Author's Note: I had this idea in my head, but if it's already been done I will remove this one-shot. This story is entirely mine. However, the characters and anything pertaining to the film belong to Terry Jones, George Lucas, and … of course, Jim Henson. Without their brilliant teamwork, I don't think such a wonderful story could exist.
Un Jour... /One Day...
It was five years old. The tiny red box had withstood the years, the neglect, and the darkness of the closet from which it resided. But now, it finally saw the sun. Thin hands brushed back the dust from its lid, eyes peering at it curiously. Out of better curiosity, the hands lifted off the lid to behold a small book. The Labyrinth!
Sarah Williams, now twenty, stared at the small book in her hands. How could a book so small change her life is so many ways? She leaned back against her bed; unable to believe how much she had forgotten it. She had forgotten how she would spend every day bending over the small book and memorizing each line with fervency.
Leaning her head back on the mattress, she thought back on those days. Her eyes beheld visions of a young girl, standing before her mirror, replaying the lines to an array of black and white photographs. She pretended that her mother was looking at her as she performed, smiling and giving every bit of encouragement she could give to a daughter that wanted to follow in her footsteps.
But, you weren't there… Sarah looked down into the box, her hand removing a small photograph of her mother. You weren't there, at all… When she was young, she believed her mother would come back for her. Come to take her away from the duties of being an older sister, a slave, and a wistful dreamer and change her into something that she wanted to be.
Throwing the two items back into the box, she slammed the lid back on. It was a desperate attempt to stop the onslaught of memories. Besides the book and the pictures of her mother and her, there were other things. Things she almost wanted to forget. She stood up, her eyes wandering out of the window to look at the sky. It was getting dark.
She exited her room, charging down the stairs with the small box towed underneath her arm. She looked to the grandfather clock, seeing that it was 7:30. It wouldn't take more than a half an hour, she thought, moving past the living room.
"Sarah!"
She turned her eyes to behold Toby, running at her with a small doll clutched in his hand. His eyes shone brightly at her. She smiled back, glad to know that her old things were still needed by someone. Toby continued to look up at her with awe, as any young brother would behold his hero.
"Where are you going, Sarah?"
"Out," Sarah said, "I'll be back. And when I do come back, we'll play a game."
Toby turned his head to stare out the window, and as he did so he clutched the small teddy bear tightly to his chest. His eyes turned back to Sarah, horrified.
"It's dark!" It was a small protest, weak, but enough to almost regret leaving him alone with her father and Karen. She turned her head to look in at her parents. They were seated in the small living room, her father reading a paper and Karen watching something on the television.
"I will come back, I promise," she said, ruffling his hair. She went to the coat rack to fetch her cardigan. Toby followed her, slowly and hesitantly.
"What about the scary man at the window?"
This made Sarah pause as she zipped up her sweater. "What scary man?"
Toby's eyes looked around hesitantly. "I saw him," was all Toby could say before running back into the living room. Sarah found herself a bit shaken by the fact Toby saw someone at the window. Was it recently? She opened the door and peered outside. There was no one, just the sound of crickets chirping and cars passing on the street a few blocks away.
"I'm going out!" Sarah called back into the house, waiting for a reply.
"Be back before it gets dark!" Her father called, followed by Toby saying something as well. She heard Karen's voice chime in, but she did not bother to stay and listen. Closing the door, she looked over on the porch. Merlin, now ten, watched her with keen interest—as any loyal dog would do.
"Come on, Merlin," she said, patting her knee. "Wanna go for a walk?"
Merlin always loved walks, and so he quickly went to his feet and sauntered over to her. She hurried down the steps, Merlin following behind. Pulling up her hood, she jogged across the grass. She liked the feeling of the breeze on her face. Merlin seemed to be enjoying the run as well. They leaped over the small hedge. She remembered taking this path every day to the park when she was younger. She was on her way to the one spot where she wouldn't be disturbed, the one place that felt like home.
