Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth. That privilege belongs to Jim Henson and company. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own perverted pleasures.

A/N: This is my take on the story. I hope it doesn't disappoint too badly. I haven't written anything in years now, so it may take awhile before I hit my stride.

Please accept this offering and tell me what you think. I am trying to be somewhat original, but let's face it...it's all been done before. I know - I've looked.

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Chapter One

High above the Labyrinth, in a tower made of ancient stone, a beautiful Fae king sat alone in his moonlit chamber. In one gloved hand he held a glowing orb, an enchanted sphere which showed him his dreams. In the misty depths of the crystal he could see the face of his beloved, peacefully composed in sleep. With intense longing he gazed upon her, as he did every night, while hunger coursed through his ancient veins.

Never in all his long years had he wanted anything as much as he wanted this one young girl. She was the other half of his soul, his destiny. He knew as soon as he came upon her three summers before in a quaint little Aboveground park that she was the one he had searched for throughout time. She beckoned him like the flame beckons the determined moth, tempting him with her delicious heat, hypnotizing him with her light. She was his every desire. With her long, sable locks, flaming green eyes and rose-petal skin, she never failed to take his breath away. His chest tightened anew each and every time he beheld her, the intensity of his love causing his heart to swell.

He had come so close to winning her. It maddened him to think of how near he came to making her his. He'd plotted so meticulously, studying her as she played, committing every detail to his unfailing memory. He came to know her better than she knew herself. He was aware of how alone she felt, abandoned by her mother, a selfish woman who placed her own aspirations above the needs of her young daughter. He knew how deeply it hurt her tender feelings that her father had remarried. She had become very attached to her one remaining parent, taking security in his increased devotion. It therefore seemed like a gross betrayal of their relationship when he'd introduced the woman Karen into their home. But the worst cut of all was when her stepmother had given birth to a fine and healthy son. Her father, in his pride, grew less involved with his teenaged daughter, overwhelmed as he was with the blossoming joy in his new family. The young girl felt slighted, especially since her stepmother often looked upon her as a built-in baby-sitter, expecting her to watch the boy several times a week. This did much to increase the resentment she felt towards her new half-sibling.

Never one to let opportunity pass him by, the besotted king had used these circumstances to his benefit. He'd set about his manipulations quickly, eager to claim the unhappy beauty for his own. It had been so easy, leaving the little red book for her to find, knowing that the story within would mesmerize her and lead her straight to him.
And it had. In a fit of temper, she'd called upon him, just as he'd known she would. Feeling particularly sorry for herself, she'd wished away the troublesome babe, playing right into the hands of the enterprising Goblin King. She had no clue that her words would really have any effect. She'd simply been acting out one of her many fantasies, relieving some of her pent-up anger. But effective they were, much to her surprise.

Realizing what she'd done, she'd immediately been sorry and ashamed, begging him for the return of her poor, unfortunate brother. This was exactly as he'd hoped. He now had complete control over her as she agreed to run his Labyrinth in an attempt to win back the wished-away child. For thirteen hours he would have her at his mercy. She would be subject to his every whim as he endeavored to capture her, body and soul.

He'd delighted in showing off his magical abilities, unable to help a certain amount of vain preening. He wanted to impress her, to overwhelm her, setting her world off-balance, making her defeat all the more likely. All he had to do was keep her on unfamiliar footing while she ran his Labyrinth and he'd be sure to win the game between them. How hard could it be to distract the innocent young dreamer from her course?

It had sounded so fool-proof in his head. He realized now that he'd been too confident, not allowing for the girl's sheer ingenuity. She'd been ever so successful in her run, thanks to her ability to turn enemies into friends, taming his most loyal minions and garnering their help along her way. Even he had succumbed to her charms, finding himself more distracted by her than she appeared to be by him. He had given her so much, playing to her girlish fantasies and desires. Where he was usually quite fierce and diabolical, with her he'd been teasing and playful, giving her an unprecedented advantage over him and his magical maze. But still he had anticipated victory. He'd continued to hold on to the hope that by the end of her run, she'd be as taken with him as he was with her, that she'd eagerly accept him and the offer of her dreams.

Sadly, he'd underestimated her. Her sheer determination had made her nearly invincible. She had played his game and won, leaving him lost and heartbroken. How he had suffered when she returned to her mortal world, sentencing him to a loneliness only she could cure. Never had he known the strange feelings that plagued him, feelings of grief and self-doubt. He was Jareth the Storm Bringer, High Prince of the Underground, King of the Goblin Realm. He was adored by his doting parents and indulged by the citizens of his magical world. His every wish had always been granted and he knew no outcome other than success in all he did. Therefore, his defeat at the hands of one stubborn, willful human girl was unbearable, causing him many sleepless nights.

He'd become haunted with the memory of her, obsessing over where his plan had gone wrong. Had he not done all that she'd asked of him? He had worked so hard to fulfill her every fantasy, being the charming, roguish villain her innocent heart craved. She had exhausted him. He'd even gone so far as to throw a ball in her honor, romancing her before an assembly of his fellow Fae, crooning a heart-felt love song to her as he swept her around the dance floor. It had been beautiful, an evening he knew he'd never forget. Closing his eyes, he could still feel the delicious weight of her in his arms, her subtle, intoxicating fragrance mingled with the enticing aroma of the succulent peach he'd given her.

