Chapter Seven

Jareth splayed fingers along her bare stomach, and Sarah made a small noise, her awareness beginning to come around as lips trailed along her collarbone. Fine hair tickled the skin of her neck and chest. Her eyes fluttered open to find weak blue-tinged dawn sunlight filling the bedroom.

And the Goblin King was kissing down her belly, hands parting her thighs. She gasped when his mouth came down on her core, tongue teasing her lips apart before dipping and stroking against her clit. "Fuck!" she cried, legs shaking as he feasted upon her.

Jareth took his time. Coaxed her, teased her, and brought her to crashing orgasm not just once but thrice before he pulled back, looking intensely satisfied and raw, his lips and chin glistening. He grinned at her, his cock standing tall between them. "More?"

Panting, Sarah could only nod.

Jareth grasped her hips and pulled her closer, flipping her so that her ass was raised toward him. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, palms rubbing her cheeks and hips. Fingers dipped into her, and he made a satisfied sound. "And always so incredibly wet."

"For you," she said, pressing back against that pressure. It was not enough.

He chuckled, prodding at her entrance with the head of his cock. She moaned at the pressure. "Is that so precious? Are you wet—" he began to press into her. "Only for me?" He seated in her, his hands rubbing along her hips and waist and thighs, gripping her tight.

Sarah writhed, and her hips moved, fucking him as surely as he was about to fuck her. "Gods," she gasped. "You know it, Jareth, please…"

Her words trailed off with a moan as he began to rock into her, increasing their friction. He began to take her, his body bending over hers as his hips crashed against her ass again and again.

Sarah cried his name, and Jareth snarled. She knew that he liked it, and she did it again, his tightening grip the only precursor she had to the sudden increase in wetness between her thighs.

But he did not stop, even as he came panting, his cock still thick between her thighs. "I know you have more for me," he whispered, and she whimpered as he left her for a moment before he pulled her to the edge of the bed.

Sarah stopped him when he was standing, and she was still sitting on the edge of the mattress, her mouth wrapping around his cock and sucking him clean of their combined spend. Jareth petted her hair while she licked him, whispering sweet words, telling her how much he liked seeing her lips around him.

She had never been spoken to like this. Never treated thus.

Jareth pulled her to a shaking stand, his hand plunging into her hair to tilt her face to his. His mouth slanted over hers, tongue tasting and twining. She wrapped her arms around his neck and was startled when he moved to lift her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist, the heated press of him thick between them.

"How are you still hard?" she whispered when they broke apart.

He slid along her folds, and she wiggled. "How are you still wet?" he retorted. "Because we are meant to do this, precious. You were destined for me. I believe that."

She shook her head, but he did not seem interested in discussing anything. He walked them to the wall nearest the window, pressing her against the folds of the drapes that hung there. Her next cries he smothered with his mouth, all while fucking her in sight of the gardens and the twisting walls of the Labyrinth beyond. Sarah wrapped her legs around him and squeezed tight, causing him to gasp.

Palming a breast, Jareth ground into her several more times before going still. She could sense his end, and it gave her over to her own. Shuddering, she stared at the painted and carved ceiling, chest heaving.

"Okay," Sarah breathed, licking her lips. "I need to go to the bathroom. And get water. I love—this, but I need a break."

"Of course, precious," he murmured, kissing her neck before grazing the flesh with his teeth, pulling back with a smile. "I'm afraid you have quite the grip on me."

Sarah laughed and relaxed, allowing him to slip from her. He steadied her as she got back on her feet, legs trembling from exertion and the remnants of multiple orgasms. This was new, too. The consideration. Knowing that she might need his help and giving it without being asked.

She pulled away from him before her thoughts led to something else that would have them in a tangled heap. There was a little wobble to her step as she went to the bathroom, but she was steady by the time she returned.

Jareth had a tray of coffee waiting, lounging naked as he took his own with three cubes of sugar.

"Sweet tooth?" she teased, fixing her own without going for a robe or other covering first. She was more conscious of it than she expected he was, but she enjoyed his eyes on her. And they were, his gaze fixed over the rim of his still cup.

The Goblin King shook himself and drained the rest of his drink before setting it down and springing to his feet. "How do you feel about jewelry?"

