Trigger Warning: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of r*pe and non-consensual choking (Not involving Jareth). Please take care.

1992

At twenty-one, Sarah had blossomed into the woman she had once claimed to be. She radiated a confidence that before was only youthful bravado. Since her botched first kiss experience, she had chosen to steer clear of potential partners. Rather than feeling lonely, she had felt emboldened by her chosen solitude.

She called on her friends from the Underground less, but still reached out to them from time to time when she was feeling like it may have all just been a dream. She didn't call the one person she had wanted to call on the most, however. Part of her doubted their interaction in her childhood bedroom had even happened at all. He had been so kind with her, so uncharacteristically understanding. She thought often of his words, of his affirmations of her own power.

She was sitting in her apartment bedroom one evening, studying a small tattoo on the inside of her wrist, lost in revery; You have no power over me. She smiled at the delicate cursive, silently thanking the Goblin King for his gentle words that had inspired the tattoo.

Suddenly, the phone rang, startling her from her thoughts. Paul was on the other line, inviting her over for drinks. He had shown back up in her life as abruptly as he had left it. He'd been full of apologies and explanations of youthful stupidity. At first, she had rejected his advances, but couldn't ignore the familiar tug for his affections that she'd experienced as a teenager for long. A deep part of her still wanted some kind of approval from him, still wanted him to desire her. Despite her promises to herself that she would keep her distance, she agreed to meet him at his place.

When she arrived, there was wine, roses, and more apologies greeting her. She found herself softening towards him with the more wine she drank, taking notice that he was drinking much more than she, but not caring enough to comment or leave. Instead, she tried to keep up, wanting to calm her nerves at seeing him after so long. After clearing their second bottle of wine, the walls around her started to spin. She looked to Paul in a daze, only to find that he had started undressing her, his hurried movements sweeping her up in both desire and confusion. Before she had enough time to consider how she wanted the rest of the evening's events to go, he was thrusting inside of her roughly, a hand around her throat. She cried out in pain, motionless, unsure of what to do. Her brain struggled to understand what was happening to her body. When the fingers on her neck began to curl painfully, she started to fight him. "No, stop!" she wheezed, gasping for air. His pace only quickened mercilessly at the sound of her pleas. Her mind spun in panic as she felt the energy start to leave her body.

Something began to tickle at the corner of her memory, but she couldn't quite reach it. Then, more firmly, as if placed directly in her mind, she heard: If you need me to take you away, use your right words. She focused hard on trying to pull from the promised power within her, and with the last breath left in her lungs, she croaked, "I wish… the Goblin King… would come and take me away, right… now."

Suddenly, the crushing weight lifted from Sarah's limp body. She was vaguely aware that the pressure from around her throat was gone. The violent pain between her legs was still there, but Paul was not. Her eyes unfocused as her world blackened around the edges. With one last whimper, she slipped into unconsciousness.

"Sarah," a gentle voice soothed from somewhere in the aether. "Sarah, come back to me. Breathe for me."

Her eyes drowsily drifted open before everything from the previous few minutes came crashing back around her. She started to writhe, clutching at her neck, gasping for breath. Panic flooded her mind at the memory of furious thrusting between her thighs. Sobs overtook her, making breathing even more difficult.

"Shh," the voice said nearer to her, sounding more real than it had before. "You're safe now."

She tried to scream, but her throat was so hoarse it only came out as a low wail. Her body flailed and arched in protest at what had been done to her, fighting off the invisible body she was sure was still pinning her.

"Sarah, you are safe," the voice cooed again, "you said your right words."

It took her a moment to realize she wasn't in Paul's bed anymore. She looked around frantically, taking in the large four poster bed she was splayed out on. Sitting on the edge of the bed was the Goblin King, his face full of worry.

As soon as their eyes met, she began to weep anew, unable to control the waves of pain and emotion coursing through her. "Jareth, he—" her words broke off as she searched his face for understanding.

"I know, Precious. I know. It's only me here with you, now. You can take your time." His eyes shone with sadness as he watched her fall apart.

"I'm sorry, I—" she sobbed.

He shifted his body towards her, careful to keep his distance. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, to offer her care, but knew better than to touch her after what had just been done to her. "No, I'm sorry. I should have stopped this."

After a pause, she whispered, "I thought I was being brave, going over there. I thought I had power, I—"

"You are brave," he insisted, wanting to stop her line of thinking, "and you do have power. If you didn't, I wouldn't have been able to come for you."

At his calming words, she started to come down slightly. Still panting through her tears, she became suddenly aware that she was lying naked before him, with her legs spread open as though Paul still pumped between them. She snapped her legs shut in shame and covered herself with her hands. "Oh my god," she whimpered, "this is—"

Jareth moved to stand and asked softly, "Would it be all right if I came closer and covered you with a blanket?"

