Disclaimer: The following is an old Labyrinth fan fiction I wrote for a Labyrinth fan fiction group years. Labyrinth belongs to Henson. Most, if not all, of the Labyrinth fan fiction I am going to post here is at least ten years old, if not older. You will see the original dates they were written placed into these documents. These fan fictions predate the canon of Return to Labyrinth.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Flights of Fancy Part 1 (1 of 3)

From:

Date: Fri, 16 Jun 2000 21:27:55 EDT

Flights of Fancy

Notice: This fan fiction is a collaboration work by Raven and

Brianna "Aradia" Baccera.

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Those words still echoed within Jareth's ears. "You have no

power over me!"

Five long months had passed since Sarah Williams had un-riddled

his intricate Labyrinth.

He was weakened from it all for the most part. At least half

his energy was now gone. To simply take the form of the barn owl to leave

Sarah's house foyer after she had renounced the power that he had held over

her had been a terrific, great effort on his part. He was exhausted.

By now the whole kingdom of The Underground knew that the great

and powerful Jareth, King of all The Goblins, had been defeated. Was that

possible? Had he truly lost?

Jareth only knew a few things for certain. The first and most

important thing hat he knew for certain was that he was in love with Sarah.

Of that there was simply no doubt in his mind what so ever. The second thing

that he knew was that now he was weaker for his defeat. And the third thing

that he knew was that now his authority was being questioned by even the most

imbecilic goblins.

The heartbreak of Sarah's denial of him was one thing, the

humiliation of defeat was another.

Where was he to go from there?

There were riots in The Goblin City. The dwarf, Hoggle, the fox

like goblin creature, Sir Didymous and the mentally incompetent beast, Ludo

were being considered heroes by some and out casts by many. The kingdom was

in a state of pandemonium.

The very goblins that had served him now questioned Jareth's

authority. Jareth felt as if his world was crumbling down all around him.

Could it possibly get any worse then that?

It could...

Jareth sat quietly on his throne. He was trying very hard not to

think about the situation again. His legs were draped over the arm of the

throne, carelessly as he massaged his sinuses. His head hurt. It was

throbbing. He could not think too clearly, but maybe for the time that wasa

good thing. He had not been sleeping well. And the stress of the disorder

of the kingdom was effecting his health in the most negative of ways. The

night was setting in. The goblins were not listening to him. His place as

king almost meant nothing now. What was he to do now?

There was talk; rumours of rebellion, plots of revolution but

where would the goblins possibly find another king?

Jareth was in sheer agony. He had been defeated. That had never

happened before. He had been defeated by a mortal girl ... a mortal girl! The

humiliation was enough to make him want to flee from his own kingdom and

never look back. Of course he loved Sarah all the more for having done that

to him. He admired her. Not many had done that to him. No one for that

matter had done that to him.

Her will WAS as strong as his own.

Jareth longed to be near Sarah and yet he knew not as to how he should go

about to face her. He felt lonely. He was empty inside. He was being

tortured by his own desires. Why did it have to hurt so much?

As Jareth thought about the beautiful young girl, the

precious thing that had turned his world upside down a strange sensation took

him.

It was like a chill running up and down the base of his

spine. He felt as he should be worried about something and yet he knew not

what it was that he should be concerned with.

Jareth looked up suddenly as a cold, icy chill filled the air all

around the castle throne room. The night was setting in rapidly and a small

fire burned in it's place on the other side of the room.

The firelight suddenly seemed to change. It went under a drastic

and sudden transformation. It was as if the flames had absorbed the crystal

blue moon light. The flames burned a bright blue colour as if they were

burning something made entirely out of fats and oils. Jareth had repressed

all memories of his past for quite some time so he did not know yet what was

to come of this strange oddity.

The flames rose and roared- licking and lapping beyond the

hearth. Jareth stood up as an icy wind ran past him, whipping his own long,

blond hair in his face as if he were fighting to stand in a great hurricane.

Five goblins that had been bickering in the corner turned to see this strange

thing.

Out of the flames he emerged.

Jareth gasped.

The figure stood erect. It was an elegant man with the same

facial features as Jareth only perhaps slightly harder, colder. He had blue

eyes, rather like Jareth's. His eyes were the reverse mismatched of his own.

This man's right eye was the slightly over dilated one. This being had

brown hair and was a bit larger of build then Jareth.

Before Jareth could speak or act the flames dyed down and the man

emerged to the center of the throne room, near the child's play pit that now

sat empty.

Jareth's eyes were wide with wonder and horror at the sight of his

father- his father that he had killed one thousand, one hundred years before.

The man waved his hand in the air as if brushing away a fly and

with that slight movement Jareth was shoved backward roughly. It was as if

he had just been hit hard in the chest with the base of an Earthly shopping

truly.

Jareth stumbled down in to his throne.

The man, his father, casually stepped towards him.

"How can this be?" Jareth asked. "No! No... You're dead. I

killed you!"

The figure, which also happened to be dressed exactly like

Jareth, folded his arms over his chest. He grinned.

"Oh, and what an interesting experience that was too. But you

see, boy, since your defeat your powers have been weakened. It was your

power that had held me away but now I doubt you are strong enough to save

your own life."

Grall (His father) shook his head doubtfully. "Defeated by a mortal...

In three thousand years that has never once happened here and yet it

happened to YOU! You are a pathetic wreck, Jareth. And I think that now it

is time that I set MY kingdom right!"

"The Hell you are! No. This is my kingdom. I have been master

here for over a thousand years! I will not let you take it from me now!"

Jareth held out his hand. Rather slowly (for his powers had

greatly been depleted) a swirling wind like a mighty tornado appeared on the

base of his hand's palm. A cool liquid gewed in his fingers in to a soft yet

icy gel. It was icy and cold but then it was comfortably warm. It suddenly

became hard. And then in his hand was a clear-cut crystal ball. It was

small and it fit perfectly in his hand. It caused his whole arm to tingle at

holding it.

Grall growled through fanged teeth. "Jareth, you will pay for what you

have done to me. And for allowing a mortal girl to solve The Labyrinth!"

"You are a fool, Father." Jareth chuckled.

"Oh, am I now?" Grall raised an eyebrow. "You are NOTHING

without your powers, Jareth! And I have come to take back what is

rightfully mine!"