X
Approaching the park, she took instant notice that she was the only one there. The fact it was also nearly eight justified that many people were at home. Thankful that she wouldn't be disturbed, she made her way over to the great oak tree. Beneath the large oak tree there was a stone bench. As if on accord, Merlin made his way to the bench and hopped up onto it. She nearly paused at the freakiness of it, but shrugged it off. It's because I made him do it so often, she reassured herself.
Placing the box on the ground, she rested on her knees. In her error, she brought no shovel. I guess I'll be doing it the hard way. Her fingers began to claw at the dirt, trying her best to dig quickly before the light was truly gone.
Merlin barked and she instantly turned her head. She could see he was staring at something, but what she could not tell. From her point of view they were the only people in the park. Giving a final glance around, she resumed her task. The hole becoming deeper and her fingernails caked in dirt.
Merlin barked again. This time, she turned to him directly. "What is it, boy? There is no one here." She looked around once more, still seeing no one. Annoyed, she returned to her task, the hole almost the right size for the box.
Merlin barked again. She ignored it and reached for the box. But something slammed on the lid, something long and pointed. Her eyes looked upward and she stumbled back, nearly crawling away from what she saw. Part of her willed it to be a dream, and yet part of her knew that what she saw existed—whether she liked it or not.
"Never do you fear danger, Sarah Williams." The intruder said, his gloved hands tightening on the top of the cane.
First, she answered dumbly. "Who are you?"
He smiled a wicked smile that only made her notice that his teeth were slightly pointed and seemed to glow in the dusk. "You know who I am, love."
And she did, and a part of her mind believed it not to be him. For the man or the thing standing before he looked nothing like the one she had seen those years ago. This was a more mythical creature. His hair was long and unkempt, falling on shoulders in layered locks. His eyes slanted and pointed, as well as his ears. His skin was pale with a light hue, giving him an unearthly tone to his being made him seem to glow. His clothing was quite the same, however. Dressed completely in dark blues and violets, his cape spilled out around him like the night.
"The Goblin King?" Those three words seemed to stun him more than it did herself. He loosened his grip on his cane, his head held a bit higher. She was frightened now, not knowing the reason for him being here.
"You must be wondering why I am here," he said drawled,"but I believe, you already know the answer. You have something that belongs to me, Sarah. I want it."
"Toby is not yours, I won him back!"
He scowled, lifting the cane off the box, and twirling it as would a baton twirler in a parade would. He seemed annoyed, distracted even at her ignorance. "I do not want your baby brother, Sarah. I want the box, but more importantly, I want what's inside the box."
Her eyes looked down to the slightly dented red box. "The Labyrinth?"
"Yes," he said quietly, "I want the book, Sarah."
"Why?" She asked, not understanding why he would want something so small and unimportant would mean so much to him. "Why do you want the book?"
"I don't think that's any of your concern," he snapped back at her. "Now, if you please," he said a bit more gently, his eyes looking down at the box. Instead of sliding it over to him, she brought it slowly back to her side. He did not look shocked at the gesture. But he gripped his cane a bit more tightly.
"I think it's my concern, because it's mine…And," she said with a pause, "it must be a great deal for you to show up and face me after what had happened."
"Wrong on both counts, dear Sarah," he said softly, his face quite expressionless. "And I believe, from the looks of it, you are more afraid of me…" He pointed to the box with his cane, which added to empathize his point. "Is that so?"
Her throat was dry, but she pulled the box closer to her. She cradled it now against her chest, staring at him with a loss for words. He smiled.
"I know you, Sarah, never forget that. You cannot lie to me, or trick me into thinking otherwise. You plan on burying the box in hopes of me never appearing to you again…"
"Yes," she said determinedly, "I will bury it."
He cocked an eyebrow. He said nothing, his silence made up for the loss of words. She was sure that he was thinking of their last encounter. He had offered himself to her. She rebuffed him, and using the power he gave her, sent him wounded back to the Underground.
He finally moved, circling the hole she made and standing in the light of the setting sun. "Do you ever wonder how the Labyrinth became in your possession?" Sarah shook her head slightly. Jareth took his cane and pinned it behind his back, smirking. "Of course you don't, you just found it one day and assumed any little story made up for it's appearance."