"Please," she said, shrinking further into the mattress.

He gathered a fur-lined throw from the foot of the bed and cautiously draped it over her, careful not to directly touch her shaking form. He stood at the side of the bed next to her, wanting nothing more than to take her into his arms. This was not the time, and he knew it. Instead, he sat back down on the edge, his body turned towards her again.

Sarah sniffed, rubbing her throat with a pained expression.

He thought his next words through carefully, not wanting to push her. "Can you show me?"

She cautiously moved her hand away, her expression guarded. The red imprints left by greedy fingers were prominent on her neck, and it was evident there would at minimum be significant bruising. His eyes filled with rage, but he leveled his voice. "Oh, Sarah."

Wincing at his sympathy, she declared, "It's not that big of a deal, people do this for fun—"

"Stop. Stop that right now. You don't need to minimize this." Anger ebbed its way into his tone, though it wasn't directed at her. He took measures to calm himself after seeing her alarmed expression. He observed her for a long moment before asking gently, "Were you having fun?"

She blinked at him. "No."

"That is what matters. You did not ask for this. You did not consent. While you may be right, some do take pleasure in asphyxiation during sex, mutual consent is required."

She looked away from him, twisting and untwisting the blanket in her hands, saying nothing.

"May I examine you?"

She shifted, uneasily, unsure of what that meant. He's helped me this far, she thought, deciding to trust him. She allowed her eyes to meet his, and nodded her head.

Jareth leaned over, locking his eyes on hers to take note of any distress at his nearness. When she made no move to object, he hovered his hand over her neck, not quite touching her.

Sarah felt a buzzing energy flow from his palm, dancing across her skin. Her eyes widened, still looking into his.

After a moment, Jareth pulled his hand away and let out a deep breath he hadn't known he was holding. "The damage is there, but it is minimal, thank the gods. There will be bruising and pain for a time." He paused, his expression serious. "But Sarah, it pains me to say it, but he was close to crushing your windpipe. You were right to call for me."

"I didn't know what else to do, I couldn't think. I tried so hard to remember the words, but it was like they were too far away. I had no power, no control—" she tried to explain.

"I sent the words to you, dear one." He admitted, confirming what she had already suspected. "I was so worried you wouldn't hear me. But, despite what was happening to you, you heard me, and still managed to say them. You may not feel as such now, but you are powerful, Sarah. You are stronger than you may think."

Sarah covered her face in her hands, letting out a shaking whimper. "I don't feel so strong right now, Goblin King."

He inched closer a fraction, cautiously gauging her reaction. When she didn't flinch, he quietly asked, "Sarah, may I come closer?"

She stared at him, eyes wide. She was fiercely aware of the way her body was still shaking, her nerves felt like they were on fire. There was a pain between her legs to remind her of the abuses that had been done to her.

"You're safe with me." He encouraged, watching her closely. "I only want to comfort you. You can say no."

She swallowed. "But I'm… I'm a mess. I feel disgusting. I can still feel—"

"You are not disgusting. You are as beautiful as ever," he insisted. "My offer stands. May I hold you?"

Her pulse quickened as she considered him. This was the man she had always dreamed of being close to, albeit under different circumstances. She wanted comfort from him, and he offered it freely. She nodded.

Jareth kneeled on the bed, cautiously crawling towards her. He propped himself up on the pillows beside where she lay. Carefully pulling her into his arms, he threaded his hand through the hair at the back of her head. Tenderly, he guided it to rest on his chest.

The close contact caused a dam to break deep within her. Burying her burning face further into his chest, she began to cry with renewed vigor.

Jareth smoothed her hair. "Talk to me."

"I thought I was dying," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I really couldn't breathe, Jareth."

"I know, Sarah." He brushed his lips against the top of her head. "I know."

"I was so scared. I didn't think I could get the words out. I didn't think you'd be able to hear me." Without thinking, she reached her arm over his chest to bring him closer.

"But you did. And I did," he reassured her, tucking her in against him.

A quiet fell between them as he continued to touch her hair with his gloved fingers. Sarah took a deep breath and relaxed slightly in his embrace, breaking the silence. "Is this when you tell me 'I told you so'?" Her tears fell freely across his chest and she decided she couldn't care. "You warned me not to trust him. I'm so stupid."

He cupped her face and guided her eyes up to his. "This is when I tell you that none of what happened tonight is your fault. You followed your heart, there is no shame in any of it."

"What happens to him? Now that I… disappeared from underneath him and—"

"Shh," he interrupted. "Not to worry, Sarah. He will wake up, alone, with a bludgeoning hangover. He will assume he took his pleasure and you took your leave. Simple as that."

She relaxed a little at those words, still looking in his eyes. "Thank you," she said in a small voice.

