appeared by the foot of the bed.

"Is everything to your approval my lady?" Kaylin asked while Sarah continued to gawp at herself in the mirror.

"I don't even look like me." She frowned, her fingers brushing her face.

"No —you look like the Goblin Queen," Kaylin smiled beatifically and Sarah felt the corners of her mouth turn up in the ghost of a smile.

His queen.

His wife.

A knock on the chamber doors stole Sarah's attention away from her reflection and she called out for the visitor to enter. 

"I hear congratulations are in order?" A familiar voice chimed and Sarah spun around so fast she almost lost balance. The tell-tale prickle of tears stung her eyes as she stared at the grinning face of her best friend. 

"Jodie?" Sarah gasped in disbelief, momentarily convinced she was hallucinating. "But —how?"

"Your fiancé popped in for a chat, he mentioned something about sharing some good news?" Jodie smiled, holding her arms out in offering.

Sarah squealed in delight and barrelled into her arms.

"Lurch couldn't contain his happiness —sickening really," Jodie teased. "Anyway, I've been sent with the orders that you're to head down to the ballroom. He's a bossy one, that Goblin King, ordering me around like I'm staff —you look hot by the way." 

Sarah giggled. "Thanks, Kaylin worked her magic as usual." 

"Kaylin?" 

"My lady-in-waiting," Sarah clarified, introducing the two. 

"Lady in—" Jodie cut herself off. "Well fuck me, you really are royalty." 

"Not officially," Sarah blushed. 

"Yeah well don't expect me to curtsy and call you 'your majesty', you'll always be the girl who had a breakdown over breakfast because you masterbated," Jodie smirked and a burst of laughter sounded behind them. 

Sarah looked back over her shoulder to find Kaylin covering her mouth, her cheeks flushed and eyes twinkling with mirth. "Forgive me, my lady," she swallowed her amusement and Sarah laughed with a dismissive wave. 

"C'mon, before Frankenfurter throws a hissy fit," Jodie said, nudging Sarah toward the chamber doors. 

---

Sarah stood outside the heavy mahogany doors nervously fussing with the skirt of her dress with one hand while the other fussed with her hair. 

She glanced at Jodie who gave her a knowing smile, reaching for the polished brass handle. The door slowly swung open and she tentatively stepped forward, pausing a few feet inside the hall with her mouth agape. 

It looked nothing like the ballroom she'd been in only a few hours earlier. Metallic streamers were strung from the ceiling with glittering golden stars and powdery sparkles were suspended in mid-air, held in place by magic. 

A huge platinum replica of the kingdom's emblem took pride of place on the wall between the two central windows wrapped in snow-white fairy lights. 

Pushed up against the walls were plush satin cushions in shades of crimson, emerald and violet where lavishly dressed strangers and royals lounged, huddled in intimate conversation. Smartly dressed palace staff flitted around the room offering crystal glasses of champagne and canapés while on the opposite end of the ballroom was a sprawling table laden with delicious looking food and sweet treats.

"I kinda thought there'd be more Goblins," Jodie said, looking around the room with curiosity. 

"They'll be in the throne room covering in Goblin ale and chicken shit." 

"Sounds like a party," Jodie quipped and Sarah laughed out loud, flushing when she felt multiple eyes dart in her direction. 

"You look beautiful, Sarah." The voice came from behind her as a warm palm pressed lightly against the small of her back eliciting a pleasurable shiver.

Sarah's breath caught in her throat when she turned to face the immortal king in all his ethereal beauty. His hair was wild, his sapphire eyes lined with kohl and decorated with metallic shadow that complimented his outfit. 

He was clad in a silk shirt that was a reflection of the same shimmering crimson/plum as her dress. The shirt fell open over his chest, the silver pendant of the kingdom's emblem resting against his sternum. His bottom half was clad in leather britches and boots. 

"You look nice." Sarah swallowed dumbly, her mouth feeling overly dry as nerves made her stomach flutter.

Jareth's lips quirked in an amused smile, his eyes dancing with mirth. "Most gracious of you, my queen." 

"Well I'm gonna leave you two lovebirds to swoon over each other —if you need me, I'll be face first in the sugar cookies," Jodie said, making a bee-line for the back of the room. 

Kendrick chose that moment to approach with a golden tray laden with glasses of fizzing champagne balanced in the palm of his hand. Jareth plucked two of the sparkling crystal glasses from the tray with a grateful assent of his head and handed one to Sarah with a charming smile. 

"Thank you." She blushed, feeling far too exposed beneath his piercing gaze. 

He still had that same mesmerising affect on her as he did the day that they met.

Could he feel the warmth spreading throughout her body at the mere thought of being his wife and his queen swam through her head? 

Could he feel just how much he meant to her, how all the words in the world were not enough to describe her love for him?

Sarah averted her eyes, taking a delicate sip of her champagne. "How you managed to hide this from me is a mystery." She smiled, looking around the room in awe once again. 

"Do you like it?" Jareth asked, taking her hand in his.

"Like it? I love it." She gushed, her cheeks flushing when Jareth lifted her hand, his thumb grazing the ring decorating her finger with a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Come precious, allow me to show you off a little." He grinned wolfishly, propelling her in the direction of three unfamiliar faces —King Oberon, Queen Tatiana and their daughter, Princess Aubree. Jareth's ex-fiancee.  

---

Sarah slipped into the hollow alcove at the back of the dais which was hidden out of sight by two high-backed thrones and curving stone. 

She could feel her face was flushed not only from the seemingly never-ending supply of champagne and elven wine but also from the way being on Jareth's arm made her feel. 

In a room full of stunningly beautiful women, Jareth made her feel like the only one his eyes could see. The way his fingers grazed her arm or the small of her back while they made idle chit-chat and received congratulations from his fellow royals and other guests made her skin tingle while liquid fire pulsed through her veins.

So far she'd managed not to say anything foolish and had somehow managed to remember all that Aengus had taught her thus far. Though she did find herself stumbling over her words every so often, so awestruck at being pooled amongst such powerful rulers. 

She tried her best to ignore the sinister voice lurking in the back of her mind whispering cruel notions about her not belonging. The same voice that had taken hold of her on her second night at the palace. 

The voice sneered that she was inferior and inadequate —an untalented, breakable human in a room full of immortal, magical, powerful beings. She felt particularly second-rate when stood beside Princess Aubree and her snow-white hair, cherry lips and indigo eyes. 

Why would Jareth want her as his queen when there was an abundance of beautiful, magical, powerful women? Women who were equally as enchanting and bewitching as the king himself. 

What did she have? 

Sarah sighed, slumping against the cool stone, nibbling on a generously iced sugar cookie. She wished she could be more like Jodie who seriously did not give a shit who she was surrounded by. She was more than content to stuff her face, get drunk and fawn over Jaxon —Jareth's advisor. 

"You know, I could do with a time-out myself, these affairs can be so tedious." Jareth stepped into the small space, his powerful presence sucking all the air from her lungs. 

"Are you alright, Sarah?" He asked, cocking his head as his hand cupped her cheek. The warmth of his palm bled beneath her skin, deepening the flush of her cheeks.

"Yeah, I guess I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed."

"Are you sure that's all it is?" He pressed, closing the space between them, his arms snaking around her hips. The intoxicating scent of him flooded her senses making her feel light-headed as her throat worked. Her tongue yearned to voice her fears while her head told her to keep her mouth shut.

She didn't want him to think of her as weak, weak wasn't worthy of the majesty and power of the Goblin King.

"Talk to me Sarah..." He ghosted his lips across her jaw.

"I'm just having a moment..."

"Why?"

"I feel inferior, Jareth. Being here among all these powerful immortals and magical creatures makes me realise how human I am. How flawed and talentless I am!" She blurted, averting her eyes out of shame.