"Are you saying that this book is yours?"
"Precisely," he said softly, stepping closer to her. She did not recoil, but continued to stay still. I will not recoil, no matter what.
"I don't understand. Why do you want the book?"
"Will you never be satisfied, Sarah, from the answers I give?" He asked her, stunned. And then he laughed, shaking his head. His long locks of hair seemed almost transparent in the dying sun. "Of course," he murmured, "what a pity."
"Why exactly do you pity me?" Sarah demanded instantly. He is trying to distract me! With a small cry, she pounded the ground. "Damn it, you are changing the subject!" She watched him make a small smirk, but he hid it instantly with a brush of his fingers against the bridge of his nose.
"If you want the book so much," she said, "why are you not ripping it from my fingers? You are the powerful, almighty, Goblin King." She rolled her eyes at that last comment.
He turned around, studying her, contemplating her words. "I cannot."
"You can't or you won't?" She asked, confused.
"I can't, Sarah. If I could, we wouldn't be having this conversation," he said, in a bored tone.
She looked down at the book, studying it hard. It had to be magical, it was protected by a fey spell of some sort that she only had control over.
This made her wonder something. "Do you regret giving the book to me?"
He was silent. His thumb brushed against the top of his cane, tracing the crystal ball, which looked identical (but smaller) than the ones he usually materialized out of thin air. His eyes narrowed again, and softened.
"Yes", he said finally, "I do regret giving the book to you."
"Why?" She asked.
"How many questions must you ask, Sarah? Be grateful that I have answered one at least truthfully…"
"But you will not answer the others that are far easier than the last!?" She cried.
"We fey are a tricky sort, we choose what we want to answer, and when we want to answer…"
She bit her lip, and forced herself into a silence that left Jareth speechless as well. He continued to stare at her, studying her, waiting for her next move. She removed her eyes from him, gazing off past him to look at the last of the setting sun. I must figure this out myself.
"Then, you have lost. I will never give you the book…"
He nodded once. She stood, turned, and patted her knee for Merlin, and he hopped off the bench. Merlin trotted up next to her, and she looked back at Jareth. With a flourish of his cape, he walked over to the bench and sat down on it. One leg up on it, arm draped over his knee lazily, and twirling his cane absently, he stared at the moon in the sky.
She was stunned.
"I thought you were leaving Sarah," he said, not bothering to look at her. "I see no reason for you to still be here. I am not bothering you; I'm just enjoying the night."
"I just don't understand. Wouldn't you know that I would deny you again?" She asked him. "You know me so much, you say, didn't you know that I would just …" she trailed off, not knowing how to continue her thought.
Merlin pressed against her knee, and she reached down and scratched his head. Still Jareth remained silent. He continued to twirl his cane, his gaze distant and unfocused.
"Look," she said, "I just want a simple answer on why you want the book. If you say why you want it, I'll give it to you."
"I don't want the book, Sarah," he snapped, "It's yours."
"What? Then why are you here? Why did you even bother talking to me?"
"Do I have to explain all my motives to you?!"
"No," she said, "I just want to know why you'd care so much to see me."
He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, and then returned his gaze to the moon. "I chose to see you, Sarah, because you intrigue me. You have since the moment I gave you the book, you were…a wish. Just like you wished for me," he said, looking at her directly.
"I …didn't wish for you," she murmured.
"You wished for me Sarah Williams, may not the Goblin King per-se, but you wished for me. And by the Underground, I wished for you."
The intensity of the gaze he held on her was mesmerizing, frightening even.
"I recall every one of your dreams, Sarah," he said wistfully, conjuring a crystal in place of the cane, and looking into it. "Each one was to live a life like your mother's. You wanted to be like her so much, and you wanted a man in your life equal to that of the one she had…Jeremy." He rolled the crystal over his hand, dancing like a boat on the sea.
