A/N: I should be working. I should at the very least be working on one of my in progress novels. But no, I discovered a world of Labyrinth fanfiction, one of my favorite movies of all time. And now, I find I can not write anything else until I write this!
Short, as I am short on time. Not terribly original, or good, but I just needed to get this out.
No beta, sorry about mistakes.
Still, I hope you enjoy.
Oh, and I don't own Labyrinth, I just love it!
You have no power over me….
Oh, how wrong she had been. How very wrong. Sarah Williams sat in her small apartment in San Francisco, looking out over Golden Gate park covered with fog. It was a mystical sight, and she loved it. On her lap, she held a treasure, but her mind was a blur of memory and confusion.
After running and conquering the Labyrinth, and staring into the crystalline eyes of Jareth, the Goblin King, she had left her childhood behind. She'd been filled with a drive that she didn't understand until years later. A drive to know. And a drive to tell.
She'd finished high school in a year, and gone to college at Berkeley and finished with honors in English in three. By the age of twenty, she'd already published numerous works in a wide variety of literary magazines, but by far her most popular were her tales of the Labyrinth and the Goblin Kingdom. She'd talked to her friends diligently, never allowing herself to forget them, or risk allowing herself to belief that it had all been just a fantasy. She listened to their stories and recreated them on the page, her skill at description and her insightful wit earning her the acclaim of critics and fan letters from the very young to simply the young at heart. And on her twenty first birthday, she held in her lap an advance copy of her first novel, her own story of her adventures in the Labyrinth.
Her life, her every waking thought, had been his from the moment she'd picked up that thin little book. She wondered if she was condemning a thousand other impressionable girls to the same fate, or if she was setting them free.
You have no power over me….
Oh, perhaps he had no power over her, but she held his heart in the palm of the tiny, beautiful hand.
In the heart of a pure crystal, Jareth watched her in her window seat as she stared out over the mortal forest. There was a sadness on her face that he ached to wipe away. Lounging in his throne, his goblin minions hushed around him as he spent time contemplating the Queen of his heart, he remembered every moment that he'd spent with her over the years since he'd first answered the call of her heart. She'd never called for him, and though she'd not forgotten his kingdom, and often spoke with her friends, it pierced his soul that she had not called him to her side. But he could not stay away. In her dreams, he had cuddled her to him and listened to all her woes and her joys, and as she grew into her womanhood he soothed her tensions with kisses and caresses, massaging her body and slowly wakening her to passion. To his infinite relief, she'd never tried to find fulfillment in a mortal man, though she had gone out on "dates", she had allowed no other man the privledge of courting her. Nor should she! She was his Queen!
He stormed from his throne, throwing the crystal across the room and pacing, his tall black boots kicking up dust as goblins scampered away from him. He looked down and grumbled, "Why is this room not clean! How dare you neglect your duties to me!"
"Sorry, kingy, but you've been in here for days, kingy sir. We didn't want to bother you none while you was thinking of your lady." A small but brave goblin woman had dared to answer him, but instead of sending her to swim in the bog he smiled down at her.
"Thank you, little one. But I doubt I would have noticed, so deep in thought was I. I shall return to my chambers and let you do your work."
He was far too lenient now. But the rage that had once fueled him, the casual cruelty that had been second nature had lost its charm and its ability to amuse. He was a better king now, not a tyrant. His people seemed grateful for the change, though he did not recognize himself anymore.
With a pop, he disappeared, reappearing in his bedroom, staring out over his City and his Realm with the same flat stare that Sarah had. He would give all his City for her smile and all his Kingdom for her kiss, and she wanted none of it, and none of him. She'd given so much to him, to all of them, and yet she asked nothing for herself. For in all the tales she wrote, in all the minds she touched, her magic grew, and the imagination and belief of thousand of readers had flooded him Kingdom with new magic and brilliance. Never before had the trees grown so lush or the field given so much fruit, never before had the bog smelled so foul. Everything was filled with a life and a liveliness he'd not seen for centuries, all because of a slip of a girl and the magic in her soul. A magic she'd shared with those Aboveground and Below.