"Sarah, you are far from merely human." Jareth tilted her chin with a slender finger, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"You're beautiful, intelligent, brave, caring, feisty and loyal to name a few. The Labyrinth must have sensed something special within you to make you its Champion. The Labyrinth is a sentient being —it thinks, it feels, it aids…" 

"You mean that it wasn't you going easy on me or helping me in some way?" 

"Me? Purposely set out to lose? Never," Jareth pulled a face and Sarah giggled. 

"Sarah, your soul is not meant for the constraints of everyday life in the Overground. You belong here with me where you can flourish and bloom into the being that you were destined to be. You're my queen Sarah. My soul to take, my heart never to break."

"I am?" She whispered, uncertain.

"Yes precious, you are." He smiled, drawing her into a slow, tender kiss. "Now, I was actually serious about needing a time out." 

"You can't leave your own party, Jareth." Sarah laughed, looping her arms around his neck to toy with his hair.

"Not literally perhaps but a man can dream, no?" He bit his lip hotly, eyes roaming her face before dropping to the neckline of her dress. 

"Indulge me, my queen —imagine we've finally escaped this tedious affair. I escort you back to our chambers and we're in the mood—"

"For dancing?"

Jareth barked a laugh, playfully pushing her up against the wall, pinning her with his body. God the weight of him against her was glorious.

"Not quite precious. I was meaning more on the lines of in the mood for love..." He drew her into a succession of lingering kisses.

"Imagine we've just stumbled into our chambers, clothes are flying in every direction, hands are wandering, lips are teasing. I throw you onto the bed and I tell you that I can't wait to be inside you —what would you say in reply, Sarah?"

She chewed on her bottom lip and felt heat pool low in her stomach. She could feel herself growing wet from the thought of his cock buried deep in her aching, wet heat. 

"I'd tell you that the thought of feeling you buried deep inside me is making me wet…" Her confidence grew as she observed his eyes darkened with lust.

"I pin you beneath me, caressing your mouth-watering curves until I reach the warm, wet spot between your thighs. I slowly slide your knickers to the side and your honey sweet nectar trickles between my fingers. I ask, is this all for me?"

Holy shit.

Sarah was getting so turned on from the sound of his articulated lilt describing in explicit detail what he'd do to her that she could feel any iota of shyness she may have previously harboured fade until all that was left was a deep-rooted desire. 

"Mmhmm… how do I taste your majesty?" She purred.

"Indescribable," Jareth groaned, crushing her lips in a hungry kiss, nudging her throbbing apex with the rock-hard bulge straining against his trousers.

"You're so hard…" Sarah whispered breathlessly.

"Hard because I want you, precious." 

"It feels so good, so hard… you're making me hard…" Sarah murmured, realising seconds later what she'd said and the two of them burst into a fit of laughter.

"Enlighten me precious, what part of you exactly am I making hard?" Jareth teased, his brow arched while Sarah giggled, covering her face with her hands.

"You should get back to the party before someone comes looking for you," she sighed, reluctantly pushing him back.

Jareth allowed her to lead him, stepping back with an unimpressed grimace. "I may need a second," he smirked and Sarah felt her cheeks flush, her eyes automatically drifting to the bulge straining against the constraints of his britches.

---

"Where beyond the veil do you hail from, my lady?" Jaxon inquired, draining the last dregs of the mead sloshing against the sides of his glass. It was the first time she'd seen Jareth's usually tightly-wound advisor look even remotely dishevelled. 

Judging by the way Jodie was hanging on his every word and the way Jaxon himself leaned into her space, Sarah had little doubt that her friend was the cause of this change in demeanor. 

"I'm originally from New England but I was in Salem before reuniting with Ja— I mean the king," she flustered, feeling her cheeks heat in reaction to her obvious error.

Jaxon smirked, shaking his head in amusement. "Don't worry, I won't tell him if you don't," the youthful fae chuckled, grabbing another tumbler of mead from a passing server.

"You won't tell who, what Jaxon?" Jareth's voice sounded from behind her and her stomach fluttered in response.

"That she dared to call you Jareth rather than some poncy royal title," Jodie hiccuped and Jaxon bit back his amusement. 

"It was a slip of the tongue but I can assure you and anyone else that Jareth is my king and he is the only one who rules me," Sarah said confidently. 

"Ooooo the dick must be exquisite," Jodie retorted and Jaxon released a strangled noise of amusement to which Jareth glared, planting his hands on his hips. 

"Let's get you another drink," Jaxon hurriedly steered Jodie away from the irritated king. 

Jareth turned to face her. "Your friend is a little heathen who has an oubliette with her name on it. Then again, perhaps a dip in the bog of eternal stench might suffice." 

"She's harmless, Jareth." 

"She's a Goblin in human guise," he scowled and Sarah snorted. 

"Anyway, enough of that little wench… I'm your king am I?" Jareth drawled, his eyes blazing the fire of desire. 

"Of course."

"When I finally get my hands on you, I'm going to worship you. I'll rule that flushed body of yours in such a way that you'll forget your own name. All you'll know is that I'm your king and your body is my kingdom," Jareth breathed, his lips ghosting the sensitive spot behind her ear. 

"I'm sure you'll remind me of my name when you're moaning it, your majesty," she countered seductively.

Jareth exhaled sharply. "Sarah, you're making me uncomfortably hard." 

"And you're making me uncomfortably wet..."

"Sarah..." 

"Your majesty!" Someone hollered from across the hall and the spark of electricity between them faded to a dull hum. 

"You should go," she smiled, her fingers grazing his knuckles. 

"Temptress," he murmured with a pout as she watched him weave his way through the sea of merry revellers.

---

The party was starting to wind down and Jaxon was admittedly feeling the effects of the copious amount of mead he'd thrown back as the evening had turned into night.  

He'd been watching Jodie from across the ballroom, his eyes roaming her lithe body as she spun and twirled around the dance floor with the future queen. The sound of her laughter made his chest feel warm. It had been a long time since he'd felt such a spark, feeling the air crackle and fizz around them whenever they drew close.

She was a destructive force there was no doubt about that but he couldn't help but want her to ruin him. He drained the last of the mead pooling at the bottom of his glass and pushed himself away from the wall, making a bee-line for the enchanting human..

Jax caught her hand when she spun in his direction and pulled her towards the doors, catching the queen's knowing look as they retreated. Once in the corridor he bustled her into the closest alcove and pushed her back against the wall.  

"Jaxon, what are you doing?" Jodie giggled, draping her arms over his shoulders, her face flushed from Elven wine and Champagne.

"If I don't find out what's under this dress, I fear I may perish." 

"Oh well, I wouldn't want you to perish Jax —you're far too useful," she smirked, boldly cupping his stiffening cock. 

"God's you're perfect," he breathed, trailing his tongue the length of her neck while his hands bunched the skirt of her dress, lifting it to rest at her hips. 

"Say it again," Jodie whispered, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. 

"You're perfect," he said and meant it. She was the perfect cocktail of rebellion, beauty and loyalty. 

Her breath hitched when his fingers teased the crotch of her knickers and he sucked her bottom lip, coaxing her into a hot, wet kiss as his fingers slid inside her knickers. 

Jodie moaned, her moans of pleasure muted by his hungry kiss as his fingers inched inside her dripping wet heat. "God's I want you," Jax murmured, covering her face and neck in kisses while his fingers stroked her inner walls. 

"I want you too," she swallowed breathlessly.

"Ahem..."

Jaxon's head snapped up, whipping back to glance over his shoulder and found the future queen stood with her arms folded over her chest, her brow arched with a mixture of curiosity and mirth.

Jaxon quickly straightened himself out, shielding Jodie with his body while she regained her composure. He could feel the evidence of her desire starting to dry on his fingers and he had to stifle the urge to taste her.

"You know, you two might wanna go somewhere more private, Jareth might be in a good mood but I doubt finding his advisor and my best friend screwing in the corridor is going to keep it that way." 

