Replayed and Rewritten


Author's Note:

There be smut ahead, my friends. Proceed with caution. That is all.

Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from the Labyrinth. I just like to play there.


She was like an angel.

Humming softly, she wove through the trees, long dark hair trailing after her and a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Her shoulders and arms were bared to the soft afternoon light, pale and luminescent, her dark navy dress hugging the curves of her chest and flowing out softly from her hips to flutter at her knees. Her feet were bare, partially hidden by the clover as she stepped lightly. She laughed as it started to drizzle, turning her face toward the sky, reaching toward it and welcoming the summer storm.

He quirked his lips slightly as he watched her from the shadow of the trees. Perhaps not an angel. More like a nymph.

He moved toward her on silent feet, retracing the path she'd woven. He was curious why she was here and why she had asked for him. Curious enough to follow her lead.

Stopping just shy of touching, Jareth leaned over her shoulder, his voice low as it fanned over her skin. "Out in the woods alone?"

Sarah jumped, spinning around with wide eyes. She took a few steps back, a tree stopping her retreat. "It's you."

"Very brave. But then you always were." He smirked. "Foolishly so, some might say."

He was intrigued by the slight tilt of her chin and the determined lilt in her tone, and more particularly by the daring spark in her eyes when she spoke. "I am not the foolish girl you once knew."


His pointed teeth flashed as he stalked toward her. She held her ground as he moved closer, her hands pressed behind her against the tree. He stepped in, one leather boot sliding between her bare feet, and rested a gloved hand against the trunk above her head. His eyes dropped low, skimming slowly, appreciatively, over her figure before rising to meet hers. "I see. You're all grown up." He leaned in to whisper against her ear. "But is it not foolish to desire an enemy?"

She licked her lips, her voice breathy. "Who says I desire you?"

He pulled back to search her face. "Perhaps it is I who am the fool." His eyes flicked down once more, tracing over the swell of her breasts, rising and falling with each ragged breath. "But, then again…" His gaze trailed up over her throat to her mouth, soft puffs of breath escaping parted lips. "The short breaths, the racing heart – if not desire…perhaps fear."

"I'm not afraid of you."

A wicked smile curled his lips. "Prove it."

She lifted her chin higher. "I'm not running away screaming, am I?"

"Mmm. Yet, so defiant." Her damp hair hung in loose tendrils from her shoulders, small droplets escaping from the water-curled ends to slide enticing over her collarbone and down her flushed skin into the bodice of her dress. He envied them, how they teased along her skin, the tight peaks of her breasts straining against the fabric. He wanted to ease that ache, comfort them, release them, warm them with his hands and worship them with his mouth. The poor things. With a heavy heart, he left her breasts to their plight, his eyes tracing up the long column of her throat and over the stubborn jut of her chin. The rain clung to her eyelashes and glistened on her lips, full and begging to be kissed. He wanted to devour her.

He held her gaze as he reached up to pluck a sprig of honeysuckle from the vine that wrapped itself serpentine-like around the trunk of the tree. He brushed the sweet nectar back and forth lightly over her lips. "I wonder… What does it taste like, that defiance? Will it have that sharp tang of fear? Or will it be warm and sweet…" He dipped his head to run his tongue slowly along her bottom lip, and smiled at the catch in her breath.

When she ducked under his arm and darted away, he narrowed his eyes. So, she wants to play, does she? Well, then, we'll play.

She slipped through the trees ahead of him and he followed in the shadows. She glanced over her shoulder, looking for him, and he smiled at the hint of disappointment when he wasn't where she thought. And when the pink tip of her tongue darted out to lick the trace of nectar from her lips where his had been only moments before, he nearly groaned. Such an innocent gesture…

But he knew better.

He circled around her, out of sight as he watched. She began to walk backwards, slowly, searching the trees. She lifted her hair from her neck, twisting the damp strands on top of her head and holding it there. Her other hand rested at the base of her throat as she turned her face up to the sky, the slow rain washing over features.

She gave a soft gasp of surprise as she stepped back into his chest and his arm snaked across her stomach. Her hair tumbled down from her loosened grip, and he breathed it in, burying his face in it, before brushing it aside and placing his lips close to her ear. "Looking for me?"

"I was wondering where you had gone." He could hear the smile in her voice. "What do you want, Goblin King?"