With a simple glance from Grall the crystal that Jareth held in his

hand suddenly shattered. Either Jareth was a great deal weaker then he had

realized or his father had grown a great deal stronger in the years that he

had been absent. Perhaps both were true.

A loud scream echoed through out the kingdom. The voice was

recognized to be that of the king, Jareth.

The cry had been so loud and so desperate that it even made

Hoggle tremble from his little hut beside the pond just outside The Labyrinth.

What could make the king scream?

Somewhere on Earth a building was burning to the ground...

It was great pleasure to watch it all burn- to view the rising of the

black billows of smoke and to view the panicking crowd gather from outside.

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.

There was some strange exhilaration and satisfaction in watching the

licking and lapping flames rising to engulf the large, old, brick building.

She could never quite explain the pleasure that it brought her to watch the

fire.

She knew that they might eventually find out that she had caused the

fire. What did it matter now? She more then likely would not be found out.

She had been far too clever. She had inherited that from her mother, her

cleverness. She had made it look like some strange fluke of an accident.

And even if she were caught her father's money could always pull her out of

any spot. But that was not what she wanted.

He had never much paid very much mind to her while growing up, her

father. He was a good father, he just did not seem to really know how to

show attention or give any affection other then through his wallet.

She was deeply satisfied with herself and by the carnage that she

had created. Her teacher had after all insulted her father. Of course that

was just he superficial reason for what she had done. There were other

reasons as well but whatever the reason had been- the fire had been exquisite.

The young girl stood on the hill and watched the raging fire. No

one had been inside of the building at the time. She had wanted to destroy

that place not a person.

She could remember what her father had said to her early in

September. "It's probably the best school in the country." And of course

Cassandra always had the best. She had the best of everything since she was

a small child. But she did not want that. She had never asked for it, not

any of it. Well, Father had been right. It was at least the best fire that

she had ever seen. It had been brilliant! And it was not the whole school

that she had destroyed. It had just been the biology laboratory.

Her long dark hair swirled around her head. Her fierce blue eyes

watched the flames. The strange hunger that had always been inside of her

was at least momentarily satisfied. The flames were dancing for her. They

danced their dangerous dance as they ate; devouring all of that anger that

was inside of her. She liked the heat of the flames and the continuous

crackling of the blaze.

Her dull gray school uniform was torn. There would be no classes

for at least a week, she thought. And this brought a strange bit of hope to

her.

She wanted to scream sometimes. No one ever paid much mind to her,

especially her father. She felt a little odd, being sixteen and so very

angry that her father had paid such little attention to her growing up.

She did not notice the small, wide-eyed barn owl watching her from

a distance. She did not see him fluttering his wings as she turned to walk

home. She did not think anything of this nocturnal creature watching her in

the bright midday sun.

It would be quite a long walk to get home. It was a rather large

city and there was quite a distance between the football field and her

father's house.

She made it a point to walk home. She did not like being dependent

upon anyone, especially her father's chauffeur or any of his highly paid

staff for that matter.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Flights of fancy Part 1 (2 of 3)

From:

Date: Fri, 16 Jun 2000 21:28:21 EDT

The owl flapped his wings and with a soaring, gliding motion he took

to the air.

The white barn owl flew high over the large city

The large buildings below him seemed to reach up for the Heavens.

The owl used to know a fantastic freedom when he would take to his flights

but not today. Now he felt, for the first time in his long life, trapped,

helpless and completely defenseless. It was a new and terribly painfully,

humiliating sensation for him. And this quirky, angst ridden adolescent was

his only hope.

He felt the damp air rushing under his soft belly. The wind

stirred his feathers though it never once disturbed them from their setting

in his light owl self.

He could feel a chill in the air.

He watched the city far below him. People scurried about shopping

and all those other petty human tasks that filled their day to day, simple

un-complex, little lives.

It had always been hard for him to be an outsider. The owl was a

lone bird of prey.

He would have loved the feeling of the cool, clean, icy breeze under

him but today it was just cold and the cold bothered him. He watched from

his lonely position in the lofty skies, over seeing the human world as if it

were truly his own. What a lie that was! It was not his own. He had never

felt so disconnected from everything before in all of his life.

He felt a deep inner torture, a longing, a desire. He was aching and

he would be doomed to that longing for all of eternity. And he remembered an

old myth that an owl is born with all his questions answered. And he did

wish that all of his questions were answered, they remained, as they seemed

to forever be unresolved. And then there was that fear and worry about what

the future would bring to him and to his world.

He watched the human world with a bitter discontentment. They

were such shallow, conformist, dull creatures at times. The dreamers, the

innovators, the iconoclasts were too few in that world. And he was so weary

of it. They would never understand the gravity of what was happening to a

completely other world.

He was simply the white barn owl, flying over humanity, never touching

it, not really at any rate, understanding it somewhat and yet not caring.

He prayed that time would set him free- free from everything. The

small, white, barn owl had a human mind, an inhuman form yes, but still a

human mind.

He was empty inside. There was darkness within him.

It was indeed a shame that for one thousand, one hundred and

fourteen years that he had not been a part of that world. The only thing

that had ever calmed the flame of hunger that burned from deep within him for

that world that he had no control in was that precious girl, Sarah Williams

whom had solved his intricate Labyrinth. He had wished again and again that

she had accepted his offer and had remained with him at his side as his

Queen. He thought that he might have actually been contented then. It was

hard for him to tolerate his own restlessness.

There was some sort of light trapped from deep inside his own

inner darkness that no one could see, an ability to really care for others,

to allow out some compassion.

He flew higher and higher, trying to let go of everything but the

universe spreading out before him as the thick, polluted, damp city air

thinned around him. He had to follow that girl, Cassandra. She was his only

chance.

He looked down again at the large city, far below him; still able

to see and hear it perfectly with the owl's heightened senses. He was trying

desperately hard to protect his sensitive, predatorial eyes from the harsh

daylight.

He loved the stirring of the brown, dead leaves that crunched under

the feet of those humans, several meters under him who passed by along the

busy, crowded streets. They were hustling and bustling, shopping and

cheering at the simple joys of the season, making merriment in the bitter

weather.