She fingered the pendant at her breastbone. "Other than this, I haven't worn anything since giving up my ring and bracelet when running the Labyrinth. People have given me pieces over the years, but none of it was… it did not spark my interest."

That seemed to spark his. "A taste for the luxurious, my love?" She startled a little at the affectation, but he continued like he did not notice, though she did not doubt he had. "I want to show you the treasury and let you pick from it a gift. I want to see what interests you so I know what to give you in the future. It's also where I keep the best copy of the prophecy pertaining to you."

Sarah perked up at that. "You're going to show it to me?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I? If you are not willingly doing this, it will not work. You must know everything, and to that end, I intend to tell you all." He smiled. "Though, there are other things to occupy some of our time, don't you think?"

She flushed, setting her half-drunk coffee down on the table before stepping up to him and placing a palm on his chest. "You're the one," she slid her hair over her shoulder, looking up at him as she did so. "Who keeps starting things? I'm only human."

"And you cannot help but succumb because I am too fae, too exotic and erotic to resist?" He lifted a brow. "Please. I saw you through the years, Sarah. You had many who sought your attentions."

She blinked. "Who? I've only had two lovers."

Now, it was his turn to look confused. "Only two?"

"And one was a one-night stand. He ghosted me afterward." She explained at Jareth's confused look, "He stopped responding, completely disappeared out of my life. I never saw him or spoke to him after we had sex." Her fingers flexed against his flesh, and she dropped her hand, brushing against his talisman as she did. There was a thrum of responding magic, and she tilted her head. "Did you have anything to do with that?"

"No, precious one. I would not have intentionally caused you pain," Jareth murmured, cupping her face with one hand while pulling her closer with the other. "I cannot fathom it. You are stunning. The rarest of jewels." His expression darkened. "Who were they?"

"I'm not giving you their names so you can go on some kind of male revenge fantasy against them." She smiled despite her words and twirled a lock of his hair with her finger. "Maybe it's a good thing. It makes me appreciate you all the more."

He flashed a smile. "I have hardly given you the attention and time you deserve, Sarah mine. But, the gods willing, that will change."

They did end up in a tangled heap, after all. Sarah was the one who started it this time, catching his mouth and holding him tight against her. When he thickened between them, she went to her knees and took him in her mouth until he begged her to stop, to let him take her.

Sarah had never felt so wanted. Never so full.

He sat on one of the wingback chairs while she straddled him back to front, and he held her while she squirmed over him. His fingers caressed her, his voice hot in her ear, and his length pressed so deep she thought she might come apart entirely. She came several times before his end was upon them, and he gripped her tight, flexing within her sore and swollen depths.

She swore softly, then started to laugh. "I've had sex with you more times than the rest of my life combined."

Jareth grunted. "I feel as though I should offer you a variety of known skilled lovers so that you can taste the delights to be had with them." His grip tightened further. "But I will not. I am yours, yes, but you are mine."

Sarah wiggled until he released her enough so she could turn, straddling his waist, her hands on his shoulders. She stared at him from inches away as he looked up at her, his expression almost… expectant. She breathed deeply, smelling the scent of their coupling. Magic and sweat and something wholly the two of them. Thumb brushing the side of his neck, she swallowed hard, then asked, "Do you love me?"

That damned head tilt. "What do you think?"

She frowned at him. "A straight answer, please?"

He sighed. "Very well." His hands traveled from her hips to her waist, settling there. "Of course I love you," he said, the words soft. "What no one knew—but too many people know—is that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl. Isn't that what was written in your playbook?"

"That's just a book," she pointed out. "And I didn't know until yesterday that it had come from here. From you. Why would you send me something that admitted such a thing?"

"Because I sent you what, to me, was a blank book. It filled the moment you touched it with the story that would draw you to the Underground. That was what it was spelled to do." He squeezed her waist. "And you, my dear girl, needed to know you had power and were loved. Even if it were forbidden and from afar. That it happened to be true, well, that's my fault. I saw your heart and could not help but want it."

Jareth placed a hand over her heart, pressing down, his fingertips brushing her pendant and sending sparks of sensation through it. She watched him, but his gaze was on her chest.

