I don't own Labyrinth nor do I claim too.
Introduction:
He never dreamt he could feel the way he did now. He, the king of goblins, in love. He grimly chuckled at his idiocy as dark liquid waved onto the sides of the jeweled chalice in between his fingers. Despair caressed the uneasiness he felt deep within the icy layers of his soul for the one he loved did not return his hearty emotion, she had defined him. He could not bear the bitter-tasting irony. It gnawed at him until he began to fear that there would be nothing left of him. The grip on the golden cup tightened while mismatched eyes trembled to a close. The pain of rejection was more than he could tolerate. Jareth, the lord of the labyrinth, was losing a dying battle with his sanity and heart.
The chalice spilled from his fingers. It contents splashing into the dirt-filled gaps in between the lager stone slabs creating the floor. The frail cup splintered into small golden shards, much like the heart lay wounded in his breast. Jareth's flesh itched with a burning sensation as anger boiled deep with in him. He stubbornly refused to be denied, to masquerade as broken fool. This path of action was for the weak and Jareth could not allow himself to grow into the unwanted role of a self pitied immortal, not because of her.
Sarah.
The name was venom on the tip of his tongue and she had poisoned him. The Goblin King sobbed aloud. Her eyes of jeweled green, hair of glossed ebony and skin of alabaster porcelain, they all swam into the open gates of his aching mind, fulfilling a mental picture of her. It only angered him more. She was haunting him, yet she contained no powers within her mortal bounds.
Growling, Jareth swiped a gloved hand over his the damp surface of his face. He damned her, though still he wanted her and he could never have her. He wished that she feel his pain, taste his bitterness toward her. Could it happen? Could she ever know?
Jareth grimaced. Never. Sarah could never comprehend true longing, true pain or suffering. She was only a child. What could the little spoiled brat know about anything other than what she need, what she must have and what she must do to reach her goals. He laughed aloud, the wheels in his mind whirling.
If she did not know how it felt, then why couldn't he teach her? Mold her to feel pain and torment. He may not have power over her, but he knew those who did. Why not tug their strings, force them to do his bidding and lead his precious Sarah into the full pledged rage of his forces. She would be his and only his. His to taunt as he see fit, to claim and behold.
Self-esteem rising, the Goblin King rose from his throne to the window across the room. He gazed out of it as a plan churned within the darkness of his thoughts. The sun rose over the sun-baked hills around the maze surrounding his kingdom. It was a new day, a new beginning filled with new promise, none of which Jareth wanted to lose.