Why didn't she call for him?
Fear me, love me, do as I say and I would be your slave.
At fifteen, she'd not understood what he meant. She'd feared for herself, and especially for Toby. She'd still been selfish.
Now, she finally understood. She feared him. She feared her life without him, she feared the pain of life without his existence.
She loved him. She'd loved him them, as much as a girl of fifteen can love. But as a woman, whose dreams had been filled with long conversations and passionate kisses and soft sweet comfort of simply being wrapped together in an embrace - now she understood how much of her was him, how deeply she loved him.
She would have done anything he said, if she'd only understood. If he commanded her now, she would do anything and everything he asked.
To have Jareth as her slave, to serve her every desire, the very thought sent desire pulsing through her. He'd been so much in her dreams, but she'd been left only the touch of his hands and the warmth of his mouth and had never known the complete fulfillment of her desire for him.
Now she finally understood. Now she was grown enough to understand all that he offered to her.
Would he still offer it to her, or had she been forgotten? Were the Fey so fickle?
She whispered into the cool night air, he hands clenched around her book.
I, Sarah Williams, command the Goblin King to come to me, and speak of his desires.
Fear me, love me, do as I say, and I would be your slave.
Fire bloomed hot and bright in his heart as her words called to him across the barrier between their words. A heavy load was removed from his shoulders, a lock broken that had kept him from her side for six long and lonely years. In an instant, he disappeared, reappearing inside her living room before the last syllable had left her lips.
She turned instantly to stare at him, her green eyes wide and a perfect rosy blush upon her cheeks. She was sitting on a soft green sofa, in a loose thick sweater and some kind of thick blue pants and rough boots, and her hair was atop her head in a messy knot, but she still took his breath away.
"Sarah Williams, why do you call me after, after all this time? Surely you have forgotten me and my tiny kingdom, when your own is so grand?"
Her eyes flared with the fire he loved, and she snapped at him, "I would never forget, not after the nightmare you put me through!"
He laughed, long and loud, and with a wave of his hand she changed before him. Gone were her restrictive and repressive garments. She gasped pleasantly in shock as she looked down at the moss green fairy silk, with a pattern that rippled and moved like a living thing. The perfect globes of her breasts were caressed by the fabric, revealed and concealed in perfect proportion, and the dress hugged the curve of her hips. His cock, already half hard in her mere presence, swelled until it was painfully hard. She was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his very long life.
Her hair rippled free, black and silky, down to her waist, and her beautiful feet were bare to him. And there on her ankle, he saw it. The last bit of proof that he needed, something that had never followed her to the dream world they'd shared.
On her ankle was a tattoo, an image imprinted in her skin for eternity, the image of an barn owl staring quizzically out of mismatched eyes.
As he would for no other being, Jareth, the Goblin King, knelt before his lady, and cupped the heel of her foot in the palm of his hand, and lifted her leg. The knee length dress parted, revealing a glimpse of her sweet white thighs, and he placed a kiss upon the owl, upon the proof of her affection, nay…her need for him.
She stayed frozen, only the lingering breath of a sigh on her lush lips as she gazed into his eyes. Only when his hands began to inch up her legs did she speak, her voice husky with what he hoped was desire.
"Jareth, as my words commanded, and as I ask you now, tell me truly of your desires."
Everything I've done, I've done for you…
The spicy scent of him was driving her insane. The bite of winter, the sting of pine, the fire of black pepper and the musk of sandalwood. She had long thought she was cold, that she was uninterested in sex, but his scent alone was making her wet with need, her body throb to the pulse she could feel as his hand held her ankle. She wasn't an ice queen, she just needed him. He'd taught her, shown her, tortured her over the course of years, and just as he'd molded her, she'd molded him to understand her needs to perfection. But he'd never left them completely fulfilled.