All though he pretended that he did he could never really

understand humanity and in not being a part of it, humanity, he felt a bitter

resentment towards them, human beings. He fancied himself as being far

better then any of them. He feared that human beings were in fact very

destructive. It seemed to him that they were more concerned with creating

weapons to defend and attack against one and other for reasonless fears and

greed rather then striving to make their own lives more comfortable. It

seemed so surreal to him now that he was trapped there in a world that he

could not touch but only observe with his wide and sensitive owl eyes. It

was hard to accept that human beings surround him with such strange and

hypocritical ideals within them and their own culture. It was so very

confusing. It had grown rather difficult for him to understand it all. And

he did not want to care. Why should he care about a world that he could not

touch?

He was inhuman, true enough, but he still held a human mind filled

with human desires and at one time, once upon a time a long, long time ago it

had even been filled with his own dreams. Ah, the dreams of youth are the

regrets of maturity. But how does one know when he is mature enough when he

shall live indefinitely with the same form as humans come and go, age and die

right before him? And how is one to know when he is mature enough when he is

watching a world that is not his own from his own?

He realized his mistake all too late. It was far too bright out

yet. The owl was a nocturnal creature and the day was still in progress.

And his large owl eyes were meant for the nighttime hunt and the darkened

depths of the forests.

The weight of the extremely bright light, beating on to him made him

feel weak and trapped.

He tried hard to focus his eyes but his eyes were not meant for

something so bright.

The light had hurt his owl eyes. It was stinging him like a

thousand daggers, the heat and blast of potent solar radiation catching him

off of his guard him. As he involuntarily flipped over he nearly lost his

place in the sky.

He knew that this was not his proper time of the day but he had to

follow the girl. He knew that she was his only chance. If the sky had been

over cast, if it had been nearing dusk, then it would not have been so very

bad. But the sun was bright and it was directly on top of him. And he was

an owl after all. And it was just so very bright. He struggled hard against

the blinding white light that filled his eyes.

The sun hit him full force with a sudden blast of white light. It

struck him hard. Everything was a painful, blurry haze. The sun was strong

and bright. The sky was a bright sapphire blue but the owl's eyes did not see

the blue. All they saw was the intense white light of that unnatural flame

that was for him the sun. The light was blinding. His eyes hurt. They felt

as if they were on fire, his eyes. He could no longer see through them, as

the light was so great that the blast struck him. The light was so harsh and

bright yet to his owl eyes that he thought that his eyeballs might just

explode and pop in their very sockets. He tried to shut his eyelids. The

light passed right through them. The light was killing his eyes and piercing

through their very lids. All that he could see was an intense white light

everywhere that he turned even through the vale of his eye lids the light was

incredible. Nothing could block out this white torture.

Nearly blinded from the harsh daylight he flew near to London Zoo

within the property lines of Regent's park.

Two small boys looked up to the sky and they saw the most unusual

thing. It was an owl in the daytime and it moved about like a drunken pilot

poorly managing his jet. The owl fluttered it's wings, trying to dart in to

shadows from the bright day light. But it was hard for him to move. And it

was hard for him to see.

"Hey, look up there!" Said one of the two boys. "It's an owl!"

"Cool!" Said the other boy who grabbed up a large stone and chucked

it towards the owl with malicious glee.

The boy who had pointed out the owl to his companion scooped up

some loose stones in to his hand and began to toss them at the owl, intent to

see it fall to Earth and more then likely die with a hard, splattering

impact. Knock it right out of Heaven!

Because of his distraction from the bright light the owl did not see

the stones flying towards him, or the particular one that hit him hard in the

wing.

The suddenly sharp jolt of pain was incredible as his wing was

horribly sprung back, ill shaped and obviously broken from the hard blow.

He fell. All he saw was the bright intense light covering

everything. He tried hard to struggle against it but he was falling and

falling fast, he was plummeting towards Earth. He tried once to desperately

flap his wings despite the incredible pain of the right wing, which was

broken. As he did this a sharp jolt of pain, like a coursing flash of black

lightning passed through his entire being. If an owl could scream he would

have screamed. He tumbled hard and fast from the sky.

He landed hard to the ground. It came with a sickening thud. The

tiny, light bones of the owl felt as if they were crushed. He cried out in

pain but it was a silent wail. It was but a faint screech from the bowels of

the helpless, broken owl. He saw a flash of white light that turned red

against his momentarily blinded eyes, the physical manifestation of his shock

and pain. He was paralyzed. He was slipping, falling in to himself. Waves

of strange, unnatural darkness swept in all around him. He felt as if he

were floating in weightlessness, in water. He was drowning in himself. He

was dizzy. His tiny owl lungs were unable to breathe. His chest felt as if

it had been crushed on impact. He felt the ribs piercing, crushed in to the

diaphragm as the blood pooled around him. He dared not move at all.

He might have just been an owl but he was cursed in that he could

not die. The pain would pass soon enough and he would heal. He simply had

to be patient, despite the nearly unbearable agony.

He blinked his owl eyes, trying to see, straining hard against the

bright light. A shadow, the silhouette of a young woman stood over him. He

heard her voice say "Oh, my God!" at the sight of the tiny crushed bird, that

he was. And though it was nearly impossible for him to see her, he could

sense that this was Cassandra. And before he completely lost consciousness

from the agonizingly great pain of it all he thought to himself, marveled at

his strange luck that she should be the one to find him.

A heavy blackness had swept over him. He had felt incredibly dizzy.

He was over whelmed. The world around him was spinning. He could feel

himself swimming in black weightlessness.

Cassandra looked down at wonder and surprise at the wounded little

owl. She could see that he was breathing. She did not know what to do.

What was an owl doing out and about at that time of the day? Did he belong

to the zoo? What should she do?

Suddenly Cassandra took in to herself the notion to take the owl

home with her and care for it. Her father had made her pack up her

belongings and move three times in the last twelve months and she did not

have very many friends. It would be an interesting and for her a novel new

experience for her to look after the owl.

The owl slowly opened his large eyes and looked up at her wide-eyed.

He did not move to flutter his wings, especially the broken one, which had

not yet healed. He did not screech or make a sound, as one would expect a

wounded owl might just do in such a situation. He kept perfectly still and

quiet. And all though it appeared that he could have easily snapped at one

of Cassandra's fingers he did nothing of the sort. He simply looked at her.