"Sorrow and heartache draw a fae like the sweetest wine," he murmured. "And you have it in spades. Even though so many were around you, you were almost always considered last. Always alone."

She tensed, and he made a shushing noise, rubbing a hand up and down her arm, the motion soothing.

"No more, beloved," he promised, finally rolling his eyes to look at her. "I will ensure you know where you stand now and for as long as you'll have me. You have possessed me, thought and spirit, human though you may be. I would have no other. And I will crown you queen at my side, as the Labyrinth wants you, too. As do our people. You are meant to be adored and feared. And, yes, to be clear, I do love you."

Sarah pressed a shaking kiss to his lips, his hand still pressed to her chest. Her heart beat hard against that pressure, and she could feel her pulse in her mouth against his. "What would you do with this?" she whispered when she pulled away, hand over his to accentuate her point.

He glanced back down to where her chest heaved from their activities. "Treasure that it is? I would nurture this heart, precious, and watch as it beat with joy and lust, love and adventure, instead of in sorrow and mourning." He licked his lips, and something in his expression changed. "Let me take some of it from you, Sarah. I would drink your grief, old and new. I'll take only a little, so you know what it might be if lifted entirely."

It seemed strange to her that any creature, fae or otherwise, would hold so much reverence for the darker parts of her memory and nature. Tilting her head, mirroring his previous movements, Sarah asked, "What about the grief that calls to you?"

He made a small noise. "Do you know how many have died that I have known? Few, Sarah. In more than two thousand years, I have been touched by grief just once. It is a rarity, and we prize what is rare." His blunted nails pressed into her skin. "It is why many fae have lost their heads for humans over the centuries. You burn so bright, so fierce, we cannot help but want to get closer, no matter the danger."

"What danger is that?"

"To love the temporary." He grinned. "That's why I have your mortality. One of the reasons. I do not want you to expire when I am so invested."

She chuffed, fingers exploring where he still held her heart, tracing the seams and knuckles of his hand, the motion subconscious. "I don't know if I believe you."

"Would I lie?"

This time, she laughed. "There are stories in my world that the fae cannot lie, but that sounds like something the fae would make up to make dealing with us a little easier. So, yes, I think you can lie. Are you going to tell me you don't?"

"I try to avoid it." He said, smiling still. "Honesty keeps things simple. I have lived long and done many things. To lie about any of them would complicate much." His free hand caressed her waist. "I am not lying when I tell you how I feel about you. I adore you. Now," he pressed even more against her chest. "Will you let me take of your sorrow?"

She held her breath for a moment, considering. Then said, "Just a bit."

"Only a sip, precious one."

Jareth leaned forward, his lips ghosting along her throat. She tensed, thinking he was going to bite her, but instead, he lay an open-mouth kiss, and when he pulled back—

A gossamer-thin thread linked him to her, from his mouth to her neck. It shimmered like ink and liquid gold, but before she could examine it further, he sucked it into his mouth, and she—

The relief.

Sarah sagged against him, and his arms were around her as tears coursed down her cheeks. There had been a pressure, a lump in her throat for years, ever since Toby, and now, it was like she could breathe again. Swallow freely. Each lungful of air was sweet, pure, and—oh. Oh. She could sense it now, where her body held onto her pain, and every inch of it cried out for that same reprieve.

"Are you alright, love?" Jareth whispered, his words slightly slurred but his grip just as tight. "It was just a little, I promise."

"I know," she breathed through her tears. Despite that, they fell. She was light. Lighter than she had any right to be. "I want it all gone, Jareth, but… not yet."

She did not know why, only that she could not part with her grief all at once. It seemed wrong.

He hummed and swayed a little.

Pulling back, Sarah frowned at the sloppy grin Jareth flashed her. "Were you being serious? This stuff makes you drunk?"

"Oh. Yes," he said, enunciating his words slowly. "Quite. But I still want to show you the treasury and the prophecy. I am not so far gone as that." He blinked heavily. "My gods and this was only a sip."

Sarah slid off his lap, her legs steady enough to support her. "What does it feel like?"

His eyes roved up her body, and she flushed. He was sprawled back in the chair, his cock stiffening as she watched. All the while, his gaze assessed her. He held out a hand. "Come back here, lover. I want to be inside you again."