The doors to the ballroom opened and a sea of bodies spilled out into the corridor. The sound of laughter, drunken singing and celebratory cheers echoing around the walls.  

"I need to borrow her for awhile, I'll send her to your room once we're done," Sarah smirked, beckoning Jodie to her side. 

Jaxon carded his fingers through his hair as he watched Jodie leave, wondering if the king would let him keep her. 

---

"Are you sure I don't look slutty?" Sarah asked nervously, her fingers tracing the curve of her waist as she studied herself in the mirror. 

She'd decided to give the king his own surprise and enlisted the help of Kaylin to find her something sexy and a little less demure for the bedroom. Kaylin had plied her with a pretty ivory lace basque that pushed up her breasts and cinched her waist, obscenely accentuating her figure. 

The basque also worked as a built-in suspender belt to which Kaylin had supplied a pair of white thigh-high stockings, a matching garter and lacey French knickers.

"Isn't that the point?" Jodie said over her shoulder from the balcony doors while Kaylin decorated the bed with rose petals. 

"Well yeah but I'm the future queen, surely there are rules about dressing slutty?" She frowned.

"In public yes but in the bedroom you are free to do as you wish, my lady." Kaylin shrugged, covering her mouth with a giggle when a stray hiccup made her chest hitch.

"You're drunk," Sarah laughed, shaking her head in amusement. 

"Perhaps a little."

"I'm not going to be so lady-like about it, I'm fucking smashed —that Elven wine… it's a better high than Lithium," Jodie said, plonking herself onto the vanity stool.

"Is that why you were about to shag Jaxon in the corridor?" Sarah lowered herself to perch on the end of the bed.  

Kaylin gasped. "The king's advisor?" 

"No Sarah, I was going to shag Jaxon because he's gorgeous and from the brief feel I got, he's got a huge co—"

"TMI Jodes," Sarah covered her ears. "Thanks for your help Kaylin, could you please escort Jodie to Jaxons quarters as promised."

"Of course, my lady," Kaylin giggled before vanishing from the room with Jodie in tow.

---

It wasn't long before she heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside and a pulsing ache settled in her core. Her skin felt hot and her arousal was through the roof. 

"Sarah?" Jareth's voice called out as the doors to the chambers opened.

"In the bedroom," she called back. 

Her breath caught in her throat in reaction to the intensity of Jareth's stare as he froze in the archway. His eyes were dark and stormy and she immediately felt the lace of her underwear grow damp with desire. 

Jareth stood in the middle of the room, beckoning her with his finger. She rose and crossed the room, putting a little extra sass in her step as she did so. "Come to make good on your promise to worship me Goblin King?" She smirked, fingers dancing over the buttons of his shirt.

"Perhaps…" he drawled and she bit her bottom lip between her teeth, splaying her hands against his chest when his shirt fell open.

Jareth whipped off his shirt and tossed it to the floor, his hands snaking their way down to her ass. She exhaled a shaky breath when he squeezed the soft flesh between his fingers. 

"You look simply ravishing, precious. Is this all for me?" He smirked, walking her back towards the bed.

"Perhaps… Do you like it? I've been informed that royal etiquette doesn't apply to our chambers and I can be as slutty as I want," she smirked, reaching between them to cup him and Jareth groaned, his fingers digging into her ass while his lips sought her neck and collarbone. 

Sarah shuddered, the feel of his warm lips ghosting her bare skin was glorious. Before she got carried away, she turned him so that his back was towards the bed and gently pushed him down to sit. 

"Like it precious? I'm in awe of it," Jareth licked at his lips, appraising her with hungry eyes. 

She gazed deep into his hungry sapphire eyes and using her hands to create pressure against his cock, she balanced her body from the inside of his thighs and pushed her breasts up against his lower abdomen. Sarah slowly slithered her way up his body, making sure she took her time, teasing him and riling him up.

She set her chin in the crook of his neck and gently nuzzled, exhaling a soft moan when her lips ghosted his skin. 

Sarah smirked when Jareth groaned, his fists gripping the sheets and she pushed herself up a little further to purr in his ear "I want you so badly, Goblin King," she said, nipping at his earlobe.  

She could feel his cock push against her hands that were resting on his crotch and between her thighs ached —her knickers were soaking wet. Sarah ran her hands up his body while her knee pushed against his crotch. Winding her body into an upright position, making sure her knee constantly brushed against his cock.

Jareth cupped her breasts, the pads of his thumbs brushing her peaked buds and she moaned. She met his gaze and found his eyes hooded with lust, the fire of desire turning his irises a darker shade of blue —so much so that they could almost be mistaken for black. 

Jareth slid his hand between her thighs and she gasped when his deft fingers traced her lust drenched folds. "You're so wet Sarah..." he drawled, his fingers inching closer to her sensitive bud.

Sarah plucked at his lips with a slow, sensual kiss. "I want to taste myself on your tongue..." she whispered, tracing his bottom lip with her thumb. 

Jareth's eyes flashed hotly while a sly smirk curved the corners of his mouth. "Precious, I'm going to make you wet the bed..." he breathed, grabbing her and tossed her onto the bed.  

He straddled her body and drew her into a hungry kiss. His tongue explored her mouth while his teeth bit her bottom lip in a way that made her whimper. Her fingers became tangled in his hair and she hummed with pleasure as the kiss reached new, bordering on violent heights. 

She moaned and palmed the sheets when her king yanked down the lacy, padded cups of her basque and covered her breasts with his hungry mouth. He sucked her peaked bud, his tongue drawing seductive patterns across her sensitive flesh while he teased the other breast with deft fingers. 

Jareth ghosted his mouth down the length of her stomach and dropped to his knees between her thighs. Sarah's breath hitched when he teased his tongue over her underwear, tugging at the lace with his teeth. 

He raised one leg and slowly unclipped her stocking while his lips ghosted the arch of her feet. He teasingly rolled the nylon fabric down the length of her legs, before repeating the process.  

She propped herself up on her hands, obediently lifting her hips when Jareth hooked his fingers beneath the band of her underwear to guide them over her hips and thighs. She observed him hungrily as he kissed his way between her thighs, his eyes trained on hers as he ran his tongue over her slick slit, twirling his tongue over her pulsing clit.

A low moan tumbled from her parted kiss-swollen lips and her head dropped back against her shoulders when he buried his tongue inside her, drinking in her desire. 

Sarah collapsed against the mattress, her back arching when his edacious lips covered her throbbing bud while two fingers slid inside her aching heat to stroke her g-spot.  

She panted and writhed against the silk sheets, heels digging into the mattress when the king's sensual ministrations grew more insistent. She whimpered an her body propelled further up the bed from the way she was pushing on her heels, unable to process such unfathomable pleasure. 

The king didn't relent in his ravenous pursuit however, and he followed her movements, using one hand to pin her hips and still her movements. She could feel a familiar pressure building with speed and her legs began to tremble. 

"Oh Jareth..." she moaned, unable to hold back her cries of rapture. When the pressure became almost unbearable, her body erupted and she cried with euphoria. A gush of something warm and wet coated her thighs, staining the expensive sheets beneath her.

Sarah panted and every muscle in her body quivered as she tried to catch her breath. Just as the stars obscuring her vision cleared, Jareth towered over her, his mouth and bare chest covered in the remnants of her desire. 

"I haven't finished with you yet, precious," he smirked, pulling her upright before pushing her back against the pillows. He covered her mouth in a kiss so hot, it took her breath away and she moaned against into his mouth, smoothing her hands across his damp chest.

Jareth brushed his fingers over her lips and she could feel they were still wet and sticky with her slick. Sarah drew her tongue over his fingers and hummed, smirking when the king's eyes darkened further. A low growl rumbled in his chest and he gripped her hips, entering her in one deep, forceful thrust. She cried out with pleasure, her cries muted by a hard, unforgiving kiss.