He did not see her very well, a dark silhouette in the light, but he knew

that she was there nonetheless. And he also knew that he might lose

consciousness very soon and it was by sheer will alone that he managed to

keep awake.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Flights of Fancy Part 1 (3 of 3)

From:

Date: Fri, 16 Jun 2000 21:29:43 EDT

Cassandra took off her school Jacket and carefully wrapped the broken

little owl in to the bundle. She was careful not to allow for too much

movement and she held the creature gently, rather as if it were a small baby

rather then a wounded owl.

She was reluctant to allow herself to ride home in a taxicab. She

had wanted to prove herself to herself somehow by being self-reliant in

taking the long walk to her home rather then having to rely on her father's

money but she feared for the owl. She did not how of the walk would be too

much of a strain on him, the wounded little owl. For all she knew the poor

creature could have been dying.

The taxicab turned by Oxford Street with a sharp jolt.

The owl's tiny body screamed in pain and he lost consciousness yet

again.

The driver had not liked the idea much of taking on a passenger with

a live package in her arms but the bird was clearly unconscious and he was

barely certain that it was even breathing. It disgusted him, the idea of

taking a wild animal in to his taxicab. And suppose that thing were to die

during the trip- what then? That was clearly was against the regulations of

public transportation. But all his fears and apprehensions were calmed when

he realized who his young passenger was. The girl had been reluctant about

confirming her identity. Her father was one of the richest men in the city.

And she paid the driver well enough, far more then the fair would have been

simply for the sake of being certain that he would say nothing about her owl

and would drive her straight to her home without pause to pick up another

passenger.

He did not need to ask what her address was. Most everyone knew where

that place was though not many went there.

When they pulled up in front of her father's house he even opened the

back door for her, rather like one of her father's chauffeurs. Cassandra

frowned. She did not like that much- that she could not even ride a taxicab

home like everyone else.

When she stepped in to the foyer the owl seemed to wince from the

loud music over the radio in her father's down stairs study. Under Pressure

was playing very loudly. Well, at least she knew that her father was home.

He was probably writing again. He had been doing that quite a lot lately,

just sitting around and writing away at his computer when he was home. What

the Hell was he working on now? What sort of project had caught her father's

fancy this time around?

And she absolutely hated that song! It was not that Under Pressure

was a bad song. It was good song despite the age of it. It was just that it

was one of her father's favourites. And she heard him play it so often when

he was working. And that meant that he would spend even less time with her

then he already did.

("Pressure pushing down on me,

Pressing down on you,

No man asked for,

Under pressure

That burns a building down,

Splits a family in two,

Puts people on streets,")

She walked towards the source of the music, the stereo system in her

father's study down the hall. She knew the words to that song by heart from

having heard it played so often.

("That's o-kay,

It's the terror of knowing what this world is about

Watching some good friends screaming "Let me out!"

Pray tomorrow takes me higher,

Pressure on people, people on streets,")

Still carrying the owl that seemed to be very worried about his

surroundings, Cassandra entered her father's study. The room was cluttered

with books about magick and the occult. Her father was obsessed with the

study of parapsychology. Of course her father was also going through a

mid-life crisis and could not quite grasp the notion that he was aging.

Perhaps he hoped to find some sort of key to immortality. There seemed to be

no one on the planet quite as fearful of death as her father.

("O-kay,

Chipping around, kick my brains around the floor,

These are the days it never rains but it pours,

People on streets, people on streets,

It's the terror of knowing what this world is about,

Watching some good friends screaming `Let me out!'

Pray tomorrow takes me higher,

Pressure on people, people on streets,

Turned away from it all, like a blind man,

Sat on a fence but it don't work,

Keep coming up with love but it's so slashed and torn,

Why, why, why?

Love, love, love, love,

Insanity laughs, under pressure we're cracking,")

Perhaps it was not exactly a fear of dying in general that gripped

at Cassandra's father. Maybe he was simply fearful of the idea of

helplessness in his old age or maybe he disliked the idea of no longer being

physically attractive as he had been in his youth.

Just as she thought he would be- her father was typing feverishly

away on a writing project of his. She could never quite grasp how her

father's mind worked. One moment he could be writing away on a melancholy

song or poem, the next instant he could be writing a paper on dream

definition for someone that he had met over The Internet, or painting away

the landscape of a fantasy world that he had always called "The Underground".

He had not noticed or possibly simply chose not to acknowledge that

Cassandra had entered the room.

("Can't we give ourselves one more chance?

Why can't we give love that one more chance?

Why can't we give love, give love, give love, give love,

Give love, give love, give love, give love, give love?"

And this was replied with.

"Because love's such an old fashioned word

And love dares you to care for the people

On the edge of the night

And love dares you to change our way

Of caring about ourselves,

This is our last dance,

This is our last dance,

This is ourselves

Under pressure,

Under pressure,

Pressure.")

Cassandra called out. "Daddy. Daddy! DADDY!"

Her father was so engrossed in his work that he did not seem to

hear her. She shut off the volume to the stereo system. "Daddy!"

He finally seemed to acknowledge her. Without looking up from

his computer he muttered. "Hmm... What is it, Cassia?"

"Daddy, I found an owl in the park. I think he's hurt. I'm going

to keep him in Polly's old cage, is that okay?"

The way her father continued on typing with the intent that he had

Cassandra knew that he had not really acknowledged that she was actually

there.

"... Oh, and I burnt down the school's biology lab." She said

nonchalantly.

Now she knew for certain that her father had not been paying any

mind to her. His reply was like that of a man in a trance or under some sort

of enchantment. "Hmmm? Oh, that's nice, love. Have fun."

"Daddy!" She cried. "Are you listening to a word I'm saying?" She

sighed and then rolled her eyes. She was crest fallen. "No, of course not."

Cassandra sighed deeply as she walked from the room.

Her father turned from the computer but Cassandra was already half way

down the hall and near to the staircase leading up to her rooms. "What was

that about the school's biology laboratory?" He waited a moment and when

their came no reply he shrugged his shoulders and went back to his work.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Flight of Fancy,Chapter 4

From:

Date: Sat, 17 Jun 2000 00:36:15 EDT

Note:This is something that both Raven and I have worked on for awhle.

Standered Crap does apply..neither of us own anything we are just using this

for our own sick reasons, "borrowed" characters will be give to their owners

when we are done...

