Work Text:
With great effort, Sarah made her way to the phone, her blanket wrapped around her body and a tissue in each nostril.
She dialed the number, twirling her finger around the telephone cord. She reached for her mug, groaning in frustration when she realized that the cord prevented her from reaching it.
“Hello?” a gruff male voice answered.
Sarah sighed in relief, grateful that she wasn’t going to be babysitting the phone all day, endlessly waiting for him to answer.
“Hey, Nate. I’m so sorry, I can’t make it to dinner tonight. I thought I’d be over this cold or flu by now.”
“Oh man, yeah, you sound congested. Were you like this yesterday?”
“Yeah, but I guess I was in denial about how sick I actually was.”
She tried to laugh to lighten the mood, only to start another hacking cough.
“Hmm,” Nate grumbled.
His lack of sympathy threw Sarah off.
“What?”
“You could have told me that earlier, you know? This is really last minute.”
Sarah looked at the clock. It was still morning.
“I’m really sorry. I feel terrible. I’ve been looking forward to it too.”
“I had to call and pay for those reservations for us, you know?”
What the hell had gotten into him? He was upset because he had to pay? Nate never acted like this.
Actually, as Sarah thought about it, he had acted similarly before, grumbling as soon as things became inconvenient for him and then placing the blame on others.
The difference was, he was never this obvious before.
She tried to placate him and wanted to avoid any blame on her part.
“I’ll pay the reservation then. How much was it?”
“That’s emasculating.”
Funny how he didn’t seem to find it emasculating to be complaining about this.
“What the hell do you want me to do then??”
Her head throbbed when she shouted.
“I could have taken some other girl before if you had told me. God, Sarah!”
That was it.
She wasn’t going to tolerate some dude treating her this way.
She wasn’t going to reiterate that she was sick. That her mind was foggy. That this was Valentine’s Day, and they were supposed to spend time together.
Or that as her boyfriend, he should’ve been taking care while she was sick, even if she herself didn’t expect that from him.
If he couldn’t figure all of that by now as a grown ass man, he didn’t deserve her.
The audacity.
“Then do it. We’re done, Nate. I’m breaking up with you.”
Panic seeped into his voice. “Wait, Sarah. I’m so sorry-“
“No! We’ve had these conversations where you’ll apologize and then shift the blame around to me. You don’t get to be a huge jerk and then apologize, especially when I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t want to hear from you ever again.”
She hung up on him, the pathetic fool still sputtering some apology.
Had Sarah been healthy, she would’ve been more sad, but her body was too weak to focus on what an idiot Nate was. What’s the point anyway? They started dating at the suggestion of their friends, only together for a few months.
He wasn’t worth crying over.
She made herself a cup of tea with ginger and honey before going back to bed.
At least, he showed his true colors now rather than later. She didn’t need someone like that in her life.
Truthfully, it hurt her ego more than it actually hurt her feelings. She had liked Nate, but over the past few weeks, she didn’t feel that happiness anymore when she saw him.
Oh well. The break up was for the best.
She coughed a few times, frustrated that her throat felt like a disgusting, slimy frog was lodged in there.
“Man, I wish I had some soup. I could really do with something nice and warm.”
She crawled back into bed, whining some more about the ache in her joints.
Then, Sarah promptly fell asleep.
Her stomach woke her up.
“Seriously?” Sarah groaned, staring at her abdomen, still rumbling. “You couldn’t have let me sleep longer?”
She plopped right back down, then regretted it, both nostrils now plugged.
“Gah! I wish I could have some nice soup or curry right now. Stupid flu!”
She placed an arm over her eyes, trying to block the tiny bit of sunlight that was streaming through the windows.
She was never going to take being healthy for granted again.
Why oh why did it have to happen on Valentine’s Day too?
She was looking forward to dressing up nice and eating at that fancy Brazilian steak restaurant.
Then, she remembered Nate.
“Oh yeah, him,” she shook her head in thought. “I’d have to go with him, huh? I’m good.”
