A/N: I want to thank everyone who has given reviews and marked my stories as favorites, that is after all, why I write fanfic! I hope you continue to enjoy my stories. ~Kat~
DISCLAIMER: THE ONLY THING I CLAIM TO OWN IS THE INSANE IDEA THAT FORMED THIS STORY, EVERYTHING ELSE IS BORROWED.
Sarah plopped on her bed and snuggled with her over-sized pillow. She hated feeling like this. The urge to cry lurked behind her eyes, her heart felt like it was being ripped out one piece at a time, and she had no idea why.
Especially when she'd been in a good mood only a few minutes before hand.
At first she had thought it was just hormones, that time of month, but then she felt like this when that little curse was far from sight. So, she figured it was just feeling lonely and left out, but then she'd end up crying herself to sleep even after enjoying a party and having boys flirt with her.
Then she started dating Barry Wilson, and him braking up with her hadn't hurt half as much as these unexplained feelings she suffered at random. It was very confusing.
With a tired sigh, she rolled onto her stomach, hugging the pillow under her, and sniffled though she had no tears. She propped herself up on her elbows, her feet swung in the air behind her butt, adorned with purple fuzzy socks. Wearing a long t-shirt and girl boxers, she looked at her reflection in her mirror, though wasn't interested in her own appearance at the moment.
The dwarf heard her summons and twitched.
Jareth caught the motion from the corner of his eye and turned to look at him irritably. He'd already argued with him about taking the baby to the chosen family for care and wasn't in the mood for any more shenanigans.
"Would you rather have bridge duty in the bog?" he asked gruffly, getting tired of the dwarf rebutting him on everything these days, though he was one of the few who dared contradict him and at times it was refreshing. This, however, was not one of those times.
"No, yer majesty. I was just shooing these flies is all."
The dwarf pretended to swat at annoying, if not invisible, flies.
The king scoffed but accepted the reply. He really wasn't in the mood to argue. Without another word, Jareth vanished.
Hoggle let out the breath he'd been holding in.
'Damn, she's got bad timing!' He thought of Sarah.
He cradled the year old baby in his chubby arms and sauntered into the goblin city to deliver it to the next family on the list who wanted a baby.
This was, by far, not the first time that Sarah had called to him within minutes after Jareth sent home another loser.
If Hoggle didn't know any better he'd swear that Sarah felt the king's disappointment at not having anyone get even close to winning like she had.
And the king's disappointment wasn't the only problem, either. He was desperate for companionship, female companionship, and not just a tumble in the sack kind either.
He was lonely, even if the rat wouldn't admit it, Hoggle knew it, and so did most of the goblin population.
He wanted a queen by his side and would take the first female who said yes. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, they've all turned him down flat, sometimes violently.
It almost made Hoggle feel sorry for the Fae. Okay, maybe a little more than almost, but he didn't want to admit to that.
Hoggle wasn't even going to think about the times when Jareth simply asked one question of the wisher and when the female answered no right off the bat, he simply sent her back home right then and there, keeping the wished away child.
Then he'd be as unbearable as a troll with a burr up its butt for days to follow.
"I'm coming," he replied in his gruff tone.
He kicked at a wobbly door and grimaced at the curious round faces that appeared from the other side when it opened.
"Here, the king has been generous today. Treat the baby kindly and loves it like your own."
He gently handled the infant over to the now beaming faces and loving arms and sauntered off.
'Same speech every time.' He grumbled in his head. 'Likes they would be mean to a baby,' he scoffed.
Taking a short cut, he quickly reached his own humble abode and closed his door. Seconds later he appeared in Sarah's mirror, still feeling grimy after trying to help the last wisher through the oubliette.
"Whats is it this time?" he asked grumpily.
Her constant calling him was starting to interfere with his work, and Jareth had almost caught him more than once.
The king was very touchy when it came to Sarah.
'As long as she refuses me, then she's not to be visited by you either!' Jareth had warned Hoggle after the first time he got caught talking to her through a portal mirror.
"Nice to see you too." Sarah sniffled again, but was used to her friend being curt.
She knew he cared or he wouldn't keep answering her calls. He was the only one she had to talk to at times like this, and he somehow always made her feel better.