She'd asked her question, and she waited for a response. She could feel him smile against the skin of her calf, and nipples tightened visibly under the thin material of the dress he'd made for her. She knew she was laid bare for him, that he must know how much she wanted him.
He raised his head and looked into her eyes, and she could see desire in his own mismatched eyes. "You ask me to tell you of my desires, precious. But I do not need words for that. No, it would be much better to demonstrate."
His hands slid farther up her legs and she could not speak at all, much less protest. Not when it was exactly what she wanted. His lips ghosted over the skin of her thighs until, without warning, he sank his teeth into her flesh, just hard enough to send a bolt of pain through her, before she could even think to protest, he soothed the hurt with the soft slickness of his tongue, drawing patterns over the welt he'd left and using the sensitivity of that skin to drive her to the heights of lust. He did it again, and again, getting closer and closer to the wet, slick center of her pleasure.
He'd given her no boon of undergarments, and her sex was naked, open and waiting her his patronage. She buried her hands in the surprising softness of his hair, pulling until he growled against her skin and relented, tracing his tongue around her clit and making her scream with the sensation that flooded her. His tongue was warm, fast and clever, far too clever, his licks and kisses driving her too close to the edge to fast. But he kept her there, trapped on the precipice as he sucked on her bud and then nipped softly on the swollen lips of her sex. When he drove his tongue deep into her sheath, she broke, crying his name as she tumbled into orgasm, her fingers hard in his hair and her hips bucking up off the couch to get closer to him and all he offered.
Then his hands, naked of his gloved, caressed her thighs, and before she could come down fully from the heights he'd sent her, those long elegant fingers entered her core, stroking the silky heat there as his lips murmured his desires in a thousand languages she only knew in her heart. His hands and tongue together seemed to be anywhere, everywhere, with a deft quickness that no mortal man could hope to match. He'd done this do her in dreams countless nights since she'd first awakened as a woman, and he'd taught her to love the climb and much as the fall.
But tonight, tonight he was relentless, and she soared to a peak again and again, his talents giving her no peace with which to contemplate, no chance to return his gifts of pleasure. She begged, she cried, she screamed until finally from some deep core of strength she pulled him by the shoulders higher, and he dragged wet kisses across her stomach, waving away the elegant dress he'd created for her and leaving her in naught but her own shining skin. When he reached her breasts, she was lost once again, until his spell as he sucked on the hard tip of each, driving her to the heights of need with such ease. And he was magic, after all, and with a power of time that no other could match, he used it to her pleasure, laving one nipple with his tongue as he bit the other with a pain that felt like rapture. He drove her up and over once again, just with his mouth on her breasts, his hands cradling her hips.
Finally, he kissed her lips, and she melted into him, tasting herself on his tongue, the scent of sex so strong as to be intoxicating. His scent, their scent, combined it was like nothing else in all the worlds. She needed it, she needed him more than she needed breath.
He pulled away, his impossible eyes deep and dark with lust. "I need you, Sarah. Though it pains me to admit such a thing, such a weakness, I can not live without you." You were not ready for me when you ran my Labyrinth, you were not yet a woman, nor quite a child. And I have waited for you, impatiently knowing that you were to be my Queen. Are you ready for the challenge, precious? Can you try to tame me?"
She smiled, exhaustion pushed aside as she looked in those beloved eyes. "I have no need to tame you, Jareth. What would be the fun in that, tra la?" She fluttered her lashes at him, and pushed her hips to the very edge of the sofa, where his cock strained against his skin-tight leggings. "Show me your desires, my King. Show me this is not a dream. Show me your power over me, and I am yours."
In a flash, they were no longer in her living room, but in a wide bed, with impossibly soft sheets, a ceiling full of stars overhead and the glow of a moon that couldn't be real. The air crackled with power, as she said the last words, "Take from me all that you will, and I shall take from you all that I need, and we will be one, falling forever."
