A/N: This began as a response to the newest drabble challenge over at the Labyfic Livejournal, go check it out (and share your drabble!) at labyfic dot livejournal (dot com)

Challenge prompt is this quote from Mark Twain: "Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society." It was very inspiring.

The castle was quiet as Sarah made her way to the library. It wasn't very early, but she had found in the past year that most of the residents kept the same night owl hours as her husband. She was hardly a morning person herself, but she did prefer to start the morning before Jareth got out of bed, certainly before he ever made it out of their room.

He had teased her for her schedule before, pointing out that he had ignored his work for much longer than a morning many times over his long reign and the kingdom still managed, but Sarah felt guilty doing the same. She was the newcomer, after all, and already at a disadvantage. She didn't want to give the other royals another reason to look down on her. Still, she would admit to letting herself be delayed in bed by him more than a few times. He was a difficult man to resist, and she couldn't find it in her to try all that hard.

She laid a hand against the library door and it swung open easily for her despite its weight. A small stack of papers sat on the desk by the window on the other side of the room. She strode over and picked the top one up, a nearly translucent sheet filled with swirling dark red writing. She sighed as she sank into the chair behind the desk. Another ball, of course. They couldn't resist any occasion, celebrating a holiday of passion with another debauched affair was a given.

Sarah ran her hand through her hair. The Midwinter event didn't seem very long ago, and she wasn't overjoyed to be repeating the experience so soon. Perhaps it was her "uptight human morals" as Jareth had put it, but every event was like being fifteen again, confused and overwhelmed in a place she didn't belong. It didn't help that the reality of the gatherings was much more intense than her younger self could have conceived. Jareth was supportive, he had no more desire to share her than she did him, but she knew she was somewhat baffled by her profound discomfort with the goings-on at court.

The events were important politically however, and she couldn't ignore them because she was uncomfortable. There were plenty of exchanges going on beyond the obvious encounters, and Sarah was determined to understand them better, to unravel the subtleties that Jareth took for granted. She neatly folded her reply and turned it over in her hands several times before setting it to the side of the desk. Jareth would have to send it later.

She picked up the next item from the stack, the thickest one of the bunch. From the plain envelope and stamps she could tell exactly who it was from, and she smiled when she tore it open to see Karen's neat handwriting. She leaned back in the chair to read, laughing at Karen's description of Toby's somewhat disastrous school play. She set the photo Karen had included carefully to the side, then rummaged through the desk for paper and a pen.

The sound of the door swinging open startled Sarah several minutes later, but she continued writing as she heard her husband's footsteps approach. She finished her sentence with a flourish and looked up, smiling.

"Good mor-" she began, but stopped dead when she registering what he was wearing. Or not wearing, as it happened. At first she thought he had simply chosen a different color for his attire, but her mind soon caught up and realized that he was standing before her completely naked of everything except his trademark pointy grin, widened to dangerous proportions. She gaped for a second and the grin somehow grew even wider. Clearing her throat, she tried again.

"Good morning," she said, her voice much breathier than she intended. Biting her lip, she looked back down at the letter, determined not to give him the reaction he wanted.

"Good morning," he replied, and she could just hear his stupid smirk.

Floundering a bit, she stubbornly picked up the pen she had dropped, and stared at her letter, trying to resolve the letters into words so she could remember what she had just written. Damn it, it wasn't like it was anything she hadn't seen before!

Giving up on the letter, she tossed the pen back down and met Jareth's gaze, just waiting for her.

"That's a new look for you," she commented lightly. "Dare I ask what inspired it?"

"Well," he began, "my closest advisor recently defamed me as a – what was it? – Oh yes, a 'preening peacock who cares more about his next costume change than running a kingdom.'" He paused, to give her a pointed look, which Sarah returned. He sniffed, and she rolled her eyes. She certainly had no reason to change her opinion.

"So, in order to restore my reputation as a worthy monarch and demonstrate my devotion to my kingdom, I decided to eliminate my wardrobe from my concerns so that I might fully focus my rather considerable attentions to my rule."

"Well," she started, then realized she didn't know what she was going to say. "Well," she tried again. "I'm sure the goblins will appreciate your 'devotion.'" A thought occurred to her. "You aren't seriously going to go in the throne room like that, are you?"

"But of course," he replied, attempting to look offended, "I would be guilty of serious neglect as a king if I didn't spend time with my subjects. And I couldn't possibly spare the time to change, could I? Someone might accuse me of distraction."

She could undoubtedly accuse him of that. She was still having difficulty focusing on the conversation. "Good luck with that," she said, looking determinedly at her letter. "I wouldn't want to go in there with everything just, you know, hanging out like that, but more power to you."

He waved a hand at her concerns. "I am sure their natural awe at my presence will be enough to prevent any – accidents."

She raised her eyebrows disbelievingly, but he ignored her, examining his fingernails instead. She snorted, not a stitch on and he still managed to fuss over his appearance.

"If you're actually going to focus on the kingdom, you should probably go check they haven't burnt it down," she said pointedly, still not looking at him.

"Right you are, darling," he agreed, and turned to leave.

She watched him go out of the corner of her eye. Just before he left, she called after him.

"How long are you planning on doing this?"

He flashed her a grin over his shoulder. "Why, indefinitely, of course. I wouldn't want you to think my dedication was in any way lacking."

With that, he left, the solid wooden doors closing heavily behind him. Sarah gave in and let her head fall to the desk with an echoing thud.

/-\

That afternoon found the queen visiting the outer edges of the Labyrinth, enjoying tea with the few sane creatures left in the realm, and trying very hard to forget she had ever seen a throne room full of goblins gleefully following her illustrious husband's example.

A/N: There's a couple more pieces to this, all pretty short, this is probably the longest.