He pulled her in a little closer, rubbing tears away from her cheeks with his thumb. "Mmhm."

Her eyes flashed suddenly with a thought. "What happens to me, now that I've wished myself away?"

His chest rumbled beneath her in a mirthless chuckle. "No need to fret, Sarah. There are no tricks here. You can go home as soon as you would like. You need only ask."

Her expression grew skeptical. "Why are you being so generous?"

He sighed and his face became unreadable. He seemed to debate his next words for a long moment, then said, "One day you will understand, Sarah. I have feelings... It's not the time. Just know that my intentions are of the purest quality." He gave her an affectionate little squeeze. "And you are still very young."

She shrunk a little at his last statement. "I thought I was old enough to—" she started, shame flushing her face.

He made a soothing sound to stall her words.

"You didn't err in your choices, Sarah," he said. "Don't confuse the situation further for yourself by placing blame where it does not belong. You endured a traumatic evening at the hands of someone who should have cherished your affections, but instead, abused them. That is not your fault."

Biting her lip, Sarah cast her eyes downwards. "I really did not envision that for my first time."

He froze, horrified. "Gods, Sarah, that was your first experience with sex?"

Shame reddened her features further at his question. "Some power I have, huh?"

He ignored that, and instead said, "Sarah, by the gods, I am so sorry it had to be this way. You deserve so much better."

New tears made their way down her cheeks. "He didn't even kiss me, Jareth. It was like I was just some…conquest. I haven't even had a real kiss in my life. That night you came to my room, that was—" she trailed off.

His eyes searched hers, his hand still holding her face. "Sarah, I promise you, love making is not like that. You'll see, one day, if you so choose. I regret that I called it sex. That was not sex. You are under no obligation to consider that your first time. In fact, I advise against it." He ghosted the pad of his thumb gingerly over her quivering mouth. "And one day, sweetling, you'll find yourself wanting to be kissed, and the person whom you choose will bring the utmost pleasure to your lips."

She stilled in shock at the feeling of his touch against her lips. When she said nothing, he asked, "How are you feeling?" He nodded to the apex of her thighs. "Forgive me, but aside from the obvious hand on your throat, he seemed otherwise… less than gentle."

Her shock was replaced by a deep blush of embarrassment. "Um, yeah, I mean, no. He wasn't gentle. It hurt. It wasn't at all like I thought it would be. I mean, I knew it would hurt a little, but… Jareth, It was like I wasn't even me, like he didn't even know or care that I was there at all."

He stroked her cheek lightly. "Is there still pain?"

"Yes," she whispered, "but it's fine."

He stiffened a bit. "You don't need to do that, Sarah. You don't need to pretend this is fine for me. I loathe that you can still feel any trace of that creature." His tone softened. "A little pain is normal, it will subside."

She glanced down, biting her lip again. When she looked back up into his face and spoke, her voice was braver than she felt. "Maybe you… maybe you could make it better." That brush of his thumb across her lips and promises of fulfilling kisses had ignited something in her that she didn't quite understand. Emotions sparred in her chest. She was desperate to feel something from him, to feel any way other than how she felt. Blood thundered in her ears as she studied him.

Her meaning was clear. His eyes grew dark as his smaller pupil expanded to match the size of the larger one. He took her chin in his long fingers, holding her gaze. "While I am flattered, I refuse to take advantage of you, Sarah."

Sarah's eyes shimmered with the sting of perceived rejection. She tilted up her chin brazenly. "What if I wish it?"

Jareth sighed deeply. "Sarah, hear me, now. It is not as though I have not considered you in that way, but—" He paused, feeling her go rigid in his arms.

"Jareth… I think I am going to be sick."

Before she could say anything else, a copper pot was in front of her and he was leaning her head over it, holding her hair away from her face as she emptied her stomach's contents.

"You're all right," he murmured, soothingly.

Just as she seemed to be finished, pain twinged between her legs and she heaved again.

"Let it go," he coaxed into her ear, rubbing her back with his hand.

When she was finished, he handed her a cloth that seemingly appeared from nowhere just like the pot had. She took it gratefully and wiped her mouth, avoiding his eyes.

"I think I want to go home now."

Just like that, she was tucked in her own bed. The window coverings flapped in the breeze of her open window. She looked around her room for any other sign of him, her gaze falling on a feather and a small scroll resting on the pillow next to her. She touched the feather delicately for a moment, running the plume through her fingers. In spite of herself, she brought it up to her nose and breathed in the scent. It smelled uniquely of him, a scent she hadn't known she was so familiar with until that moment; cedar, spearmint and rosemary. She set the feather on her nightstand and began to unfurl the scroll.

Remember your power, Sarah. Call on me tomorrow, if you so wish. We have things to discuss. -Jareth

A/N: Thank you to those who are reading. I appreciate you.