Something about those words made her knees weak and her mouth dry. "I thought a king had many duties," she said, staying still. "Isn't this keeping you from them?"

"Damn my duties," he said with a slight slur, waving his hand dismissively. "I can be spared for a morning, Sarah mine." He beckoned to her. "Come here."

She did, and by the time he was done with her, she was sprawled across the bed, wet to her knees and panting. Her heart thundered, and without a word, she returned to the bathroom, taking some time in his bath to ease her sore muscles. This had been more combined physical exertion than anything she had experienced since moving back in with Karen. Before then, Sarah had been an avid runner, but there had never seemed to be the time.

Now, she was feeling the lack.

Able to submerge herself fully in the water, Sarah did so several times, floating up to the surface and finding Jareth stepping into the massive tub. It was more of a pool.

"It's beginning to wear off, or I'm becoming accustomed to the sensation," Jareth said, sinking much like she until he was covered up to his neck. His white-blonde hair turned dark at the water's touch. "Thank you for allowing me that time."

She gave him a raised brow. "You're thanking me? I think I've come a dozen times this morning." Shaking her head, Sarah laughed. "Life has never felt this… decadent."

Jareth growled approvingly, then sank fully beneath the water, emerging a moment later much closer to her, his hands slipping around her waist. Dripping, he leaned in. The kiss was wet, warm, and tasted so precisely of him that she moaned and started to press against him.

Laughing, Jareth held her back. "Your body needs the rest, lover, even if you're still—"

"Aroused?" she breathed. "Turned on? You bet." She had never felt this way. Insatiable was a word for it. He was as potent as a drug.

But he kept them apart, thumbs rubbing soothingly against her shoulders. "We have time, love."

You might, she thought. Not me.

The thought was sobering, and she moved out of the tub, wrapping a drying sheet around her sopping hair and then herself. Jareth floated in the pool, looking at ease as he watched her.

Sarah needed to see the prophecy. Hearing from others that she was part of something was one thing. It was something entirely different to study the pertinent text herself.

Holding on to these thoughts, she moved into her closet and stood momentarily, considering her options. Jareth had provided her with clothes for every occasion, including a full suit of steel-reinforced leather armor. And something that looked suspiciously like the same shimmering opalescent gown she had worn to the ball during her initial run. The puffy sleeves looked terribly outdated, and she turned from the more formal side of the room. She ended up in a black silk blouse with a plunging neckline, black leather pants, and tall black boots. The sleeves were long and cuffed at the wrist, more silk and lace flowing from it to cover the backs of her hands. She removed her hair from its wrap and quickly put it up to keep the wet strands off the fabric.

There was an appreciative noise behind her, and Sarah turned to find Jareth watching her. He was dressed similarly to her, though he had chosen a royal blue vest with black vines embroidered. His hair was dry, and, with a snap of his fingers, she felt her own lighten and the subtle smell of magic.

"You are a vision," he said. "And I have a request."

She crossed to him, trailing fingers up the exposed portion of his chest. "What's that?"

"After you have read the prophecy, would you take a meal with me?"

Sarah blinked, realizing that though they had coffee, they had never eaten together. She flushed. It sounded more date-like than what she would have been entirely comfortable with even a few days ago, but now? "What did you have in mind?"

"We could have something brought here or sup in one of the dining halls, though that may be less private. I will warn goblins do not make the most obedient of subjects. Closed doors mean little to them."

Sarah nodded and took his arm when he offered it. "I would like that."

Jareth led them out of the bedroom and passed the guards, who did not move beyond stiffening to attention as they passed.

Though she had more questions for him, Sarah relaxed into the walk and in being able to touch him so casually. Jareth was handsome by any standard, and the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention? It made her stomach flutter, and things low in her gut clenched with anticipation and need.

They passed fewer people than yesterday on Sarah's way to the audience hall, but she supposed that Jareth wasn't hosting an entire contingent of magical beings today. Also, after they passed through the gallery forest hallway, he veered them left into a narrow hall with doors spaced very far apart on one side and wide-arched windows on the other. Some led to balconies overlooking gardens and courtyards.