Jareth rolled his hips, driving himself hard and deep, right to the hilt leaving her whimpering and arching in ecstasy. He sent her over the edge again and again with no time to catch her breath. 

"Harder..." she moaned, her fingers digging into the taut muscle of his back. The king gripped the headboard with one hand and held his weight with the other, the heel of his hand digging into the pillow beside her head as he used the headboard as leverage, working himself into her hard, fast and deliciously deep.

The king panted, groaning as his body began to tremble. She squeezed him and he jerked in response. "Sarah..." he moaned. His hand slipped from the headboard as his muscles trembled and she felt him pulsed inside her, filling her with his hot, sticky seed.

The king slumped against the pillows, the dampness of the sheets cool against his bare calves. Sarah sighed and draped herself over his chest, her feather soft curls tickling his jaw. 

Jareth tenderly stroked her hair and kissed her crown. "Are you OK Sarah?" He murmured, still floating in post-orgasmic bliss.

"Mmhmm..." Sarah replied dreamily and he chuckled, lacing his fingers with hers and held their joined hands against his chest.  

"Are you satisfied?" 

"Completely," she smiled, peering up at him through her lush, thick lashes, her beautiful emerald eyes sparkling with affection. 

"I honestly do love you." 

"I love you too, Jareth," she beamed, beckoning him towards her invitingly swollen lips.

Chapter 14: Emotional Rollercoaster

Sarah woke, instantly knowing that she was moments away from vomiting when nausea tied her stomach in knots. Her cheeks unpleasantly tingled and her mouth began to flood with saliva. "Oh God..." she whimpered, slamming her hand over her mouth and stumbled out of bed. 

She sprinted across the room toward the bathroom where she unceremoniously dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, uncovering her mouth just in time for a stream of vomit to spew from between her lips. Vomit splattered against the pristine porcelain bowl and the sour stench of puke made her retch. 

"Sarah?" Jareth asked sleepily, entering the bathroom rubbing his eyes. "What happened, are you sick?"

"I—" She was cut off by another torrent of vomit.

"Bloody hell, Sarah," Jareth grimaced with concern, his hands moving to brush her hair from her sweat slick face.

Exhausted from the unexpected puke-fest, Sarah slumped back against Jareth's thighs before collapsing in a heap on the cool, marble floor. 

"Go back to bed Jareth, I'll be fine," she groaned, massaging her clammy forehead between her thumb and forefinger. 

Nausea still lingered and her stomach felt as though it'd been flipped upside down. Honestly, despite the floor not being of optimum comfort, she didn't have any plans to move —not for a while at least. She knew she'd only end up sprinting back and she could do without the athletics. 

She was so tired.

"Starlight, I'm not leaving you alone to vomit and pass out on the bloody bathroom floor." 

"Why is it not becoming of a queen?" She scoffed sardonically.

"My reluctance to leave you like this has no relation to what a queen should or shouldn't do but rather it has every relation to my concern for your health Sarah," he responded haughtily and momentarily disappeared before reappearing seconds later with two cushions and two thick blankets from the sitting room couch. 

Jareth gently set a cushion beneath her head and covered her with one of the blankets. She was overcome with emotion and his tender gesture was too much. She felt the all too familiar sting of tears building behind her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, wiping her leaking eyes.

"Sarah..." Jareth sighed worriedly, stroking her forehead before settling himself beside her on the floor.

---

Sarah's stomach wavered unfavourably when the normally tantalising aroma of coffee flooded her senses. However, rather than making her want to indulge in the fragrant drink, it made her want to barf.

"Looks like someone over-indulged on the champers last night," Jodie grinned at her from across the table. "You look like your about to puke into your eggs Sar."

Sarah might be a rookie when it came to alcohol and it's less than friendly after-effects on exceeding her limits but with how severely drained, nauseous and emotional she was feeling, she was inclined to believe that her fragile state wasn't necessarily due to the amount of champagne she'd indulged in.

It wasn't just the nausea and exhaustion that was plaguing her either. She felt uncomfortably bloated and her thighs ached like she'd spent the night doing squats.

"It's good to know my misery amuses you Jodie," she pouted, picking at a pecan plait, pushing away the cup of coffee that was making her insides wobble.

"Has it grown cold your majesty? Would you like me to pour you another cup?" Kendrick asked, gesturing to the neglected cup of coffee as he collected the empty plates cluttering the dining table.

"No thank you —I don't think I can stomach it." 

"The king's precious is living up to the name, she's rather fragile this morning," Jodie continued to tease and Jareth scowled. 

"What are you still doing here?" He narrowed his eyes, jabbing his fork in her direction. 

"There weren't any cabs so I bunked with Jaxon but don't worry, I paid in full —multiple times." 

Jareth choked on his coffee. "I beg your pardon?" 

"Oh I'm sorry your majesty, I should have explained in a way you'd understand. So here it is —I fornicated with your advisor on multiple occasions last night." 

Knuckles rapped against the doors to the dining hall and Jaxon stepped into the room holding a neatly rolled piece of parchment. He bowed low before the king, holding out the parchment in offering. 

"Word from Aengus, your majesty," he said, his seaweed green eyes drifting across the table. 

Jareth snatched the parchment from his advisor, his eyes blazing with fury. "What the hell do you think you're doing bedding her?" 

Jaxon looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Your majesty, I—"

"What's wrong your majesty, am I not even good enough for your advisor?" Jodie said acidly, but Sarah saw the hurt in her eyes. 

"He never said that, Jodie," Sarah shook her head. 

"Then what's his problem?" 

"My problem is that you're not mentally healthy and Jaxon should never have taken advantage!" 

"Are you calling me crazy?!" 

"Did I use that word?" 

"Your majesty, I would never take advantage of her, I'm aware of her mental state—" 

"Fuck this, if you all just see me as some crazy, mentally unstable freak then I'd rather go back to the place that at least isn't afraid to say it!" Jodie yelled, rising from the table to storm out of the room. 

"I'll speak to her, your highness. My sincerest apologies," Jaxon flustered, quick to follow, leaving Sarah and Jareth alone. 

Jareth exhaled a weary sigh and untied the crimson ribbon to unravel the parchment, skimming the contents of the note with a furrowed brow. "Aengus is unable to make it for your lessons for the next few days, his wives health has taken an unanticipated decline," he announced, setting the parchment beside his plate. "God's this place is turning into a bloody soap opera!" 

Sarah though sad to hear that Aengus's wife was once again sick, couldn't help but feel relieved that she wouldn't have to endure his gruelling royal etiquette lessons when all she wanted to do was crawl back into bed and sleep. However, her relief was short-lived when the king informed her of the upcoming alternative.

"As much as I'd like to give you the day off Sarah, unfortunately time is not on our side and with your coronation a not too distant prospect, I must ensure that you're prepared. Therefore, you'll continue your defence lessons," Jareth stated.

Sarah groaned, palming her forehead, already feeling a dull ache build behind her eyes. "Seriously?" She pouted, propping her cheek on her fist.

"There will be no physical exertion on your behalf starlight, just listen to what I have to say and observe what I have to show you." 

"You're teaching me?" 

"Don't sound too enthusiastic, precious."

"You have court and everything else going on, you don't have time and I'd only feel guilty…" 

"The bloody Goblins can wait, it will only be more demands for chickens and further petty squabbles. I know you're weary. I just want to ensure you're not alone while feeling so out of sorts. I hope you understand —I'm not purposely trying to be a tyrant." 

Sarah's chest burned with affection and she swallowed around the lump in her throat. The king's concern for her well-being seemed to be a catalyst for yet another bout of emotional instability and it was then she knew for certain that it wasn't just the copious amount of champagne she'd drank like lemonade last night making her feel so out of character.

Was she perhaps slipping back into the depression she'd managed to pull herself out of? 