He wasn’t that bad, not until today. But Sarah wasn’t about to put up with that kind of nonsense. It wasn’t as if she got sick on purpose or expected it to be this bad.
Besides, she wasn’t in the mood to eat steak. Her throat was much too scratchy for it.
What she wanted was the soup she thought of earlier. Or porridge. Or oatmeal. Or strew.
Something with tender beef or pork that melted in your mouth, similar to the pot roasts that Karen would make back when she was a sick teen.
The vegetables would have that lovely sweetness, the stew full of onions and garlic that would temporarily relieve her of the congestion and warm her cold belly.
She could smell it right now, but it was a tad different.
Great, now she was hallucinating food. She should have bought some canned chicken soup from the store, the last time she went.
“Spices and herbs, that’s what’s missing,” she said out loud. “Karen never added enough of those in her stews.”
“I can assure you, these have plenty of spices and herbs,” a low, sophisticated voice replied.
Gasping in shock that led to another coughing fit, Sarah snapped her arm away from her eyes, face-to-face with someone she hadn’t seen in well over a decade.
The Goblin King.
Where Sarah had clearly been changed by time, the Goblin King was untouched by age.
He sat on a chair, a leg crossed over the other, a smirk on his elegant face, and an amused eyebrow raised.
He was dressed in all black, from his loose shirt tucked into his tight pants (were they tighter than Sarah had remembered?) to his shiny boots. Only his silver and gold medallion was not black.
He looked just as handsome as she remembered him. If not, more so.
In his hands was a bowl with a lid on it.
Despite her greatly reduced sense of smell, Sarah could still catch a faint whiff. It smelled delicious.
“What- what are you doing here?” Sarah managed to ask, still in shock and her flu-riddled brain not at all helping.
He nodded towards the bowl. “You wished for some soup or curry, did you not?”
She blinked a couple of times, not quite sure how to respond.
He leaned forward, making her heart race.
“You sound quite congested. This will help.”
“How?” Sarah inquired.
“The ingredients are not only quite appetizing, they have some similar elements to pain medications in them, which could soothe whatever is happening to you. Some other ingredients can break up mucus and clear your airways, albeit temporarily. It won’t cure you, but it does help.”
Sarah eyed the bowl suspiciously. Then back at him. Then back at the bowl.
She took it from him, taking a sniff and then the first bite.
The Goblin King raised an eyebrow.
She swallowed, glaring at him. “What?”
He shrugged. “That took much less convincing than I had anticipated. You do seem to confound me quite easily.”
Sarah shrugged back. “Well, I figure that whether you’re telling the truth or trying to kill me, this stew will be one step closer to putting me out of my misery.”
His eyebrows scrunched together. “You can’t possibly think I actually want to hurt you.”
“You sent me to the Bog of Eternal Stench.”
“I did not. I was trying to send Hedgewart-“
“Hoggle.”
“Higgle, but you followed him. Besides, did you actually injure yourself or fall in? Are you cursed with an endless stench?”
“Touché,” Sarah conceded.
She was much too tired for this anyway. Even eating made her tired.
Still, she just had to point out one more thing.
“Kind of cruel to send him to the Bog.”
The Goblin King scoffed. “I wouldn’t actually do that. Not to him, believe it or not. Just wanted to scare him a little for being disobedient.”
Sarah rolled her eyes, deciding to not dignify that response.
She continued to eat in silence, trying to ignore the fact that he was staring at her very intently.
When she was halfway done, she couldn’t help but smile gratefully at the bowl.
“Thank you. I was dreading cooking for myself. Or ordering some take out. This hit the spot.”
This time, there was no smirk or sarcastic quip from him. Just a genuine smile, one she hadn’t seen on him since the time they danced together in that crystal ball dream so many years ago.
It made her feel unexpectedly happy, and she wanted to see more of that softer side.
“You’re welcome, Sarah. However, I can’t take the credit. That goes to the chefs in my kitchen. This meal is a staple for my people when we are unwell. It does seem to ‘hit the spot’ as you put it.”
