The Goblin Kings Women

Disclaimer: I do not own “Labyrinth” or anything to do with it, neither do I own the lyrics to any song I put in her unless I say otherwise.

A/N: This was once upon a time an answer to a challenge, but since I do not know how to work said challenge into the “Plot” it is now just a regular story, with cliches abound in it.


But as I said when I first came out with this story I will not be updating quickly. Yes, again there is no sex in this chapter. It is slightly reflective. Uhm.. I am not sure when there will be any sex yet, I haven’t yet outlined the story. Jareth will not exactly be using Sarah, she is more of his pet (Er that doesn’t sound right), this chapter will sort of show Sarah’s power over Jareth. I just want to say quick that I sometimes switch from first person to second, but I usually separate the areas I do this in. It is often done on purpose. Sometimes it isn’t though so I will check on that. I know I am rambling, so on with the torture... Er ... story.


Chapter 3: Once Upon a Lie

She gulped down the warm, stale air. Which suffocated more than sustained, her lungs burned from the deep pulling breaths. Blood rushed in her veins as she pumped her legs faster and faster, running down the twisting path.


The walls glittered at her, secreting the musty scent of sweat and cobwebs. Long vines stuck out of crevices in the ancient wall, tiny round eyeballs protruding out of them and spying on her as she ran.


Trees grew up from the ground, snatching at her billowing shirt. The straw-gold sky hovered threateningly above her. A putrid eternal scent wafted vaguely past her nose, fog floated lazily in the sky. She could hear his mocking voice over her shoulder.


‘What a pity.’


Her thoughts screamed past her; contradicting themselves, running together in panic, ‘LeftrightstraightwhereamIwhydidIwanttobehereitwasjustastory.’


All she had wanted was an adventure. She had believed in the king in a mild sort of way. The way someone believed in the Easter bunny; because they were going to get something out of the belief.


She had just wanted to remain a spoilt child.


‘And that baby. That little stupid, annoying baby. God, if only it had shut up I wouldn’t be here. Goblin King, Goblin King where-ever you may be, take this wish far away from me.’

-----------------


Her first coherent thought was ‘Where am I?’


This was successively followed by ‘Who am I?’

The feeling of being hit hard in the head persisted. Her mind flashed blankly as she parted a sheet of clear-dripping crystals. Despite being unaware of her identity, she was compelled to move forward. The room was empty, bubbles drifting past her head, colors bursting within them. The free floating spheres were out of place in the immaculate room.


Two dancing figures swirled past her in a sensual waltz and it was as if they had always been there. She forgot that they had, a moment ago, not existed and watched them intently.


Their lush bodies clutched together desperately, both women held each other as if they couldn’t bare to let go. Their shimmering ball gowns twisted around their legs, the full brocade skirts bound them together with a swishing of fabric.


The bodices of their dresses wrapped tightly over their breasts, pressing the soft flesh high upon their collar bone. Other beings faded in at the corners of her peripihal vision. Colorful lights pulsing against their skin like halos’.


The glowing lights pushed against each other, fighting for dominance. The elegantly clad dancers flew swiftly across the creme-marble floor. Their faces were radiant. The clearest skin, their hair was in smooth curls or flowing straight down their soft backs. All visible skin was brushed with a powdered glitter.


The dances were twirling, dipping, clipped. They were so graceful that the tiny intimate touches were almost impersonal.


Almost.


Than came the masks.


The first she saw shoved her mind back too quick for her body to follow. Grimacing features, the nose sharp enough to cut, or bulbous and squishing. Nostrils flared wide, the mouth’s twisted in infinite displeasure or wide leering grins.


She turned, pushing away with her shoulders, they were all too close.


More gruesome masks appeared, covering the lovely faces. She tried not to see the masks, her mind worked to, again, grasp the godlike visages from before. But a perversity of their gazes, a pure gloating twinkle that appeared from the actual eyes, told her their beauty was truly only skin deep.


‘Their laughing at me!’


She thought, as a portly man with a red mask thrust a chicken head at her.


The masks embodied all childhood horrors. The demons under her bed, ready to snatch at her. To rip her flesh from her muscles and gnaw on her broken bones. The eyes squinted gleefully up at her, the noses twitched as they sniffed her fear, their forms tensing to pounce.


Then a flash of cooling blue shot out past the corner of her eye and everything that was women in her reacted. Shivering and burning. She turned in circles trying to find it, wanting that shivering pleasure again.


