Sarah could not sleep. She knew once she drifted off what she would dream about, or to be more specific, who she would dream about. She found herself thinking of him too often for her own sanity.
She kept waking up, her mind still flowing with thoughts about him, but in her agony she only wished she could forget. Each and every night she had to go through losing him again. When she woke, he'd be gone. She could never savor being with him when she knew she'd inevitably wake up with him not there. It was like memories of him. All she saw of her time in the labyrinth was hit with the realization she'd rejected him.
If she had any regrets, they were all about him.
She'd been too young to understand what he was offering. No man in her world would ever offer her that kind of treatment.
She'd find herself awoken in fear, shame, or agony in the middle of the night.
She dreamed of his face, his body, his voice. Kissing him, touching him, hearing him sing to her. She couldn't run from his memory.
"Free me." She'd whisper to him through her tears. He never answered.
She would then roll back onto her side and shut her eyes tight, praying morning would come without seeing his face.
When she was nineteen she couldn't bear the loss of everything, she was truly no longer a child. She hadn't seen any of her friends from the underground in years. She missed them. Each time she saw an owl she could barely breathe, waiting for it to be him. But it never was.
She stared at her ceiling, unable to calm her racing heart. The dreams were growing more and more erotic. What started with fantasies simply about seeing him again, kissing him, were growing into a sexual obsession that was beginning to disturb her. With age she lost more and more innocence, and though she learned what sex was and how it was done, she didn't know how it felt, what it really meant, how it could change her. She never found anyone she'd be able to try it with, her standards had been forever altered by the supreme god-like king she met those years ago, and finding someone to match those expectations in high school was impossible. Chivalry was dead anyways.
She rolled onto her side, wrapping the blankets tightly around her. There was a draft from the open window.
She remembered being tucked in with a story when she was a child. She remembered telling stories to her baby brother, even when he became less and less of a baby. He was getting too old for her stories. Why wasn't she old enough yet?
This was her lullaby, the possibility. Her king.
She needed a story. Just something to help her drift off.
"Once there was a girl." She whispered quietly. She was not a princess. She was just a girl.
"And there was a king. He was very lonely and he wanted a queen. He overheard the cries of a girl, trying to banish her brother to him. He was generous, so he followed her wishes. When she realized her mistake, he allowed her try to win her brother back. On her journey, he kept making the challenges harder, but she learned from them and grew stronger. He reordered time; he turned the world upside down, all for her. The girl was also lonely, but she was foolish. The king swore his love for her, and asked for her to join him and she refused. She was unsure of the king's love for her. She was too young to realize she was so terribly foolish. She went back to her home, without a castle, and longed for her king to rescue her and wished he would take her back."
She took a deep breath, the longing growing painful.
"And she wondered if he ever thought of her. Little did she know…he did. He wished he knew why she refused him, just as she wished she could tell him why, and why she had been so wrong. He still loved her, and she loved him back, even more deeply than he knew. He waited for her, in his castle, hoping she'd return. But she didn't know how to return. The magic in her was gone."
She felt dead as she said the words. She knew them to be true, but it hurt to think she'd never find her way to him.
"I wish I could see you right now." She whispered in a tiny, desperate voice.
She bit back tears and rolled over to get more comfortable and try to drift off.
An owl watched from a tree branch by her open window. It had heard the story and knew it well. It spread its white wings and landed on the sill, not making a sound. With a flash of light the owl transformed into a Fae man. He had long blonde hair and two piercing eyes that's colors were different which made them even more striking. He was wearing, along with his ever-present smirk, a long black coat and leggings that left little to the imagination. He twirled a crystal in his hand as he looked down at the huddle of blankets on the bed hiding the girl from the story.
"Precious, are you still awake?" he asked scoldingly.
She sat up, not sure she believed the voice was real. But there he was.
"What a lovely story. I think I may recognize it somehow." He said, smirking at her. She simply stared, stupefied.
He strode over to her bedside, brushing a few stray dark hairs out of her eyes.
"You should be asleep."
"You should be running your Kingdom," She retorted.
"You asked for me to be here. I've only done what you've wanted."
He knelt down by her bedside. "I'm here to know what it is you desire."
"Oh." So chivalry was not dead.
"May I ask why you called me, or better yet, why that lovely story was told? To whom were you speaking?"
She blushed. "I had another dream about you." she blurted out.
He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. "Another?"
She stared down at her hands.
"They've been happening….increasingly. It's like you were never gone." She said softly. She bit down on her lip.