"Wells, I'm busy." He replied, though his tone wasn't as gruff. "An I still gots to get cleaned up from… gardening."
"Oh. Well I'm sorry I bothered you then."
She rolled onto her back, hugging the pillow to her chest.
'Every single time.' Hoggle thought, shaking his bulbous head sadly.
His previous suspicion taped him on his mind and he found himself thinking about it seriously for the first time in two years.
"Sarah? I'ms sorry. I'm not mad at you. Its just that Jareth gets me so mad sometimes, you knows that."
She rolled back onto her stomach. "How is… Jareth, anyway?" she asked nonchalantly, since Hoggle mentioned him first.
Hoggle could tell that she was trying to hide her curiosity, that she really wanted to know about his king's well being.
"He's a rat, same as always!" Hoggle waved off- handedly, then looked at her with a more contemplative expression when she didn't laugh like she used to at that remark.
"Do… do you… thinks about him, Sarah?"
He saw the look of sadness in her eyes, of longing with a hint of regret. Then it was gone and she smiled nostalgically.
"I think of everything in the labyrinth, Hoggle. My friends, the trails, the gardens, even the Fierys," she chuckled.
"And the king, too?" he suggested, scratching himself, not caring if she saw it or not.
"Sometimes more than other times, yes." She rested her chin on the end of her bunched up pillow squished under her.
The sadness came to her eyes again.
"What would you say if I tolds you that… uhm… maybe… maybe you could visit us?"
The pure joy that lit her emerald eyes made Hoggle's heart skip a beat. But then she sighed and smiled wistfully.
"He'd never let me back in the labyrinth, Hoggle. Not without some kind of retribution."
She held Hoggle's gaze for a moment then dropped her eyes to the blanket she'd been idly picking at.
"He just hates me too much."
Hoggle smack himself in the forehead as the obvious hit him like a brick. 'He' was on this side feeling lonely and cross at being rejected, and 'she' was on that side feeling the same way!
"Sarah?" he leaned closer to the mirror, his voice very soft and whispered, his expression very sincere. "Do… do you 'likes' Jareth… in any way?"
The flush of her cheeks was more of an answer than words could ever speak.
"I wish I could see him, at least one last time," she whispered wistfully.
Hoggle slapped his forehead and started ranting. "Are you out of your mind? He'll here you, you keeps talking like that!"
"Or… he already has." The familiar voice said from behind Sarah on the other side of her bed.
Jareth has been privy to their conversation the second Sarah had spoken his name.
Hoggle's face turned into a mask of complete fear. His eyes grew so wide they looked like they would pop out.
Sarah tensed and squeezed her pillow tighter. She watched as Hoggle tried to come to terms of getting caught, not quite brave enough to turn around to face the king herself.
"Conspiring against me again, Hoggle?" His voice carried through the room authoritively, his tone barely more than a growl. "Making promises you can't keep?"
"N… n… no, your… your majesty. Of course not! We's was just… I means, Sarah there was just…"
With a bored wave of Jareth's hand Hoggle was gone from the mirror, leaving Sarah to stare at Jareth's full reflection.
She swallowed hard and slowly rolled to her side, keeping the pillow in front of her, as she faced Jareth for the first time in two years.
"Well?" he demanded, spreading his arms wide theatrically. "How do you like what you see?"
He was larger than life. His presence filled her small room to full capacity. His purple tail coat hung open, his black boots were shiny and well kept, his gray breeches were… sinful to say the least.
Sarah let her eyes slide closed with a sharp intake of breath, not getting past narrowed hips in her appraisal.
Odd how she hadn't noticed 'that' at all the last time, which had her visibly shaking her head.
'How the hell could I NOT notice THAT?'
She wet her suddenly dry lips and begrudgingly reopened her eyes, making sure her focus was above the waistline this time.
He stood with hands on hips, his cream shirt and blue vest completed his attire. His medallion hung in the center of his open shirt against his chest.
His shoulders were broader than she remembered, or it could just be his coat, she wasn't sure. But his hair was the same, wild and in disarray. His facial features seemed sharper, his lips drawn tight, his cheeks seemed more hallow making his bone structure all the more chiseled in appearance.
