AN: This is my first Labyrinth fanfiction, and I'm trying to write a proper, epic sequel to the movie: a whole new adventure with our favourite old characters, with lots of plot and lots of mythology, hopefully a bit different to everything else already out there. Later in the story there will be some sexually explicit/violent scenes, which I will edit down to fit an M-rating - but these chapters will be marked, and if you wish to read the full, uncensored version, I'm also posting the story under the same name at AdultFF. I will update as quickly as possible whenever I can, but even if you may sometimes have to wait a while between chapters, I promise that the story will not be abandoned!

I'd really appreciate any feedback people could give me, even if it's just one line to let me know you're liking the story so far. As I said, this is my first piece of Labyrinth writing, and I'm always going to be worried that I'm not doing the characters justice, so any criticism is welcome! I have read the "Return to Labyrinth" manga sequel, and whilst I will make vague references to certain parts of it and take some of its ideas onboard, I'm pretty much discarding it for this story, as I consider the 'manga-verse' and 'movie-verse' Labyrinths to be separate.

I do not own "Labyrinth" or any of its characters, and I make no money from this piece of fiction. I hope you enjoy the story - and don't forget to let me know what you think!

--

FALLING DOWN

CHAPTER 1: THE PLAY'S THE THING

At last the lights dimmed, and a sudden hush spread quickly through the audience as programmes were folded, conversations finished with rapid whispers, and people shuffled down into their seats. The black velvet curtains could hardly be made out in the dark except for the odd rustling movement, as though they too were preparing themselves for the performance. The air was taut with anticipation, and the people hardly dared breathe for fear of somehow breaking the magic.

Then, in the distance, there was the dim sound of a bird calling. Wind rustling through trees, crickets chirping, yet more birds, but the heavy silence remained in the background, making the noises seem almost fragile. The sound of dawn. A faint light could be seen through a thin gap in the curtains, which steadily illuminating the theatre as they drew back to reveal the stage.

The audience looked upon vast gates carved out of stone, which led to a magnificent palace. In the distance, the city it watched over seemed to spread out for miles, gradually fading into fields and forests. Nobody was there, but there was the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

A young woman strode into view. Eager murmurs from the crowd greeted her, but she seemed oblivious. The golden diadem that rested on her thick black hair marked her out as royalty – but that much could have been easily guessed without a crown. Everything about her seemed to suggest power: her straight stance, the slight tilt to her head, the cool confidence in her eyes. Moments later another girl walked on-stage; younger, also pretty, also clearly royal, but the audience found that they could not tear their eyes away from the first princess.

"Dear, dear Ismene! My poor sister!" The first girl clasped her the second by the arms, and then hugged her fiercely. "So far we have tasted sadness, destruction, disgrace and dishonour. And now our uncle, King Creon, has stunned the whole city with this new law of his. Do you understand what it means? Do know what shame this new law will bring upon our brothers?"

"No, Antigone," Ismene shook her head within her sister's embrace. "What is it? I've heard nothing of our brothers, not since that day when we were robbed of both of them."

"I thought so," Antigone nodded in agreement, taking Ismene by the hand and pulling her to a dark corner of the stage. Her voice dropped to a low whisper, and the audience shuddered in dread of what she was about to say. "That's why I've brought you out here, Ismene; to tell you secretly and alone."

"What is it, Antigone? I can see that there's something deep and dreadful in your words!"

"The burial of our brothers, Ismene! Creon has decreed that one may be buried in all honours, but the other is not to be buried at all! He has buried Eteocles in all proper rites and ceremonies, fully preparing him for the world below, but our other brother, Polyneices, who died a death just as horrible, is left unburied and unmourned! Left alone, to be food for the starving ravens of the sky! And if someone dares to disobey this decree, he or she will face death by public stoning!" She swallowed roughly to stop herself from raising her voice, reigning in her anger and looking around anxiously, though her hands still shook with rage. "We cannot shame our family like this. Ismene, now is the time to show that you are truly worthy of your birth!"

"But, Antigone, if things have gone this far, what can I do? How could I possibly help?"

"We can think and act together."

"What? Antigone, what are you up to? What dangerous thing have you got in mind now?"

Slowly, Antigone relaxed her clenched right fist into an open palm, which she held out to her sister. "Ismene, help this hand to lift our brother's corpse!"

"It's against the will of the city, the will of the King!" Ismene visibly grew paler with terror.

"He's our brother, Ismene! Yours and mine! I will never give people cause to say that I betrayed him!"

"My poor sister! You're going to bury our brother against the King's wishes?"