Though it was a relatively chilly day, some windows were thrown open. The croak of ravens and the crow of roosters pierced the air. Large shade trees hosted red-wing blackbirds. High above, where she could not see, there was the scream of a hawk. The other birds fell briefly silent.

To the other side, between doors and along the walls, were tapestries depicting battle and group scenes, more oil paintings, large and postage-stamp small, all in ornate frames.

"I've never seen so much art before," Sarah said as Jareth pulled her down a spiral staircase. "Is all of this yours?"

"Most of it," he said. "More sculptures were here when I arrived, though I commissioned a few."

They descended several levels until the air was chilly, and her skin pricked with gooseflesh. It was dry-smelling, but there was no more art on the walls as he led her through another hall leading deeper under the castle. There were no windows here, only the pale tan walls and torches set every few feet to cast light along the way.

When they approached the double doors at the end of the hall, Sarah was shocked to see no guards. "Why isn't it guarded?"

Jareth held her back. "Stay here, and I'll show you."

He approached the massive iron doors, studded with three-inch spikes, and lay his hand on the seam.

A glow flowed outward from his touch, and instead of opening the door, it dissolved into liquid metal, running in a rivulet along a channel cut into the floor. The scent of it was profound. Jareth motioned her forward.

"Quickly," he said. "A new one will form within a moment."

Sarah hastened her footsteps and crossed the threshold. Her heart hammering, she only had a moment to take in the glitter of gold—gold everywhere—when there was a roaring from behind her. She jumped, turning, and found a torrent of liquid metal pouring from the eave of the doorway. A moment later, a door latticed with a spiked floral motif was cooling before her eyes.

She glanced at him. "So if I or someone other than you were to touch that door?"

He grinned at her. "Look around, Sarah."

She did, and her breath caught.

The ceiling soared several stories up, and all along the edges of the massive stadium-sized space were bookshelves crammed with glittering, leather-bound tomes.

And everywhere in between, in rows and rows like some great library, were shelves and racks of treasure.

Suits of armor made of pure silver and gold, an entire battalion's worth.

Chalices studded with jewels, heaps of loose and brilliantly cut rubies, diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, and more.

Everywhere, the light—which seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere—shone and glinted on a million gleaming surfaces. The entire room danced with wealth. It glowed.

She had never seen its like. She did not think such a thing existed in the world Above.

Jareth hummed and wandered down one of the thickly carpeted aisles, walking backward with his hands in his pockets. "The prophecy is this way."

Sarah hurried after him. "But what would happen if someone else touched that door?"

He made a clicking sound with his tongue and turned around, so he walked forward, quickening his pace. "The way I laid the spell was that anyone not of my blood would meet with an immediate death. I have not checked how the door dispatches trespassers, but there have been none since its installation. Whereas when there were guards, we had break-ins fairly regularly."

Sarah was listening, but she also paused as they passed a display cabinet filled with Faberge eggs of exquisite detail, their jeweled and enameled sides depicting scenes from a European winter.

"Is that your gift then, precious?" Jareth asked, his voice closer than she anticipated.

She jumped. "No, I don't think so," she said, smiling at him. "I just remember seeing photos of these in college, but I've never seen one up close. They're beautiful."

"One of the few collections from the Above. I took several in payment for Anastasia."

Sarah blinked. "You mean to say that you took a member of Russian royalty into the Underground?"

"Yes," he said. "I have several of your famous missing or presumed dead. Remind me to introduce you to Earheart." He offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

Jareth led her to a fairly open space, ringed with shelves of books, but at the center on a pedestal was a glass case containing a single scroll. He led her to it.

"I want to see how much of this you may be able to understand without my help," he said. "Let me know if you get stuck."

Sarah waited while Jareth used a small golden key to unlock the case and swing it open, stepping aside to let her have access.

She had gone to museums over the years and traveled a little, but Sarah had never looked at something quite like this. The scroll was clasped to jeweled golden rollers and spread open on an illuminated page filled with scrawling ink marks that seemed as dark as the day it was set.

At first, the markings made no sense. They were beautiful and some sort of language, but she could not make heads or tails from the letters.

She reached out and then hesitated, glancing at Jareth. He nodded. "You can touch it."

