The King and the Girl By ElizabethPotter

Sarah sighed unevenly and hugged herself, begging relief from the exhaustion that swept over her. The adrenaline that had sustained her for the past thirteen hours was now wearing off and leaving her in a state of bewildered and addled fatigue.

She had collapsed on her bed, satisfied that Toby was safe, that she was free, that it had happened, really, or that maybe it hadn't... She could no longer fight the urge to sleep, though, and her need to contemplate he events of the day provided poor competition to the inviting release of sleep.

The sound of muffled scratching at her window was what finally woke her, hours later, in the twilight between night and dawn. Sarah rolled lazily off her bed and walked to the window, prepared to shoo away whatever branches had disturbed her slumber. Nothing presented itself, however. She opened the window to a pleasant breeze, and inhaled deeply. The cold air was comforting in light of the dark and oppressively hot atmosphere of the Goblin City. The moon was appropriately full and iridescent, almost purple in the dim light of the rising sun. She closed her eyes and rested her weight on the windowsill, breathing deeply and feeling so emotionally satiated that she didn't notice the continued, low scratching.

The shatter of glass behind her startled Sarah, and she whirled around and gasped. Fragments of her mirror lay blanketing her floor, pudding the ceiling in sharp triangles on the carpet. She instinctively drew her hands to her face and huddled down towards the ground, protecting herself from the shower of glass and swooping of feathers. She lowered an arm a moment later; the barn owl settled and raked its talons across her desk chair.

"No!" she managed to squeak out, not believing, but still fearful. "I won! I played by your rules and I won!" Sarah wailed, sounding as though she needed to convince herself of the fact more than her intruder.

The owl cocked its head and glided it back and forth, rhythmically, honing in on her voice. Gracefully, it drew its two mottled wings back and flapped them together, once, powerfully, and resumed its usual form.

It smirked.

The familiar form, the evil smile that played across his lips... Sarah was unable to deny it now. Fair or not, rules or not, Jareth wasn't done playing the game.

"You've no right!" She yelled, standing fully erect now, and balling her fists in rage.

"I won!" she repeated, and slammed a fist into the wall behind her.

"Oh, Sarah," he half-sighed; the same smirk on his face played tortuously in his voice. "You've only won one match. The game is by no means over." He took a step forward and gazed at her, piteously.

"No..." she pleaded, unable to gather enough resolve to move.

"Now, now, Sarah" he began, taking another step, then another, leisurely towards her. "It was just a misunderstanding. But, the rules are the rules. One match, one person. You've only played once. It wouldn't be fair if I let you and your brother go when you've only played one round, now would it?"

Sarah could only search his face earnestly, hoping for a way out.

Here the King smirked again. "Now, you must play a match for your life. If you win, you're free, just as your brother. But..." he hissed ominously, "need I remind you that I hate loosing? That I'm determined not to loose... Especially now that you're the stakes?" His pursed his thin lips and arched an eyebrow, as if to emphasize the true meaning behind the words. A second later, a silvery orb danced over his fingers, mesmerizing the girl and lulling her into a hypnotic stupor.

"Take it" he whispered into her ear as he laid the globe into her hands. "It's my gift to you... Just an ordinary globe... But if you hold it just right, my queen, it will show you your dreams."

Sarah awoke disoriented and stiff. Unfamiliar surroundings soon made themselves horrifically clear as the muted sound of thirteen clock chimes reverberated through the room. Terrified, she sprung up and looked around. She had been carefully laid on an immense bed, far more luxurious than anything she would expect a goblin king to own. ...She had determined that much, that she was most assuredly in the goblin king's castle, but beyond that she had no idea why she was there, or what Jareth was demanding of her.

No sooner had she begun to contemplate these questions, though, than a soft knock echoed through the stone room and she found herself, almost involuntarily, bidding the visitor to come in.

Jareth opened the heavy iron door and strutted in with a flourish. "Good to see you're finally up" he said contritely.

Sarah still stood obdurate, a new strength beginning to glow in her eyes. "You have no power over me, I know that" she asserted, infusing her voice with as much courage as she could muster.

"Oh?" he replied, amused. "I have no power over you?" he stood just a foot away now and leaned forward, lessening the distance between their faces even further. Sarah jerked back, and Jareth tapped her shoulder with his cane.

"No, little girl, I have no power over you..." He began to circle her now, letting each footfall sound, heavy and ominous, caging her in.

"Just tell me what the rules are... so I can play your game and win again by your rules," she added in a small voice.