Or perhaps it was hormonal, it was hard to keep track of the days but she was pretty sure that mother nature was due a visit anytime soon... 

Abruptly, she remembered her less than gracious stint in the bathroom that morning and the lump in her throat seemed to double in size. She thought back to the occasional pregnancy scares she'd heard girl's at school going through and how they'd thought the nausea, emotional instability and mind-numbing exhaustion all paired with a late period meant they were knocked up. 

It was never the case however, but she recalled the tangible sense of anxiety they'd all felt waiting for those familiar pink lines to show in the test window. The same anxiety she could feel creeping into her chest, making her skin feel flushed and overly hot.

---

Sarah found herself completely distracted, her head in the proverbial clouds as she tried and failed to work out the dates of her last period and where in her cycle she was supposed to be. 

The thought of being pregnant was setting her nerves on edge, not because she didn't want children but rather because she was completely unprepared. That paired with a stomach-churning fear that her overindulgence on alcohol the previous night could have already damaged what had only just started.

"Sarah if you're not going to bother paying attention, I'm not going to waste my time," Jareth's haughty tone snapped her out of her bubble of panic and she felt her cheeks flush, abashed.

"Sorry." 

Jareth sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose when Jodie barged into the ballroom with Jaxon hot on her heels. "I do not have time for your theatrics, child!" The Goblin King snapped. 

"I don't care, you'll listen to what I have to say—" 

"Stop it!" Sarah rubbed her temples. "You can't speak to him like that Jodie. Not only is he a king but he was trying to protect you! Can't you see that?" 

Sarah threw her hands up, exasperated. 

"Sarah it's alright," Jareth said, planting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Tensions are clearly high—"

"No it's not alright!" Sarah shrugged him off. "Jareth didn't mean to imply that you're crazy by any means but God Jodie, look where we came from!" 

"It's not the same!" Jodie argued. "You never belonged there Sarah —I did!" 

"Jodie—"

"No Sarah, you don't understand. You think I don't care or maybe I make it seem that way but I do. I really do fucking care that I'm stuck in hell with no escape. No one wants me. No one's coming to rescue me." 

"But Chase—"

"Was using me. You were right. And yeah I was using him too but it still hurt that it was never real, you know? He never truly thought that I was beautiful or desirable or worth anything more than sex…" 

Jodie stared at her feet, her bottom lip trembling. She lifted her head and Sarah saw the puddle of tears threatening to spill over. 

"I'm sorry I've been an asshole to your future husband. I just… it's the only way I know how to deal with shit when it hurts…" 

"I understand Jodie," Sarah said, feeling herself becoming tearful. 

"Jax makes me feel special… it's like… I look into his eyes and see everything that I've ever wanted. He told me I'm perfect and shit Sarah, I felt it. I've never felt that way before…" 

"You deserve to feel that way Jodie." 

"And so do you, and I'm so glad you've got that here." 

"You could have it too," Jareth interjected unexpectedly.

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean you can stay, here in the Underground if you wish. I can find accommodation in the village. It wouldn't be ideal to have you here at the castle, you'd only rally the Goblins into rioting." 

Sarah snorted —he was right.

"If Jaxon is serious about courting you then it wouldn't be fair to send you away. All I ask is that you visit with a healer once a week and perhaps try and get to the bottom of your… vulnerabilities." 

"Thank you, Goblin King," Jodie sniffed, curling into Jaxons side. 

"Enough maudlin sentiments," Jareth waved his hand in dismissal. "Jaxon will show you to your temporary quarters and we'll find you something more permanent later." 

"Most gracious, your majesty," Jaxon bowed. 

Jodie nodded, pulling Sarah into a fierce embrace. "I'm sorry for being a bitch," she whispered, pulling back to follow Jaxon out of the room. 

Sarah swiped at her leaking eyes and barrelled into Jareth's arms. "You're growing soft Goblin King." 

"I'm going bloody mad more like," he scoffed eliciting a watery giggle. 

"Jareth you do realise that Jodie never received a referral to G.K Rehabilitation Retreat like I did, don't you? She just poof —disappeared…" 

"Gah!" Jareth palmed his forehead. "Bloody hell! If anyone asked for me I'm not bloody here!" He said grumpily and disappeared with a crackling pop. 

"Welp, guess I can take a nap now," she stretched her aching muscles, wearily making her way to her chambers.  

---

Sarah sat crossed-legged in the middle of the bed, anxiously chewing her fingernails as she stared off into space. She palmed her forehead when a nauseating dizzy spell washed over her leaving her skin clammy and her face flushed. 

She'd been sat staring at the opposite wall fighting the urge to puke for the past hour, unable to sleep from the multitude of anxiety-inducing thoughts spinning in her mind. 

Unable to withstand the torture any longer nor the constant lingering sense of worry, Sarah shook off the haze clouding her mind and called for her lady-in-waiting. "Kaylin?" She murmured, incapable of mustering the strength to shout.

"Yes my lady?" Kaylin appeared moments later, her hair dishevelled and the skirt of her dress askew.

"I'm sorry, did I disturb you?" Sarah quirked her brow, powerless to stifle her giggles. 

"Of course not." Kaylin fibbed, smoothing down her skirt. "Is everything OK? You look peaky."

"I feel like I'm about to hurl," Sarah grimaced. "Which is why I called you here... can I ask you something in confidence?"

"Is it about the pregnancy?" She countered and Sarah's jaw dropped incredulously.

"What pregnancy?" 

"Oh... my lady I'm sorry I thought..." She flustered sheepishly.

"You think I'm pregnant?"

"I had a feeling when I saw you this morning. I'm sorry Sarah, I spoke out of turn, I shouldn't have made such an assumption..."

"No." Sarah held her hand up, giving a wave of dismissal. "It's fine, I'm actually glad you did because it's given me a much needed reality check."

"I don't understand." 

"I knew I wasn't just hung-over—" Sarah clarified, "—I knew it was something more but I just didn't know what until it dawned on me that I couldn't figure out when my period was due and well... honestly I'm thinking perhaps your assumption isn't so far-fetched..."

"Oh your majesty." Kaylin fussed, stroking Sarah's hair as she wrapped a dainty arm around her shoulders. "Does his highness know of your predicament?"

"No." Sarah shook her head. "I didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure and that's what I need you to help me with —how does it work down here? How do you test for pregnancy?"

"We go to the healer for blood work and an examination." Her friend explained. "Would you like me to take you?"

"Please," Sarah nodded, her stomach tying itself in one big knot.

---

Sarah knocked on the door to the king's study, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. 

"Enter." The king's incredibly sexy drawl called in response and her stomach fluttered.

She stepped into the room and found the king propped behind his desk, a pile of neatly stacked parchment resting beside the hand that glided over some form of contract. 

"How did it go?" She asked and Jareth raised his head. 

"She no longer exists in the Overground," he said and Sarah swallowed, it was slightly overwhelming to know just how powerful he was. The ability erase someone from existence wasn't like forging a fake contract from a fake facility —this was altering time itself. 

Foregoing his paperwork, Jareth closed the space between them and wrapped her in a deliciously warm embrace. "Are you alright, precious?" He cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand.

Sarah gave a content sigh and nuzzled his palm with a small smile. "Yeah its just… you wiped all memory of her?" 

"Yes, I could have done that with you too but I didn't think it would be something you'd want." 

"Oh… wow…" 

"Don't think too much starlight," he chuckled, drawing her into a succession of soft, lingering kisses and subsequently igniting the sleeping fire of desire deep in her core.

Her day was turning into one big twist and turn. The emotional rollercoaster she was strapped on refused to ease-up on the next bout of emotional whiplash and this time it came in the form of a deliciously familiar heat pooling low in her stomach.

"I missed you," she gaze into those sapphire eyes and felt love radiate from her core, bleeding into bone and marrow to warm her insides like hot cocoa on a cold winters day. 

"I missed you too Sarah-mine."

