A/N: 'Ello babes! Here I present the opening chapter to my first chaptered Labyrinth fanfiction. I do hope you enjoy, and if you do please drop me a line. If you don't, still let me know what I can do to improve. This will likely be a lengthy story, currently I am expecting about 15 chapters or so. I hope to update on a weekly basis. Without further ado...


Weaver

By: Crescent

Chapter 1: Lost

Sharp as razor blades, rays of the dawn sun illuminated Sarah's dorm. Her tired eyes fluttered open as she rolled over to glance toward her alarm clock. 6:58 AM. With a groan, Sarah switched the alarm off prematurely and grabbed her bathroom caddy, yawningly making her way to the communal hall facilities. She hated sharing a bathroom with so many people, but was thankful for her single room. Roommate experience be damned- in her bedroom, alone, was Sarah's happy place. It always had been.

Sarah swept up her lengthy chestnut locks, leaned close to the mirror and noted the ever deepening dark circles surrounding her swampy green eyes. She prepared her toothbrush and unceremoniously plopped it into her mouth.

"Nice PJs," Ashlee, her neighbor, announced her presence. She politely added a shrill giggle in case Sarah failed to grasp the sarcastic tone. Having instinctively turned around to identify the intruder, Sarah offered a toothbrush marred smirk before returning to her morning routine. She glanced Ashlee's direction, assured her attention had passed, then tugged her tiny shorts down self consciously. She compared her long legs, thickened from the required dance classes for musical theater, to Ashlee's perfectly lithe ones, complete with a gap between her thighs. With her petite frame and long, silvery platinum hair, Ashlee reminded Sarah of a fairy. Her nasty disposition, too.

Sarah finished her hygienic duties and returned to her room to dress for the day. She slid her favorite jeans on, and snatched a black button down blouse from her closet. The candy red buttons always strained at her ample breasts, but Sarah dearly loved the small white polka dots and plump cherries that patterned the shirt. Smoothing the tangles, she transformed her messy bun into a sleek ponytail, slid her Scandalous Scarlet lipstick into her pocket and lugged her bookbag onto her back. She stepped into her black Toms and stepped out of her room, being sure to lock the door behind her. The men-no, boys-from across the hall were apt to breaking into female dorms to raid their drawers for the prize of the skimpiest pair of panties.

Who decided that 8am was the best time to analyze the complexity that is the human brain? Sarah mulled over what awful things she would do to the person as she walked. It certainly wasn't the professor-he looked about as happy to be there as any of the students, and was famous for showing up moments before the 10 minute cutoff given for students to leave if the professor didn't show. Upon reaching the classroom, Sarah sunk into her unofficial designated seat, chosen at the beginning of the year-close enough to the front that it looked like she cared, but beside the door to provide a quick getaway.

"Today, my gloomy pupils," the professor began, startling Sarah out of her thoughts. "We are going to begin our unit on dreams." The class audibly approved, and Dr. Weaver added, "This won't involve experimentation, unfortunately. I need all attention up here, not on the back of your eyelids." Groans erupted from the lecture hall.

He didn't need to convince Sarah, as soon as he mentioned the word "dream" she was all ears. It had been years since she remembered a dream upon waking, and she missed the fantasies she conjured up at night as a child and young teen. Maybe she could finally unlock her dreams again.

"Now, class, I'm sure you realize every human dreams. But did you realize that everyone dreams every time they enter REM, that is the Rapid Eye Movement, stage of sleep? Some are luckier than others in remembering their dreams, but we all do it," Weaver began his lecture. Sarah took in his teachings with wide eyes and a quick pencil. She lingered as the rest of the class filed out the door, and approached her professor once the classroom was deserted.

"Er… Dr. Weaver? I have a, uh… well, I have a question regarding today's lecture," Sarah finally spat out.

"I noticed your sudden interest in psychology this morning. What is your question, Miss… oh, dear, forgive me. They give me more students every semester. What is your name?"

"Sarah," she answered. "Sarah Williams."

"Ah, Miss Williams, yes. How can I help you, Miss Williams?"

"Well, you see, since I was about 15, I haven't been able to remember a single dream. As a child, I experienced the most elaborate and wonderful fantasies. They almost seemed real. But now, I can't remember even a moment of the most ordinary of dreams. Is there any way to help remember the dreams I have?" Sarah was almost begging. She was so close to finally having an answer, she desperately anticipated her professor's response. She studied the man's life worn face as he compiled an answer. With his large nose and deep wrinkles, he was reminiscent of the creatures she encountered in her very last dream.

"Not a single dream, you say? Tell me, Miss Williams, how well do you sleep at night? I can't help but notice you often look quite exhausted... but who doesn't in this class," he chuckled. Sarah smiled, then her lips fell back into a frown.

"Well, I can't say I feel terribly rested when I wake up, even when I sleep in." She paused. "Is there something wrong with me?" She asked worriedly. She knew it wasn't normal to forget all her dreams, but she never thought there was something truly wrong.

