Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, or Jareth. Jim Henson & Co. do.
Rating: PG-13 (For use of improper language)
Author's note: I choose a different scheme of things. This will be more of a love story and the characters Jareth, and mine (not Sarah) will be a closer match in age than they look like in the movie. By the by, the only thing I have against Sarah is the name. It's my sister.
The pale face of an owl pierced the cool, darkness of the night. A slow breeze brought it to perch in an old tree that sat awkwardly outside a window. This window was well known to the owl, for this was no owl. On the contrary, this was a spy. A spy for the famous, yet infamous to some, Jareth: The Goblin King. The stories go and the songs are sung about his cold, independent nature. Well, everyone has his secrets.
The owl was of Jareth's creation, having at one point been his pet. He needed a spy for that different world. It would've been strange to see little crystal orbs flying around all over the place. If you look closely at the owl's eyes, though, the orbs lie within.
Jareth had a crystal of his own as he sat in his chambers. He looked into the glass and saw the same window that his owl saw. He saw the same breeze blow the curtains. Also, he saw the same girl close the shutters. "Jaclyn," he muttered under his breath.
It was her name, and a beautiful one at that. Such a playful way it moved off his tongue. A song-like quality when said by anyone. Even his goblin subjects. "Jaclyn," he repeated, "The love that I hold for you cannot be expressed in words. Especially the ones I mutter to myself in the secretive tranquility of my bedchamber.
She seemed to be yelling out the window. By watching her mouth, Jareth knew that it was a line that was all too familiar to him. Then suddenly she turned to her door that was strait across from the window. She ripped the small costume crown from her head in a rage and ran to the adjacent room.
"Uh-oh," Jareth observed, "baby's crying. Perhaps I'll see you soon." He prepared to call back his spy when a red book on her desk caught his eye. "Perhaps very soon," he added gleefully.
He walked to the sentry at his door and addressed him coolly. "You," he said, having forgotten the goblin's name, "Keep watch on my lady Jaclyn. She may very well say the words. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," said the goblin. He stood there for a moment unsure of what to do.
"Go!" Jareth yelled, "Now!" As the little goblin scurried away, he smiled amused. "Such funny little creatures."
He had followed this girl Jaclyn around for quite some time mainly because he had read the silly book that an author had written about him. Strangely, this girl reminded him of the girl in that story. He could not remember the name she was given in the book, but then again, he couldn't remember hardly anyone's name. Except for Jaclyn, that is. That was a strong gift he gave to her.
He had not yet heard her voice, for he did not share ears with his spy as easily as he did eyes. Even at this disadvantage, he knew it was her when the words rang through his kindom. A sweet and innocent tone, though it was corrupted with something a child would be known as "spoiled" for. Even, so, he made his small journey to meet her.