Between Darkness and Dawn
By Tari
AN: I do apologise for my absence. 2018 has been an awful year, and my writing has seriously suffered as a result. A big thank you to the team over at LFFL on Facebook who never fail to make me giggle.
This fic is for LadyKyridwen. Unfortunately, my muse has decided to go on holiday and has packed the other fic that we were brainstorming. Instead, it left this little short piece behind. I hope you enjoy.
He came to her by moonlight, his hungry eyes devouring the sleeping form of his nemesis, his weakness, his Champion. Fingers aching to touch that which he had long coveted and desired, Jareth tilted his head in a distinctive owlish manner as he admired the play of starlight that lovingly caressed Sarah's countenance, kissing the ebony locks of hair that fanned gracefully over her pillow. Jareth longed to see the look of wonder stealing over her face, her rose petal lips parted in surprise as she beheld the King of the `Goblins once more.
Yet Sarah remained steadfastly asleep, blissfully unaware of the presence of the monarch who even now faithfully guarded the realms of his Champion's dreams. Ten years has passed, a mere blink of the eyes to the immortal Fae and yet to Jareth, it felt like an eternity had passed since Sarah had bested him in combat and banished him from her life. However, as the Keeper of Wishes and Dreams, he was drawn to his Champion in the witching hour like a moth to a flame. Sarah was the light to his darkness, the innocence to his sin and if he were to touch her, surely he would burn. As a Fae, Jareth was fond of ancient tales and he often likened himself to Icarus, flying too close to the sun and singeing his wings. With a wry smirk, he realised that Sarah was the one who burned him night after night, and yet he always returned for more.
Despite the passing decade, Sarah's dreams remained vibrant and pure, tinged with an almost childlike innocence in an ever-changing world filled with death and decay. How Jareth longed to join his Labyrinth's greatest questor in the secret realms of her slumber, to dance with her in majestic ballrooms under the glittering candlelight of a hundred chandeliers, to walk with her in the sun-dappled glades of long forgotten woodlands, to lie her down in a soft bed of grass within a fairy ring and make love to her until the stars cascaded from the very heavens themselves. How Jareth yearned to touch her, to trace the hidden secrets of her forbidden body and worship at the sinful promise of her sacred lips. He yearned to run his fingers through her sable locks and hold her body close as she trembled and cried out with the spent passion of their ardour.
A sad smile pulled at the corners of Jareth's mouth. As the Keeper of Wishes and Dreams, the Goblin King was forbidden to interfere with the dreams of mortals. Night after night, Jareth stoically endured his penance of watching his Sarah call out for him in her sleep, but unable to enter her dreams and comfort her. He passed a hand over her mouth, the heat of her breath through the silken material of his glove was almost his undoing. Unable to touch her, Jareth ran a hand mere inches away from a lock of ebony hair, swallowing hard as he pictured cradling her skull in his hands as her silken tresses cascaded over his bare hands like a waterfall.
The stars wheeling overhead, the deep sigh of night was steadily giving way to the breaking of day, bathing Sarah in a fiery glow and Icarus' wings were once again burned. Retreating from the room, Jareth crouched on the windowsill, preparing for a long flight to soothe his singed feathers when a low murmur from his Champion stilled his heart.
"Jareth?" whispered Sarah sleepily, a warm shudder trembling through the Goblin King's body as his name fell from Sarah's lips like a long-forgotten prayer. She smiled muzzily, caught up in the secret realm between darkness and dawn where she still perceived Jareth to be little more than a dream.
"Sarah," murmured Jareth reverently, his hand shaking as he reached out and was finally able to cup her face in the palm of hand. Sarah nuzzled into his warmth, her fingers reaching up to cradle his hand with hers.
"It's early," she whispered, pulling back her comforter, her hand paying the space beside her to indicate her wish for Jareth to fill it. Closing his eyes briefly, Jareth's shirt and leather breeches were replaced by a simple pair of linen sleeping trousers as he joined Sarah in the warmth of her bed. A contented sigh escaped the monarch's lips as he pulled Sarah against him, his body moulding perfectly around hers; two pieces of a puzzle fitting together at long last.