His fair skin bore some lines around his mouth that she hadn't noticed last time, his straight nose lead to elegantly arched brows, and his eyes… his powerful mismatched eyes bore into hers like blue ice.
Her breath caught in her throat, liquid heat coursed through her veins, bringing a flush to her face that she knew he noticed.
How could she not have remembered how striking he was. How tantalizing, charismatic, … gorgeous.
"Consider your wish fulfilled," he ground out at her.
She jumped from the bed, pillow forgotten, in an attempt to keep him from leaving.
"Please," she whispered, her eyes taking him in fully.
He slowly regarded her lack of dress with a slight curl of his lips. She trembled before him, her breathes came unevenly, her skin flushed delicately as she appraised him with eyes that weren't quite as innocent as they had been when last they had met.
"It's good that you put my appearance to memory," he stated unmoving. "Because I will not return again."
He pointed at her briefly with a sweeping gesture of his hand, his coat billowed around him as he turned away from her in a blur of fabric and hair.
'No!' she thought, seeing him ready to disappear from her forever.
She had no idea what she was doing as she lurched herself forward and grabbed his arm with both hands.
Feeling subtle muscle in her grasp, she squeezed her eyes shut tight, and held onto him with her forehead pressed against his shoulder.
Having no idea what to expect, she remained rigid by his side for probably a full minute before daring to open her eyes again.
She panted heavily by his side, not realizing she had been holding her breath as tightly as his arm.
She instantly recognized her own room and slowly forced herself to raise her eyes to his face.
"Oh, Sarah," he breathed in a patronizing tone. "I could translate that little stunt to mean so many things, it would really make your head spin."
With ragged breaths she slowly let her eyes travel from his piercing gaze to his firm mouth, down his neck, along his shoulder, and finally to stare unfocused on her own hands still grasping his bicep.
Her mind screamed for her to let go, but her hands wouldn't comply. Her fingers clenched their prize even tighter, turning her knuckles white.
Jareth narrowed his eyes at her, peering down his nose as she struggled to compose herself. Her fear was so great he could taste it, yet she refused to release her hold on him.
Her breathing became even more labored, her face flushed darker, her trembling intensified. But her fingers refused to obey her screaming mind to let go.
He arched an elegant brow in wonder at the conflict she was subjecting herself to, especially when he had done nothing at all.
He was fascinated by her all over again. Her stubborn determination, despite all else, to achieve her inner goal.
He slightly tilted his head to view her face better as he wondered what exactly she was fighting for.
Surely not him. Yet, what else was there?
Her fingers were numb as they squeezed tighter and tighter, her body shook with some need she didn't understand.
She had no idea what she was doing. It was like her hands had a mind of their own all of a sudden and wouldn't let him go!
She was panicking, her mind refused to work, all she could think of was 'no' at his leaving.
She began to feel dizzy. Hyperventilating.
It was her own fault, her own doing.
Then, somewhere in her mind, she realized that he simply stood there, unmoving, letting her seize him like some coveted trophy.
But it didn't matter as her vision swam. She was making herself pass out, and he simply waited for her to do just that so he could be free of her.
A choked sob escaped her throat. A silent tear ran down her cheek.
Then her room capsized as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
With a graceful sweep of his arm he easily caught her as she sagged towards the floor. His other arm swooped under her knees to cradle her bodily against his chest.
Her head lolled backwards, exposing her beautiful neck and some cleavage at the pointed neckline of her shirt. Bouncing her a little, her head rolled to rest on his shoulder.
His heart beat faster than he was comfortable with. Just holding her in his arms brought out a possessiveness in him that he hadn't felt before. His stomach felt like an empty pit with stones weighing it down.
Glancing at the bed, he knew he should simply put her down and go home. But he found himself simply staring at the small fixture, his arms tightened under and around her to hold her closer.
He looked down at her appraisingly.
Her skin was so smooth, he wondered if it would feel as soft as it looked. He wondered if her lips would taste as sweet as they were inviting. His gaze trailed hotly down her body. Her breasts tempted him to touch, to taste. His hands burned to caress her flat stomach, rove her hips and down her thighs.
His heart pumped faster, his body betrayed his thoughts, his breathing wasn't as even as it should be.