He stared directly into her eyes, the ice in his eyes made her nervous. His gaze was intense and even a bit angry.
"Was I truly gone? It does not seem that way Sarah, seeing as you were the one who left."
"It's not like I felt incredibly welcome." She snapped.
His eyebrows shot up at this, and his intense gaze faded as he laughed his beautiful, almost haughty laugh she missed so much.
She smiled as she watched him laugh, surprised on how well she remembered the shape of his face, the definition in his cheekbones, the angle of his nose.
When he stopped laughing she knew she wanted him there. With a tentative hand she brushed the skin of his cheek.
"You are really here." She whispered in awe.
He smiled as her whole hand settled on his face, gently tracing his skin, and her other hand joined in her explorations. Her fingers brushed over his nose, eyelashes, his brows and his lips. His skin was so soft and pale; his nobility was present in every way with the regal-ness of his appearance. He was beautiful.
His hands came up to hold hers, pulling her right hand towards his mouth to place a kiss on her wrist, right over the pulse, causing the delicate skin to tingle. He placed a kiss on her palm.
She pulled her hand away to lean in and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. She pecked a few boys on the lips before, but she was new to a real, romantic kiss that she saw on TV. After the first seconds of contact she knit her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer, gently melding their lips together, exploring. She was enjoying the sensation, kicking herself for not trying it sooner, but realizing it was worth the wait for who she was with.
"My Sarah." He murmured against her lips, the vibrations from his mouth ringing against her skin and sending shivers down her spine.
He pulled her into a deeper kiss, his tongue gaining entrance before she understood what he was seeking. She was confused by the unfamiliar wetness in her mouth; his taste was very different than anything she knew. After a few moments of his explorations, she decided she liked it. She managed to reciprocate with her own tongue lightly massaging and moving in his mouth.
His hands began to ghost down her body and travel around her skin. She flinched, unsure how to react to the sudden contact and increased pace. She felt shy suddenly. Her hands slipped down over his to try to move them away or block them, but all she was able to do was slow them down slightly.
His hands became more curious, almost aggressive, as they moved around her body. His hands brushed over the cloth covering her breasts and she shivered against him, pulling away slightly to draw her nightclothes around herself tighter.
He leaned back in to try again, to coax her out of her shyness, but she seized his hands gently but firmly to push him away.
He cocked his head at her in confusion; he obviously was not used to this sort of reaction, especially a reaction he did not want. She blushed, knowing she wanted him too but she was scared, or embarrassed, suddenly too aware of their differences.
They stood staring at each other, Sarah chewing on her lip and Jareth's brow hitching upwards. He sighed and leaned towards her again, enveloping her in his arms.
"Precious, why are you hiding from me?"
He said very softly, his breath tickling her head. He placed a kiss on her hair.
Very deftly, he slid on of the straps of her nightgown down her shoulder and kissed the bare skin.
"Sarah," he began, and instantly she heard the change in his voice. He wasn't going to reason with her much longer. "I've been patient, I've waited for far too long, and now that I'm here you try to defy me. You know I can be cruel."
She whimpered as his lips parted and he bit into her shoulder, just enough to draw blood. He held her still as he cleaned the mark, using his tongue to massage the wound in an almost…sensual way.
His arm coiled tight around her waist as he lifted her back onto her bed.
He kissed her, and she could feel the power he had over her building. It seemed to rise up and surround her. She was protected. Possessed. Her body was completely responsive to him. She felt his power slowly begin to seep in through her skin, so he did not just possess her body, but everything she felt and thought. She was ready to share this with him.
He hitched the hem of her nightgown up to her thighs and curled one hand around the back of her knee. He lifted the leg so it curled around his hip, sliding his hand up the back of her thigh. She pulled off his coat and threw it across the room. She placed her hands flat on his back, feeling his shoulders through the thin fabric of his shirt as they moved. He moved down to kiss her neck; one of her hands slid up to tangle itself is his soft hair as he sucked at the pulse point.
He brought his lips up to her ear, kissing the tender skin beneath it.
"You asked me to free you, Precious. I can't do that."
His hand on the back of her leg moved to rub her over her underwear.
She whimpered at the unfamiliar sensations, gasping as he slipped his finger under the fabric to feel at the folds of her center. She bucked against his hands and she heard him laugh arrogantly against her skin.
"Not when I have power over you."
He slid two fingers inside her tight core and she mewled loudly.
His thumb drifted over her clit and she gasped, not sure she was ready to learn of this sort of pleasure but never wanting it to stop.