"Does his majesty care to prove it?" She murmured seductively, guiding him back toward the nearest chair where she lightly pushed on his shoulders. He lowered himself to sit, leaning back against the plush cushions with a quirked brow and a wicked smirk.

"But of course, my queen —you never need to ask," he grinned, beckoning her to him with a teasing curl of his finger. Sarah giggled when he yanked her into his lap and planted her knees either side of him on the chairs arms, his face flush against her navel.

She could feel the heat of his breath bleed through the heavy fabric of her skirt, the pleasurable sensation eliciting a familiar ache between her thighs. A shiver like the sweet caress of her lover's fingers inched down her spine when Jareth slowly pushed the skirt of her dress toward her hips and tore off her knickers in one swift motion. 

A deep growl of want rumbled from the king's chest, his fingers kneading the soft flesh of her rear as he pulled her hips forward, teasing her mound with a lingering, wet kiss.

Sarah's breath hitched. 

She planted her hands on the back of the chair to steady herself and the king slouched in his seat, his mouth ghosting her desire slick folds eliciting a delicious full body shudder. Jareth's mouth covered her aching mound and she cried out with pleasure, her hips bucking forward, desperately seeking the skilful twist of his tongue. 

Her body jerked when his mouth sought her hidden bundle of nerves, caressing the sensitive bud with his practised tongue. A whimpering moan joined the sound of the king's greedy hums of gratification, her fingers moved to tangle in his hair.

Her king branded his name between her thighs, urging her to buck her hips as he devoured her completely. His hunger for her was insatiable, tearing his name from her throat when a burst of liquid fire swam through her veins leaving her panting, breathless and utterly spent. 

Sarah collapsed in his arms, covering his mouth in a feverish kiss, tasting herself. As she slowly came down from her high, she remembered the reason she'd been so keen to seek him out, feeling wholly ncapable of remaining patient until nightfall when they'd retire to their chambers.

"Jareth, there's something I need to tell you," she whispered, her fingers toying with the silver emblem hanging loose over his chest.

"Hmmm... and what would that be precious?" 

"You know I've been a little off today?"

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Jareth feigned ignorance and Sarah playfully swatted his shoulder.

"Be serious," she smiled, pulling back so that she could see his face.

"Sorry starlight, do continue…" he smiled, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Well after a lot of miscalculation, confusion and admittedly denial, I went to the healer and—"

"You went to see Aine? Why? Are you sick?" He panicked, cupping her face in his hands.

"Not exactly." She shook her head, chewing her lip. "I'm pregnant..."

Jareth stiffened beneath her and not in the way that usually preceded an earth-shattering orgasm. His eyes comically widened and he merely stared at her, his mouth agape. 

"Hello, is anyone in there?" She attempted levity, lightly tapping his brow with her knuckles.

"You're pregnant? We're having a baby? Me and you?" He stammered dumbfounded.

"No, me and Jaxon," she joked and Jareth growled, playfully knocking her to the floor before seeming to remember what she'd just told him and bundle her into his arms, his hand resting on her stomach.

"Sorry, I didn't hurt you did I?" 

"I'm pregnant, not made of glass Jareth," she laughed. 

"To me you're the most precious, fragile, breakable, valuable asset and this life growing inside you—" he gently placed his hand against her abdomen, "—means just as much. I can't describe my happiness right now Sarah. I sincerely love you." 

"I love you too, my king," she beamed, her smile fading with a groan. She palmed her forehead.

"What is it Sarah?" 

"I'm gonna look so fat in my wedding dress..." she pouted, evoking a bark of laughter.

"Oh precious, how I adore you," he chuckled, drawing her into a fierce embrace. 

Chapter 15: Infinite Union

Seven and a half months later….

"Ouch!" Sarah jerked, her hand coming up to rub soothing circles into her ribs after a rather vicious kick. 

"The prince seems rather excited this morning, my lady," Kaylin chuckled as she fluffed out Sarah's curls. 

"Must be something in the air," Sarah smiled, observing her lady-in-waiting in the reflection of the mirror as she set her curls in a Dutch princess braid and set a crown of daisies atop her head. 

Kaylin stepped back to admire her work, her lilac eyes twinkling with affection as she appraised the future queen. "You look beautiful, my lady," the pretty fae gushed, clasping her hands over her chest with a look of veneration. 

"I look like a whale." Sarah chewed her bottom lip, her freshly preened brows furrowed in a frown of disapproval.  

Before Kaylin could refute her close friends harsh self-criticisms the door to the chambers burst open. 

"Gooo-ing to the chapel and you're gonna get maa-aaa-a-rid," Jodie sing-songed as she flounced into the bedroom holding a beautifully arranged bouquet of flowers. 

"Woah!" Jodie came to a stop beside Kaylin, appraising Sarah with an arched brow. "Shit Sarah. You look like a queen," she swallowed —awestruck. 

"She looks beautiful, doesn't she? Please assure her that she doesn't look like a whale." Kaylin rolled her eyes in mock exasperation and Sarah's lips twitched. 

"Prettiest whale in the entire ocean," Jodie grinned and Kaylin gasped, swatting her shoulder. 

Jodie giggled, side-stepping away from the scowling fae. "Seriously Sarah, you look gorgeous. You're glowing! The Goblin King's one lucky bastard." 

"I don't know —I feel like I'm the lucky one," she gushed, taking the bouquet of flowers Jodie offered her with a fond smile.

"Barf," Jodie joked and Sarah giggled. 

Her fingers tentatively brushed over luxuriously soft petals. Pretty daisies. Lush crimson roses. Pristine white jasmine. She brought the bouquet to her nose and hreathed in the heady, floral fragrance with a smile. 

Sarah lowered the flowers and glanced at the mirror where her reflection stared back at her with a dreamy smile. She held the bouquet against her bosom, her free hand moving to smooth over her protruding stomach. 

Her wedding dress was truly a credit to the seamstresses —she'd never seen a dress so utterly stunning. Not only did it compliment her pale complexion and the colour of her eyes it flattered her newly voluptuous figure, cinching in her waist without being too tight around her bump.

The dress was made of lavish silk in a crisp shade of ivory with a Scottish widow hood of the same colour. The front of the dress and hood was laced in a beautiful wedding brocade while the lower sleeves were ivory chiffon trimmed with gold. The gold trim of the cuffs sporting the same wedding brocade and the back of the dress had a small train that swept the floor behind her. 

"Sarah?" Jodie's voice brought her out of her silent contemplation. 

"Hmm?" She hummed, turning to face the two people that were much more to her than merely a member of her staff and a confidante. Her hand smoothed circles across her bump as her son wriggled and kicked gayly in his temporary abode. 

"It's time baby mama," she smiled and the all too familiar fluttering of dancing butterflies bloomed beneath her sternum. 

A lump of emotion bubbled up from her chest to settle in the back of her throat as she watched Kaylin move toward her with a watery smile. She dipped to carefully lift the train of her dress, gesturing to Jodie with a nod. 

"Ready to go, your majesty?" Jodie tilted her head, regarding her with almond eyes glittering with unspoken emotion. 

"Ready," she nodded, smiling when Jodie tucked her hand into the crook of her elbow. 

She was ready to declare her love for the Goblin King publicly. She was ready to vow to love and cherish. 

She was ready to be his wife… 

---

Jareth scrutinised his appearance in the mirror. His tailor had customised his outfit to compliment Sarah's gown, making the king weary with seemingly endless fittings and alterations —he could only hope that it had been worth it. 

His outfit consisted of a doublet in ivory twill with panels of matching wedding brocade at both the front and rear. The collar stood high, brushing the nape of his neck. The doublet came with epaulettes and peplumes within the brocade that were edged with gold, the front closing with gold closures in the shape of his Kingdom's emblem. His pants were three-quarter, ivory silk, high-waisted with gold drawstrings at the waist and cuffs which rested at his knees. 