She scooped up some of the stew, then tipped the spoon slightly, so gravity would take it back into the bowl like a waterfall. It was a creamy yellow-orange sort of color, with specks of red in it that she assumed was spice. She pushed around the veggies and meat, the green and brown chunks breaking up the homogeneity of the stew. A few leaves floated on top, most likely for flavor.
The Goblin King raised an eyebrow. “Playing with your food?”
She looked away sheepishly, embarrassed.
He chuckled, making Sarah relaxed. He seemed entertained rather than offended.
“Sorry. I’m just so curious and fascinated.”
“By the stew?”
“By your world.”
Her eyes brightened.
“I’ve seen such a small part of it and, at the risk of being cliché, it was magical and never left my mind. Even after all these years.”
Her voice faded, eyes back to the stew as memories of staring out her bedroom window in longing, especially at night when the moon seemed to beckon her, flooded her mind.
I’ll place the moon within your heart…
He gazed at her, opening his mouth to speak then shut it almost immediately. Fiddling with the strings on his shirt, his eyes wandered around her room until he found some words to say.
“What would you like to know?” he settled.
Sarah’s bottom lip trembled, eyes fixed on the tree outside her window.
“Goblin King-“
“Jareth,” he interrupted, as if the mere mention of his title hurt him. “You know my name. Please, use it.”
“Jareth,” she sounded it out.
Of course, she knew his name through Hoggle. She had thought of his name many times in her head, but refused to ever utter it.
If she did, he would be real, and her heart wouldn’t be able to take it if she whispered his name, and he wasn’t there.
“I suppose, we can start with your kingdom?”
She was about to say “you,” but that felt too personal.
Too real.
“I want to know what kind of creatures or people live there. What the weather is like, what life is like.”
His countenance softened; the smile, warmer than the stew he brought for her, almost made Sarah forget her own sickness.
And so, the Goblin King regaled the history of his kingdom to Sarah. He spoke of the first Goblin King and the subsequent monarchs, all tasked with caring for the goblins and wished-away children.
She seemed most interested in the kingdom itself, particularly the ordinary people.
What were their lives like?
Were they happy?
Why did he have such an amalgamation of different species living together in one place compared to the other kingdoms that tended to have just one?
Despite her illness, Sarah was quite animated and asked him incredibly thoughtful questions. Sometimes, she even challenged him on certain laws, making the Goblin King rethink millennia of tradition.
Had she dared to voice opposition back when they first met, Jareth would have brushed her off, due to her age and limited experience. He also deeply disliked being criticized, for no one truly understood the hardships of his duties.
Now that he had been humbled and forever changed by her victory, he found her curiosity and pushback refreshing. There were always ways to improve, after all.
Sarah thought she would have been self-conscious of being so sick in front of Jareth. Pale, red nose, constantly blowing her nose was not at all something she wanted anyone to see. And yet, perhaps due to the severity of the flu, she couldn’t be bothered to be insecure in her appearance.
Besides, he seemed unbothered. He could have just left the stew and gone. Instead, he heartily answered every question she had.
As the conversation went on, she spoke less and less, the exhaustion sneaking in. Her eyelids became heavy and her limbs moved with great difficulty.
He took notice, pulling the blanket up for her.
“I will come back tomorrow to give you more food, if that pleases you.”
“I don’t want to trouble you or your chefs.”
“Nonsense. It is no trouble at all. These meals are one of the easier ones to make. It is only up to you if you’d like me to come.”
The thought of having to make her own meals made Sarah want to cry in defeat, so she nodded in acceptance.
Jareth went to close her blinds, but she stopped him.
“I want to see the sunset. I’m so busy every day that I sometimes forget to enjoy nature.”
His eyes lit up, hands pausing on the blinds.
Waving his hand, the Goblin King created a crystal, blowing on it.
The crystal scattered into millions of tiny shards, ascending to the sky.
The darkening-blue sky was now a beautiful pink and purple, the heavenly glow smiling upon those who basked in it.
I’ll place the sky within your eyes…
Sarah’s eyes continued to droop, even while remaining ever-bright, her smile content.
