DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I make no profit. Don't bother sueing.

NOTES OF AN AUTHORESS: Just a thought I had; what was going through Sarah's head in the last sequence of the movie?


The shattered remanents of the Escher room drifting lazily around the girls head providing a fitting panorama for the last show-down, the last chance. Her last chance, her last chance to redeem herself and her last chance to win back what she had so foolishly sent away. She stood there, the unearthly wind lazily throwing her hair back and her heart thundering as she faced the Goblin King; the monster of her faerie stories. But was he?

Looking at him now with her uncertain, childish so very scared green eyes she could help but wonder if she had been wrong all along, if he had told the truth. What if he had told the truth? He was speaking now though she barely heard the words. "I can be cruel..." An exclamation of disbelief escaped the girl-childs lips as she tossed her head in contempt, a mock show of bravado to hide her trembling heart.

Say the right words, the goblins said...

The right words, the right words, the power of those words. The magic hidden in a simple statement uttered by a naive teenager, the magic hidden in her soul. The magic of the Labyrinth, so obvious and so potent. The magic of him...

"I have fought my way to the castle, beyond the goblin city..." Her voice held a tremor, a quaver that marked her indescion even now. She walked towards him, her steps strong but still she was scared. Part of her wanted to reach for him, to ask his forgiveness and his protection. What if she did? Would he turn his back and laugh at her naivity, a little girl placing so much faith in her dreams? Would he brush her aside, all ice and stardust a mere illusion of what she wanted most? Would he take her brother, send her home and leave her with her own tormented guilt?

Still speaking, still speaking, still walking...

Or would he gather her into his immortal arms and hold her close, whisper that he loved her? Would he whisk her away to a world of enchantment where anything could happen, where her dreams really did come true? Would she be a princess in a gown of moonshine and diamond-dust with a mask of purest silver? Would she dance with him in the masquerade ball but this time as a Queen and not a girl trapped in a crystal, an illusion? Would he? Wouldn't he?

Forget about the baby.

Could she? Could she turn her back on her little brother and her family? Suddenly she saw little Toby, dearest Toby, darling Toby with his mop of blonde curls and his lovely blue eyes. She saw cherubic Toby, a child, a baby, an innocent in all this. He was too young to understand anything. Too young to understand why his big sister resented him so. Too young, much too young. The image of Toby faded like a drawing on the beach being washed away by the relentless waves to be replaced by the face of her father. Her father with his face prematurely wrinkled and lined with stress; the stress of his wife leaving him to follow her dreams, to chase some unknown ideal. He was a rock in all this, a rock against the tempest that Sarah had become; a maelstrom of emotions that tore at his very being. What would he think if his daughter left him as well, gone to chase her dreams? Then her father faded as well into shadows and moonlight to be replaced with the wicked stepmother in all this. Karen, the woman who had dared come into her home and act like she had the right to tell Sarah what to do. Karen the woman who never thought of anyone but herself, Karen who, who...who had mended her father's shattered heart and was trying so hard. Karen who tried so hard to win Sarah's approval.

She faltered, stumbling over the last line like she always always did. "Damn! I always forget that line," she muttered to herself, the small flare of anger like a bright candle flame in the darkness of her desperate and confused mind. She clung to it like a drowning man, trying to make the fire consume her soul. She glared at the Goblin King and tried to hate him, tried to hate him. Tried and failed.

"Sarah look at what I am offering you," he said, his voice placating and soft, imploring and oh-so-gentle. But she kept walking and he kept backing away, still holding out that crystal. That damn crystal! Finally she ground to a halt, her mind tangled around itself; the two parts of her being twisted into something impossible. The would-be-woman and the should-be-child were at war, complimenting and contradicting each other as they roared and stormed in Sarahs poor, aching brain. The Goblin King's velvet voice was like a balm to a raw and bleeding soul as he gave her a gentle half-smile so different to the smirk to which she was accustomed.

"Just love me, fear me, do as I say and I will be your slave," he implored, begging with her. Lifting her green eyes to meet his mis-matched gaze Sarah felt her heart skip a beat. Was that a flicker of warmth in his eyes? Was that a touch of springtime to his wintery persona? Was that love in his eyes or glee as he toyed with her more? Her mind swam and Sarah felt tears prick the inside of her eyes, demanding that she let them fall. But she held them back, defiant and strong. A warrior.

And then it was there, an assurance that she had lacked before. The core of steel to her dreamers spirit asserted itself and suddenly her blood turned to red-hot mercury. Her foggy mind cleared and the answer was there. And the answer was this:

It didn't matter. If he loved her or if it was just another game, if he genuinly cared or if he was just trying to stop her in her quest. She lifted her chin and stared at him, realization dawning on her face like the sunrise after a long and dismal night. It didn't matter because he was keeping her family from her, the one thing in her life that was constant and was love. Not romantic no and not all clean and sparkly like faerie tale romances. Not love he could be offering her; enchantment and clouds but down-to-earth, real as fire and strong as stone. No-one could keep that from her. And then the words rushed into her mind, eager and willing to be spoken. She could speak them now for she knew what they meant.

"You have no power over me."