Jareth exhaled a nerve-steadying breath, scooping up the black velvet ring box resting on the pillow that held his mother's wedding band. He closed his fist around the box, his eyes fluttering closed as a wave of emotion hit him in one big flood. 

"Are you OK, your majesty?"  

"I wish they were here Jaxon…" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wish my father was here to give me advice on how to be a good husband and a good father…" 

The king turned to face the man he sincerely loved as a brother despite them not sharing the same blood. Jaxon had been the one constant in his life for as long as he could remember and though they didn't always see eye-to-eye and there was always that element of superiority on Jareth's behalf. There was little doubt that the man had truly become family.

"What if I fail Jaxon?" 

Jaxon planted his hands firm on Jareth's shoulders, his soulful seaweed eyes flickering with sincerity, a small smile on his face. "There's no way that you could fail, your majesty.

You're going to be great husband. We all see how much you adore Sarah —even a fool can see you worship the ground she walks on. As for your abilities as a father, unfortunately parenthood doesn't come with instructions and you'll figure it out as you go along. However, judging by who you are as a ruler and a friend and. I'd say that those children are extremely lucky to have a father like you." 

Jareth exhaled, his shoulders sagging beneath the weight of the emotion making his chest ache. "Most gracious, Jaxon," he smiled. 

"Come now your majesty, your wife is waiting for you," Jaxon grinned and Jareth's heart swelled with love and pride. 

His wife —finally.

---

The king surveyed the orchard with a triumphant smile —it was perfect. 

Fragrant wisteria hung from every available tree branch, blanketing the guest seating and the aisle itself in a shroud of pastel purple, lilac and ivory. 

Neat rows of oak benches sat either side of a make-shift aisle scattered with fallen wisteria petals that created a natural carpet atop the grass. The frames of the benches were laced with brilliant white fairy lights while pastel winged butterflies danced and flittered overhead. 

Jareth stood beneath an arch composed of daisies, jasmine and lush crimson roses, the flowers threaded between more brilliant white fairy lights. 

An orchestral band stood to the left, their polished instruments ready to play his queen down the aisle. The wedding officiant stood front and centre, his ethereal silver eyes observing the crowd of royals and staff alike that began to take their seats. 

Jareth's eyes roamed the sea of guests, landing on the cluster of creatures that looked incredibly out of place. Hogwart, or Hoggle or whatever his bloody name was sat dabbing at his eyes and the end of his bulbous nose, no doubt regaling Sir Didymus and his noble stead with tales of Sarah's triumph over the Labyrinth for the hundredth time. Ludo, the misunderstood ball of fur sat marvelling at the wisteria with a serene smile of his dumb face. 

He hoped he pleased Sarah by inviting the motley trio, personally then only one he liked was Ludo and that was only because he rarely spoke and he was so naive it was charming. 

The orchestra began to play a soft melody and Jareth's stomach lurched with a last minute bout of nerves. Jaxon patted his shoulder in a gesture of assurance which Jareth acknowledged with a grateful smile and a shaky exhale. 

Guests rose to their feet and Jareth's eyes drifted to the gap in the floral canopy and his breath caught in the back of his throat. He swallowed thickly as a familiar warm ache bloomed from beneath his sternum to rest in his chest. 

His heart pounded rapid fire. He couldn't take his eyes off of the woman that had stolen his heart almost four torturously long years ago with her brazen attitude and big, emerald eyes. The very same eyes that stared back at him with adoration and sincere reverence.

"Wow, you are very lucky, your highness." Jaxon exhaled, his voice low. 

Jareth grinned, his cheeks stretched and strained so much with the force of his smile that the action left behind a lingering ache. 

Jodie guided Sarah to where he stood at the head of the aisle, chastely kissing her cheek with a smile before doubling back to take her seat beside Ludo on the front bench. Kaylin graciously took Sarah's bouquet before taking her place just off to the side, her lilac eyes already brimming with emotion. 

"I have no words to describe just how beautiful you look, Sarah," Jareth whispered. 

"Me neither," she swallowed, her eyes misty with tears of adulation. 

The guests all took their seats and the officiant stepped forward, his silver eyes regarding the guests warmly. His face glowing with a delight only found on those truly happy with their lot in life. 

"I would like to welcome you all. Royals, family, staff and friends." 

He greeted the crowd with a genteel bow.  

"We are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the marriage of Jareth, The Goblin King and Sarah, his future queen

This is not the beginning of a new relationship but an acknowledgement of a new chapter in their lives together." 

Jareth reached for Sarah's hand and squeezed. Her face lit up in a beaming smile, her mesmerising emerald eyes dancing with the glow of the mid-morning sun. 

"Though the king and his queen may not have spent many years getting to know one another. We are still here to bear witness to what their relationship has become in spite of the fact. Today, they will affirm this soul bond formally and publicly.

The king and his queen will mark their transition as a couple not only by celebrating the love between themselves, but also by celebrating the love between all of us here today.

Before we begin the declaration of intent. I have been asked by the queen to read a poem which she has written in dedication to the king. A poem which she would like to share with us all." 

Jareth noted the way Sarah's eyes softened and the slight exhilaration of her heart. He swallowed, transfixed by her beauty. The pad of his thumb traced circles into the palm of her hand as he listened to the words of reverence his darling Sarah had wished to share. 

From eyes that sparkle like crystals in the sun. 

Darkening to the inky, indigo of the midnight ocean when our souls become one. 

From a smile that shines like a beacon in the dark. 

Accelerating the steady drum of my heart. 

From laughter that sparks joy deep in the marrow of my bones. 

From an embrace so fierce it assures me I'll never be alone. 

From a love and mercy that separates monsters from men. 

I know in you I found not only the missing part of my soul. But I found my best friend…

Jareth cleared his throat, swallowing the clump of emotion that lodged there. His chest felt so full of love that he feared he'd simply combust under the pressure. Unable to articulate just how touched he was by her words. He merely squeezed her hand, his mouth curved in a smile so wide he feared his face would crack. 

"After such heart-warming words, I feel it apt to move on to the declaration of intent." The officiant continued and misty blue eyes met watery emerald. 

"Do you Jareth Tyton, Goblin King take Sarah Williams, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and not so good times, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto her for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Jareth croaked with a soft smile. 

"Do you, Sarah Williams, take Jareth Tyton, Goblin King to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and not so good times, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," she whispered with a watery smile. 

The king exhaled a shaky breath and the officiant continued.  

"A ring is an unbroken circle, a circle with ends joined together that represents your union. It is a symbol of infinity, and of your infinite love. When you gaze upon these rings on your fingers let you be reminded of this moment, your commitment, and the love you now feel for each other."

"Your majesty, if you would place the ring on Sarah's finger and repeat after me…"

Jareth released Sarah's hands and turned to his advisor. Jaxon smiled as he cautiously opened the lid on the ring box to present Jareth with his mother's wedding band that he would now pass on to his own wife. 

"Sarah, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love with the pledge to love you today, tomorrow, always, and forever," the king repeated, his voice breaking slightly from the build up of emotion that bubbled up from his chest. 

"And now… Sarah, please place the ring on the king's finger and repeat after me…"

Jareth watched with bated breath as Sarah turned to Kaylin who held a familiar ring box similar to the one that had contained his mother's ring. The king's chest tightened and a flood of affection washed over him in one great wave when the ring box was prised open and his eyes landed a familiar band a little thicker than the one now nestled on Sarah's ring finger. 

His father's ring.

Jareth's heart became stuck in his throat as he listened to the woman he loved more than any other pledge her love for him. 

"My king, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love with the pledge to love you today, tomorrow, always, and forever," she beamed up at him as she slipped the ring onto his finger. 

"Before these witnesses, you have pledged to be joined in marriage. You have now sealed this pledge with the exchange of rings. Thus, by the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you by husband and wife." 