Jareth stopped circling her now and stood in profile in front of her. "Well, Miss Sarah, if that's all you want to know, I can tell you the answer easily enough." The King now turned and faced Sarah fully, leaning towards her and drawing his warm tongue slowly up the side of her neck and sucking lightly on her earlobe.

"Yes, easily enough," he stopped to whisper into her ear. "You have until the clock strikes thirteen again to escape from my castle... and from me."

Sarah stood for a moment, letting the sensation envelop her. She was in a state of shock; Jareth's maniacal labyrinth, she could handle, but Jareth himself? It was so tempting... so tempting just to close her eyes, tilt her head back, and give Jareth full access to her delicate neck, let the soft but demanding kisses linger there, then travel, travel further down, whispering across her shoulder, fanning down lower, over her breast while his hands...

"Oh, God!" Sarah gasped, and with an amazing force of willpower, she opened her eyes and drew cold fingertips to her burning forehead.

Too late, though, too late. The crimson blush of arousal had spread now from her cheeks to her lips to her ivory neck... A fact that did not escape the King's notice.

Jareth cocked his head and took a step back, surveying his effect over her. When he finally spoke, he drew a finger gingerly to his chin. "Sarah," he began, then took another step back and stood authoritatively, "when you leave this chamber, you will have a choice. First, you may go left. This staircase leads directly to my chambers, and a future of immortality as my queen." Here he stopped to indicate the direction with a delicately gloved hand. "Or," he began again, his tone suddenly far more sinister, "you may to right. This leads directly to the goblins' inner sanctum, where perils untold await you - or anyone - who wishes to leave my castle without my consent." A familiar smirk now crept into his expression as he reveled in his sadism.

Not sure of what to say, Sarah simply nodded and took a deep breath.

For a moment, neither spoke.

"Oh, and Sarah... You made the wrong decision once already. I wouldn't let it happen again if I were you." And with that, the King turned on his heels and disappeared from the room in a flurry of capes and tassels.

The door remained open after his departure, and Sarah gazed out if for a moment. Not yet courageous enough to venture outside, she returned to her bed and picked up the small globe that rested on her pillow. She raised it in front of her face on delicate fingertips and looked into it.

...Nothing.

She rotated it and looked again, but the orb refused to divulge the dream.

"This thing doesn't even work!" she said, disgusted. Still, she clutched it firmly in her hand as she took her first cautious steps outside the room.

The castle was eerily quiet; its walls were cool and dank. Sarah took a few tentative steps forward and looked over the railing. The walkway seemed to be suspended midway between the ground floor and the roof of the castle, but looking down all Sarah saw was a great black abyss. A dungeon; the goblin's inner sanctum. Above, the view was no different. The walls stretched upwards, uninterrupted, until they merged with one another in muddled blackness. Her window-less room offered no alternative, either, and Sarah was forced to decide, right or left.

Right, or left. She looked left. The staircase spiraled upwards, but the two torches on either side of the door were not enough to illuminate its final destination. The path to the right lead almost directly downwards. Either way, she was journeying into ominous darkness.

But, she thought with resolve, it doesn't matter what is down that staircase. That is my only option. Even if I die trying to escape, I must at least try.

She loosened a torch from its finding and held it out in front of her. Sweeping the downward staircase with light, she proceeded slowly. A suddenly flurry of bats' wings, or what sounded to Sarah like bats' wings, caused her to jump back, startled, and grab the railing. She clung to it and swept the torch back and forth again, but saw nothing, save the Spartan walls and dreary cobwebs of a long-neglected stairwell. She walked faster now, sweeping the torch furiously. She cared not for what awaited her at the end of the staircase, so long as it, and Jareth, were far behind her.

Her feet touched the spongy, moss-ridden floor just a few minutes later. ...No goblins. ...No goblins? This was supposed to be the goblins' inner sanctum, so where were Jareth's subjects? One lonely torch sputtered against the far wall, and Sarah could see several more extinguished ones lining the room. Carefully she lit each one, until the room glowed red and gold and the torches cast long shadows on the walls.

The room was empty. Just the torches and a few stray rocks. Against the far wall was a heavy, iron-studded door, but no sound emanated from behind it.

"That's odd..." she pondered aloud. "That door must lead to the goblins' room, but... they don't seem to be making any noise, and they're normally such boisterous creatures..."

She turned around and looked back up the staircase, then back into the room. The room where she stood was still empty, the room behind the great wooden door still silent. Cautiously, she crept up to the door and touched it. It was unlatched, and swung slightly even under her delicate touch.

Now Sarah placed both hands on the door, and taking a deep breath, pushed it fully open. This room, as well, was dark, and she ventured in slowly. The door, seemingly of its own accord, immediately slammed behind her, and the room was flooded with grayish lunar light. She blinked against the brightness and stumbled forward, only to snap upright at the sound of a familiar voice.