“Spinning Valentine Evenings,” she mumbled.
Jareth froze.
Did she say what he thought she said?
Sarah snuggled closer into her pillow. “Mornings of gold…”
He stayed by her side for a few moments longer, unable to tear himself away from her at that moment.
Once he was sure she was asleep, Jareth placed a lingering hand on her shoulder, resisting the urge to kiss her on the cheek.
“Sleep well, Sarah.”
Sarah hardly registered that it was a new day.
Chills cascaded from her body, seemingly starting from the inside out. Her whole body ached from the fever, sweat soaking her sheets, but she was too cold to remove them from her body.
Her heart rate rose, making it even harder to go back to sleep. She stayed in this state of imbalance and uncertainty of being too tired to do anything but lay down and yet, unable to sleep.
“This must be what purgatory feels like, if such a thing exists,” she thought to herself.
On top of that, she felt even more sluggish and disgusting from the gross mucus build-up in her sinuses and throat.
For the rest of the day, she drifted in and out of sleep, shivering for hours on end, it seemed.
She was only vaguely aware of someone dabbing a wet cloth to her forehead, urging her to drink water and some clear soup pressed to her parsed lips.
Her eyes blurred, a wave of emotions hit her when she realized that the last time someone took care of her when she was ill was more than a decade ago.
Not even her ex-boyfriends took care of her, despite telling her that they’d do anything for her.
“I didn’t even get flowers on Valentine’s Day,” she whined out loud in her stupor.
A different cloth came to dab under her eyes, making her aware of her tears cascading down her face.
She clung to the hand like a lifeline, pressing it to her cheek. The warmth, both physically and emotionally, emanating from it made her feel less cold and less lonely.
Had she been more conscious, she would have realized that this was the first time they made skin-to-skin contact.
“Drink this, Sarah,” the deep, comforting voice pleaded, squeezing her hand back.
She was sure there was some sedative in it, for she fell into a comfortable, dreamless sleep right after.
The next day, her fever didn’t break until it was almost evening. Even then, Sarah was still weak and zapped of energy.
However, she had been bed-ridden for almost three whole days now. She was tired of seeing the same four walls of her bedroom.
She managed to replace the bedsheets, take a shower, and get her mail before collapsing on her couch, with a book in hand.
She fought to stay awake, trying to stay engrossed in the book instead of looking around expectedly, hoping that she wouldn’t miss a potential visit from a certain king.
Just as the sun was setting and she nearly gave up, he walked out from her bedroom door to the living room with searching eyes, smiling at her.
He was wearing a different outfit today, although not too different than the one he had on when he first visited. He seemed more at ease, with his loose, white shirt and grey tights.
“You are looking much better than before.”
Sarah gestured to the seat next to her. “Thanks to you. I appreciate it. Do you want anything to eat or drink?”
He shook his head, giving her some stew.
“I could not ask you to do such a thing, not while still ill. Besides, I ate right before I came here. I would have been here earlier, but those damn goblins decided to make up some sort of chicken ritual. Had I disappeared, they would have tried to collectively bogged me.”
Sarah giggled. “Sounds like an eventful ritual.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
Sarah laughed again, eating the stew.
Jareth’s eyebrows shot up in remembrance. “I nearly forgot. I have this for you as well.”
On the small table between them, he placed an elegant crystal vase that refracted the light into different rainbows all over. In it was a light pink flower, not unlike a rose, with glittering edges.
Her heart thumped into her ribcage so loudly and so quickly, she was sure he could hear it.
There’s such a fooled heart…
Beating so fast…
“Wow, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You deserve flowers any and every day of the year, not just Valentine’s Day.”
Surprised, Sarah turned to him, finding a glimpse of longing in his eyes before he uncharacteristically turned away from her.
Feeling shy, she blushed, her brain not able to come up with an acceptable response.
Instead, she slightly deflected.
“I’ve never seen a flower like it.”
“It is one-of-a-kind. From my own personal garden.”
He spoke with the utmost pride.
