Disclaimer:
I do not own Sarah, Toby, Jareth, Stepmother "Irene", Father or any of the Labyrinth creatures within the story of the Labyrinth.
Prologue
The Maker of Dreams.
Jareth watched as the walls of the castle above him tumbled down. Soon the Goblin Kingdom would be a shadow of a memory. The darkness came to engulf the world starting at the very spot he stood. It ripped through the walls of the castle down the cobble stoned alleys, up the moss covered stonewalls of the Labyrinth. Soon every living creature Sarah had known in the Labyrinth would be lost in the blackness. Moments ago the fifteen-year-old Sarah slipped from the dream world he had created for her and back into the comfort she knew. He knew her friends would visit her one last time. He knew they would promise to be there for her. He knew that promise would be in vain. The man shook his head sadly and let out a heavy sigh.
It was destined to end this way. It always does the fantasy turns to dreams—dreams end and the mortals will always go back to their world. They will forget what happened here. Forget that their dreams had been real.
This was the way things were. He was a maker of worlds, wonderful magical worlds full of adventure and excitement. He specialized in children's fantasies. Sometimes it was dark business, but mostly it was fun. He loved it. The children had the ability to imagine in to existence just about anything. But in the end the children left and with that the worlds turned to blackness. This was expected.
Sarah was a special case. He had watched Sarah for many years. When she was a small child her dreams were vivid and he loved creating small adventures for her. Her mother had read her bedtime stories every night. And Sarah loved to imagine she was the heroine in each one. Except Sarah would be a pirate queen in a story about trolls and billy goats, or little red riding hood on the North Pole Express. He loved the worlds she urged him to create. That is until her mother died. Sarah stopped imagining and became withdrawn and timid. Jareth waited patiently, hoping she would find her lightheartedness again. One day she found an old copy of her mother's favorite book. "The Labyrinth." There was an inscription, "My dearest Olina, may you never stop dreaming—but always come back home." She delved into the pages and rediscovered the magic she had lost. The book became her favorite she had reread the pages so many times she knew most of it by heart. Jareth knew she was a little older than his usual dreamer, fifteen he thought maybe too close to womanhood. But in the end he felt he could not deny her one last adventure. He hadn't expected it would be any different from his usual game. He hadn't expected he would enjoy her company so much. He thought he would let her dream end naturally.
Then why had I asked her to stay? And why do I feel so empty now? I have never been a lonely man.
He hadn't expected for himself to feel so jarred. Jareth, cocked his head and tightened his jaw emptying a loaded sigh into the blackness and continued his mental tirade.
I played her game, I gave her the adventure she wanted, the challenge, the villain, the friendship, the wonder… I enticed her, seduced her with the romanceshewanted. Explain to me how it is itIam the one…the one…what is this feeling?
Hurt? Rejected?
It's impossible. Love was never in the game. She's too naïve, too innocent…a child still.And how could I, Jareth, Maker of Dreams fall for a mortal being? Impossible.He shook his head solemnly.It was affection. Nothing more. Nothing less. I felt affection for her. Brotherly… affection.
Jareth shifted uncomfortably, clutching his chest.
Now, how can I get her back?
A/N: Hello folks, this is my first attempt at writing. I hope you enjoy it. I may be a little slow getting out the chapters but I promise I will see it through. Be kind, review :)