"Oh no, dear," her professor reassured her. "Sometimes people won't remember their dreams if they aren't getting enough sleep. What helps me to get a truly restful sleep, is a warm cup of camomile tea before bed. It's worth a try," he encouraged, as he saw relief spread over Sarah's face. "Also, ensure you have the correct sleeping environment, being especially sure to turn off all lights. You'll want to be cool and comfortable, but it's the lights that can really affect your sleep cycles." Sarah's cheeks flushed. She often read before falling asleep, many times losing consciousness before she could switch off the electricity.

"Thank you, Dr. Weaver," Sarah said with a grin. "That was incredibly helpful!" Her professor bid her goodbye and Sarah took off to her next class.

"Oh no…" Sarah pulled on the handle of the door to the auditorium in vain. She stopped her foot and exclaimed, "Oh, it's not fair!" Advanced Shakespeare was her favorite part of the day. She'd have majored in theatre, if not for her stepmother, Irene, threatening to revoke her college fund if she didn't settle on a "real" degree. Yay, accounting! Sarah rolled her eyes.

She didn't dare knock. Mrs. Thatch did not tolerate tardiness, considering it a personal insult. Sarah returned to her dorm, slamming her door behind her. The impact jarred her bookcase, causing a single small, leather bound book to jump ship. Sarah eyed the item suspiciously, then rescued it from the floor and flipped it over to read The Labyrinth written in gold calligraphy contrasted against the crimson cover. Slowly, she began to recognize the little book she hadn't seen in years and an almost unnatural and overwhelming desire to read it washed over her. Memories poured into her consciousness as she flipped quickly through the pages. Once upon a time there was a beautiful young girl...

The rest of the day passed quickly. Sarah finished her book, worked her shift at the local grocery store, and completed a load of laundry by 10pm. You've become so damn domestic, Sarah. How'd you turn into such an ordinary girl? She sighed as she prepared a cup of the tea she bought at the end of her shift. Sleepytime Peach. She hoped she could choke it back, unfortunately there were no other varieties available.

Here goes nothing. She held her nose and tried her best to take the liquid in a single gulp. She coughed and sputtered, but managed to fully consume the dose with minor damage inflicted. She replaced her jeans with pink silk shorts, accented with black lace and traded her blouse for a simple black camisole before dimming the room and sinking into bed.

With nothing else to do, she reminisced about her final dream, noting the similarities to the book she devoured earlier. Sarah figured she must have read the same story the day before her dream, having learned in class it was possible, even common, for dreams to take form around what was experienced or thought of during the day, especially just before bed.

She smiled as she remembered the dear friends she made during her adventure through the Labyrinth. A rude but undeniably loyal dwarf, a towering and orange furred beast, and a valiant Fox terrier soldier.

Her smile faded and heart rate surged as the villain of her dreams entered her mind. Never before had she encountered such an alluring evil.

But was he evil, really? An adversary, sure. But truly against me? Sarah wondered. He was cold and callous at the start of her journey, but by the end he seemed… different. He seemed desperate. Afraid of her, even. Sarah remembered how he had backed away from her, a snotty 15 year old girl. What undeniable power did she hold over him?

Sarah's face wrinkled in concentration. What was it he said to me? She closed her eyes tight, conjuring the image of the Goblin King donning a pure white wardrobe, his blonde, unruly hair blowing about his nearly perfect face. He looked as if he was carved from stone, cold and beautiful. His only imperfection lied in his mismatched, icy eyes and crooked, pointy teeth. Yet, these features only seemed to add to his charm.

Fear me? Check. Love me? What? Do as I say, and I will be your slave. The proposition felt so different at the time, but now thinking back, could it be that he was offering her his world, at his side?

She rendered him powerless over her, denying him fully. How would her life be different if she hadn't been so focused on returning to her ordinary life? To escape this normality… Sarah would give anything. She no longer had even her dreams to get her through.

Wait. Sarah came to a realization. Not only did she reject him, she rejected his offer. Sarah sat straight up. She, essentially, gave up her dreams for her brother. Perhaps, if she were to solve the Labyrinth again…

Sarah chuckled, breaking the silence of her sleepy dorm and sunk back down into the warm embrace of her floral quilt. What does it matter what this dream king really wanted? He didn't exist. He was just part of the fantasy she had lost long ago. There was a perfectly scientific reason Sarah had ceased remembering her dreams, she certainly had them. Her professor said so.

Sarah rolled over and hugged a worn brown bear, the ribbon tied round his neck now more pink than red. Nearly five years ago she gave the toy to her brother, Toby. He quickly tired of it, relinquishing him back to Sarah's possession as soon as he could talk. She held the furry figure to her chest.

"Oh, Launcelot," she began, speaking aloud to the creature. "I wish the Goblin King would take me away…right now." Sarah closed her eyes and entered a welcomed slumber.