His other hand pushed the neckline of her nightgown down so her breasts were exposed. His fingers went to one of the hardened buds on her chest as he toyed with it, sending jolts of pleasure throughout her being. His mouth moved from her ear to a nipple, sucking on it so hard it was almost painful from the pleasure she received.
Another finger joined the others in her heat, she cried out as he thrust his hand harder inside of her.
Without warning he removed his hand and sat up off of her, causing a loud cry protest.
He smirked at her. "Do you want me to continue?"
She nodded, panting.
He leaned down by her ear.
"You know what to say."
She pulled him back down on top of her, kissing him and pushing her hands into his hair.
"I will fear you, love you, and do as you say. I was wrong; you do have power over me, please. Now will you continue before I go mad?"
He chuckled, and with a wave of his hands, both of them were naked. She held her breath when she saw the beauty of him, his wiry but muscled arms, slender hips, flat stomach. She loved feeling his soft pale skin against hers.
He grabbed her hips and positioned himself at her entrance.
He stared down at her, awaiting her cue to keep going. She swiveled her hips a little to show she has ready. He thrust in, taking her virginity. She whimpered from the pain. He leaned down to kiss her, she bit his lower lip slightly and dug her nails into his skin as payback. He smirked at the childish retaliation. The pain slowly subsided as she became used to the feel of him inside her, and she gently bucked against him.
He took this as his chance to keep going, he pulled her hips closer to hers and began to thrust in and out. She moaned and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. He smoothed her black hair out of her face and kissed her gently as she made sounds of approval against his lips.
She felt something build inside of herself, her toes curled at the thought of what she only heard about whispered in the girls' bathroom or in advice columns of magazines. Something secret, extraordinary, and grown-up.
She glanced at him, his eyes were locked on her face and though his expression was serious, he seemed to be absorbing her reactions. One of her hands reached up to his collarbone, she ran her fingers down his chest and stomach to feel his muscles working.
He lifted her hips slightly and hit against a different spot inside her that made her see stars. He knew she was close.
She cried out once more as she came for the very first time. Her limbs relaxed completely as she lay back. Jareth followed after a few more thrusts.
He pulled out and lay down next to her, arms encircling her waist. He kissed the top of her head and pulled some of her hair back. They were both sweaty so he only pulled the sheets back over them, leaving the blanket in a disheveled tangle at the foot of the bed.
She was breathing heavily, eyes closed, but she was smiling. He chuckled as she pulled him closer and kissed his chest, right over his heart.
"Don't you see why I couldn't free you?" he whispered into her hair and she giggled.
"What a mistake on my part." She teased.
"Just don't make it again."
"I won't," she promised.
She glanced up at him shyly. He raised his eyebrows at her to ask what she wanted.
"Can I go back with you?" she asked.
"Look around you." he said with a smirk.
She glanced around and they were in a bed in a stone room, surrounded by candles. They were in his castle.
He laughed at her confusion, mussing her hair with his hand.
"When did we get here?" she asked him with an accusing look.
"Just now." He reassured her.
"I'll take this as a yes to my question." She leaned up to kiss him, lingering on his lips as long as she could.
"I intend to keep you here for a long time, Sarah." He said seriously. She took a deep breath. If this was her chance, she would not blow it.
"Forever?" she asked hopefully.
"If you'd like." He replied, keeping his eyes locked on hers.
"Yes. I'll stay. But you have to be my slave."
He laughed. "If you uphold your end of the bargain."
"Didn't I already say I would?"
He grinned at her and held up a crystal, but with a swirl of his hand it turned into a peach.
"Hungry?" he asked, his voice challenging her.
She reached for the fruit, but she saw the mischief in his eyes.
"Where will it take me?" she asked, rolling it in her hands. She attempted to juggle it like he had, but ended up dropping it on the sheets.
He laughed. "It's a surprise."
She stared at him gamely and with as much seduction as she could manage, she took a large bite out of the fruit, letting the juice drip down her chin. He leaned in to lick it off, taking a bite for himself out of the fruit. She lay against his chest until she felt herself drift off, guided by the sound of his voice to an elaborate world of his design. She could hardly wait to see the places he could take her.
AN- first published Labyrinth fic, this is the first of a series of one-shots I'm doing. I recently became obsessed with this movie and David Bowie, so expect much more Jareth in the future. Feedback is always lovely, I love constructive criticism (I'm still not the best at lemons, sorry) no flames please!