-----------------------------------------------

Flight of Fancy

Chapter 4

It was a cage that smelt as if it had belonged once to an old parrot and

needless to say it had.

After Cassandra had shut the cage door and flipped the tiny lock she

drew shut the curtains of her room. The cage hung from a hook on her

ceiling. It was a fairly large cage but the owl did not care much for the

smell of it.

Cassandra had no way of knowing if the owl would live through the

night. She should see if she could get him to eat. Mice were fairly cheap

at the pet supply shoppe.

He turned up his beak at the sight of the rodent as the mouse was

tossed in to the cage with him.

Cassandra wondered if she should kill the mouse for the owl. But

owls are not scavengers and she knew this. Owls enjoyed the hunt and

therefor ate live mice and not the carcasses of dead mice that they just

happened by.

After a few hours and the owl had not moved to eat three

thoughts came to Cassandra's mind as ideas as to why the owl was not eating.

One: He could have been in too great a pain to want to eat just then. Two:

He could have been so ill or on the fringe of death and did not notice the

mouse at all or Three: Somehow she had happened upon a vegetarian owl.

The last thought amused Cassandra a little though she did fear that

she was keeping a dying creature. She could think of not much else to do for

him. It was far too late in the day by now; the veterinarian would have

closed up her office by now. And she did not wish to hand her new found pet

over to the animal shelter. What if they killed him out of "mercy" because

he was so badly hurt? She did not want that. She wanted to see him well.

There was something strangely beautiful yet tragic about this simple

barn owl.

Cassandra lay down to sleep on her day bed just across the room

from the cage where her little guest was. It was late in to the night when

he completely healed. His wing was mended as if by magick and he seemed

surprisingly quite fit but still he refused to touch the mouse that looked as

if at any moment it would die of fright alone at the base of the cage.

As Cassandra slept she had the most unusual dreams. In the dream

Cassandra was lost in a realm of shadow and fog. There was no ground on

which to stand on and there were no walls of which she could hold on to and

yet she was standing as surely as she had been standing out in the cold

earlier that very day.

A strange man appeared in this realm of Cassandra's mind and in a

mist of clouds and fog they spoke. He appeared very suddenly in the first

sight of him there as if he were ripping the very fabric of Cassandra's mind

to come to her and make himself known in an entrance into her imaginary

realm.

He was an extremely magical being with a very human outward

appearance. He had gorgeous, long, yellow blond hair that hung lightly spiked

and feathered on his head. He wore eccentric garments of an odd combination

of eighteenth century fashion and something of the taste of a Glam-rock

musician's wardrobe.

He wore tight black trousers. He wore a silk white shirt with an

opened 'V' neck lined collar. On his neck he wore on a chain; hanging from

his neck on this chain he wore his silver cicle pendent with the gold coin

within it's center. He wore leather boots and leather gloves over his

slender hands.

He was a handsome creature. And he looked to be about the age of

thirty-eight years old. He was fairly tall and thin with a feline like grace

about him. He had peculiar yet very alluring, slightly mismatched eyes. His

eyes were blue, but strangely mismatched in that his left one was just

slightly over dilated then the other.

"Who... who are you?" Cassandra stammered.

Cassandra's voice echoed as if she were in some great cavern and yet

there were no walls to be seen yet there were invisible boundaries. It was

as if Cassandra was walking through a rain cloud in the sky and she had no

way as to know as to how to get out of it. She was not walking though it

just seemed that she was. She was somehow drifting and yet she stood where

she was in place.

She felt strange there. She was light. She was confused. It

seemed that she moved the way that waves on water would have moved, it would

seem. It was very peculiar to her. It was very strange to her.

"Listen to me, Cassandra" The strange man said as he stepped

towards her. "You must do as I say. There is another world calledThe

Underground and it is in dire jeopardy. You must release the owl. He'll

lead you where you must go. You have to face the one who calls himself

Grell."

"But who are you and why must I have to do this?" Cassandra

asked.

"Because it has to be a mortal girl. It is the only way. It is

your destiny, Cassandra. You must do this. You'll be greatly rewarded if

you do this. I shall see to it that you gain your fondest desire.... The

stranger seemed to be becoming quite frantic. "I haven't much time. You

must do this!"

His image then began to waggle and wave like ripples in water.

He wrinkled and folded like a wave of liquid. His image blurred out

into the backdrop like setting. He did not try to leave as his voice had

fallen silent and in the moment of disappearance he had moved his lips yet in

a futile attempt to warn her of the impending danger no words had come out

from past his lips. Something had made him fade away against both their

wills.

He was gone and Cassandra stood alone but only for an instant.

The world around her faded away. It was all done and over with now. The

dream ended abruptly on her. She was in her own bed again. Her eyes opened

wide in the early morning daylight that gently stroked her face to awaken

her.

Cassandra sat up with a start. There was a great commotion

across the room. The barn owl was clinking and clattering around inside of

his cage. His wings flapped frantically as he banged around from the inside

of the cage.

Cassandra blinked her eyes. She could not believe it. The barn

owl that she had been so certain had been on the fringe of death only the

night before appeared to be quite healthy.

She did not know what drove her to do it but Cassandra stepped

close to the cage. She reached out a cautious hand and flipped the lock. A

the little door swung open on it's hinge the bird flew out. It fluttered

around the room for a moment and all Cassandra could do was watch and stare

in wonder before he flew out the open window.

"Wait!" She cried. It appeared as if the barn owl understood her

for he perched himself on top of the front garden fence and sat waiting for

her.

Cassandra pulled on the clothing that she had been wearing

the day before. She rushed out the front door after the barn owl.

Cassandra's father sat up with a jolt. His eyes were wide. He knew

what was to happen but he did not wish to admit it. "Grell has returned"

He had had a premonition. Why did they have to drag his daughter in to this?

He climbed out of bed quickly. "Cassie! Cassie!" He ran from his

room and down the hall

Just as he had feared, Cassandra was not there. Her bed was left on

made but then again she never was one to tidy up her own room. He looked

around the room. How long had she been gone? Could she actually have... ?

But no! That was not possible. Was it? She had no way of knowing about

THAT!

He stepped over to the empty birdcage. At once he regretted not

paying attention to Cassandra the day before. A chill ran down his spine

when he saw the two owl feathers on the base of the cage.