"I want many things. But if you're asking why I'm here – I am nothing but your slave."

"Are you implying that I called for you?"

"Are you claiming that you didn't?

Angling the leather crop upwards, he hooked the tipped end in the neckline of her dress, and tugged down slightly to reveal something…new. What appeared to be an image of an owl peeked out at him from beneath the bodice of her dress. He raised his brows. "My, my. What have we here?"

She took advantage of his momentary distraction to spin away, smiling coyly as she backed towards a tangle of bushes. "Maybe I have a soft spot for villainous fairy tale kings, after all." She ducked into an opening in the thicket and was gone.

Following her, he emerged into a clearing, at the center of which was a life-size crystal unicorn. He chuckled softly and began a lazy stroll toward her, watching her as she trailed her fingers along its back on the far side.

She paused and glanced up at him. "Maybe I hoped that the fairy tale was true, that he would come back one day, that he would show me that it wasn't just a line in a storybook." She looked away with a smile. "Maybe."

He leaned one arm on the rise of the crystal tail, propping his chin in the hand of the other. "Is that so?"

Reaching up to grab hold of an ear and using the upturned hoof as a ledge, Sarah hoisted herself up to lean a hip against its crystalline head as she turned to face him. "Maybe." She hooked one impossibly long leg over its back, sliding to straddle the frozen beast. "And maybe I have a secret."

An impish smile curled her lips as she leaned forward, pressing her hands onto the crystal surface between her open thighs. Rain kissed her skin, trailing down the long lines of her arms and the firm curve of her calves to drip from the tips of her toes, muddy from the forest floor. She was the picture of temptation, perched above him on her rock of crystal in this ocean of green. And even if it meant the death of him, he could no more resist her siren call than he could stop breathing.

No, definitely not an angel.

His smile turned feral as he stepped up onto the curl of the tail, fully intending to answer her unspoken challenge. Placing a knee on the back of the unicorn, he leaned over her, forcing her back against the sweeping mane as he set his riding crop to rest in the crook of its ears. He dipped his head, his cheek brushing hers, his breath teasing along her skin. "A secret? How deliciously provocative. Do tell, precious."

Her hand slid over his where it rested on the curve of her knee as she turned her head toward him. "Your hands," she whispered. "You can do such amazing things with your hands. I've always wondered… are they as capable with the gloves off?" A surge of need washed over him at the brush of her lips over his ear.

Removing his hand with a hurried reluctance, he tugged at the middle finger of the leather with his teeth, ripping the glove from his hand. He held her gaze, now dark with desire, as he gave the other glove the same rough treatment, tossing both to the ground. Settling into the gentle sway of the unicorn's back, he curled his bare hands beneath the underside of her knees, pulling her closer as he lifted her legs and hooked them over his own. She placed her hands behind her, leaning back to steady herself, her back arched and her breasts pushed forward like an offering. How could he refuse?

He leaned forward, nestling his face between her beasts, inhaling her. He could smell the rain mingling with that warm, intoxicating scent of her skin, the lavender of her shampoo from the damp strands hanging over her shoulders. The hint of her arousal triggered something primal and his hands flexed over her open thighs. The urge to take her right then and there, bury himself in her, lose himself, to feel her surrender… He took a shuddering breath.


He looked up to see her head thrown back, the pale column of her neck exposed. Taking that as an invitation, he traced a path upward, his lips brushing lightly over her skin, tasting her, as his hands slid higher on her thighs under her skirt. He marveled at the feel of her beneath his hands, his lips - soft and warm and willing. He paused to press a kiss at the base of her throat, feeling her shiver as his hair teased her sensitive flesh.

My Sarah…

Her breath caught as his teeth nipped at her throat, and his tongue flicked out to soothe the tender spot, laving it gently, tenderly, before moving up to pull the soft lobe of her ear between his teeth.

His hands encountered the bare skin of her ass, and he swallowed a groan, burying his face in her hair. To know that she had worn nothing…

She gasped as he squeezed the rounded cheeks, and he shifted his head to growl in her ear. "I'm surprised she didn't buck you off, minx." He lifted her in a flash of movement, her arms wrapping around his neck instinctually as he pulled her roughly into his lap.