He looked back to her face and wondered if this is what she was fighting, this indiscernible desire to touch, have, and possess.
He understood all too well what the desires were that coursed through his veins, but Sarah had not. She panicked herself to the point of unconsciousness, only releasing her iron grip on his arm after passing out.
With his mind made up, he returned home with Sarah held possessively in his arms.
Sarah was aware of becoming aware and had no idea what that meant. She felt like she was waking from a dream, yet at the same time, felt she was still dreaming.
With her mind in numb confusion she slowly opened her eyes to a bright sunlit room with tapestries and stone walls.
'Cool, a castle. I haven't dreamed of a castle since…'
An arm possessively reaffirmed its place around her shoulders, bringing her attention to the male form she was sleeping against.
She raised her head from the muscled chest and stared at the bared skin that showed between the open neckline of a white shirt with puffy sleeves and lace trimmings.
Deciding to let her eyes travel downward first, she noted the gray breeches, though half of her own body covered at least half of his, she just knew that moving her leg would not be a good idea.
She was starting to recognize the shirt, and the breeches; but there was no belt, no boots, no vest.
She allowed her eyes to roam upward.
And no medallion.
The array of blonde hair that poured over her as much as it went anywhere was a definite clue, and yet her mind still refused to make sense of anything. It simply accepted that she was in a castle with a man and everything was just peachy.
She lifted her gaze to his face and was neither surprised nor uneasy. In fact, she smiled secretly at him still being asleep.
But there was something that nagged at her, something that wasn't right.
Lowering her eyes back to his chest, she delicately touched where the medallion usually rested. He looked odd without it, even more odd without his boots and vest, and odder still with his eyes closed.
Her hand moved of its own accord and touched his lips in a feathered caress.
He jerked slightly at her touch and she pulled her hand back as though she'd done something wrong.
With a deep sigh she rested her head back on his chest and closed her eyes to see where this dream led her.
He was convinced beyond a doubt that magic was afoot, and it wasn't his. There was no power within him that would've been able to keep her calm and serene at finding herself in his arms, in his bed, in his castle, in his kingdom.
And yet that was exactly what just happened.
She'd touched him with such gentle wonder that it took all he possessed to remain impassive. Her fingertips on his lips was almost his undoing, and even then she simply removed her hand.
She sighed deeply and snaked her am around his waist, slipping her hand under his loose shirt.
His heart pounded as her fingers feathered lazily up and down his side, seemingly relishing the feel of his skin.
Curious to see where this could lead, he slid his arm from her shoulders and let his hand glide down her back.
His heart thumped in his chest when she arched her back, pushing her hips into his side. Her intake of breath was too much.
This wasn't right. This wasn't right at all.
And yet it was perfect the way she ran her hand up his side, over his chest and around his neck. She tilted her face up towards his.
He opened his eyes to peer down at her and hissed at the longing he saw in her green gaze.
Wordlessly he cupped the side of her face as he rolled his body to his side.
She focused on his lips and her eyes went half mast, her lips parted as he bent over her to gently touch those lips with his own.
Her hand went up his back, she shifted under him, pushing herself into his arousal, and moaned in pleasure as he deepened the kiss.
She took a fistful of hair and pulled him to her, exploring his mouth with an urgent innocence that sent him reeling.
This wasn't right.
He slipped his hand under her shirt and cupped a breast, teasing and taunting until she gasped and thrust her chest into his palm.
Her kisses became more demanding, more confident, and he let her lead his mouth down to her neck.
Her head pushed back into the pillow, her hands slid over his skin, touching and feeling him freely.
She slipped her hand between his waistband and skin, grabbing a rear cheek and pushing herself upwards to grind into him.
He heard so much within his name.
Her want, her desire, her need, her plea.
He took hold of her girly shorts while he teased the skin at her throat, having love play with her skin, ears, and lips.
She pushed at his breeches with frustration.
"Be my first."
Her words didn't have the impact they should have, he simply groaned in response to her request.
Unbuttoning his pants with one hand, she impatiently pushed them passed his backside and down his thighs.
"If I'm your first. I'm your last. I don't share."
She took hold of him with her hand and his world shattered for a second time by her will.
"Yes." She breathed in acceptance, and guided him between her thighs. "Please."
