Labyrinth FanFic
R. C. Carpenter
2000
Well, my first attempt at "Labyrinth." Be responsible- review when you read.
Flying away from the window of the young girl he had tormented for less than thirteen hours, Jareth knew that his time with her was forever over. She had denied him he love without considering his own emotions. She was not worthy of his affection; he tried to convince himself of those thoughts. If she would battle against his forces, through his labyrinth, past the gates of the Goblin City, and then crush his world before his very eyes, this girl never should have caught his fancy.
But the fact still remained for Jareth: he had fallen in love with her. He had turned the world upside down for her, reordered time, and done all that she had asked. All the girl had wanted in her life was to live in a life of fantasy and he had given her that, and more. He had offered her happiness more than just once: when he took her brother, when she entered the labyrinth, when she fell into the oubliette, when she ate the enchanted peach. Again and again. Too numerous to count were the different routes, and each time she chose to ignore the pleading in his eyes that said *Love me, for I worship you.*
He hadn't seen Sarah's hidden fears. She had to get her brother back from him because she never really hated him or her stepmother. She only missed her real mother and wanted to take her frustrations towards her father out on the woman that he turned to when his life was sent into a tailspin. Jareth had ignored the domestic life of his fixation, choosing to focus his interloping on her daytrips to well-groomed fields that she transformed into mythical lands to do battle with evil.
And he, Jareth the Goblin King, was that evil and he should have seen her defiance coming. Well, he wouldn't make the same mistake. There must have been hundreds of other girls that would suit him as his bride, slave, and master. A girl that was innocent and without fear, without anger towards the evil because she knew not of it. A girl that could be sweet and yet cruel. And maybe a girl that asked the right questions once in a while. If only Sarah had asked the inhabitants of his labyrinth how to get to the castle, rather than how to get to the center of the labyrinth, she would have made progress more easily.
But above all, Jareth would find the girl with the untainted imagination to revive his world, along with his broken heart.
The Goblin King returned at his will to the center of the labyrinth, cursing Sarah's name and his own foolishness. She had left the castle in ruins after she broke the spell. Everywhere in the air hung the disjointed pieces of his Great Hall.
He tossed back the shimmering purple cape over his shoulder and stepped forward off of one hunk of staircase onto another. "Aah!" he growled, "What kind of torment is this supposed to be?" He cast his wicked glare towards a sulking goblin, reaching out to it, and ripping it off the ground by its steely helmet. "Hadn't she any manners enough to clean after herself?"
The goblin squirmed, tugging at the helmet strap that began to choke him.
Jareth watched the goblin, his pale face blank from expression. "Well?" he asked sternly.
The goblin freed itself from the helmet and dropped to the ground, his armor clattering and his lips trembling. "Aye, sir, the girl is quite... untidy."
"I didn't ask that," Jareth roared and took a large, proud step over to the floating stones that carried his throne. He draped across the edge of it, one gloved hand taking hold of his whip and the other was brought broodingly up to his chin. "But how to fix it?"
The goblin wandered off, knowing its place was not with his King.
Jareth sat there, a silent, living statue, lost in deep deliberation and not-so hidden contempt.
*What to do with this? Eh, Jareth, old boy?* The beautiful goblin pondered endlessly, his blonde, blue-streaked hair wafting around him as the gentle breeze of emptiness danced around him.
"You can't save this place, Jareth," came a tender, placid voice from behind the throne. Jareth raised his eyes, the thick, pointed eyebrows rising high.
Another piece of staircase, this one rotated at an angle so that the steps were facing downwards, began to float out from behind the obstruction of the throne. Sitting atop the jagged edge with her knees pulled up to her chest was a young woman with long blonde hair, pointed ears, and a dress made from the droopy leaves of willow trees. Her skin shimmered and her eyes twinkled, but her lips didn't curl into a smile.
"You're not welcome here, Cerlet," Jareth stated, sitting upright with his elbows on the arms of the throne, his short whip in hand. "I need time to brood."
Cerlet rose and took one step off the drifting rock. She stood there, hovering in mid air, her clear wings beating feverishly. "The wishes of a goblin king weigh little with a daeirling. But," she smiled thinly, running her long, thin fingers through her hair, "If you wish for our world to crumble... I will go."
The daeirling turned on her heel and in an instant Jareth was shouting, "I never said that!"
Cerlet turned her cherubic face back to Jareth. "Then you will enter into a drisk?"
Jareth laughed. He knew that if he accepted a daeirling drisk he'd be serving their Queen for eternity, since that was what a drisk stated. When someone went under a drisk they became property of the other species and all of their power was to be at the disposal of the drisk holder. Even if Cerlet could tell Jareth how to bring Sarah back to him and have her love him, he wasn't a fool enough to accept such a death sentence.
"How about I dip you in the Bog of Eternal stench, Cerlet?"
"Fine," she turned on her heel again.
Jareth stood swiftly, his hand outstretched. "No, wait!"
But Cerlet was gone.
"Blasted!" Jareth slammed a fist down as he fell back into his chair. "Flighty daeirling." He looked to a sluggish, fuzzy creature that crawled along the edge of his piece of rock. "What could a thing like that possibly know at any rate?" he asked it.
The tiny creature looked up at the King, shook its head and said, "Don't know: I'm just a worm."
Okay! Now it's your turn to write: to me! What do you think? This is all I've written so far but I wonder if I should even bother.
