A/N: Are you ever falling asleep at 5am after a long night of blogging, when a sudden idea jumps out of nowhere and literally brings you back to consciousness in its haste to get your attention? Yeah, this is one of those ideas. While this is extremely fluffy (AKA pointless), I do promise that there is stuff on the way. Winter Break is young, and I got Labyrinth on DVD for Christmas. Therefore the world is my oyster.

Peach

The warmth of the rising sun is what first wakes Jareth. It spreads slowly, first starting out as a tingling in his feet, and then steadily enveloping him until it's gracing his face. It's surprisingly pleasant, as the light isn't quite as bright enough to cause him discomfort yet.

He used to hate having the sun wake him, cursing whatever Goblin architect had built his castle so that there was a large window directly before his even larger bed. However, with the addition of a very specific person to his life, he's grown to appreciate them. Sarah loves sunrises. She loves their comforting heat and light, their promises of at least a bright day to rely on if all else goes wrong. If a simple Underground sunrise is enough to bring a smile to her lovely features every morning, then maybe they aren't as torrid as he once believed them to be.

Jareth turns to his side, hoping to share the warm pleasure with his Queen of ten years, but finds her side of the bed vacant. One quick inspection around their master chambers confirms that she is nowhere in the room, either. This doesn't worry Jareth, however. What with Sarah's curious nature, she is sometimes prone to wandering the castle on her own. Her independence is something that not even he could tap into, and he's glad for it.

Jareth freshens himself up, and dresses. He begins to make his way to the heart of the castle, and finds that not all of its inhabitants are entirely awake yet. Much fewer goblins hobble about than usual, going about whatever duties that they feel vitally important at the moment. The result is relaxing, as the din of various jabbering and hasty greetings to the kingy are diluted by far. Jareth finds himself questioning why he doesn't always awake this early, if it's possible for things to be this quiet.

Following his instinct, Jareth does a walk-by of any room that Sarah has shown a penchant for in the past, such the Library or Hall of Records. The search leaves him hungry and very Sarah-less. Just a small amount of concern leaks into Jareth's chest. Could she possibly have ventured outside at this hour?

He's resigning himself to the throne room, figuring that he may as well play the part of king while he waits, when he spots Sarah in the place he'd least expect to find her: lounged in his throne.

She's leaning completely on her side with both of her slender legs slung over one arm, a habit derived from his own of course. Jareth can't help but notice that she only bothered to put on her black silk robe when leaving their chambers. In result, the lacey, low-cut neck of her nightgown peeks out from under the loosely-tied covering, wordlessly wishing him a very good morning. In her hands she cradles a large, ripe, peach. As Jareth watches, she raises the fruit to her lips and takes a bite, closing her eyes to truly relish the flavor.

As content as Jareth is to stand back and witness her undisturbed peace, the want to speak to her is too strong. So he steps towards her and makes himself known.

"What are you up to, Precious?" Jareth asks her.

Sarah starts, clearly having been too deep in her own world to notice him. But then she smiles, and holds up the peach in explanation.

"Only throne-sitting," she replies easily.

Jareth looks her form over once more, from her beautifully tousled hair to her bare feet.

"Dressed like that?"

She pauses to give him a look of amusement, then, "It can be a very tiring job. If anyone of importance sees me in this state, you can just tell them that I'm playing out a fantasy of yours."

He chuckles and comes closer to her. Placing his hands on her knees, Jareth rubs small circles into her skin with his index fingers.

"That doesn't sound too horrible. But really, darling, are you alright? You gave me a bit of a scare when I couldn't find you."

Sarah nods reassuringly, and removes one hand from the peach to place it on his cheek. Her eyes, already soothing with their light green shade, speak only of serenity.

"Of course I am. I just woke up and couldn't back to sleep, and I was hungry. Conveniently enough, when I came outside a goblin had just finished picking these. I couldn't resist."

Indeed, Sarah had developed a certain liking to peaches from the Underground shortly after their wedding. Upon first tasting one (one that wasn't spiked, anyway), she'd told him that it was worlds better than any she'd ever had before. And Jareth had to agree with her on that one. Goblin-harvested peaches are much sweeter, and far more succulent than anything that could be found Aboveground.

As if remembering this, Sarah brings her hand back to the peach so that she can sink her teeth into it once more. Jareth realizes that he's probably staring, though he can't quite bring himself to look away. This brings him to his next words.

"Darling, you've got a bit of – allow me."

And with his thumb, he wipes away a smidge of nectar that had managed to trickle out the corner of her mouth. Jareth then brings his thumb to his own and samples the nectar, unable to resist his favorite fruit.

After a moment, all he can ask is, "Are there any more of those?"

Sarah laughs, and says, "Not so quickly. You've got kingy duties today."

Jareth groans, hastily pressing his face to her neck. Of course. He'd forgotten. Today he has a meeting with the king of a nearby goblin city. This particular meeting is one that he's postponed twice already, as this fae isn't exactly his favorite being, or anyone's for that matter.

"Please, don't let him in here," he whines like a child into her sweet-smelling skin. Despite her giggling, Sarah takes pity on him and runs comforting fingers through his hair.

"I'm afraid we have to, Jareth," she murmurs softly. This triggers another groan on Jareth's behalf. There are a few things he wishes to do right now, and they entail something along the lines of bringing Sarah back to bed so that they can enjoy the peach and other things in private. They do not, however, have any affiliation withdiscussing dull things such as border control with a fae who reeks of mold.

"Tell you what," Sarah begins, cutting this thought short and pushing him back by his shoulders. "I'll get someone to bring you another one of these, and we can spend our last hour of peace watching the sun rise from your throne."

As she speaks, Sarah motions to the bitten peach. The offer tempts Jareth, yet for some reason he still hesitates. Sarah sees this, so she adds on, "Come on, is it not enough to spend the morning with your scantily-dressed wife? Do I have to be naked too?"

She kisses him, full on the lips, before he can respond to the last question.

Once again Jareth can taste the rich essence of the peach, but this time it's straight from her dainty mouth. She allows him to deepen his exploration, and in it he finds several other flavors that he can only label as pure Sarah. Though, he wouldn't exactly call them flavors, but things that remind him of her. Things like warm sunshine rousing him from sleep, and slim fingers lazily scratching at the back of his neck. And of course, the briefly forgotten fruit that still rests in Sarah's unused palm. Overall, it leaves Jareth lost as to which he desires more: the peach or her.

After several moments of this savoring, he pulls back. Sarah releases him without complaint, grinning up at him as if she already knows his answer.

"Well," he declares. "I do like these peaches."

And, despite the raging migraine he knows he'll have later, Jareth feels a lightness swell in his chest. Because for now, he can bring comfort from this small but worthwhile hour, joined by his Queen, a peach, and a welcoming sunrise.