"Mine!" he growled. He kissed her, words no longer necessary, and she was filled finally, with the power and the glory of him. His clothing gone with nary a blink, and his cock slid within the slick depths of her as though he'd been made to fit her like a key to a lock. She had expected pain, but instead was filled with a sharp power, the sizzle of magic as it entered her blood and took her for its own.
Somewhere her mind formed a thought - how dare you take my pain from me! For she would gladly have endured it, savored it, for the delights of having him finally within her. For this no longer be a dream. Jareth chuckled wickedly, a sensation she could feel from the way his cock moved so slightly within her. "I shall give you your delicious pain, precious. But I would show you bliss before you feel the kiss of her darker side of being my Queen."
And so he did, thrusting within her, as the stars swirled overhead in an impossible dance. Each slide of him within her was heaven, and each withdrawal a blissful hell. She learned this dance quickly, her hips rises to reach for his, her nails clawing at his back, her legs wrapped around his powerful thighs as she screamed his name to the sky.
All too soon she was soaring, delving into the unknown as power and pleasure sought to tear her apart and remake her. Jareth had made her come over and over again, but this complete, deep and powerful rapture bloomed in her body like a dark red rose bud, growing and unfurling until she thought she would die from it. When he shouted her name and thrust even harder, she was pushed to her limit and bright light flared within her mind as he pulsed white seed into her core.
Everything I've done, I've done for you…
"Sarah?" he whispered softly into the lushness of her hair, the scent of peach blossoms and cinnamon so sweet and so like his Sarah that he would never forget it. She'd been everything he could have dreamed of, but she was silent, her eyes unfocused, her gasps of breathe the only sound she made. Had he harmed her with the taking of her maidenhead? Had his love been too much for her to bear? That was not even a sliver of all that he could do, would do for her. Would giving her all of his love harm her, a mortal after all? He could not tear himself away from her - if he had harmed her, he would never forgive…
She turned her head to him, a smile on her face, her eyes glowing a rich emerald green - so green that it was a color no mortal could hope for. "My King, my Jareth," she pushed a hand behind his head and pulled him do her for a kiss, and no sweet peck, but a kiss of fire and lightning. His mind whirled as his senses were overthrown, the taste of her so addictive, so seductive, that he knew he could never bank his desire for her.
With a deft flip, she spun them round, embedding him ever deeper within her sweet sheath as she rose in full glory above him, the silver light of the moon revealing her as the Queen she was. Those glowing eyes smiled at him as her lips pursed in a seductive smirk.
"You are still hard, my love. Are you not satisfied? Shall I try to please you more?" She dragged her nails over his nipples and his hips arched into her, his cock so deep inside her he could feel the opening to her womb.
He grabbed her wrists, then pulled her hands to his mouth, kissing her palms and pulling hard so that her incredible breasts crushed against his chest. "You, my vixen, are the most alluring, more tantalizing, most infuriating woman I've every known. You've given me more than enough pleasure, more than even I could have dreamed, but I am Fae. I will desire you and my body will show evidence of it until the sun no longer rises and the moon grows dim."
"Perfect," she purred, as her thighs worked to raise her hips and she slammed down on him, making him gasp as the rush of pleasure. She whimpered, her lips against his neck, as her hips curled again and again, making him slide within her slow and sweet. With no warning, she reared up again, driving him deep and began a frantic dance, raising and lowering herself with wild abandon, her hair swirling about her, her breasts heaving and bouncing in the most magnificent way.
He curled his body up to her, capturing her nipple and digging his fingers into her hips, whether to help or hinder her he was uncertain. Their life together was always one of fire and fight, and their time in bed would surely be no different. She growled, her teeth flashing as she drove down onto him, punishing him with more bliss.
She should not have such power. He had taken her hymen, and he knew she would suffer for this if he let her continue with such a wild ride. But the strength of her, the fire, it was so hard to stop her, when she was so utterly regal, magnificent in her ruthless quest to attain their pleasure.
"Sarah," he breathed, his love for her winning over his lustful need, "we must stop, you'll regret…."