All around her women leaned upon the nearest man, thrusting their melon-like breasts out, shimming plump hips. She felt gagging revulsion climbing up her throat. She could feel a heat, a wanting which scratched at her skin, pulsed in her blood. Someone was watching her, needing her. The champagne-bubbling lights flooded and burned her eyes. Bounced off the cobweb sequins of her gown.


The aura-halo’s were not so pretty anymore, hostility and hunger twinkled all around them. She saw him pressed between two women, their flesh pressing into his velvet blue coat, trying to imprint its design’s onto their skin.

Alabaster skin as white and clear as the milky stars. His flaxen hair brushed his skin like the lightest ivory feather, afraid of being cut upon those sharp cheekbones.


‘EyesEyesEyes, Oh his Eyes.’ She danced in their glistening depths, She was there, wildly flinging sable hair, her long fingers brushing down her silken-ivory skin. Her nipples were the pinkest coral poking through her gown in insistent points as her she splayed her fingertips along the bottom of her breasts. She pushed them past her naval, to her hips as they thrust from side to side. Undulating smoothly like a snake.


She shook her head vehemently at the sight swimming in his eyes. ‘That’s not me!’ She denied, ‘That little dancing sliver is not me!’


He stood and flowed to her, his arms opening in invitation and her mind cleared gloriously as she fell into his freezing form desperately.


And she knew no one could save her.


No one would help the little lost child.


She would forever be blind to that cruel, hideous mask he wore.

------------------


The knock pounded loudly in the painful silence that is early morning. A strong knuckle continued pounding sharply on thick wood. Sarah grumbled unhappily at the stark intrusion of her deep sleep and nudged her face more deeply into her source of brazing warmth.


Jareth’s arm tightened involuntarily on her waist, and he groaned in frustration. His displeasure at being awakened clear upon his face. He breathed in deeply and bellowed at the annoyance to enter.


Sarah flinched at the surprising sound of Jareth’s voice, loud in her ear. Her eyes fluttered open as the large chamber doors opened and closed, with a resounding slam.


One of the chamber maid’s, Grisle, skirted inside the pitch-black room. Errant blonde strands frizzed from beneath her kerchief, her young face wreathed in mock smiles for the Kings eyes. She bobbed an abrupt, polite curtsey and placed a gold gilded breakfast tray upon the small mahogany morning table. She bowed her head humbly and murmured, “Breakfast M’lord.” Than, sending a look of envious hatred in Sarah’s direction, she turned upon her heel and flounced off.


Sarah rolled from Jareths’ warm form. All of them despised her. Every time she remembered that fact it was a shock, like it was something new.


When any of the serving women saw her, they glared and sneered. Poked and boxed her ears in secret, all because they knew she was Jareth’s favorite.


He lifted himself from the bed, walking toward the food. He looked at the array of delectable nourishment in front of him and popped a slice of Honeydew melon into his open mouth.


Waking with Sarah in his bed, her taste roiling in his mouth, was a particularly troubling experience. Ensuring his morning erection was longstanding, the first thing he felt being her soft breast pressed into his side.


Sarah rose from the bed and stretched, her young limbs renewing themselves with movement. She looked at his tray and huffed seeing what it missed in an instant. She floated across the room and opened the chamber door. She pushed her neck out the entrance, asking the guard at the entrance post to bring His Majesty’s morning glass of wine.

Jareth allowed a small smile to grace his countenance at the sound of his almost-conqueror calling him ‘Majesty’. She would bathe him every morning with her small soft hands for the rest of her life, in other words: Forever.


He lifted a buttered scone and beckoned her to him. She opened her full, blushing lips obediently and he popped the tidbit into her mouth.


Yes, it was good to be King.


------------


The round surface of the viewing crystal was smooth and cool to the touch, the figure of some young women begging for her child back blinked inside the orb. She was sincere in her pleas, but the King is merciless to his opponents.


The inhabitant’s of the castle; maid and goblin alike, watched the girl whimper with malicious glee. They laughed and pointed, mocking her with their own little performances of her actions.


Sarah sat in the corner, petting the wished away daughter’s fine red curls. She cooed softly in the child’s ear, calming it as an errant thought raced away in her mind, “Toby!”


Sarah didn’t laugh with them at the woman’s predicament.


She never did.


----------


The little girl’s face was buried in my neck as she slept peacefully. Jareth had begun insisting that I take care of the “Unwanted” children as they were raced for. I tilted the babe’s face back, looking at the soft peach-toned skin and long eyelashes.


‘Not unwanted.’ I thought, pressing a kiss to her silken forehead.


The mother was young.


Barely a child herself.


My age.


She didn’t know what to do with her, she screamed and screamed, both child and mother. The babe’s father was still there; but he was also young.