A quick nod confirmed it. Ismene gasped, but Antigone smiled grimly, her eyes bright with purpose. The audience knew that they had never seen anybody more beautiful. If the young woman had not won them over before, in that one fierce gesture she utterly captivated them beyond release. She was proud, reserved, and yet so passionate, so strong... her plight had their hearts in an instant. They were powerless in her presence. Looking out at some distant ghost of hope, seeing through the palace, through the doubters, through all that stood in her way, she seemed unstoppable.

"The King has no right at all to separate me from my own brother. None whatsoever!"

They were under her spell.

--

A little less than two hours later and the audience were on their feet, joined in a standing ovation. They wiped their eyes, they clapped, they shouted out plaudits to the cast who were gathering on-stage to take their final bow. The soldiers, the slaves, Teiresias, Haemon, Creon, Ismene, everybody was there but one...

"There she is!"

The cheer swelled and doubled in volume as the heroine took her place in the line. The spell was broken now, and they did not see Antigone, but the actress who had played her. She was smiling, biting back laughter at the overwhelming reception, even though her cheeks were still stained with tears from her final, tragic scene.

"...she's really something, isn't she?"

"...completely believable... I was crying!"

"...the best production I've seen in..."

"...that scene where she confronted the King..."

"...amazing, really, and she..."

"...how did she do that..."

"...couldn't take my eyes off of..."

"...she was Antigone..."

It didn't take a genius to work out what the opening night reviews would be like in the papers tomorrow. "ANTIGONE A TRIUMPH", "A ROYAL PERFORMANCE", "STUDENT PRODUCTION WORLD CLASS", "WILLIAMS WOWS AS TRAGIC HEROINE", "BEST ANTIGONE SINCE ANCIENT ATHENS", "LIKE MOTHER, LIKE DAUGHTER: A STAR IS BORN".

As the cast took their third and final bow the curtains fell once more, and the audience began to file out of their seat. Many of them slipped out to wait by the back door, in the hopes of an autograph. The theatre was noisy with movement and excited chatter, too loud to hear the sounds of the one solitary spectator who was still applauding. In the shadows of one of the private boxes, the dim outline of a figure could just be made out. Whoever it was, they were languishing carelessly in a chair, feet propped up on the edge of the balcony, still clapping slowly for the players. One player in particular.

"Bravo, Sarah," the masculine voice was little more than a whisper. "Bravo indeed."

And then, just like that, he was gone.

--

"Come on, Sarah, have another drink!"

"No, Alex, I'm fine, really-"

"You should be celebrating!"

Seeing that there was no getting out of this, Sarah smiled and accepted another glass of champagne from her friend. The after-party was in full swing, even though it was now the early hours of the next morning, and she found herself right in the middle of it. She wasn't exactly used to the attention, but she wasn't going to complain - Alex was right, it was a celebration! The play had been exhausting but exhilarating, and she was in awe of how well it had been received. Her cheeks were still flushed from the curtain call, and she doubted all the alcohol in the world could make her more lightheaded than she had felt in that moment.

But, that said... the more champagne she drunk, the harder she found it to concentrate on the conversation, and everything was fast becoming a blur . Muttering something about going to the bathroom she quietly slipped away from her group of friends, and found a corner in the empty next room. She needed a moment to herself, and it was quieter here, the loud music of the party muffled. Leaning back against the wall she sunk down to the floor with a sigh, a grin still wide on her face, crystal glass in her hand. She couldn't believe this was really happening.

In the final year of high school, her father and step-mother had showered her with prospectuses from dozens of colleges, even a few from the Ivy League. She had good grades and a sharp mind, and had lost her tendency to daydream in lessons. Everybody seemed to assume she would apply for a Liberal Arts degree and study literature, and then train to be a teacher, perhaps even a professor. Sarah agonised over the decision for months. Not so very long ago she would not have cared about college at all, and would have been content to let her family make all the hard decisions for her. But Sarah Williams had grown up, and she decided to follow her dreams. Not the make-believe dreams of a child, but the real dreams of a young woman who knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. And so, one night at dinner, she announced that she was applying to a prestigious drama school in New York.

Weeks of arguments followed.

Did she know what she was giving up? Did she know what she could achieve if she only put her mind to it? What about Yale, what about Penn? What about that nice liberal arts college only an hour's drive away? Acting was a hobby, not a career! How was she going to support herself during her studies? How was she going to support herself after her studies? How would they pay the fees? Would she even be accepted? Did she know how competitive those schools were? Did she know what kind of reputation they had? And, after one particularly vicious row with Irene: "You're going to end up just like your mother!"

