Righty-ho, here we go! As I'm sure you are all aware, nothing belongs to me. Everything in this story belongs either to Jim Henson and his company, Eva Cassidy, or Stephen Sondheim. Got it? Good.

Having seen the standard of Labyrinth stories on this site, I can't think why I'm lowering the tone by posting this, but I would very much appreciate it if you would review and explain where I've gone wrong. Pretty please?

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin . . .

*~*~*

Heartsong

*~*~*

'Cormac! Bedtime!'

Sarah grinned as the three year old boy toddled in and allowed himself to be changed from his dungarees into his pyjamas. Cormac looked nothing like his mother, apart from his green eyes, having inherited all his features from his father. Pale blonde unruly hair, slim figure, sharp facial features, pale skin. Sometimes he almost looked like a certain Goblin King . . .

Sarah shook herself, grimacing. She hadn't thought about him for years. Not since he had loved her and left her. Sarah found herself lost in the memory of that night. He had been so gentle, so loving, and yet she hadn't seen him since. She felt slightly resentful that he hadn't even called in to see his own son in the last three years. The thought crossed her mind that perhaps he didn't know, but he was a Fae, how could he not know?

A gurgle made her look up, and she laughed. The little boy had managed to get his head through an armhole and was stuck. However, he had got his nightclothes on, so she gave him a hug, rearranging his top, and carried him into his bedroom. As she tucked him in, Cormac reached up and planted a big sloppy kiss on her cheek, grinning mischievously.

'Luv you, mummy,' he said toying with her chocolate brown hair. Tears sprang up in Sarah's eyes. She still couldn't believe that this little angel was hers.

'I love you, too, baby.'

Smiling, the boy turned over, wriggling around to get comfortable. Sarah gently stroked his hair, and kissed his forehead, before turning off the light and closing the door. She wandered back downstairs, drawing a drink of water from the tap and picking up a book. As she settled onto the settee to read, she didn't notice the hawk watching her through the garden doors.

***

Cormac turned over in his sleep, and snuggled closer into his covers. A shadow fell over his bed, as the hawk that had been watching his mother flew in through the partially open window. It's outline shimmered and elongated, becoming that of a tall woman. She smiled down at the child, but there was no kindness in the smile. Her grey eyes were cold, and her expression cruel. She reached out and plucked a crystal from the air. It glowed black, as she raised it over the sleeping boy.

Just on the edge of hearing, whispers broke the silence.

'What's she doing here?'

'I don't know.'

'That's not important. Look what she's doing!'

There was a gasp of horror.

'She wouldn't!'

As the woman began to triumphantly lower her hand over Cormac's face, a small shape plummeted out of the darkness and grabbed her wrist, biting her hand with razor-sharp teeth. She shrieked with rage and dropped the crystal onto the floor, where other dark shapes were attacking her.

Downstairs, Sarah dropped the book with a start. Someone had shrieked from upstairs, and it hadn't sounded like Cormac. With her heart in her mouth, she leapt up from the settee, and raced upstairs, taking them two at a time. As she reached the bedroom door, she could hear sounds of struggling coming from inside. Sarah threw open the door and flipped the light switch, gasping at the sight before her.

There were goblins everywhere. And in the midst of them, roaring with rage, was a woman, who glared at Sarah with such hatred that she was momentarily afraid. With relief she realised that Cormac was still in bed, no longer asleep, but sensible enough not to draw attention to himself.

'What is going on here?' she heard herself demand.

The goblins stopped attacking the strange woman and looked up, suddenly noticing her presence. She recognised many of them from her . . .trip . . . all those years ago. Taking advantage of the sudden reprieve, the woman conjured another crystal and threw it at Cormac. One of the smaller goblins leapt into its path, and as it hit him, darkness enveloped the room. When the light returned, everything was as it had been, apart from a single little stone statue lying forlornly on Cormac's bed.

Horrified, Sarah launched herself at the woman, furious that anyone would try to hurt her son. It was like hitting a brick wall. She was lifted up and thrown against the wall. Blinking away tears of pain, Sarah saw her opponent stalk across the room towards her, ignoring the futile attempts of the goblins to stop her. Sarah was lifted from her crumpled position and held at eye height to the woman, who was easily over a foot taller than she was. Her feet dangled. Over the woman's shoulder, she saw the goblins huddle protectively around her son. Then her attention was distracted by the madwoman holding her.

'How dare you attack me?' the woman hissed, her anger barely in check. She smacked Sarah, hard, around the face. Sarah's eyes narrowed and she levelled a kick in the woman's general direction, rewarded with a thud and a fleeting look of pain in those cold eyes. She was dropped suddenly, and she heard the woman walk away, towards the window. Looking down at Sarah's prone position, the woman knelt and forced her to look up. She plucked another crystal from the air and held it in front of Sarah's face.

The goblins gasped as one, and began muttering amongst themselves. Sarah felt light-headed. All she could see was the black expanse of infinity that the crystal offered her. It seemed so safe, so inviting. Slowly she felt herself falling, gladly, into the blackness. Sarah shook her head. Something wasn't right. She tried to pry her gaze from the crystal, but a hand held her in place. She blinked slowly, hearing, as if from far away, a chorus of voices shout,

'I wish the Goblin King would come and take them away right now!'

Suddenly there was a rush of icy wind and the darkness cleared abruptly. A male voice exclaimed,

'What in the name of . . .?'

The woman hissed angrily,

'YOU!'

The familiar British accent answered,

'Yes, Emelan, me. And what, may I ask, are you doing here?'

As Emelan spluttered in outrage, unable to think of an answer that would satisfy him, Sarah became aware of many little shapes clustered around her, holding her close, out of reach of the angry woman. She couldn't seem to clear her head. She was vaguely aware that the woman had turned into a hawk and flown off, obviously sent away by the guy in front of her.

Sarah shook her head again, her head felt stuffed with cotton wool. Black cotton wool. She realised she was in someone's arms, that gloved hands were brushing the hair off her face. She forced her eyes open and found herself gazing into a mis-matched pair, just inches from her own. Through the fog that blocked her head, she heard him say,

'Sarah, do you know me?'

Sarah frowned and pulled back a little, taking in his whole face. She nodded, yes, she did know that face.

'Sarah, who am I?'

Now that was a difficult question. Her head wasn't clear, there were spots in front of her eyes. She felt like she was going to pass out. What was his name? As the darkness consumed her, she heard herself whisper,

'Jareth . . .'