"Sarah," was all it said, but it was enough to enrage the girl and provoke tears to pool in the corners of her eyes.

"You lied!" she cried indignantly. "You said this staircase led to the goblins, then outside the castle!"

Jareth regarded her for a moment, then answered, "Did I?" He held a goblet in his right hand, and he held it towards her nonchalantly. "Care for a drink?"

"No! I..." she tried to collect her thoughts, but to no avail.

Still he held out the glass, though, and begged her to take it. He waited a moment, then placed it back on the table when she made no movement to accept it. "I told you I hate to loose," he said simply.

"Tell me then - if I go back up the stairs, and continue up the left, will that lead me out?"

Jareth smiled at her ignorance. "No, it will lead exactly where I told you it will lead."

"Then why didn't this path lead exactly where you said it would?" she demanded indignantly.

Jareth stared at her, slightly taken aback. "What does it show you?" he asked after a moment.

"What does what show me?"

"The orb." He motioned to it with a nod of his head.

Sarah suddenly became aware that she had been carrying it the whole time. "It didn't work. It didn't show me anything."

Jareth laughed, short, staccato and piercing. "It didn't show you anything?" he repeated, as he drew nearer to her and looked into the globe as well.

"It cannot know if you do not know"

"What do you mean?"

Jareth leaned over her now and ran a finger up her arm. "You do not know what you want, and so the orb cannot know, either. And yet..."

"And yet' what?" Sarah demanded.

"You do know." The King kissed the girl again, but this time his lips sought hers and she relinquished them readily.

She closed her eyes and allowed the feelings she was powerless to resist overwhelm her. The physical sensation of his warm lips, his hands that clutched her shoulders and pressed her even closer to his body... he teased her with an intimacy that she hungered for and could no longer deny.

She admitted it all by simply calling his name.

He still held her tightly to his chest, but he lifted her off her feet now and carried her to his bed. Wordlessly, he lay beside her and began to feather kisses down her neck.

Sarah called his name again, imploringly, only to elicit a sharp bite on her neck. The tingling pain sent a wave of pleasure through her and her whole body tensed in response. Jareth, in turn, responded, biting her again and raking his teeth across her collarbone. She twined a hand through his hair and he stopped short, just above her heart. He left a kiss there and set his left hand to work on the buttons of her blouse.

Already consumed, Sarah lost her grip on the globe and it rolled off her limp palm, skittering across the floor and coming to rest against the far wall.

Jareth spoke; his voice was now lilting and smoothly inviting. "Is this what you were afraid of? Is this what drove you to go down the wrong path?"

Jareth had by now finished off the buttons, and employed his left hand lightly stroking her body, shoulder to waist. He let his fingers dance once over her breast and was rewarded with a soft moan and the writhing of flesh beneath his hand.

His voice began again, hypnotic. "No, but that couldn't have been it. No, Sarah, it wasn't, because you did not know what you wanted. But you know now?" He lowered his mouth over her nipple and ran his tongue in tantalizing circles.

Sarah, heart racing, gasped for breath. She knew an answer was the only way to end the torture and experience sweet release.

Her dulled mind groped blindly for words. "I... I want..."

She gasped again and Jareth lifted his head. The moment his mouth left her right breast, however, his hand made contact with her left nipple, rolling and pinching, over and over, and illuminating the blackness behind Sarah's closed eyelids with stars once more.

"You... want?" he assisted.

Sarah's free hand clutched at his shoulder, urging him back down.

"I want you, Jareth, I want you!" she managed to cry out all at once.

And she surrendered to his passions, and the King was merciful.

Sarah blinked her eyes open and was met with the steady gaze of the Goblin King. He sat in a chair opposite the bed, swathed in black robe, and tapping his foot idly against the chair leg. The chimes of the clock were sounding, and he counted them aloud for her.

"Eleven... Twelve... Thirteen. The thirteenth hour is upon you and it appears as though you've lost the game, Sarah."

Sarah sat up and contemplated the King for a minute. "I don't understand," she said, half to herself. "You have no power over me... And yet..."

"And yet you were powerless to resist?" Jareth suggested.

Sarah only nodded, slightly awed.

"That is because I am all you ever wished me to be, nothing more, but nothing less. I am powerless against your will and your true feelings, but then, so are you. You must do as I say, just as you make me your slave..."

"That's how it is in the Labyrinth..." she whispered.

And against the far wall of the room, the translucent orb reflected the silver light of the room and mingled with it the unseen dreams of both the room's occupants.