They hadn’t known it would happen so easily. Both of them just wanting to please each other on their first time. He didn’t know what to do with either of them. They both terrified the poor boy.


In her state of mind the mother was barely recognizable. She hadn’t meant the words, it just wouldn’t stop screaming; she had done everything she could to shut it up.


‘But, I didn’t mean them.’


I stood, cradling the baby, Lilith she was named. She’d like the garden, with its bursts of unfettered color. I settled upon one of the curving stone benches, it was surrounded by tons of white blossom’s. Lilith squirmed in awakening, a deep whine began thrumming in her pale throat.


I cuddled her closer, trying to stop the cry. She began rooting around the soft flesh of my breast with her mouth. She whimpered pitifully in hunger; she was about three months old. Still on the breast.


I leaned over and plucked a milk blossom, which had large pockets filled with milk. It had a small puckering point for the child to suckle. Jareth had made his servants plant these blossoms every where to feed the younger babes. I placed the imitation nipple to Lilith’s mouth and she latched on greedily.


I smiled down at her, it wasn’t this poor baby’s fault. It was not her Mothers fault either. Stress made a body do insane things.


I opened my mouth, not in control of what came tumbling from it.


“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl, who’s step mother always made her take care of the baby. The baby was sweet and beautiful and all things innocent, but the girl was jealous, because their Father loved the baby more.....”


---------------

Jareth’s riding crop slapped against his thigh as he paced impatiently. The goblins squirmed around uncomfortably at their lords obvious agitation.


Some of the protruding eyes still clung to the luminous sphere, as they watched the young mother struggle through the fiery forest. The serving men and women had cleared out, not being allowed in the throne room when the king was.


Random snorts and growls emitted from knobbly green forms, which lazed about on the stone floor. Jareth looked to the crystal, then glanced about at the uncouth creatures he was stuck with.


His mind was on Sarah, she had seemed subdued this morning, not as attentive as usual. Not focused on her tasks at all.


He exhaled roughly and walked off to the direction of the garden, where his almost-champion spent her free time. She sat amid the milk blossoms and ambrosia’s, whispering to the feeding babe in her arms. Her chestnut hair lay flowing upon her back, the sun shining upon the loose strands, her skin glowed and she smiled happily at the fascinated babe.


Jareth flinched back and blinked, the image firmly entrenched in his thoughts. His minds eye warped what he saw. Instead the child’s hair was dirty blonde, it’s tiny pink mouth attached to Sarah’s breast, feeding hungrily at the nipple.


In his mind he saw HIS child suckling at it’s mothers breast.


He schooled his face into a mask of indifference as he walked to her. Upon hearing her whispered words, he froze.


“But what no-one knew, was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, despite her jealousy, her vindictiveness. And he had given her special powers. So one night, after her father had ignored her and deemed her wicked; she called on the goblins for help.”


His breath was icy as he listened, he had heard a similar tale before, by this same girl. But it was a story she shouldn’t remember. His mind turned at the way she had changed it.


“The girl watched in fear as the Goblin King answered her summons. In the place of his usual soft linen shirt and breeches, he wore black armor. The breast plate glimmered in the night, his form became terrifying to her like it never had before. His shining hair loose around his face like a crown. His face etched in sadness, ‘Please..’ the girl begged, ‘I didn’t mean it.’


He sighed in distress, ‘Despite how much I wish to, I cannot leave without a mortal.’ The girls mind reeled as she clutched for a solution, ‘Take me instead,’ She begged her love...”

“Sarah,” Jareth interrupted, her head jerked up in surprise, cheeks staining pink. “Your story telling abilities leave me in envy, but I advise you not to get attached.” She frowned at the thought of this babe being turned into a goblin, like the multitudes before her. “It’s not fair.” She whispered.


But Jareth’s keen ears heard her, ‘She’s still Sarah, her characteristics are still the same.’ He sat next to her, running a finger against the babe’s soft hand. In reflex the child squeezed the blossom’s pouch and sucked the tip harder, hoping her food wouldn’t be stolen from her.


“But’s that’s the way it is.” He whispered, and so Sarah kept her tears hidden until he left. They fell like soft twinkling lights onto the child’s pinkening cheeks.


------------


A/N: In the beginning Sarah’s name isn’t said because she doesn’t know who she is. It is supposed to be vague, although I am afraid it does jump around a bit. And some parts are a little too vague, it is a bit of a rough draft which I just wanted to post it quick because I hadn’t updated in so long. I can’t seem to find any inspiration for any of my stories anymore, it is so frustrating. I am not sure if I will be updating this story anymore, it’s kinda hard to since I don’t know where I am going with it.