Author's Note: Alright, so this is my first Labyrinth Fanfiction, but I'm certain I have a lot of good ideas that might appeal to the fan base. This isn't so much a Jareth and Sarah story as it is a frame story of Jareth's past. In case you aren't aware, the Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud is a song by David Bowie off his second album, Space Oddity. If you do know, then you're one step ahead of the game and may already have an idea of what's going to go down. What I'm trying to do is incorporate Bowie's work into Jareth's life and shed some light on his past. Alright, enough needless author's chatter, I'll leave you to read the story already. (I own nothing, not Labyrinth, not Jareth, not David Bowie's song Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud, nor any characters mentioned in it, I only own my OC's that I threw in for story-telling purposes.)

Chapter One: The Village Dreadful

Solemn faced
The village settles down
Undetected by the stars
And the hangman plays the mandolin before he goes to sleep
And the last thing on his mind
Is the Wild Eyed Boy imprisoned
'Neath the covered wooden shaft
Folds the rope
Into its bag
Blows his pipe of smolders
Blankets smoke into the room
And the day will end for some
As the night begins for one

Staring through the message in his eyes
Lies a solitary son
From the mountain called Freecloud
Where the eagle dare not fly
And the patience in his sigh
Gives no indication
For the townsmen to decide
So the village Dreadful yawns
Pronouncing gross diversion
As the label for the dog
Oh "It's the madness in his eyes"
As he breaks the night to cry:

"It's really Me
Really You
And really Me
It's so hard for us to really be
Really You
And really Me
You'll lose me though I'm always
really free"

And the mountain moved its eyes
To the world of realize
Where the snow had saved a place
For the Wild Eyed Boy
from Freecloud

And the village Dreadful cried
As the rope began to rise
For the smile stayed on the face
Of the Wild Eyed Boy
from Freecloud
And the women once proud
Clutched the heart of the crowd
As the boulders smashed down from the mountain's hand

And the Magic in the stare
Of the Wild Eyed Boy said
"Stop, Freecloud
They won't think to cut me down"
But the cottages fell
Like a playing card hell
And the tears on the face
Of the Wise Boy
Came tumbling down
To the rumbling ground
And the missionary mystic of peace/love
Stumbled to cry among the clouds
Kicking back the pebbles
From the Freecloud mountain
Track.

"Mummy! Mummy!" little Emma's cry broke the quiet of the night. She sat up, tears streaming down her cheeks as she struggled to wrench herself from her nightmare. She called for the closest thing to comfort she had besides her doll. Soon, her door opened and her mother's silhouette appeared to her like an angel, glowing with otherworldly warmth.
"What is it, sweetie?" her mother asked. Her soft footsteps made faint padding noises on the wooden floor and she held out the candle in front of her. She sat on the edge of her daughter's bed and left the candle on the table beside it. She examined her daughter's face in the dim light. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"Mhm," Emma nodded, sniffling. Her mother let out a murmur of sympathy and held out her arms. Emma struggled to get out from under the sheets and then flung herself into her mother's protective embrace. Tiny arms around her mother's neck, Emma clung to her like a life line. Rocking her back and forth, her mother whispered comforting words into her ears, kissing her head gently. Eventually, Emma quieted and grew still. Satisfied her job was done, Catherine tucked her back in bed, making sure her doll was nestled comfortably in her arms. She kissed her daughter's cheek softly and retrieved the candle, heading for the door.

"Wait," she heard Emma sitting up. "Will you tell me a bedtime story?"
"…Honey—" Catherine was so tired and her bed was just another room away. She really didn't feel like it.
"It'll help the nightmares go away," Emma insisted. There was a hopeful pause.
"Oh, alright," Her mother consented and headed back to her daughter. "What story do you want to hear?" she inquired as she climbed into bed with her.
"The one about the Wild Eyed Boy," Emma said excitedly, snuggling close to her mother. "From Freecloud."
"Ah, so you've heard of him already?" her mother mused. "Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time."
"We live right by Freecloud Mountain, Mummy!" Emma told her.
"Yes, we do, dear."
"So, since we live by it, I should know about it!" Emma concluded.