"You wished for me. You wanted no ordinary man, you wanted one that didn't exist," he said, the crystal stopping in the palm of his hand. He tossed it up into the air, and then it was gone. "You wanted me Sarah, and when you got me, you were too scared to admit that."
"Stop," she said, turning away from him, "just stop it."
"No, Sarah, I will not. I can see your conflict even now! Right now, you believe this is another one of your fantasies. But I'm real," he said angrily, "I'm very real. And if there is any person who would want answers it would be me."
"You're not real," she murmured, "things don't have power unless you say that they have power. You have no power over me," she said again, hoping that this would make him vanish. But he continued to remain seated on the stone bench, a thin smile forming at his lips.
"You humor me, Sarah, but words will not stop me from getting what I want," he said softly, standing up from the bench. She backed away slowly, not knowing what he was going to do.
"Then what do you want?! Me?" She cried.
"A wish is still a wish," he said, carelessly, while striding closer to her. She turned to flee, but nearly ran into him. He had used magic to now stand between her and escaping his grasp. He reached out with his hands and captured her wrists with his gloved hands. She struggled to free herself, but for being so thin, he was amazingly strong.
"Let go of me," she whispered, "now."
"No, Sarah," he said, his voice pained with unknown emotion. "Let us end our lying, now, did you wish for me? Tell me!"
"Yes!" She shouted, tears falling down her face. "I wished for you. There, I said it! When I was younger I wished for you. I dreamed of you, Jareth. Are you happy now?" Her sobs overtook her, and she couldn't choke out another sentence.
"Yes, and no," he said, releasing one of her wrists and capturing her chin with a gloved hand. "I want something more, Sarah." His gloved thumb slowly over her cheek, and she felt his thumb slide to her bottom lip. "You're trembling, are you scared of what I will ask of you?"
She shook her head, and he cocked his head to the side. She closed her eyes and nodded her head once.
"Good," he murmured, "very good."
He tilted her head up a fraction, and she opened her eyes again.
And then, he kissed her. His other hand loosened on her wrist, and slipped around her waist, pulling her against him.
Things raced through Sarah's mind, things that she only thought of in the privacy of her room. Then, she couldn't believe it. He was kissing her! She was kissing him! Or was it the other way around? It felt right, but then it felt incredibly wrong.
She pulled her lips away from his, shocked beyond words.
"Actions speak louder than words, don't they?" He let go of her. "That is what I wanted to know. You strive to be an actress, and yet, the greatest act you are living is life." He brushed a fingertip across her cheek and trailed it under her chin. "You still feel for me, Sarah."
"Yet, why did you defy me?" His voice asked, cutting through the last words still echoing in her mind. "Was your dream far too much frightening for you to bear?"
"I thought…I thought dreams should be earned in time," she heard herself say, and his eyes widened.
"Is that so? Then what becomes of me? What becomes of me, Sarah? If I can't give you your dreams, what purpose do I have in your life?" His voice resembled that of a snake, hissing each word as if it were venom. He turned away, gesturing about. "This world, this Aboveground, you suffer so greatly in it! Your dreams are so hard to achieve..."
"Do you not understand anything, Jareth?" She said sharply. "In the real world, we don't rely on fantasy creatures to grant wishes nor have other people work for them! Dreams are acquired in time, in hard work, and the thought that you worked to get them…it means more than having them granted."
He turned on his heel, stepping away from her as if he was disgusted with her. He made a gesture with his hand and a crystal appeared. His back was tense, and all what was moving was his hair in the breeze and the crystal dancing over his fingers. It seemed to relax him.
"You do not understand," he said shortly, "I know nothing of how mortals live, except from what I learned from every dammed child that enters my labyrinth! I watched each one enter, and each one fail… I knew, however, when I gave you the book, you were the one. You were the one who could free me from this entrapment. I wanted to grant someone's dream, and I wanted to grant yours…I gave you myself, because you wished for me. I gave you my heart, my world, and you turned to the book for answers. The book was a guide, more or less. But you made it your world. So," he said, softly, "what choice did I have than to follow your expectations of the book, and, what of the character all mortals perceive us to be?"
