At first, there was light. She understood that this was new, as there had only been nothing for a long time.
Not darkness.
Not light.
Nothing.
After the light, something else new came. The faint strains of music, of laughter. She had heard these things before. The girl tilted her head inquisitively, trying to catch some more of the elusive noise.
Shapes began to form from the light, flickering to and from. The girl watched with some interest and before she knew it people, dressed in deep purples, blood reds, navy blues, crushed oranges, sickly yellows, olive greens and every other colour on the spectrum.
Glancing down at her arms, she saw that she was dressed head to toe in white, silver glinting and threading it's way through her ensemble too.
It was all very strange, she thought to herself as she wandered through the crowds. It was too hazy. The light too soft, the shadows too dark, the colours too deep.
She was certain there had been something before this ballroom but if one were to ask, then she would say that she had been there her whole life. That she had never once left these walls draped in silver satin and silk, yet by the same notion, if someone were to ask her (which no-one would because they were all to preoccupied for the likes of her) what grass was, she could have easily replied that grass was green and fresh, it was what cows ate in the springtime and she had fond memories of grass, despite not specifically remembering any.
It was all very puzzling.
A woman in a red dress held up purely against the laws of gravity brushed passed her hurriedly and the girl's eyes trailed after her.
She caught a flash of royal blue between the shifting masses. She knew it was important, so she followed it.
Part of Jareth realised that he was being exceedingly foolish. No doubt his kingdom was going to ruin, though he very much doubted the goblins had noticed anything out of the ordinary.
Recently he had been so eager to sleep and join her in this dream world they shared that he would skip his evening meal. Then, the next morning, he would sleep late and miss breakfast. His cheeks were becoming sallow, his face was drawn and pale and yet... and yet it did not matter while she stared up at him with such devotion and awe.
Waking hours were a mere burden which he had to face before returning to his Sarah.
He pulled her a little closer, watching blush and smile sweetly up at him in the same fashion a hawk watches a rabbit.
Gods above she was beautiful.
And she was his.
The first few weeks they had danced, nothing else, but four and a half weeks in she had asked, rather nervously, who he was. At first, he had been furious and had left, vowing never to return to her. But after torturing that blasted Hogbrain he had learnt that after that peach the dwarf gave her, she didn't recall any of her previous life with him. It was agonising, and yet, it was perfect.
And after the first time he had returned, he was more than happy to come back night after night after night. Mostly due to the fact Sarah had flung herself into his arms and begged... begged him never to leave her again.
Over the months and seasons, he fed her little tibits of informations, small half truths and white lies.
He was a King.
She was his bride.
This was their wedding ball.
"Why else would you be wearing a wedding gown, my darling?" He'd asked her with a smile.
Sarah nodded slightly as if trying to reassure herself that it made sense.
"Yes, you must be right, Why else would I be wearing a wedding gown?" She had said more to herself than to him.
She was so eager to please, so concerned that her forgetfulness had upset him that she neglected to ask even the smallest detail about herself. She didn't know her name, and he didn't press her for it. She wasn't aware that she had a mother or a father, she simply was, and by all means that worked for him.
So they danced, until the clock told him it was time to leave and then he would return and the cycle would repeat in a downward spiral as the masquerade goers slowly grew more drunk on lust.
Sarah however did something peculiar this time around. He should have expected it. His girl was anything but ordinary.
It took everything within the Goblin King's power not to shudder as her arms looped around his neck, her fingers momentarily grazing against the skin there.
She must have been standing on tip-toe as he could almost see eye to eye. She had such stunning eyes. She was stunning. She was his.
"I love you, my King."
Quickly, as if fearing being rebuked for her actions, she pressed her mouth against his. Adrenaline soared through his veins, higher and faster than he had ever soared as an owl. She had come to him? This was truly happening? Perhaps he wasn't in the shared dreamworld, but rather, had slipped into one of his own fantasies. He had wanted this for so long, that it would make sense. It was usually him who reacted in such a way, not her.
The most truly amazing Kiss ended much before he wanted it to.
It had spanned perhaps three-seconds.