Surprisingly, it was Sarah's mother who saved the day. After several years of little-to-no contact, Sarah had written to the woman she had once blindly idolised, explaining her problems. Two months later she got a response, in a tattered letter sent from somewhere in Europe, where Linda Williams (she had kept the surname for professional purposes) was currently on tour. Yes, she knew some people on the admissions board at the drama school, and yes, she'd be more than happy to pull a few strings to organise funding for her daughter!

Triumphant, Sarah had presented the letter to her family, and they had to accept that she was serious about "this acting thing". True to her word, Linda sorted out the money through her contacts in a few charitable organisations, and she put in a good word for her daughter at the school (not that Sarah needed it, as she passed her audition with flying colours). Whilst Irene still pursed her lips in disapproval, her father resolved to be supportive. And Toby, her little brother, was perhaps even more excited than Sarah was; he insisted on helping her practice, reading plays with her, acting out scenes in the garden. He completely adored his step-sister. Sarah had always doted on him - at least, she had done ever since she rescued him from the Lab...

...Sarah shook her head, and took another sip of her drink. Now was not the time to think about that.

After what seemed like decades of waiting, Sarah had finally arrived in the Big Apple, and immediately threw herself into her work. It wasn't only practical courses in acting, singing and dancing - there were plenty of texts to reads and essays to write, and she found most of her spare time was spent in libraries. At the end of her second year, audition sign-up sheets were pasted around the campus for a big student production: "Antigone", an Ancient Greek tragedy written by Sophocles. Sarah thought she'd never heard of anything drearier in her life - but then she read the script. The story told of a desperate young princess, struggling to rescue her brother's body from a cruel King. When she read it, she couldn't help but think of Toby.

She auditioned the next day, and the director was bowled over. One moment a pretty, friendly girl was standing before him, and the next she was a royal lady, cold and beautiful and heartbreaking. Even though she'd just turned twenty, Sarah was already undeniably an extremely talented actress. She had a gift at putting herself into another person's shoes, not merely imitating them, but becoming them, with every word and gesture. He called her the next morning to tell her she had the part.

Countless rehearsals later, and here they were. Opening night a triumph, not a single forgotten line, applause and congratulations all around - and this was only her first leading role. The first of many, she dared to hope. There was nothing like it in the world, the way adrenaline mixed with raw emotion as you walked on-stage, the way you could make a room of hundreds of people laugh or cry with words alone. It was hard work, not the non-stop glamorous party she had pictured as a teenager, but it was worth it.

"Sarah?"

She looked up, startled, but relaxed when she saw that it was only Alex. He was one of her best friends, who she'd met not long after arriving in New York. He'd taken the part of Haemon in the play, Antigone's betrothed, and so they had spent a lot of time together over the last few months. He had unruly, sandy-blonde hair that always seemed to flop over his face, giving him a boyish look, a nice smile, blue eyes - definitely attractive. But as Sarah got to know him she liked him for yet more reasons, like how he was always singing and dreamed of Broadway, or how he could make a sarcastic jibe at anything, or make you feel valued with just a few kind words...

"You okay?"

"I'm fine, just a little tired," she smiled as she moved to stand up again.

"Here, let me give you a hand-" Alex pulled her to her feet like she weighed almost nothing. "I think the party's finishing up now. Want me to walk you back to your apartment?"

Normally, Sarah would protest that she was perfectly capable of walking herself home, thank you very much. But she liked Alex, she really did. He was nice. He was normal. He enjoyed the same things she did. He made her feel safe, and was never anything but a perfect gentleman. So, rather than refuse him, she simply nodded, still smiling.

They spoke very little during the walk, but the silence was never awkward. It was comfortable, and comforting. Alex continued his role as the gentleman, not even moving in for a kiss as they reached her door, just saying a polite goodnight.

Sarah watched him walk away until he had quite disappeared, and then turned into her apartment, shutting the door behind her. Her head was still spinning, but she felt like laughing for joy. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this happy. She threw herself onto her bed, still wearing her dress, kicking her high-heeled shoes onto the floor, and was fast asleep less than a minute later. For the first night in a long time, not one second of her dreams was filled with fairies, dwarves, goblins, or endless mazes. Anyone who saw her curled up would say that she looked peaceful.

Unfortunately for Sarah, though she couldn't know it, this peace was not going to last for long.

--

AN: The text for "Antigone" is adapted from the 2006 translation by George Theodoridis.