Her teeth flashed, and he saw their subtle points. Her eyes blazed, and his heart rejoiced. He had not dreamed it possible…
"I'll never stop, Jareth. I have need of you, and you promised to be my slave. I love you, I fear you, and I shall do all that you say, if only you shall do the same for me!"
She circled her hips, rubbing the tip of him against the ridges of her channel until his eyes rolled back with the pleasure of it. She leaned into him, tracing her tongue around his ear. "I told you to take me, Jareth, the Goblin King. Not to coddle me. For my will is strong, my kingdom…"
He flipped them once again, driving into her to stop her words and making her scream and smile. "Your kingdom is mine! You are my Queen!"
She grinned and sank her teeth into his shoulder, and there was no holding him back. He thrust into her, hard and rough, letting loose the full weight of his need for her. She wrapped her arms around him and rode with him, clutching his buttocks to push him on, biting and kissing and swearing into the white skin of his broad shoulder. He was lost to it, lost to all but the feel of her around him. The power that was growing in her, feeding both of them. He would have her, all of her, for eternity.
Pleasure rocketed through him and as she moaned his name, he screamed hers, and the stars answered their call and shone behind their eyes. He collapsed, spent in a way he could never recall, staring at the woman, nay, at the Queen who was his.
She smiled sweetly at him, as though she was still an innocent, not the temptress who had demanded all he could give. "My kingdom is yours? Then you shall have to be my king, both Aboveground and Under."
"Of what do you speak, Precious? You shall stay here and be my queen, bear my children…"
She held a finger to his lips, and he took it into his mouth, sucking on it and feeling his desire grow again. Never had he been so randy, needed a woman so much again and again. She moaned at his treatment, but she pushed up on her elbow and tried to speak, "I can not abandon my life here completely. I ask a boon, a boon for your bride."
He kissed her pulse point and felt her shiver, but she would not obey his unvoiced wish and be quiet. Confound the woman!
"I will stay with you, but I wish for one week of each month to be spent Above."
"I will not leave you so long!" He dug his fingers into her waist, pulled her against him so that she could know his demands.
"I could not leave you either, silly kingy!" She stuck out her pink tongue, and he wanted to chase it with his, but she leaned away. "You shall be my king here as well, and I shall show you all the delights of my world, while I write my tales. I can not explain, but I must share the Labyrinth and its wonders with the world. I can not contain my dreams alone anymore!"
So that was the source of this new power! "The Labyrinth is stronger, heartier than in an eon. Is it you who've made the world believe once again, given me, and it, the power of imagination once again?"
Her eyes sparkled, "You've always held that power, but it is meant to be shared, not contained."
He had no answer, but he knew he had much to learn. And much to teach.
"No wonder you've earned your power, my wife." She looked at him, a question in her eyes. Eyes now surrounded by markings not dissimilar to his own. The transformation was complete, and she was immortal as he. "You are now Fae, my love. And your imagination shall thrive forever."
Well, let's see how you deal with this little slice...
With a twist of her wrist, she called a crystal to her, and she smiled, releasing it overhead and it burst into a shower of peach blossoms, the sweet scent encompassing them in their bower. How could she have not known? She would be with him now, truly be his equal. She laughed, and that laughter was music.
His eyes shone bright, the blue of ice and fire. "We'll rule both worlds, my love, you and I. But for now, I must teach you more of magic, and of love." He snapped his fingers, and she felt something warm and hard against her back. She gasped and turned her head, seeing Jareth, another Jareth, smiling down on her. He grinned, and she turned back, staring at her King with eyes wide open. "Jareth?"
"Yes?" both answered, and two sets of hands began to stroke over her skin, making her shiver.
She moaned, the possibilities only just beginning to occur to her. One laughed, and the other took a nipple in his mouth, making her gasp. "You have so much to learn of the art of love, sweet one. And I shall have such a time teaching you!"
She shivered, the heat of desire flaring in her once again, her exhaustion fading as her Fae blood heated once again. She would never back away from a challenge!