Hello beautiful people! I found a minor discrepancy in my story timeline concerning the conditions surrounding Jareth acquiring the throne. If you haven't caught it yet, thanks for not noticing and giving me a break =P I plan on going back and editing some things about the story to make the timeline more consistent. Eventually…

I didn't find anything about the Labyrinth book, so if I missed something call me out on it. It will play a bigger role in the story later.

Thanks for reading, as always. Enjoy some fluff. 3

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Sarah and Jareth sat on a cool, stone bench somewhere within the Labyrinth. Jareth had poofed them there that day; said he needed to get out and away from the castle for a bit. Sarah was glad; so did she. The tall hedges and meant they were probably near the place where she had met Ludo. Sarah hoped there were no Nippers nearby…

The Keepers had tracked down the vandal before the castle guard and even the Fae secret service. It was only an angry Fae who lived within the Goblin City. He was now comfortably—or uncomfortably—situated in a castle cell.

A goblin soldier had found further graffiti in the Goblin City. "Fae Queens only" one had said. "Abovegrounders stay Aboveground" another had said. Both instances were traced to the same Fae, a lesser royal and Lord of not much significance. The Goblin King suspended him over the Bog of Eternal Stench for twenty-four hours and sentenced him to a week in an oubliette. The two days following the appearance of "humans go home" and other graffiti were tense. Today was the first day Sarah felt she was able to relax.

They each licked an ice-pop in comfortable silence. Sarah had shown the kitchen staff how to make them. Using actual, factual sticks from the gardens wasn't that much different than using a popsicle stick. She made sure they'd been properly cleaned.

Jareth's eyes were especially mesmerizing when the light caught them. Sarah took advantage to observe the king while he was preoccupied with his popsicle. Somehow, he was most attractive when he relaxed. For all his handsome, sharp features, when his brow relaxed and the tension melted away, he looked beautiful—even without his trademark smirk.

Jareth caught Sarah looking and met her gaze.

"I wish the sun would never leave her face. She is a marvel to behold," he thought to himself.

"Sarah," he said gently, dropping the bare stick on the ground before the leftover pink and sticky juice reached his fingers. "I'm so happy we're together." It sounded bare to his ears. It sounded empty and lacking. She deserved to be compared to the moon and the sun, but he wanted to share his true feelings, not shower her in pretty words.

He was so happy they were together.

Sarah smiled and cast her gaze down, blushing at the unexpected words of affection. "I'm happy too," she said.

"I want to do this right," he said, reaching out and tucking a strand of her raven hair behind an ear. The contact sent tingles down Sarah's spine. "I want to give you a fresh start."

"Thank you, Jareth." She took his hand in hers. "We can start over, but we can't pretend we don't have history. You know so much about me, but I hardly know anything about you. You had a life before me. I only had a childhood."

"Right," he said breathlessly. He had never really told anyone about himself. Where to start?

"I suppose I should start from the beginning. Respect requires I be honest about my past dalliances and…relationships—though, I truly had no relationships, not until you."

Sarah smiled, but didn't say anything; she wanted to listen. She wanted him to speak. It was time he told her about his life, about his past relationships, and about his triumphs and failures.

Jareth took a deep breath and told her what it was like growing up in the castle. He had always preferred the goblins to his compatriots—at least, to the gentry. He was honest about the galivanting he had done in his youth. Sarah wasn't angry; that was a different man than the one who sat next to her. He spoke delicately about the war years, and Sarah didn't press for more detail. His mother had passed first, and his father soon after. He had been king for more than a hundred years already, and he was the first to occupy the throne room in the Goblin section of the castle; he said he never would've survived spending all day in court. Jareth divulged there were times he attended court no more than once a month—these were his favorite months. When he wasn't directly needed by the gentry, he had spent his days with the goblins, in the Labyrinth, or flying around the Aboveground. He enjoyed his mischief; humans were so easy to trick.

"And then I saw you," he said. "You were the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. Your speeches were like magic. You had all the fire and gumption of a queen. I thought you were like me. I thought you could understand me. You had edges. You were pure strength, courage, and so authentically yourself. When you wished your brother away, it was the happiest day of my life. Or, it was. But this," he said, reaching up to stroke her cheek with his free hand, "is so much better."

Sarah smiled. "It's a good thing that Labyrinth play made its way to me."

Sarah believed every word the Goblin King said. She was so relieved he had actually told her the truth. His life was long and eventful, but she had space to hear it and to forgive.

The nearness of him sent another wave of butterflies through her stomach. She hadn't noticed, but she had leaned in closer to him.

"Jareth…thank you for your honesty."

"You deserve as much, my love."

Sarah's eyes darted down to his lips. They were slender and lightly glossed. He could've been a Greek god carved from pure marble. She looked back into his mismatched eyes, hooded with the faintest glitter. He was a wonder.

Sarah leaned in, initiating the next step she wanted to make, and he met her halfway.

Their lips met. The kiss was soft, yet Jareth swore he could hear the roar of a maelstrom as the blood rushed to his head. His heartbeat quickened its pace, while Sarah's slowed; she felt she had slipped into a timeless, weightless vortex of peace. Jareth pulled back and placed his forehead against hers.

"My love," he said again. He placed a hand behind her neck and they both closed their eyes, reveling in the moment. He kissed her again, this time deepening the kiss. He remained gentle as their mouths worked together. He pulled back and kissed her cheeks, then her chin, then across her forehead as if bestowing her with a crown of his love. She closed her eyes, and he softly kissed her eyelids before returning once more to her mouth. Her lips were full and wet. She gave him a high he could not get from any drug in this world or the next. He put his other hand behind her head, working it into her thick and silky tresses. His kisses gently lapped at her bottom lip, then her top, before he pressed into one final, deep, long kiss.

He pulled back and gazed at the Champion of the Labyrinth. She smiled, her eyes misty with the emotion of it all. She was glorious. Her eyes were like emeralds, her skin like satin. He had to control himself; he felt as if he would shake apart. He cooled the fire that burned within him until they were smoldering embers, burning for her. Yearning for her.

She smiled so sweetly, so innocently back at him.

He must protect her. Even if it was from himself.

She was pure. She was innocent. Her purity and innocence meant in no way she was weak, but she was precious. A precious thing for him to protect—not that she needed it. She could take care of herself, but now she didn't need to. He wanted to do life with her. No against her, not against her will.

Sarah took his hand and rose, pulling him with her. They walked back to the castle hand in hand. The silence between them was heavy with the secret of what had just occurred in a Labyrinth garden.