Until!
R. C. Carpenter
2000
Well, my first attempt at "Labyrinth." Be responsible- review when you read.
Flying away from the window of the young girl he had tormented for less than thirteen hours, Jareth knew that his time with her was forever over. She had denied him he love without considering his own emotions. She was not worthy of his affection; he tried to convince himself of those thoughts. If she would battle against his forces, through his labyrinth, past the gates of the Goblin City, and then crush his world before his very eyes, this girl never should have caught his fancy.
But the fact still remained for Jareth: he had fallen in love with her. He had turned the world upside down for her, reordered time, and done all that she had asked. All the girl had wanted in her life was to live in a life of fantasy and he had given her that, and more. He had offered her happiness more than just once: when he took her brother, when she entered the labyrinth, when she fell into the oubliette, when she ate the enchanted peach. Again and again. Too numerous to count were the different routes, and each time she chose to ignore the pleading in his eyes that said *Love me, for I worship you.*
He hadn't seen Sarah's hidden fears. She had to get her brother back from him because she never really hated him or her stepmother. She only missed her real mother and wanted to take her frustrations towards her father out on the woman that he turned to when his life was sent into a tailspin. Jareth had ignored the domestic life of his fixation, choosing to focus his interloping on her daytrips to well-groomed fields that she transformed into mythical lands to do battle with evil.
And he, Jareth the Goblin King, was that evil and he should have seen her defiance coming. Well, he wouldn't make the same mistake. There must have been hundreds of other girls that would suit him as his bride, slave, and master. A girl that was innocent and without fear, without anger towards the evil because she knew not of it. A girl that could be sweet and yet cruel. And maybe a girl that asked the right questions once in a while. If only Sarah had asked the inhabitants of his labyrinth how to get to the castle, rather than how to get to the center of the labyrinth, she would have made progress more easily.
But above all, Jareth would find the girl with the untainted imagination to revive his world, along with his broken heart.
The Goblin King returned at his will to the center of the labyrinth, cursing Sarah's name and his own foolishness. She had left the castle in ruins after she broke the spell. Everywhere in the air hung the disjointed pieces of his Great Hall.
He tossed back the shimmering purple cape over his shoulder and stepped forward off of one hunk of staircase onto another. "Aah!" he growled, "What kind of torment is this supposed to be?" He cast his wicked glare towards a sulking goblin, reaching out to it, and ripping it off the ground by its steely helmet. "Hadn't she any manners enough to clean after herself?"
The goblin squirmed, tugging at the helmet strap that began to choke him.
Jareth watched the goblin, his pale face blank from expression. "Well?" he asked sternly.
The goblin freed itself from the helmet and dropped to the ground, his armor clattering and his lips trembling. "Aye, sir, the girl is quite... untidy."
"I didn't ask that," Jareth roared and took a large, proud step over to the floating stones that carried his throne. He draped across the edge of it, one gloved hand taking hold of his whip and the other was brought broodingly up to his chin. "But how to fix it?"
The goblin wandered off, knowing its place was not with his King.
Jareth sat there, a silent, living statue, lost in deep deliberation and not-so hidden contempt.
*What to do with this? Eh, Jareth, old boy?* The beautiful goblin pondered endlessly, his blonde, blue-streaked hair wafting around him as the gentle breeze of emptiness danced around him.
"You can't save this place, Jareth," came a tender, placid voice from behind the throne. Jareth raised his eyes, the thick, pointed eyebrows rising high.
Another piece of staircase, this one rotated at an angle so that the steps were facing downwards, began to float out from behind the obstruction of the throne. Sitting atop the jagged edge with her knees pulled up to her chest was a young woman with long blonde hair, pointed ears, and a dress made from the droopy leaves of willow trees. Her skin shimmered and her eyes twinkled, but her lips didn't curl into a smile.
"You're not welcome here, Cerlet," Jareth stated, sitting upright with his elbows on the arms of the throne, his short whip in hand. "I need time to brood."
Cerlet rose and took one step off the drifting rock. She stood there, hovering in mid air, her clear wings beating feverishly. "The wishes of a goblin king weigh little with a daeirling. But," she smiled thinly, running her long, thin fingers through her hair, "If you wish for our world to crumble... I will go."
The daeirling turned on her heel and in an instant Jareth was shouting, "I never said that!"
Cerlet turned her cherubic face back to Jareth. "Then you will enter into a drisk?"
Jareth laughed. He knew that if he accepted a daeirling drisk he'd be serving their Queen for eternity, since that was what a drisk stated. When someone went under a drisk they became property of the other species and all of their power was to be at the disposal of the drisk holder. Even if Cerlet could tell Jareth how to bring Sarah back to him and have her love him, he wasn't a fool enough to accept such a death sentence.
"How about I dip you in the Bog of Eternal stench, Cerlet?"
"Fine," she turned on her heel again.
Jareth stood swiftly, his hand outstretched. "No, wait!"
But Cerlet was gone.
"Blasted!" Jareth slammed a fist down as he fell back into his chair. "Flighty daeirling." He looked to a sluggish, fuzzy creature that crawled along the edge of his piece of rock. "What could a thing like that possibly know at any rate?" he asked it.
The tiny creature looked up at the King, shook its head and said, "Don't know: I'm just a worm."
Okay! Now it's your turn to write: to me! What do you think? This is all I've written so far but I wonder if I should even bother.
Until!