Hello, dear readers. I wasn't planning for Raemon to make a repeat visit as OCs tend to annoy me and I'd rather just know what Jareth and Sarah were up to *giggles naughtily*. However, he seems to have managed to sneak his way in here somewhere, although he is not going to detract anything from Jareth and Sarah. Promise. He is only there so that Jareth had a reason to be angry. Because angry Jareth is hot and sexy. And we all love hot sexy Jareth. Because that is why we're here right?

Enjoy, please review. xxx

Sarah had dropped off to sleep again after Jareth had left to attend to the business of the day. Warm dreams involving sunshine and Hoggle swam before her eyes. Every now and again Didymus would appear and call out his greetings, before riding off on the back of Ludo, while Ambrosias stared at her and blinked stupidly. Sarah smiled as the sun grew brighter, warming her face. It grew brighter and brighter, the heat increasing until she had to shield her face behind her arms. And then out of the blinding heat strode a figure. Jareth swaggered toward her out of the sun, silhouetted but still easily recognisable. He reached out a hand for her and spoke. But the voice was not his.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm only dancing," Sarah replied, twirling her arms above her head.

"Young American Girl," he murmured, watching her with fascinated eyes. Eyes Sarah now noticed were the same colour, both startlingly blue. Now she looked again, his hair was dark too, and fell forward over those eyes.

Raemon stared at her. "Come with me, little Drowned Girl," he said, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a handful of what looked like sand.

"What's that?" Sarah asked, lowering her arms and spinning on the spot.

"It's the fall of Stardust," he replied, opening his fingers and letting the sand trickle between them. "Ashes to ashes," she heard him murmur.

Sarah paused in her twirling to watch with interest. The sand sprinkled down to land on the scrub land outside the gates of the Labyrinth where they now stood. It gathered together, forming a sphere, turning translucent as a fully formed crystal rose before Sarah's eyes. She stared into its depths. There was a figure in there, dressed in royal robes with its hands crossed over its hips. Jareth spun slowly in the crystal, looking at Sarah with sad eyes. The crystal rose slowly into the air, higher and higher until Sarah could no longer distinguish it from the sky. She looked back at Raemon.

"Where is he going?" she asked. Her voice sounded far away.

"He is going to join his ancestors," replied Raemon. He raised his arm and swept it in an arc and the sky turned dark. The stars shone brightly and Sarah could see one star, travelling upwards by itself to take its place in the heavens.

"No, no," Sarah cried, dropping to her knees and clutching at the bottom of Raemon's cloak. "No, bring him back, bring him back. He said he'd be here when the world falls down. He promised," Sarah sobbed. And then her world was falling in on itself. Raemon's cloak was dragged from her grasp, distance was opening up between them. She was falling.

Sarah opened her eyes. Tears clung to her face and her breath was coming in sobs. She rose and stretched herself before padding through to Jareth's washroom and turning the shower up high. As the hot water pelted down on her she found the memory of her dream was starting to fade. She could no longer remember why she had been so upset. She shook her head, laughing at herself. By the time she stepped out of the shower to wrap herself in a fluffy towel, she had completely forgotten that she had dreamt at all.

Jareth sat in his throne, one leg flung carelessly over the arm. He was scowling at his knees and tap tapping his riding crop against the leather of his boot. He was thinking his way through the paper work that lay on the table in his study, a lone quill the only thing left moving in that room as it scribbled its way across the page under Jareth's command. He thwacked his boot angrily, knowing that he should be doing this work properly, should be sitting in the study and being a good king.

He sighed heavily and reached into his shirt, drawing the source of his distraction out, unfolding the thick parchment and reading again the poisonous green lettering. It was a letter thanking The Lord King Jareth and the Lady Sarah for the immense pleasure afforded at the ball the previous night. And it was from Raemon. Certain phrases jumped out to Jareth's jealous eyes.

"Congratulate you on the impeccable figure of your wife," he spat, "I was afforded much chance to delight in it as she pressed herself against me. I hope she enjoys her sweet dreams." Jareth glowered, "You, dear cousin, have gone one step too far."

Jareth sprang to his feet, hurling his riding whip at an unfortunate goblin that had entered to ask him to approve the luncheon menu. How dare Raemon interfere with Sarah's dreams? It was the only magic he could do, but still. Sarah was his. Staring coldly at the whimpering goblin as it moaned and clutched its eye, he faded angrily from the room.

Sarah had managed to find her way back to the study. It hadn't been easy as she had managed to get stuck in the stairways of optical illusions. She had had to breathe deeply and count to ten more than once before she had found her way out, and it was only with the help of a passing goblin cleaner, who had been hurrying along with a stray chicken clutched under his arm, that she had found he correct door at all.

She was sitting in one of the leather armchairs, watching with interest the quill that was jumping and scratching all on its own. She wondered where Jareth was, for surely it was he who was controlling this quill, she reasoned. So why wasn't he here? All at once the quill, which up until now had been writing neatly in a regal purple, spluttered and the ink turned blood red. It scratched across the neat page of accounts in any angry jag, ripping through the parchment and scoring the desk below. Sarah jumped in shock. Something must have really angered Jareth for him to lose control like that. She looked towards the door, wondering whether she should find him and ask him what was wrong, only to see him standing before her, glowering something terrible. She opened her mouth to speak but he cut across her.

"To whom do you belong?" he demanded. "Who is your Lord? Who is the one you love?"

His voice rang from all sides, as though disconnected from the whereabouts of his body. He advanced towards her, anger in his eyes. Sarah thought back. She had done nothing to anger him so, not that she could recall. It followed logically that she was merely feeling the brunt of an anger conjured by someone else. She drew courage from this thought, and forced herself to meet his gaze steadily.

"You," she answered. "You to all three."

"Good," he snarled. "Prove it."

He advanced towards her, undoing the front of his breeches. Taking himself in one hand he reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair, dragging her to the edge of her seat and forcing himself into her mouth. He tangled his other hand into hair, setting the pace and controlling her head as he pumped himself deep into her mouth. Sarah felt herself gagging as he struck the back of her throat, pushing himself further. She concentrated on relaxing, keeping her tongue swirling against him as he worked off his anger on her. He forced himself deeper.

"Swallow," he commanded, and Sarah did her best, the peristalsis where it started at the back of her throat squeezing and massaging him. Jareth groaned, letting his head fall back at the sensation, before recommencing his merciless thrust into her willing mouth. As he withdrew slightly Sarah took the opportunity run her tongue along the underside of his manhood, bringing it up to tease the slit on the end. Jareth tightened his hold in her hair, pushing her head into himself a few more times before he came with a violence stemmed in anger. This time he spared no thoughts for Sarah's feelings as he held her head in place, keeping himself encased in her hot mouth and forcing her to gulp down as much of him as she could.

As the last flutters of his orgasm died away, Jareth wrenched himself from her, ripping his hands away to do up his breeches. He swung over to the desk and tore the sheet of parchment away, crumpling it into a ball and hurling it into the fire. He spun on his heal, turning to face her as she sat panting for breath.

He spat, "I'm going to fetch Raemon," before disappearing from the room.

Sarah curled her legs up underneath her on the chair and wiped her mouth. She leant back, pondering. Raemon. Raemon. For some reason she felt she had a cause to be angry at him too. And then her dream came flooding back.

Sarah rose and crossed to the door. Opening she looked up and down the corridor, wondering which way could lead her to the throne room. She wanted to be there when Jareth returned.

Ok, ok. Yeah I know, rubbish chapter ending, with not much happening the chapter. Much more to look forward to...and Jareth has found his riding whip. Woohoo!