The moment her fingertips brushed the parchment, the words seemed to shift. Form into English that she could read easily, even if the language were a bit archaic.

She began to read what she could aloud.

"In the dawn of Faerie, Above and Below, we offer blood & spirit in equal measure

Seed the land with magic abundant

There are those who will seek to control its ebb and flow

Their victory signaling ten thousand years of control

In the hours before sunrise and under the triple goddess stars

Born of both worlds and belonging to none

The unconquerable will be seized both in deed and heart

And the land will give the victor means to change

Through change there will be trials

But at the head of a great serpent, the one chosen shall strike

Speaking words of power at the seat of power

Pulling forth the shift that will bring abundance."

Sarah tongued a small blister that had formed at the roof of her mouth as she spoke. She could taste magic on her lips.

Jareth pulled her hand away from the scroll, closed the case, and locked it again, tucking the key into a pocket on his vest. He did not look at her as he did so but kept hold of her hand, his fingers gently entwining with hers. "Now, we'll see how much you will retain in the coming hours."

"Like the goblins and Hoggle? How they can't remember the words?" But she could. Each of them burned bright in her mind like they had been written with molten gold.

"Precisely," he whispered, pulling her in for an embrace that she returned before pulling back and offering her a wide smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "Now. Your gift."

"What's wrong?" she asked instead.

He sighed. "It is lonely, being the only one in this kingdom who can remember the words, who has a true grasp on what this all means. I am worried that you will forget."

"The land will give the victor means to change," she quoted. "That bit is about the wishes I was granted, isn't it?"

"Yes, love." His smile brightened a little. "And you still want to use one of yours to help your friends, isn't that so?"

"Yes," she breathed, her chest swelling with emotion. "Can you help me find the right words?"

He looped her arm in his and pulled her deeper into the treasury. "Ask for them to be freed of enchantments. That should do the trick."

Sarah chewed on her words momentarily, then said clearly, "I wish my friends were all free of enchantment."

Nothing in her indicated that a wish had been fulfilled, but Jareth made a little gasping sound and paused in their walk. "Well, that was interesting."

"What is it?"

"When the spellwork broke, it did so… I have had my spells counteracted before, but never so cleanly, so perfectly. It was as though it had never been in the first place." He gazed at her, and there was wonder in his eyes. "You truly have been given a marvelous gift, precious."

"With eleven more to go."

"Ten," he corrected. "You mustn't use that last one until you're at the wellspring."

"I know," she said, tugging him along. Her eye had caught on something spectacular in one of the display cases. "But they're free? It worked?"

"Yes, Sarah. You should be seeing them soon."

She pressed her palm to the glass of the cabinet where many tiered rows of glittering rings were arranged. One, smaller than the rest but finely made, had caught her attention and held it. "That one," she said, pointing and feeling a bit like a kid in a candy store. He was right. It was not that she had no fondness for jewelry, just that none of it had spoken to her before now. What Jareth had on hand, however? She wanted to play dress-up for days.

Jareth opened the case and plucked the ring from its pad without being guided. "I had a feeling you would have interesting taste."

Before she could take it from him, Jareth grasped her left hand, sliding the silver band onto her ring finger. The star sapphire gleamed in the center, but the ring's beauty was in the metalwork. Twisting like branches or vines, it gripped the center stone with lavish swirls and designs. She slid her thumb along it, smiling. The twisting mark of the Labyrinth, the symbol at the center of her and Jareth's pendants, was emblazoned on the sides of the ring. She had barely noticed.

"Do you like it?" he asked, something in his voice making her stop her examination to look at him.

He seemed almost unsure.

She grasped his hands, then hauled him in for a kiss.

Author Note:

Hello, friends.

Apologies for the lateness of the posting, but it is a beefy chapter to hopefully make up for some of that. I stalled over the prophecy for about 36 hours. It was fun.

I also left my previous position and have found new employment. I'm in that lovely in-between stage where things are chaotic and messy.

Thank you very much to all of you who have commented, left reviews, or reached out. It truly means the word to us writers.

And, as always, if you liked this please leave a contribution in the little box :)

Cheers,

~CrimsonSympathy