Disclaimer: As much as I wish it, I do not own the labyrinth or any of its characters.

Chapter four: The Goblin King and Sarah

The Goblin King stood in the doorway and watched Sarah sleep. Anyone else would have noticed and appreciated the ornate double mahogany bed with its intricate carvings, or perhaps the large vaulted ceiling made from stone. But his focus was for what lay on top the thick maroon sheets.

She was only three strides away. In three short steps he could be at her side, he could pick her up in his arms, hold her, kiss her… Three steps. Yet she was so far away.

Even though she was just a ghost of her former self, pale, weak, and secretive, he could not help the quickened beating of his heart. Her ebony black hair flowed around her pale face, past her shoulders like an enchanted waterfall. Thick and dark, like her eyelashes, they were beautiful but a contrast to her sickly pallor. She had lost the adolescent weight around her cheeks and jaw, resulting in a sharper, more dignified structure. His eyes slowly traveled down the delicate lines of her throat…

Sarah…

He closed his eyes, stopping himself from going any further. She was, after all, the one who left his world…left him. Now, apparently, she was willing to repeat that bitter memory.

For the past two days since she awoke, she would not talk to him. She would turn her head to the side, away from him, gazing out the window, avoiding him. It stung. He would have welcomed her outrage in any form to this lethargic evasion. Because then at least he had her attention.

However much he hated her ignoring him, the worst was her continuing goal of trying to kill herself. She did not eat. In all the time he sat by her side, tried to get her to open up to him, she especially avoided him if he brought food of any sort. She would just slowly turn away from him.

The first time she did that he had lost it. Food was strewn in an angry slash across the floor, accompanied by the long, ringing clang of its metal plate trying to right itself. He had yelled, cursed her, slammed his hand on the drawer, and shattered something, though now he couldn't remember what had dropped.

And her reaction…nothing. She did not jump from the noise, did not bat an eye to his outrage, did not do anything except strangely enough, sigh a sigh of what sounded like…relief?

The next day, he mimicked her silence, hoping to coax her with curiosity. Again, failure. The Goblin King was becoming desperate. He could feel her will to live slipping away. He was afraid with each passing day that he would open the door to find her cold and lifeless.

It was the reason he carried two goblets in each hand that morning. Wine would be too strong for her, but perhaps, under the right ministrations, the right words, she would allow juice. A little sugar if at that but it was better than nothing.

He closed the distance between them quietly, his silky black cape trailing his footsteps with a calm majesty.

She never slept well, he noticed. It was always in short fits, as if she were afraid. Even now, as he placed the goblets on the end table and sat in a lavish chair beside her with elegant curved wooden legs, he could see her expression changing. He watched in horrified fascination as within minutes, a light sheen of perspiration flanked across her now knitted brow.

He leaned in closer, his hand reaching out to gently shake her awake. "Sarah," he breathed.

She gasped, her eyes wide, horrified, unseeing. Her hand struck out with a surprising amount of speed and determination. The slap was aimed at his face but it never made contact.

"Sarah?" he asked, puzzled, as the gloved hand tenderly held her bandaged wrist.

Her eyes took on a new form of shock and horror at what she had nearly done. He realized then that she was not attacking him, but some unknown danger in her dream world.

"It's alright," he whispered, lowering his lips to the back of her hand. "You're safe here."

She looked away, avoiding him again, tugging her hand from his. He reluctantly released her from his grasp. The Goblin king suddenly felt alone and empty.

"I understand you do not like me," he sighed, "I can not expect you trust me… not with what I have done to you in the past…but if this is your way of punishing me," he looked at her then with a strange mixture of anger and anguish, "it is more than I can stand."

He could tell his words hurt her. For a second he was ashamed at himself for mentioning anything that brought her new pain. But then Sarah curled in on herself, he could she her back trembling. Something in his resolve snapped.

Damn it! He cried to himself. Without thinking, he grabbed the goblet, took a healthy mouthful, grasped Sarah's shaking form and pressed his lips to hers.

Her eyelashes speckled with tears lifted to reveal a look of shock.

Take it damn you! He mentally cried.

A moment passed.

Then hesitation. He felt her mouth open slightly. The sweet liquid passed between them. Grape she realized.

The juice hit her parched throat with a shocking amount of pleasure, almost as much as the warm lips pressing against her. Sarah was trembling.

The king slowed down his actions as he felt his anger dissipate with the feel of her. He pulled back slightly to lick just the very tip of her bottom lip, before pressing again, coaxing her to reciprocate. She did, opening her mouth just a little, to feel the warmth of him, of all that was the Goblin king. She released a breath she was not aware of holding.

Jareth…

He moaned in the back of his throat. He was about to move on, touching her, tasting her, loving her…she could feel it, in the movement of his body and the emotions flying through the room. She could feel herself falling. She had to stop this before it was too late.

He felt the pressure of her two hands. On his chest. Roughly pushing him away. Sarah's eyes blazed with some unknown realization even as the tears dripped down her face in angry drops.

He would have tried to analyze that look more if her other features weren't so distracting. Her cheeks which were white moments ago actually had some color to them, a blush that suffused all the way down her throat. Her breasts were heaving with each emotional breath, the outlines of her arousal showing through the thin satin blouse, and her hair was now in wavy disarray.

She was stunning.

Sarah's mouth opened. His heart leaped. After two days of recuperating sleep, and another two days of silence, she was about to speak him. The words hit him even before they left her mouth.

"Go away."

A/n: Hi, um I know chapter two was in like first POV but it was really hard to maintain that and keep the story going. So my story has sort of faded to a he said/ she said type of narrative. I hope no one minds. And I'm sorry if I take long but ideas are weird for me, either they come really slow, painfully emerging from nothing, or else they blind side me like someone with a bat. Next chapter: Hoggle to the rescue!