Sarah carefully touched the cloud-like petals, amazed that it wasn’t made out of cloth from how soft and sturdy it was.
“What do you mean, one-of-a-kind?”
Jareth was pleased with her interest, even if she did move on too quickly from his Valentine’s Day comment.
“I have an interest in botany. It has taken me a long time to cross-breed different species of a flower into this one. There is currently another one growing, but the one you now have, is the only one that has managed to bloom so far.”
“Do you breed any other plants?”
“Yes, a few. Peaches are my specialty.”
At this, Sarah rolled her eyes, causing Jareth to laugh.
“Why does that not surprise me? Do the peaches have innate magic in them, or is that just your own doing?”
“They do not start off that way, no. That is my doing. I have found that certain breeds will make some spells more potent than others, if that makes sense. It is similar to how potions work by examining the ratios of ingredients to yield certain results.”
Sarah thought that sounded remarkably like the science experiments she did on a regular basis at her job. Same with medicine and baking.
“Our worlds really aren’t as different as they seem at first glance,” she remarked. “I’d love to learn more about yours.”
There was a bit of silence, until Jareth spoke.
“You could have experienced all my world has to offer, you know?”
His voice took Sarah out of her thoughts, so vulnerable in ways she didn’t think was possible.
She peered at him through her black hair, like it was some kind of shield from his melancholic eyes.
There’s such a sad love…
Deep in your eyes…
“I couldn’t,” she replied after a tense moment. “It was wrong of me to wish Toby away, and I had to fix it. It was the right thing to do.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I’m referring to. I’m referring to after. You said so yourself, that you needed us. All of us.”
His eyebrows scrunched together, desperately wanting her to understand that he was referring to himself, most of all.
“I made a mistake, and it was my job to fix it, no matter the temptations thrown at me. I was forever changed, realizing that even though I was wronged, I shouldn’t just complain nonstop and take it out on an innocent baby. Wasn’t that the whole point of you making me go through the Labyrinth?”
She angrily coughed, holding a hand up to stop him from replying, wanting to get her words out.
“Come to think of it, I didn’t know what your intentions were. How was I supposed to know if what you were doing was for my journey, meeting my expectations, as you put it, as opposed to what you wanted?”
“I know, and I deeply apologize for that. I was, am-” he corrected himself. “-quite lonely.”
Such a raw and deeply vulnerable admission shocked Sarah.
“Though you were of the age where, for most of human history, would have been considered an adult, you were still young and deserved to experience the world on your own terms. I did not think carefully and my main interactions each day are with my staff or goblins. You did not deserve to be left confused of my intentions due to my own shortcomings.”
Sarah took a moment to process all he said.
“Thank you, Jareth. I appreciate that very much. However, I’m not asking this to be accusatory by the way, but out of curiosity, have you been contemplating that apology for some time?”
He was pleased with the softer tone she was using, no longer upset and hurt, just wanting to understand.
“Yes. You changed a great deal during your journey, but you weren’t the only one challenged. I was too. I came out a humbled and a changed man. Being as long-lived as many of the faerie are, we often take our immortality for granted and do not appreciate the world, as we should be.”
He held a hand out, palm up.
“I want to rectify our tumultuous start. I want to know you, truly know you, as the woman are now. Those are my intentions if you will accept.”
Sarah found herself so lost in his sincere blue eyes, that she almost forgot to answer him.
A kind of pale jewel…
She placed her hand in his. “I accept, if I get to learn about you too.”
He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles, a tiny blush splashing across her cheeks, entrancing him.
For the rest of the evening, they discussed each other’s lives.
They spoke of Sarah’s tumultuous childhood when her parents divorced and how she only really felt empowered after her journey in the Labyrinth. She discussed her college years and then the subsequent years of her being a career-driven woman, still retaining her curious nature and awe of the world and of magic.
True to his word, Jareth revealed how he became king, that it was quite lonely but also made him more aware of the suffering of the world. Prior to that, he was a spoiled prince without a real purpose in life, trying to drown those thoughts away with constant parties and superficial relationships.