Without a moment's hesitation Cassandra's father ran back in to his

own room and tore open wide his closet. In a hope chest at the base of the

closet lay the two things that he was searching for, a single crystal orb and

a somewhat tattered hooded riding cloak that looked to be something from

centuries before. It was made of dark blue velvet. He shook to cloak to

shake the dust from it. A determined look spread across his face.

Jared couldn't care about The Underground. What concerned him was

that his youngest daughter was being dragged in to this. Leaving his brother

Jareth and that other world behind for the sake of living a calm mortal life

had been his decision. It would have been safer for his infant daughter

who's mother had been killed during the fabled war between the kingdom of

Blackrose and The Underground. But now destiny had pulled him back, hadn't

it? He could no longer run from who he truly was.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Flight of Fancy Chapter 5

From:

Date: Sat, 17 Jun 2000 00:36:26 EDT

Note:This is something that both Raven and I have worked on for awhle.

Standered Crap does apply..neither of us own anything we are just using this

for our own sick reasons, "borrowed" characters will be give to their owners

when we are done...

-----------------------------------------------

Flight of Fancy

Chapter 5

Gasping for breath Cassandra ran in to the alleyway. The owl fluttered his

wings as he kept his place in the air over a manhole cover. Cassandra

blinked her eyes. "You want ME to go down there?"

She looked to the owl as if she actually expected an answer.

Cassandra sighed and stepped foreword. She could not believe

any of this. She was beginning to question her sanity. How could she

possibly believe any of this? This was simply madness! She saw a man in a

dream and now she was following after a barn owl that was supposed to be

dying.

She kneeled down before the manhole cover. She would never be able

to lift the lid. The owl was fluttering his wings frantically as if to try

and tell her to hurry on up.

Cassandra reached down for the lid but to her utter amazement and

astonishment her hand passed straight through the lid.

She gasped and for a moment Cassandra thought that she might faint.

The manhole, that whole section of concrete was not real. It was some sort

of an illusion.

Now, though this might have caused a panic in the average girl

Cassandra was not quite an average girl. And Cassandra did ever so love a

grand adventure. And there was not one thing that Cassandra had learned

early on in life and that was to expect the unexpected and to embrace it.

She took a deep breath and leaped forward in to the unknown. An icy,

gray mist seemed to engulf her. It was swallowing her whole. The icy chill

of it passed under her arms. A gray mist seemed to sweep around her and she

was momentarily weightless. The ground vanished. It seemed to Cassandra

that the world was falling down around her. All that she could see around

here was a deep blackness. The alley was gone. The owl was gone and then

suddenly Cassandra could feel the ground under her feet again. And the sky

was lighter. There was something different to the air. Everything had

changed or had it?

---------------------------------- (This section by Aradia)-----------------

Grall was watching the Underground through a crystal, with an arrogant

smirk on his face. His authority was un-passed since his son had been

banished to earth. His daughter was no where to be found and would not be

able to face him, terrified of him as she was.

Gall chuckled as he considered his children. Such waste's, the both of

them. Christine and Jareth both had potential, with their powers but were to

damn stubborn to listen to him. Ah, well it wasn't like he did not have other

children.

His eyes picked up a young girl with long dark hair and fierce blue eyes.

She had an angel's beauty. Something was different to this girl. She was not

a mere mortal, she could not be! He caught sight of the white owl following

her and his smirk deepened. Ah so this was the one that Jareth had chosen to

be his champion.

He chuckled deeply and threw the crystal at the wall. He would face this

important girl and destroy his proud, arrogant son. And he had thought that

today would be boring.

Cassandra was tiring, She leaned agents a wall and closed her eyes.

The bird flapped his wings around her as if to tell her to keep moving, that

they did not have much time. She opened her eyes and looked at the strange

world that had surrounded her. Their was no ground, everything but the owl

and her was gray mist.

She looked at the owl. "What are you?" Cassandra's skin had startled to

crawl a little. It had become obvious to her that this was no ordinary owl,

but something magical, something different like an elf or a goblin.

Cassie smiled and held out a hand to the owl. She talked to him in a soft

voice. "Perhaps that's who you are!" The bird landed on her hand and looked

at her with its huge eyes. "Perhaps you are the Goblin King, and you had been

trapped like this since a defeat at the hands of a beautiful young maiden."

Cassie laughed at her imagination.

After a second, the young girl pushed herself up and continued to keep

walking. She had the feeling that eyes were on her, ancient, old, malevolent=

eyes.

Jared calmly looked into the crystal. He had the cape thrown on his

shoulders and was holding the crystal gazing into it. He spoke with a command

in his voice, like one would after years of practice. "Show me my child."

After a second, the crystal revealed Cassandra. As always Jared was blown

back at how the young girl resembled her mother. He feared for her if Grall

managed to find out about her. He did not know what Grall would be capable of

and it shook him to image his innocent, beautiful young daughter falling into

the monster's hands.

He closed his eyes. He deeply regretted not having told her anything

about her past and who she was. He knew she had hated being with others her

age. She could never belong, although she was intelligent.

He voiced his command to the crystal. "Take me to my child."

Cassandra was walking around, hopelessly lost. She was tired, moody and

irritable. The owl was on her shoulder. She was about to scratch him when a

huge flame appeared. The flame was blue and it smelled, oh Goddess how it

smelled.

A handsome man stepped out of the flame. He had pitch black hair and a

cold, cruel, handsome face. Something about this man, perhaps it was his

aura around him, give Cassie the feeling that it was best to not trifle with

the man.

His odd eyes seemed to bore into her. The owl was up now and flapping his

wings. The man threw back his head and laughed. "The owl and the girl... how

darling." He sneered

Cassie fought the urge to take a step back. Definitely, she raised her

fierce blue eyes to his and tosses her hair back, refusing to be intimidated.

"Who are you? What are you?" Than, deciding to humiliate him, she wrinkled

her nose, "And please tell me what just died?"

The man narrowed his eyes at her. "My name, little girl, little mortal,

is Grall, king of the Goblins."

At that, the owl started to flap his wings. Grall threw his head

back and roared in laughter.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Flight of Fancy-Chapter 6

From:

Date: Sat, 17 Jun 2000 00:37:08 EDT

Note:This is something that both Raven and I have worked on for awhle.