As the rather astounded Jareth watched her dimple and duck her blushing head towards her feet, he contemplated the possible merits of throwing her on the floor and having her then and there. It was his right, was it not? For all means and purposes he was her husband and she, his wife.
And she... she wanted him. Though the dwarf claimed she wouldn't know her own brother if she happened to pass by but... She had sought after him. On the very first day, she had come to him.
He let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.
He realised what he wanted now, what he needed.
He cast a glance at the clock hanging from the wall. What of it if he was an hour of two late this morning? It was not as if he had anything better to do.
Just as he had all those nights ago at her birthday, The Goblin King quickly led her off the floor.
Large, innocent eyes looked up at him hopefully.
"You're not leaving yet?"
Jareth drew the girl into an alcove lined with mirrors hidden behind a heavy silver curtain, pulling her flush against his body so they could both fit in the crevice. Although he missed the warmth of her lips, her body against his was still doing a suitable job.
"After that little display?" He purred, reaching out a trembling hand to stroke the curve of her cheek "My sweet, I think not."
They were so close that her breath tickled against his cheek. In all honesty, her dress was simply to large to fit comfortably. Jareth smirked, he'd just have to dispose of it then.
He began to close the already minuscule gap. There was nothing to stop him this time.
No idiotic boys playing hero.
No simpering step-mothers.
Nothing at all to distract Sarah as his lips tenderly collided with hers. It was all he could do not to groan into her mouth when she uncertainly knotted her finger's in his hair. She was responding, slowly but oh so very surely, she was responding. He had her pressed against the wall now, swallowing her incoherent pants and keening with his mouth.
Nearly surprising himself with his own gentleness, he softly murmured encouragement into her lips so that he wouldn't frighten her, his fingers working deftly on the fastenings on the back of her dress. He didn't want her to pull away and he didn't want her to be scared off.
He moaned when she did pulled away from him with a small whimper of surprise.
"Please, I don't... What I mean to say is..." She stared at him beseechingly, almost enough to make him feel guilt for what he was about to do. "Please, what are you doing?"
He shifted slightly so that she would be able to feel that weight of his hips against hers, rubbing her back soothingly until she relaxed against him. He shuddered this time, when his Sarah sighed softly against his neck.
"Shhh..." his hand dipped a little lower on her back, "You can trust me, my precious. I promise."
The Goblin King would have to edge along slowly now. Gently, softly. He didn't want her to run.
Keeping eye contact with her, he slowly lowered his head to her neck, hands still softly stroking her back, her hips, her waist. Anywhere he could reach.
His heart surged against his chest when his lips smiled against her neck feeling her pulse fluttering against him, nuzzling and sucking in adoration.
He freed his hands long enough to discard his jacket before pulling her dress a little lower. He felt her squirming so he cupped her beautiful face in his hands, skimming his thumbs back and forth reassuringly. He lightly brush his lips against hers, before making his way towards her increasingly uncovered breasts.
She was flawless.
He flicked his tongue between the crevice of her breasts, trying not to smirk when her pink little mouth silently fell open in a perfect 'O.' She writhed against the wall, making small mewling noises.
Good. She wanted him. He was close now. All he had to do wa-
"I wish the Goblin King would come and take you away. Right now."
Jareth growled low in his throat at the familiar tug in his stomach. Of all the times! He would destroy whoever had wished this time. He swore it.
The Goblin King clasped one of Sarah's small hands within his own.
"I shall return to you my precious." He said brushing lips against her hand, "Until then, Stay Here." He put a bit of command behind his over-wise sweet tone.
Without a further glance he spun on his heel, tugging his gloves ruefully back in place. Whoever it was who had called on him was about to have their guts made into Sarah's garters.
The girl peered at the yellowing glass that was spotted with age. There was something about mirrors... Something important. She ran her fingernail along a crack in the glass.
"If I ever need you... I'll call."
A/N: And that folks is the closest you're ever going to get to sex in this fic. Mostly for underage reasons.
I swear this entire thing is just me cock blocking Jareth.
But now we must ponder the question, 'If you had sex in a peach induced dream orgy, did you really have sex at all?"