In the coming days, they would continue getting to know each other. What made their conversations so enjoyable was how they wanted to know who the other person was. Not just what they did, but what made them smile or how they problem-solved.
For Jareth, specifically, he found it refreshing how Sarah didn’t want to know him for proximity to power or how to hurt him. He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke so freely.
Sarah had admitted to herself years ago that she was immensely attracted to the villainous Goblin King physically. Now she was drawn to him emotionally and intellectually as well.
Was her heart moving too quickly?
Was she making a mistake?
Unbeknownst to her, Jareth’s heart already belonged to her.
On the day Sarah fully recovered, she did her hair, make up, and wore a green dress that brought out her eyes. She picked some jewelry, adding some sparkle to her outfit.
When Jareth finally came, his smile instantly lit the room.
“Your attire suits you, as does getting over your illness.”
“Thank you,” she responded, glancing at the floor, almost demurely, before looking back at him. “I did have some help in the latter. Thank you.”
He stopped in front of her, admiring her. “You’re welcome, Sarah.”
He cleared his throat, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, for a moment. Taking a breath, his eyes avoided her face, concentrating on the window instead.
“I have been wondering for quite some time, how much do you remember your time in the Labyrinth? Particularly the crystal dream.”
Sarah hadn’t expected such a forward question. A smile grew.
“I remember every detail of my journey.”
She carefully placed a hand on his. “Especially the crystal dream.”
When he finally met her eyes again, she continued.
“Every step of our dance, every lyric you sang to me has played over and over in my mind. I recorded it in my journal, afraid I would forget it. But nothing, and I really mean nothing, could make me forget it. It feels like it happened just this morning.”
Feeling more bold, she carefully wrapped her hand around his, touched when he closed his fingers around hers.
“Why do you ask?”
Stunned, Jareth took her other hand, intensely gazing into her eyes and down to her plump lips, back to her eyes.
He took her other hand, bringing them both up to his lips, running his thumbs over her knuckles.
“Because, Sarah, I had never been an active participant in a crystal dream before. Observer, yes, but not a participant. You dreamt it that way. You also dreamt for my heart song to be sung to you.”
“Heart… song?” Sarah repeated, melting under his gaze.
“It is what I call it. Many years ago, after I was corrupted by the faerie court and had become Goblin King, I composed that song, made out of my hopes and dreams for love. I witnessed love in many forms through my subjects interacting with each other, but never believed it would happen to me. I did so in secret, not wanting anyone to take advantage of the deepest parts of my soul.”
He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, Sarah’s eyes fluttering to a close.
“Somehow, a very determined young woman brought out my heart song in a dream of her own doing. She brought out a hidden part of myself that I wanted to forever bury, bringing it to the surface and breathed new life into it.”
In search of new dreams…
A love that would last…
The longing in his eyes held fear too. Fear that he said too much, that he laid his soul bare for no reason.
Sarah took his free hand, placing it on her heart.
Slowly, the fear in his eyes disappeared, replaced by hope.
“Jareth, you have my heart too. I only ask that you take care of it.”
His nose was touching her cheek.
“Always, Sarah.”
All other thoughts fled them as their lips touched.
Jareth’s hands switched from her face to her waist, pulling her close to him as he explored her mouth.
Sarah sighed as her hands made their way to his hair, the taste of him made her feel more alive than she had been in years.
Jareth groaned when she touched his pointy ears, kindling the flames of carnal desire. He moved his hands to her hips, making circles with his thumbs, trying to hold himself back.
Sarah broke the kiss, gasping for air as his hands moved lower. He chuckled, taking advantage of the separation to kiss her neck, then hugged her tightly, amazed at how perfectly she fit into his embrace.
“Sarah, I ask you to have dinner with me at my castle if you are amenable to that. A redo of Valentine’s Day, if you will.”
She grinned mischievously.
“I’d love to. On one condition.”
He raised a curious eyebrow.
“No soups or stews. I would like to thank the chefs who made them, though.”
They laughed, kissing passionately as they disappeared from her apartment in a shower of glitter.