"You are one logical little five-year-old, aren't you?" Catherine murmured.
"I am, I am! Mrs. Cunningham told me the other day, she said I looked six!" Emma announced.
"Who's that, you're teacher?"
"Yes, Mummy, I've told you a million times!" Emma said in the most exasperated voice she could manage.
"Sorry, honey," her mother smiled slightly. "You know Mummy has a hard time remembering things."
"Yes, I know," Emma replied, "But will you tell me the story?"
"Oh, fine," her mother relented. "Let's see… how long ago was the Wild Eyed Boy's visit? I was… eleven, so that would be… twenty years I believe."
"But, Mummy!" Emma whispered in awe. "That's so long ago."
"Not when you're my age," her mother answered. "Anyway, like I said, I was eleven when he came—"

"You met him!?" Emma interrupted.

"Look at you, so full of questions," her mother teased. Emma giggled. "Listen or you won't hear the story. Do you promise to listen?"
"I promise."
"Good. Now, it happened in this very village. It was not much bigger than it is now, but the reason for that comes later…"

The village Dreadful, presently, was not too different than it was the night before the Wild Eyed Boy came. Dreadful was a mere speck of a town that went virtually unnoticed by all of its neighboring communities. It was hidden by a forest of trees and a field of high swaying grasses. If it weren't for the local merchants that came and went to the other towns, it surely would've been forgotten, a world all its own. It wasn't even big enough to be a spot on a map. It was a solemn village, with solemn people who lived solemn lives. There were no more than fifty houses inside the meager foot high stone walls that surrounded it. Every morning, the people got up and went about their business and every evening it settled back down, undetected by the stars. To the people of Dreadful, life only consisted of what went on inside the town's walls. They might as well have been the only town on Earth and they were satisfied to stay that way. To them, they had always been there and would always remain there. Nothing new or unexpected ever happened there.

And though Dreadful may have been hardly worth looking at, the mountain beside it brought travelers from far and wide. Freecloud Mountain was surely something to behold. It was a solid black mass jutting out from the earth that towered high above the clouds. Nothing grew on it, not even a tree or blade of grass. It's shape was unusual and its surface oddly smooth. It was so great and ominous, not even the eagle dared fly near its summit or nest on one of its rocky crags. Few had attempted (and failed) to climb it and even fewer had even considered the idea. Catherine could recall tales the elders told about the mountain when she was younger. She and the other children used to gather around to listen to their stories about Freecloud no end of times. The mountain, the elders claimed, was not actually a mountain at all. They were living creatures. Stone giants that had long gone into hibernation. There were times when these great stone giants walked the earth, creating lakes and valleys and canyons, even other mountains with their feet. They shaped the world so it would be fit for human living. But there were only a slim few that ever existed. Their work was hard and they knew full well they could not continue after their many years of service. So they stopped their travels after a while and simply went to sleep.

The children would then ask why the mountain stayed still. Surely Freecloud had rested long enough. They also asked why Freecloud didn't get lonely and go off to visit his friends, the other stone giants. The elders replied that the ways of Freecloud are unknown to humans, but naughty children shouldn't go near, lest Freecloud wake up. The answer, the children agreed, was less than satisfactory. After hearing these stories time and time again, the children soon grew bored of hearing about Freecloud and found other things to occupy their time. But every now and again Catherine would find herself staring up at the mountain, thinking about the stories she had been told. It wasn't like she believed the fairytales the elders told. At the ripe old age of eleven she know what was true and what was untrue. And the stories about Freecloud were folly. Still… it was fun to imagine. While the bedtime stories may not have been real, Catherine knew there was something special about Freecloud. And while some people lived in fear of it, she came to see it as a friend.

Sometimes when she was in the schoolhouse, she would look out the window and at the Mountain and just dream about it. Unfortunately, as a result, she would be scolded for not paying attention and was eventually moved to a seat where she could not look out the window. It wasn't fair. She wasn't hurting anyone. But being the mature eleven-year-old she was, she sat quietly and didn't complain. In Church services, no one could stop her from looking out the windows. As long as she sang the hymns and could give a brief summary of what the reverend spoke about, her parents were content to let her stare out the window as long as she liked. Once or twice she made an attempt to leave the village and go see Freecloud for herself, but she was always stopped and brought back home. Despite this deterrent, her desire to go to Freecloud never left her and she really began to believe the place where she resided was truly dreadful.