He yanked down the bodice of her dress, exposing her full breasts to the summer air. She flinched as the cool rain touched her skin, a lone droplet daring to trail down the soft mound to hang from one pink-hued crown. His tongue snaked out to catch it and she shivered. Cupping their soft weight in his hands, he lifted them, burying his face between them as his thumbs skimmed lightly over the peaks, feeling them tighten in response. She whimpered, her fingers tracing over his ears and curling into his hair to pull him closer.

He pressed a kiss in that gentle valley, loosening his hold and running the flat of his palms up over their fullness. His eyes sought hers only to find them closed, her face turned upward, and her lips parted over short pants of breath. He drank in the sight of her; she was breathtaking, and enchanting, and in his arms. He turned his head to press his ear over her heart, to listen to that soft, rapid staccato and remind himself that she was real. His gaze fixed on her exposed breast, and he brought his hand up to skim his fingers one by one over the pert nipple, fascinated as it responded to each brief caress.

Giving into temptation, he leaned over to pull that tight bud into his mouth and heard her moan. He responded with his own when her fingernails raked across his scalp as she pulled him closer. He suckled her gently, coaxing her with his tongue, encouraged by her soft sounds of pleasure. He could feast on her for eternity and die a starved but happy man. Only her – her warm skin and soft voice, her response, her passion, her acceptance – it was all he needed, everything he wanted. Only Sarah…

He released her to place a gentle kiss on that delectable little tip, blowing on it softly. She hissed in a breath, flinching slightly as her stomach contracted, and he smiled. Not wanting to be accused of being unfair, he drifted to the other to give it the same attention.

He paused, his eyes fixed on the image of the owl inked into the swell of her left breast, his lips brushing idly back and forth across the rosy crest as he studied it. White, brown-tipped wings fanned out and curled around the sides of her breast, its eyes fixed straight ahead and its talons reaching toward the center. He skimmed his fingers over the image reverently from one wingtip to the other. He wondered if he could make it fly.

He proceeded to tease and taunt, kneading and nuzzling, torturing her with his tongue, completely captivated by each undulating movement of the owl in response to his machinations. He was vaguely aware of her squirming rather distractingly against him, but the image was hypnotic. He was forced from his play when her hands grabbed his hair by the roots, and yanked his head back.

"Touch me." She ground against him to more clearly illustrate her demand. "Touch me, Goblin King."

He closed his eyes briefly at the sensation. "My name, Sarah." He offered her a charming smile as he met her burning gaze. "Say my name."

"Touch me—"she gasped as his tongue flicked her taunt nipple. "Please, Jareth..."

"Since you said 'please'…" He ghosted the words over her lips, intent on capturing them, but she threw her head back with a gasp when his fingers brushed lightly over the silky curls between her legs. Slightly put out by the suspicion that she was evading him, he settled on revenge. Revenge could be sweet indeed, and he would make sure she was dripping with it.

He stroked her gently at first, just the barest touch of his fingers as he nibbled along her neck. She arched against his hand, begging him, and he relented, denying her nothing. Sliding his fingers firmly into her satiny folds he found the moist heat of her center. Slipping a finger inside, he groaned, letting his forehead fall to rest on her chest. She was so incredibly tight and slick and warm, and he wanted to bury himself inside her.

A soft whimper from those evasive lips, and he rallied. He began a slow rhythm, tracing his finger up through her moist folds, circling slowly over that sensitive nub, and then back down to slip inside, beckoning her response. Up, circle, down, slip…

Her little sighs and exclamations were nearly his undoing as she wriggled beneath his hand, demanding more. Her breasts heaved from her choked gasps, and he pulled one tight peak into his mouth as he added a second finger. Up, circle, down, slip, up…

She jerked when he pressed down firmly on that tiny bundle of nerves. "Please…," she whispered.

He circled slowly with his fingers, trailing his lips along her jawline to her ear. "Please what?"

She gripped his hair, leaning into him for support. "I need you to…oh, god, please…I need you…"

He laughed lightly as he continued to tease her. "Say your right words, precious."

Her hand snaked down and gripped his arousal firmly, and his stomach clenched. Her eyes snapped to his, determined. "Right now."