A raucous cheer erupted from behind him as he gently drew Sarah into his arms and into a succession of soft, lingering kisses. He pulled back, resting his forehead against his wife's brow, his hands braced either side of her swollen stomach. 

"I love you Sarah," he whispered as the joyous commotion continued to ring in the air around them. 

"I love you too," she exhaled, giggling when he peppered her face in playful, amorous kisses. 

---

The door softly clicked back into place behind him and Jareth inhaled deeply, breathing in Sarah's scent like it was the only thing keeping him alive. 

Sarah had retired from the celebrations early. He knew the late stages of pregnancy were taking its toll on her body and she was quick to tire. He found himself becoming overprotective, adamant that she takes regular naps throughout the day and retired to bed whenever she found herself weary. 

Jareth silently moved into the bedroom to find her beautiful face set in a pained frown while her hand lay against her sternum, as if even in her sleep she was experiencing discomfort. It was hard knowing that she was suffering during the last stages of her pregnancy and there wasn't much that he could do. 

His son —his own flesh and blood was growing inside her. The thought alone was mind-blowing but to see it with his own eyes was something indescribable. In two quick, silent strides he was beside the bed, his eyes trained on the swell of Sarah's stomach that had been left uncovered when the sheets had fallen to rest at her hips as she'd stirred. 

With an innate caution, he gently placed the palm of his hand against her swollen stomach and even now, after so many months he found himself surprised by how hard it felt when he was so used to feeling soft, flesh beneath his fingertips. 

He smiled wide, a flood of warmth blossoming in his chest when he felt his son swiftly kick the palm of his hand and even in the dark he could see the not so subtle flutter beneath Sarah's night dress as his child squirmed.

The king's gaze roamed from his wife's swollen stomach to her beautiful face. He reached out to brush the backs of his knuckles across her warm, petal soft cheek. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and after a moment of confusion she fixed him with a sleepy yet nonetheless beautiful smile. 

“Is the party over already?” Her drowsy emerald eyes twinkled in the dark.

"No precious, the party is very much still in full force," he chuckled. 

"Then why are you here? You should be with your friends doing what fae do best —partying." 

Jareth huffed a laugh and cupped her face in the palm of his hand. He stooped low, his mouth meeting hers in a kiss that he hoped portrayed all the words that he wasn't sure he could articulate adequately. “I missed you,” he whispered against her mouth as she rested her forehead against his brow.

“I missed you too.” 

After a moment of merely holding her in his arms, he pulled back and kissed her forehead. “I still can't get over how much you've changed, precious —pregnancy is truly a phenomenal thing,” he uttered as his gaze was once again drawn to her middle while his hands came to rest on either side of her ribs to rub soothing circles there. 

“I know —I'm a total cow.”

Jareth quietly chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Not at all starlight, you're still the most beautiful creature I've ever had the fortune to gaze upon.”

“What a crock of sh—"

Jareth pressed his finger against her lips, muting the argument she had ready and waiting as he stood staring down into the eyes he found utterly captivating. A surge of want coursed through him in an all-consuming wave of electricity and te air around them grew thick and heavy like the air before a summer storm. 

“Unlike your argument which has no tangible proof, might I add —I can show you that I mean every word. You're beautiful my wife,” he breathed, ghosting kisses to the underside of her jaw.

Sarah exhaled in satisfaction, reaching out to comb her fingers through his hair. A shiver raced down his spine when the tips of her fingers affectionately grazed his scalp and he nudged her mouth, hungry for the taste of her —hungry for the wet heat of her tongue in his mouth. 

As the kiss deepened, he slowly felt himself start to unravel. The feelings, desires and emotions that had been simmering all day bubbled to the surface and a rumbling groan ripped from his chest. 

His hands explored Sarah's body, already accustomed to the changes that really didn't matter like he knew she feared they did. His thumbs found the pebbled buds straining against her nightshirt and gently grazed in slow, teasing circles. 

Sarah's breath hitched and he heard the pounding of her healthy heart accelerate in response to his touch. He trailed hot, wet kisses down the length of her neck, frowning when he noticed her nightshirt felt damp to the touch.

Jareth pulled back, his gaze dropping to Sarah's chest to find the silk material wet. “Oh, that keeps happening...” she murmured shyly.

Jareth sat back on his heels, the desire that had moments ago burnt like the fire of a thousand suns slowly started to fade until it was replaced by concern and a disconcerting flicker of guilt. 

He shouldn't be stuck on the expectation that the heat between them would be the same as it always was —he had to take into consideration that she was heavily pregnant. Her leaking breasts served as a reminder that he needed to snap out of his lust and acknowledge that he could hurt her and possibly his child if he were to lose control. 

He couldn't risk hurting her. He had to think with his head and not the twitching appendage between his legs. 

“What's wrong?” She whispered, anxiously chewing on her lip.

“I'm being selfish, precious. I shouldn't keep assuming that it's OK for me to touch you like that. I don't want to hurt you or the baby. Additionally, I know you're weary. I'm sorry Sarah,” he frowned, moving to position himself beside her.

“You won't hurt me or the baby Jareth —I trust you. I want you to touch me…” Sarah shook her head, shuffling to face him.

“No precious, I won't take that risk anymore. I can be patient. I can wait until I know I won't hurt you.” He rested back against the pillows with a sigh. Just being able to hold her in his arms and breathe in her intoxicating scent was enough. 

“As much as I commend you on your ability to be patient, your majesty —I can't.” She pouted. “I have that many hormones at war inside me right now that all I've been able to think about all day is your hands on me and if you won't take the risk then I'll do it for you,” she stated resolutely as she —with slight difficulty— straddled his lap.

“Sarah—” he started to protest only to be cut off with a hard kiss.

“Stop talking," she said simply as her hand palmed his crotch and her mouth found the underside of his jaw.

Jareth could only watch with fire burning in his eyes as his wife slowly worked her nightdress over her head, leaving her full, buxom breasts and her swollen stomach on display. 

He observed hungrily as she fought with the drawstrings on his pants, yanking down the silken material enough to expose his throbbing cock. A low groan tumbled from his lips when she rolled her hips and her hot, wet heat rubbed against his sensitive tip. His moans of pleasure muted by her hard, hungry kiss.

Emboldened by Sarah's obvious need, Jareth reached out to cup her breasts. He gently kneaded the soft flesh and rolled her peaked buds between his fingers, unfazed by the sticky liquid that made the tips of his fingers damp. 

“Jareth…” she breathed against his ear, setting every nerve in his body on fire.

He swallowed thickly, caught between complete arousal and anxiety about hurting either Sarah or his son. Watching with a lidded gaze as she timidly raised her hips before lowering herself onto him, his cock sank into her blissfully hot, wet heat and he was unable to silence his vocalisations of satisfaction. His hands dropped from her breasts to the soft, padded flesh of her hips and squeezed lightly, gently raising his hips to hit the spot he knew made her see stars.

Sarah whimpered and braced her hands on his shoulders as she continued to slowly roll her hips. A thin sheen of perspiration broke on her brow and he rounded one hand to the dip of her lower back and gently pushed her toward him to cover her breast with his mouth. A strangled cry fell from Sarah's lips, her jaw hanging loose in a silent 'oh'.

Jareth gently suckled, evoking a breathless gasp as a trickle of sweet, sticky liquid leaked from her stiff bud. When she started to tremble and her movements became disjointed, he knew that she was close to her peak. 

He knew he too wasn't far behind either.

With his mouth still gently sucking her breast, Jareth cautiously thrust his hips and the slow, purposeful rhythmic motion sent her over the edge. He followed her moments later when her walls hugged snug around his pulsing cock, milking him of his seed.

“I love you Jareth,” Sarah panted, her sweat-dampened hair brushing against his cheek as she lay her head on his shoulder.

“I love you too, my wife….” he whispered, drawing her against his chest.