Standered Crap does apply..neither of us own anything we are just using this

for our own sick reasons, "borrowed" characters will be give to their owners

when we are done...

-----------------------------------------------

Flight of Fancy

Chapter 6

"Such a pity you are trapped like that Jareth... I am sure your sister is

missing you as we speak." As he spoke, he moved closer to Cassandra. When he

was in front of her, her lowered his voice, "As for you, little girl, you are

in my land therefor YOU WILL FEAR ME" He spoke in a cold whisper.

Before he could get any closer, the owl dove for him. A sudden thought

appeared in her head. It was so alien, it had to come from some one else.

"CASSANDRA-RUN!" It was the voice from the dream. In that instant, Cassandra

understood how the dream and the Owl were connected.

~NO!I want to help you!~ Cassandra threw back at the owl. She was surprised

at the volume of the Owl's thoughts. ~No... all he'll do is hurt you! Leave

while you have the chance!~

Cassandra didn't know what to do. In the end she would look back at this

moment and wonder why she did not take the Owl's advice. She was afraid and

angry. She should have done what the owl ordered her to do.

Cassandra did not even think, she leaped and attacked Grall. He roared

with anger, grabbed her arm and disappeared, leaving one lone, white owl

dazed and more angry than he had ever been in his long life.

In a flash of white light, Jared appeared beside the owl. The

man grabbed the owl and than held it an arms length from him. "Okay,

Jareth... where the Hell is my daughter? What the Hell have you done with

her?!?"

The owl blinked his eyes. How was this possible? How could he have been

so stupid to not know who Cassandra was? And now that monster had her. If

Jareth were in his human form, he would have bowed his head in shame.

Jared jumped back. "How does he have her?" The man asked in a whisper. He

almost kneeled over. He could only image what Grall would do to her if he

knew who she was, or better yet, what she was. The owl fluttered to his

shoulder and Jared stood up.

He did not want to confront Grall. It was one of the reason's he had

taken his baby daughter and had left everything behind he knew of. He sighed.

"We better go and free her." He said softly to Jareth. It wasn't like he had

much of a choice, now was it?

---------------------(Section by Raven)---------------

Cassandra appeared on a platformed landing in The Escher room. The

room was a complicated and confusing piece of gravity defying architecture.

It could make someone ill by the sight of it or drive another mad at trying

to move about within it or try to escape from it. There were several sets of

inverted staircases going this way and that, and every which way, with

platforms and landings at every possible angle. There were passages that

lead in to no where and mind boggling arrangements of staircases going down

from the side of a wall or upside down from the ceiling. A passage could

bring you up and out- upside down and facing the opposite direction then you

were. One moment a staircase could seem to be leading upward and the next it

will appear that it was on it's side as you had been climbing it. There were

passages and staircases leading from The Escher Room's floor or at least what

would appear to be the room's floor. The Escher room had been designed so

that the victim of this mind boggling trap would have absolutely no sense of

up or down, of direction, of depth or distance. It could shatter the nerves

of very nearly any one who did not know how to master the strange bit of

trickery that existed within it.

Cassandra gasped. She had seen nothing like this before in her

life but she was not afraid, at least not really at any rate.

Above, below, or around her- which, she could not tell- was the vast

stone hall that made up what made up The Escher room.

The hall was filled with very many staircases, balconies, windows

and doorways at very many different heights and odd angles to each other- all

around, in every which possible direction.

Cassandra by now had lost almost all sense of reality. She had

no real idea as to what was up or down, near of far, inside or outside, or

backward or forward.

Planes seemed to reverse themselves as she silently watched them,

trying desperately and futilely to gather her wits about her. Receding

corners suddenly jutted out. Rising steps suddenly seemed to invert

themselves. Floors were suddenly transformed in to ceilings and walls where

transformed in to Precipices.

In this strange, surreal room, in the heart of a strange surreal

alternate reality it appeared that the very law of gravity had been repealed.

And her perspective was suddenly forced to take on seven different

dimensions all at once. If there had been water here, she fancied that it

probably would appear to be flowing up hill.

Cassandra managed to blurt out "Where am I?".

Grall stood before Cassandra in a burst of blue flame. His hands were on his

hips and a smug smile spread across his thin lips.

"What do you want with me?" Cassandra cried.

"You, my dear, have something that I want. And I shall have it!"

Cassandra took a step back and nearly fell right off the platform.

"What do you want from me?... She asked.

Grall raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come now. You don't know?"

Gall raised his hand and with a grand gesture he and

Cassandra both appeared in the throne room of the castle.

"Now,... Said Grall. "You hold within you a great power- it's of

little use to you and I shall have it!"

"Power, what on Earth are you talking about?" Cassandra blinked

her eyes.

Grall began to pace around Cassandra, circling her like a vulture.

Cassandra watched him with cold contempt. She refused to show

any signs of fear .

"You shall serve me, Cassandra. I shall have you under my control.

You are filled with a magick, a magick that I shall claim for myself to make

myself invincible. All I demand is that you yield to me."

He stepped towards her and placed a hand under her chin. ::Surrender

yourself, Cassandra. Surrender yourself to me and I may just allow you to

live on....

Cassandra clenched her hands in to fists and looked up, deep

in to his fierce eyes. "Never!"

With a quick kick her knee shot up straight in between Grall's thighs.

As Grall's eyes went wide and a silent scream of rage rose from

him. The crunching and then the pain shooting up and through him made him

desire to kill Cassandra.

Cassandra took this opportunity to try and run from the room. She

ran towards a set of doubled doors that stood open to a hallway.

Just as Cassandra reached the doorframe the two large doors slammed shut and

bolted against her.

Cassandra slowly turned around. By this time Grall had completely

composed himself. "And where do you think you're going?"

From another passage in to the throne room the distinct sound of

boots rushing up a flight of stairs could be heard. In moments a cloaked

figure, his head hidden by the hood of his cloak entered the room. The

while owl fluttered his wings, nearly level with the man's head.

The man unscathed a sword that hung on the hilt at his belt (Where

the sword must have been obtained was unknown to Grall. It quite possibly

could have been stolen from one of his goblin guards.)