She didn't wait for his response. She tugged at the laces of his pants, her movements swift and practiced as she loosed the ties and freed his arousal, hard and aching for her. She wrapped a delicate hand around his length and he sucked in a ragged breath. Hooking her feet on the inside of his knees, she sat up higher on his lap, guiding him to her center. He gripped the flanks of the beast hard with his thighs as much to give her the support she needed as to temper his own raging need. Slowly, excruciatingly, she sank down, holding his gaze as she sheathed him inch by inch until his was buried to the hilt. Her walls, warm and slick, hugged his length possessively, and he shuddered at the exquisite sensation.

Tenderly, she pushed back the wayward strands from his face, lacing her fingers through his hair, and he was lost to her at that moment, lost in the magnetic pull of her gaze, in the feeling of her wrapped around him. And then she began to move.

Her eyes drifted shut, her face turned up to the falling rain as she rocked slowly, so slowly, against him. He ran his hands over her skin, reveling in the feel of her – sliding up her arms to caress her back and pull her closer, skimming down over her shoulders to tease her breasts, trailing to her waist and around to cup the firm cheeks of her ass, kneading them, silently urging her to move faster. She lifted her arms to push back the damp hair clinging to her face, her pace quickening. She rode him hard and wild, using him for her pleasure, towering above him like a warrior queen - strong and powerful and without mercy. All he could do was surrender. Her soft sighs and moans tortured him as he struggled for control, clenching his teeth in his fight to hold out, to give her what she wanted, what she needed.

With a gasp, she collapsed against him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she shook under the shattering waves of her climax. Pulling her tight against him, he stroked a hand over her hair, pressing his lips to her ear. "I love you, Sarah. With all that I am, I love you."

Reaching the end of his own control, he thrust into her, finding his own release as her muscles quivered around him. Trembling in the aftermath, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in and holding her close, sinking blissfully into the comfort of her embrace. They clung to each other, their fingers tracing lazy caresses as they caught their breath.

He felt her smile against his neck, followed by soft, gentle kisses pressed enticingly along his throat. Her lips lingered to tease the sensitive skin of his ear as she whispered, "Happy Anniversary."

He pulled back to look at her, noting the sparkle in her eyes and the smile on her lips. Those damned evasive lips – he lingered there. "You, my Sarah, are a goddess."

Reaching up to trap her face between his palms, in case she had any further plans for escape, he pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers, coaxing her to open for him. And when she did, he slid his tongue against hers and delighted in her soft hum of satisfaction.

When he finally let her pull away, she gave him a saucy smile as she stretched. "Were you surprised?"

"Pleasantly." He wrapped his arms loosely around her hips, dragging his gaze from her breasts to her eyes, and smirked. "So you did like my gift, after all." At the sharp slap of leather against his thigh he narrowed his eyes.

"Don't think you're off the hook, precious thing. I've got a closet full of your gifts, and I fully expect you to atone for each and every one."

"Do you?"

"For each of those atrocities you forced on me when I was being stubborn and wanted absolutely nothing to do with you, I want a new memory."

"But the payoff was worth it, wouldn't you agree?"

She poked him in the chest. "You were out of line and you know it. There were better ways to earn my affection."

"I do love to see you all riled up. It's intoxicating."

She blushed slightly at the implication and he smiled.

"Yeah, well…still. You owe me, Goblin King."

"I am your slave, precious. Do with me what you will."

"Don't think I won't."

"If what you have planned is anything like this afternoon, I'm quite eager to pay my debt." He reached down to slip the riding crop from her lax grip, lest she rethink her good humor. "But, I'm curious, love. Why the crystal unicorn?"

"I figured I'd start with the most ridiculous for our first anniversary. When my neighbors threatened to call that Gestapo of a Home Owner's Association on me, I asked Ludo to move it." She grinned. "Apparently there's a quarry just a stone's throw from here where he goes to think."

"Ludo thinks?"

"Yes. Shut up."

He reached up to smooth the hair from her face and then reluctantly righted the bodice of her dress. "As delightful as this is, I'm afraid I have a rather unfortunate surprise for you as well."


"Mmm. At this very moment, our goblins are preparing a surprise party. We're expected to attend."

"Oh. Well, then. Help me down?"

"Of course." After setting himself to rights, he lept easily to the ground, turning to find that she had shifted so that both lovely legs dangled enticingly in front of him. He ran his hands up the curves of her calves and over her thighs, to settle on her waist. Lifting her, he stepped in close leaving very little room between his body and the statue for her to slide to the ground.