And it was the memory of that peach that had brought him to his senses at last, calming him and comforting his wounded heart. He had at least done one thing right in his dealings with his beloved mortal. He'd given her the enchanted peach. With just one bite, she'd been marked as his, forever linked to him and his 'faery-tale' kingdom. No matter how she fought it, she'd always be bound to him and his world, finding little happiness or satisfaction in her own. She could run for a time, as long as her childish innocence protected her, but eventually she would have to return to him. The Underground was part of her now, and she would be unable to fend off the longing forever.

So it was with renewed purpose that the mighty Goblin King kept watch over his most precious possession, eager for the first sign of her desire to return to him. She had been gone two and a half years now, a time he reluctantly admitted was necessary for her well-being. He realized that she had been too young before, a child not yet ready for his skilled seduction. At fifteen and a half summers, she'd not been of a proper age to assume her position by his side or in his bed. He'd been too impatient to make her his, afraid that she would somehow be taken from him, a thought that made him overly anxious. So he had rushed her, frightening her with his pursuit. It was that fear that had given her the strength to resist him.

But now, at eighteen summers, she was perfectly ripened and matured. She would be most receptive to his magnetic sexuality and persuasive wooing. All he had to do was wait for the proper moment when all was aligned for his success. And so he watched her, day and night, without fail. Duty to his kingdom should have been his first priority, especially since things in the Underground had been changing recently, a subtle shift in the harmonious balance of the magical realm. But his one and only concern was for his precious Sarah. It was a consuming obsession that gave him no peace. He needed her, hungered for her as a starving man hungers for food. He justified his actions, reasoning that she would soon belong to him and then he'd finally be sated. He'd be able to focus once again on his pressing duties, as was his obligation. He would give his attention over to matters of state, aided by his intelligent young queen.

Desperate now to see her in the flesh, to hold her pressed against his aching body, Jareth moved to the stone balcony outside of his tower chamber, transforming into his avian form. With one graceful dive, he left his moonlit castle and began to soar high above the majestic Labyrinth. A thrilling sense of freedom and unbridled power flowed through him as he winged his way across the dark, star-filled sky. He took his time, drifting on the winds that carried his snowy white body aloft, bringing him closer to the shimmery folds of the veil between the worlds.

He soon found himself at his destination, the stately old Victorian where his dearest one lived. He slowed his flight, coming to rest in a gnarled old tree that stood proudly outside of her bedroom window. Through the opening in the gauzy pink curtains he could easily see her, tucked snugly within her bed. With a mere thought, he opened the large, multi-paned barrier of glass, swiftly entering her room with only the slightest sound, his wings whispering in the still night. Changing back to his usual shape, the determined visitor moved towards the girl, weaving protective spells as he went, ensuring that he remained undisturbed by outside intrusions. Another spell sent the sleeping beauty into an even deeper sleep, so that she would not awaken, frightened by her unexpected guest.

Settling himself by her side on the soft mattress, he removed his leather gloves. Softly, reverently, he grasped a silken tendril of her glorious hair, letting it spill over his naked fingers. That simple touch was enough to quicken his pulse, sending shivers down his spine.
Her supple young body lay mostly exposed, the soft white bedlinens having been kicked to the foot of the bed in her restlessness. This afforded him an unhindered view of her porcelain skin, covered only by her tiny white cotton camisole and silky white pajama pants. His mouth went dry at the sight of her firm, ample breasts. They presented an enticing picture, thrust against the thin, sheer fabric of her top, threatening to spill forth in all their magnificent beauty. His keen eye could see the sweet, budding nipples that lay hidden beneath the material. Their dusky hue made a tantalizing contrast to the pale, creamy perfection of the flesh that surrounded them. These were certainly the loveliest breasts he'd ever seen, without comparison.

White-hot desire engulfed him as he looked upon her, making him eager for the moment when he could remove the clothing from her goddess-like body and act on all of his wicked impulses. He grew aroused at the thought of pacifying his greedy mouth on those succulent mounds, suckling upon her hardened nipples as his inquisitive hands memorized every last inch of her. He felt himself become painfully engorged and knew he had to reign in his raging passion, lest he lose what remained of his waning control. He would be patient, he vowed, taking her only when she was his bound and wedded wife, as befitted her station as his queen and the mother of his children. He wanted- no, needed -her to give herself to him freely, without reserve. His victory would be all the sweeter knowing that she wanted it as much as he did.

Leaning forward, he slowly inhaled the sweet breath that escaped her a moment before placing his fevered lips to her soft, generous mouth. A familiar surge of erotic heat fired his blood, just as it did every time he stole a tender kiss. It was a sensation unlike any he had ever experienced with his past sexual conquests. He almost felt frightened by the reaction that only she could stir within him. It was the kind of high that could lead a man to his own damnation if he let it.

Sighing, he nestled into her side, contentment washing over him in waves. He had long ago accepted the fact that he only felt whole and happy when he had her near to him, his flesh caressing hers. This was why he came to her room almost every night. He needed the soothing balm that eased his mind when he held her close. He thrived on the exquisite torture for it made him feel alive. But time would press onward all the faster for his happiness, night giving way to the dreaded morn. He would gather the remaining threads of his willpower, leaving her to return to his palace of stone and the many tasks that awaited him there.

"Soon, my beloved. Very soon," he whispered, reluctantly easing himself away from her, bowing to kiss her parted lips one last time.

With a heavy heart, he lifted his enchantments and once again shifted into the snowy white form of the owl. As silently as he had come, he flew from her bedroom window, out into the rosy-hued dawn.
Had he lingered just one moment longer, he would have heard his name escape from her on a gentle sigh.