Oh, this was so wrong.
She wouldn't have asked him to stop if her life depended on it. She didn't care that she would be his forever, literally. If he made her feel like this every time he touched her, then suffering in his world would be worth it.
He hesitated and she moaned in displeasure.
She knew he could show her what she wanted to know. He could teach her how to please him. She felt the heat deep within her awakening to his masterful attentions as he fulfilled her pleas.
She cried out at the sudden sharp pain, digging her nails into his back. Somehow she hadn't expected that to hurt.
It was only a dream after all… wasn't it?
He moved within her and her mind slipped into an exotic fog.
She kissed, licked, and bit at every inch of his skin that she could reach with her mouth, her hands grabbed and caressed him with wild abandon.
His own lips and hands were far from idle as he returned tantalizing caresses of his own. He could feel the static of magic surrounding them like a shroud, knowing it wasn't his, but far from caring.
She was under him, wanting him, surrounding him completely and he reveled in ecstasy.
The sun seemed to seek them out specifically and shine into their faces on purpose. With growls and moans at being awoken they both turned their heads away from the dawning light.
Jareth rolled to his side, or attempted to until he found her body was preventing that movement.
He opened his eyes to stare pointedly down at her with wide eyes.
Feeling another body move on the bed, pushing against her irritably, she removed her leg from over his and rolled to her back.
With the sun now being blocked from her eyes she opened them to find herself staring into his uneasy mismatched stare.
Neither one of them knew what to do, say, or how to react as they simply stared at each other.
Jareth forced himself to breath at least, realizing after a moment he had been holding it, waiting for her to react first.
Sarah blinked and rolled her eyes closed, her hand reaching for her forehead to brush back her hair from her face, collecting some of his in the process.
He risked a glanced around his chambers, otherwise unmoving, and discerned that they were truly in his castle.
"I'm at a loss as to what to say."
Sarah choked on a laugh as she opened her eyes again to look up at him.
"Mark one to Sarah Williams for rendering the goblin king speechless."
He half glowered at her for making fun of him. "I wouldn't be so sure of yourself if you think for one moment that last night was simply lucid dreaming, for I can assure you that it was not."
"It seemed like a dream though didn't it?" she asked languidly, her hand lazily brushing some of his hair back over his bare shoulder.
He tilted his head back slightly, not to avoid her touch, but to study her more intently. She was too calm and … accepting.
"This isn't the reaction I would have expected from you."
She shrugged and sighed deeply, almost contentedly. Her eyes drifted to some point above his head as she twirled his hair idly around a finger.
"You fulfilled my wish."
He fixed her with a wary expression.
She lowered her gaze to his and smirked.
"I was much more specific with what I wished for this time."
Her heart skipped a beat when his eyes hardened. She pulled her hand away to rest on her stomach. For some reason, him getting angry hadn't dawned on her.
"Today's my birthday, Jareth," she explained. "Or was that the day before?" she asked more to herself with a thoughtful frown. Waving it off as unimportant she continued.
"Anyway, we sang the song and had cake after dinner, and I made a wish to want you as much as you want me as I blew out all eighteen candles."
His eyes lit with dawning, then clouded in indignation.
"That is not the wish I fulfilled."
"It had to be," she remarked, meeting his eyes directly. "Because as soon as you made to leave, I thought of nothing but holding onto you. And you must have felt it too for you to bring me back with you."
He had felt magic afoot, but it hadn't felt like his own. Though, if she made such a wish, a birthday wish at that, it would explain her death grip on his arm, as well as his lack of caring that something hadn't been right.
"I meant what I said, Sarah." He reminded her in a deep possessive tone. "I'm your first. I'm your last. I don't share."
"Have you forgotten what I'm capable of to keep what's mine?" she asked in her own possessive tone, her eyes hardening with determination. "I don't plan to share either, for your information."
He smirked down at her with mischief in his eyes. His hand reached up to caress the side of her face then snake his fingers in her hair.
"No more than you have forgotten how to turn my world upside down with your sharp tongue and cruel eyes."
"Then we're evenly matched?"
"Not quite," he scoffed lightly. "But perhaps one day… if you keep wishing, you'll catch up."