Once both feet were firmly planted, she pushed him playfully. "Go find your gloves."

He stole a quick kiss before doing just that.

He found them in a puddle, a little worse for wear. Tucking them in his boot, he shook his head, scattering droplets of rain. He looked up at her laugh, running his hands through his now dry hair, artfully arranged in careless layers.

"Even the rain can't tame that wild mane of yours."

"The elements have no power over natural perfection, love."

She shook her head and laughed again, bringing a hand self-consciously to her own hair. "Mine, on the other hand—"

"Is beautiful. As are you."

She smiled prettily at his compliment, letting her hand drop to pluck absently at the skirt of her dress. "Thanks."

Her returned her smile, marveling at this woman, his Sarah. How easily she could slip from the role of enchanting seductress to innocent maid. There was so much to know about her, to love about her. He watched with rapt attention as she wrapped her hair in a loose twist over her shoulder, humming softly. She bent over to brush snips of grass from her legs, and a flash of color caught his eye - reminding him.

"That." He pointed the leather crop at the owl on her breast. "I assume that's the reason for your vacation, a vacation from which you forbade me to accompany you?"

"This?" Her hand drifted to her breast and she smiled. "Yes. Karen and I went to a tattoo parlor. She didn't get anything so elaborate; just a small blue flame on her hip. My dad wasn't exactly pleased, but he came around after she gave him a private viewing. I wanted—"

"And who gave you this tattoo?"

"Oh." She looked up at his interruption, confusion evident on her face, but then a slow smile spread across her lips. "You know, I think I like it when you're jealous. Sexy."

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not pleased with the idea of some mortal dreg viewing my Queen so intimately."

"The artist was a woman."

"If you wanted to be marked, I would have happily obliged."

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Hmm." A trace of uncertainty flashed in her eyes, a slight pout pulling down the corners of her lips.

Well, he couldn't have that.

Though she defied him at every turn, and tried his patience more often than not – he would not change her, would not break her. Her willfulness, her independence, her spirit, her delight in the most ridiculous things – he loved her for all of that. The thought that he had hurt her or brought her any measure of sadness pained him.

He closed the distance between them, threading a hand up through her hair. He smiled, tracing a thumb across her lips to erase the small frown. "None of that now, love."

He bent his head to brush his lips softly against hers, kissing her tenderly. To be worthy of such a gesture, to be worthy of her love was…everything. All traces of petty irritation fell away. He rested his forehead against hers, he eyes cast down to follow his fingers as they traced lightly over the image. "You are full of surprises today…" He cupped her face, kissing her once more. "I missed you."

She smiled up at him, and his heart expanded at the unconditional love in her eyes. "So I take it you got my message?"

"Your clever little note? Yes." He smirked. "Well played, my Queen."

"Not so bad yourself, Your Majesty." She made a sweeping gesture with her arms, rising to her tip toes. "I think I must be glowing from my triumph. To best the consummate trickster…again."

"You are that." She was indeed glowing, that particular glow of a well-loved and properly tended woman, and he felt no small amount of smug satisfaction for his part in that. "But I wouldn't be so quick to declare victory in our game yet. I do have a reputation to uphold."

"In that case, sweep me off my feet, my dark villainous king." She feigned swooning, trusting him to catch her.

Which he did. His arms wrapped around her back, holding her off balance as he leaned over her. He cocked a brow. "You dare to mock me?"

She looked up at him from under her lashes, a small smile teasing at her lips. "Are you going to punish me?"

Perhaps not quite sated, after all. He would have to see to that.

"That can be arranged, precious." He bent his head to nuzzle her neck, one hand slipping down to pinch her rear. He laughed at her squeal of surprise. "You have been a very naughty girl."

And in a shower of glitter, the couple was gone, leaving only the crystal unicorn to stand watch in the small clearing, rainbow ribbons of light fluttering in the clearing sky.

Hours later, the Goblin King and Queen finally deigned to make an appearance at their anniversary party, fashionably late as usual. It was a small boon that the goblins couldn't tell time, and were none the wiser, though much of the ale had not-so-mysteriously disappeared. Curling together into the throne, the guests of honor were content to enjoy the chaos.


Author's Note:

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