"You will unhand my daughter!" The man said. With a quick

gesture Jared pulled down the hood of his cloak revealing his face.

Cassandra could not believe her eyes. She did not know just how

to react to this. Just how did her father get here? What was happening?

She did not say a word but looked on wide-eyed as the demon, Grall turned,

and slightly limping yet stepped towards her father.

A look of unsurpassed rage and fury was on Grall's face.

"HOW!?!" Grall screamed. "How did this happen?!" He recognized

Jared immediately to be of his own blood. That was how Cassandra had such

power that he could sense. She had inherited. And she had inherited it

through a direct bloodline to him!

His eyes met with the owl's. "And YOU! YOU LEAD THEM HERE! I

should have destroyed you a long time ago"

Grall raised his hand. Something that looked to a great deal like lightning

or an electrical current shot from his fingertips and struck at the owl's

chest.

The barn owl was caught in mid air for a moment as it's beak opened.

If the owl could have screamed he probably would have.

As Grall struck the bird, Jared rushed towards him. He held his

sword forward and lunged for Grall's heart. Distracted from the barn owl

Grall concentrated his magick at Jared.

He attempted to shoot a current of power straight at Jared but with

a quick swiping of his sword a strange white mist surrounded Jared. He was

protected from the assault.

Grall out stretched his arm and held out his hand. A spilt moment later he

was holding a sword. "And now, you die!" He said as he thrusted his sword

at Jared.

The owl fell to the ground from the force of the magick that had

struck him. It appeared to be dead. Cassandra cried out. "No!"

She rushed over to the owl. Oddly, as if it had never been an owl a

man lay where the owl had been. It was the same man from Cassandra's dream.

He had shoulder length blond hair. His skin was pale. He was

fairly tall. His eyes were held tightly shut. He had gorgeous, long,

yellow blond hair that hung lightly spiked and feathered on his head. His

clothing was of an eccentric style of an odd combination of eighteenth

century fashion and something of the taste of a Glam-rock musician's

wardrobe. He wore tight trousers. He wore a silk white shirt with an opened

'V' neck lined collar. On his neck he wore on a chain; hanging from his

neck on this chain he wore a gold cicle pendent with the silver coin within

it's center. He wore leather boots and leather gloves over his slender

hands. He a handsome creature. And he looked to be about the age of

thirty-eight years old. The expression upon his face was indeterminable.

Cassandra hoped that he was not dead.

Jared blocked at Grall's attack with his sword. He struck low,

trying to drive Grall off of balance.

-------------------------------- ( Section by Aradia)-------------------------------

The sounds of battle reached her ears. For the rest of eternity,

she would remember this clearly. The dark haired girl slowly stood up and

faced Grall. She remembered all of the times that she had felt something... a

power in her. She remembered the heat and the way the fire felt.

She closed her eyes. Something seemed to glow in her hands, it was both

hot and cold, filled with the energy of fire and the serenity of water..

Grall felt something, a power rising in the air. It was stronger than any

he had ever felt in his life. He turned to the young girl, who seemed to be

glowing with a soft white light. At that instant she cupped her hands and

channeled a burst of white light at him. At the same instant the ray of light

struck him, the blade came down on his neck, severing his head from his body.

Cassandra collapsed next to Jareth and than took his hand. Jared came rushing

over to help his daughter. He took the other hand. Soon both father and

daughter were channeling energy into Jareth.

Just as Cassandra thought it was hopeless, the strange man opened his eyes.

he blinked. Cassandra smiled weakly and than fainted.

A ray of light fell on her face. The young girl blinked and sat up,

trying to get out of the sun. The memories of last night came to her. She put

a hand to her forehead and looked around. It was no dream. This room was not

her own. it was done in a beautiful soft blue with everything in matching

shades of silver. The bed she was in was a canopy bed with everything done in

soft navy silk.

The door opened and three people entered. One was her father, the other

was that strange man and right behind them, with a basket in her hands was a

woman with long black hair and pale skin. She was exceptionally beautiful.

She walked to the side of the bed and gently took Cassandra's hand in hers to

feel her pulse. After a few minutes, the women smiled and turned to the men.

"The child will be fine. She is just drained at the moment. Let her

rest." Her father let out a sigh of relief and came to sit in his daughter's

bed, beside her. He hugged her close to him. The strange man cleared his

throat. Jared looked up and smiled.

"Cassie, this is your Uncle, Jareth and your aunt, Christine. That

monster, was Grall." Her aunt bent down and kissed her cheek. She than

squeezed her twin's hand and picking up her basket, walked out of the room

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] (no subject)

From:

Date: Sat, 17 Jun 2000 00:37:50 EDT

Note:This is something that both Raven and I have worked on for awhle.

Standered Crap does apply..neither of us own anything we are just using this

for our own sick reasons, "borrowed" characters will be give to their owners

when we are done...

-----------------------------------------------

Flight of Fancy,

Epoligue

"Yes," Said Jareth. "A long time ago your father chose a mundane life over

his birthright."

Jared laughed slightly. "Only you would call my life mundane."

--------------------- (Closing by Aradia)------------------------------------

"Daddy, why didn't you explain?" Cassandra asked.

Jared cleared his throat, "You see dear... "

Cassandra was looking for her uncle. He was no where in the Underground,

and she wanted to ask him something. Sighing she went looking for her aunt,

Christine. Christine was at the moment sitting on a throne, dressed in a

beautiful red velvet dress that hung off her shoulders. her aunt was brooding

about her daughter, Amber. As soon as she saw Cassie though, she smiled, got

up and hugged her.

"Cassie, I think Jareth is at the moment, in some club on earth. He met

a... rather interesting vampire a few days ago, he told me to tell you f you

wanted to go and meet him." Cassie smiled and than disappeared to the club.

When she appeared in the club called the Raven, she had on a lacy black

mini dress with black heels and pantyhose, her long dark hair in a brad

behind her. She easily found her uncle and saunted to where he was sitting.

Her uncle was at the moment talking to a rather strange man. He had short

white blond hair and cold blue eyes, he was very handsome in a strange way

with pale skin. He looked up and their eyes met.

Cassie inhaled in surprise at how old his eyes looked. Jareth smiled, not

noticing the look passing between his young niece and the ancient vampire.

"Cassandra, I would like you to meet Lucian LaCroix... "

The End