"I'm sorry," she said after a moment, "I never knew."
"You couldn't have," he said, looking over his shoulder for a moment, "then again, I sometimes don't know myself…"
Sarah looked down at the small box in her hands that held the book that gave her so much comfort, so much freedom in her life. And when she tore her eyes from the book, to the real problem, the Goblin King stood in front of her. He was far from fantasy, for he was real. And he was admitting his love to her. He wantedher.
She lifted her hand to her lips, the haunting memory of his thin lips on her own. It was her first kiss, her first meaningful kiss shared with someone she was not entirely sure if she wanted to. But it happened. She couldn't return it, because he was right.
He was right about everything. Burying the book wasn't going to solve anything. It had nothing to do with the book. It had to do with him. It had to do with the fact that he had watched her, wished for her, and wanted her to return his love.
"Jareth," she said, testing his name out finally. He turned abruptly, looking at her quizzically. She dropped the box on the ground, and stepped over it, staring directly at him, and only at him. "Do you love me?"
"When have I ever not?"
It was all she needed to know. She ran to him, embracing him tightly. She felt him tense underneath her arms, and then relax slowly. Her cheek was pressed against the smooth skin of his revealed chest and she was surprised to feel how warm he was. How alive… indeed, he was nothing of unreal to her, he was very real.
He pulled her head up, searching her eyes for a sign. Whatever sign it was, he couldn't find it in her wide hazel eyes, and so he slowly pressed his lips to hers once more. This kiss was unlike the first one, but it felt dangerous, exciting, and demanding. She could feel him pressing her closer to his chest.
Merlin barked, and she turned her head. But Jareth grabbed her chin once more, turning her attention back to him. His thumb brushed against her cheek.
"Am I real to you now?" He asked her.
"Yes," she said, "very real, Jareth," she whispered, pressing her lips against his again.
His hands began wandering the expanse of her back, and then, she felt his leather clad fingers press against her skin. Her hand gripped his arm, trying to get a grip on him as he caressed her.
"Sarah," he began, breaking away from her lips and moving them towards her ear, "my dear, tell me what you want. Tell me what I can give you," he purred against her skin.
She moaned breathlessly, rolling her head back a tad further as his lips then began to assault her neck. Her hands undid themselves around his waist and slid up his back, tangling in the lower parts of his long hair.
"Sarah, do you want me—do you want me to be more than real to you?"
She nodded, and he picked her up within his arms and carried her over to the bench. He sat down, holding her on his lap. His hands slid down to her hips, then to her legs, parting them so that she could sit astride him. The material in her jeans rose tightly against her skin.
He then took her hand and pressed it against her own, mirroring the two. He then swiftly brought her hand to the lower part of his body. Her eyes widened as she touched the large bulge at the front of his pants, hot and heavy. She turned her head aside, and tried to take her hand away.
"Now, does that feel real to you?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Sarah?"
She nodded, and he brought her face back to his, searching her eyes for another sign. He couldn't tell her flat out that he had dreamed of her succumbing to his advances like this. Nor could she tell him that she wanted this. It seemed odd that a moment ago, they could have bickered throughout eternity. But now, they were embracing each other as if they were long lost lovers in a romance novel.
"I must touch you Sarah," he pleaded, "it is the only way I can believe this is not a dream to me…"
She nodded slowly, and he slowly brought his hand to the front of her jeans. She moaned and rested her head gently on his shoulder, closing her eyes. Jareth did the same, though placing a kiss against her neck.
"Believe me, Sarah, when I say that no goddess or mortal has ever tempted me. It has been you, it always has been you."
She smiled, her eyes drifting to the box on the ground. The Labyrinth still rested inside.
Author's Note: This is just a simple test with Labyrinth readers and the fiction in general. I was going to go into smut, but I thought it'd be good to end here. So, in case I ever wanted to make a story out of this one shot, I would be open to do so.
I appreciate all and any reviews I get on my work. Please, no flames. And, like always, the review button is just a click away. Thanks for reading!