Ever since I saw some interesting fanfic on here about Labyrinth, this popped into my head. I just went with it. I don't own Labyrinth or Lord of the RIngs, though I would saw off my right leg if I had a shot at it, lol!

Galadriel

And so it had come. Another age had passed. The relevance of her people, of her, of thier sturggles and sorrows had become no more than a popular fiction due to a movie who got too many things wrong. Granted she gave them credit. The world of the past was a paradise in it's darkest hour compared to this place. Middle-Earth was devoid of all it's magick. That which had made it so beautiful in the beginning. In the place of the great dwellings of her people stood ugly tall buildings with no grace, no design, and no respect for the life that was around it.

She had held so much hope that things could change. When her grandaughter and Estel reinstated the line of Numenor, perhaps not all would be lost. But foresight never failed her. And she wanted to hold on to her Golden Wood for as long as she could. So it was with an excellptionally long heart that she watched the last ship sail away with Celeborn, her husband aboard for the undying lands. She still could not recall that day without tears.

But the Lady herself? Still beautiful. The most beautiful of her father's house, and the strongest. How funny it was, that she would be last. Feanor himself use to praise her hair, the way it seem lit as though the light laurlin ran through it with strands of moon. She stuck out even amongst her people. For she was strong, tall, swift of mind, and spoke plainly and had a great power for the seen and unseen. The dwarves use to call her the Elf Witch.

She walked amongst the faded trees, cloaked in her usual dazzling white, singing a song not of Numenor, or Gondor, of Valinor, but of lonliness. She had seen through the palantir, Celebron had moved on. So she sought to heal her sorrows in the place where she had once been so happy and strong. She wondered if her fountain still stood, or looked more like a Roman ruin. The people of this age waste so much.

She had a great distaste for them. They had become dark, ambitious to a fault. Scrapping and fighting one another for dominance. It saddened her greately. But the call, the call to find her Mirrior was becoming stronger. She hadn't felt anything like it in many ages! It had been so very long! Falling that pull she found to her delight that her mirror was still intact, still beautiful, with the pitcher there for her use.

The last time she had used this mirrior she revealed her true self to Frodo. She sometimes wondered now what they did it all for. She drew the water with the picture and said the old famamiliar words 'apanta manaste' nira' over the surface of the pool. She remebered when the contents of it's waters where vital to the live of Middle Earth it self. But she did not control the mirrior this time. Her heart cried out with the uttering of the words, filled with a loniless and sadness that she didn't know if anyone could understand.

At first it showed her things that made her smile. The star of Earendial. After all the corruption of men, they could never taint the one who did so much for them to be here. She thought once again about why they had even bothered. But she didn't have to much time to think, for another image was coming. And it was curious!

She saw a man, scrying. He had blonde, wild hair, but could be called for one of her own people just on it's account. Here was the high cheek bones and the bright eyes of the eldar! But unlike she had ever seen! And handsome, there was NO denying that. He was both regal and wild, collected and bursting with energy, almost a walking contradiction it seemed .He had the high cheek bones and beautiful skin of the fae. By looking at him it would be difficult to determine his age. He was beautiful to look on, and it really had been so long.

Finishing her gazing on the gorgeous creatrue she began to sense was terribly sad. Lonely, desperately so. There had been a girl, a mortal it seemed, who had rejected him. Why was far beyound Galadriel's capacity of understanding. He was beautiul and she could sense a strong mind, and great power locked with in him. Behind him seemed a world not so unlike the golden wood she almost wept and wondered if she was seeing the past.

That was until her thoughts were interupted by his image, for he spoke! "Who are you, how are you able to see me?" She looked at the man first in shock! This had never happened before! Not with the mirrior. Only with the palantir. She quickly got over her shock. I am the Lady Galadriel, of the House of Finafarin, the last Noldor on Middle Earth and former lady of the Golden Wood, back when the world was still good and still believed in making this a better place.

"I did not think that any elves or fae remained. Who are you? How are you able to see and speak to me?"

Jarreth

Jarreth was brooding again. Something he hadn't been able to stop doing since Sarah finally made it clear once and for all she would not be his Queen. Granted it took marriage and children to get the point across. After all this time, it sill hurt. It had been fifty years, but it still hurt just as much as when she denied him the first time.

She had been his last chance. His last link to humanity. Long gone were the days when he could freely walk amongst maia, elves and men. Talking to the ancient trees had been a special delight. He had always been a loner. He had been born in an age when the last of the Eldar of the west where taking the ships to Valinor. He had seen the rest of that race go in sadness. Many of the Fae also departed with them, including most of his.

He could not complain. The offer had been given to him as well. But he couldn't bring himself to leave what he worked so hard to build, and he had responsibilities now. He was the watcher and granter of dreams. All he had were the other goblins. And the word goblin in his realm was not what that had once been either. Which was a blessing. His realm remained free of the turmoil of the wars that had ripped Middle-Earth to shreds.

He had become bitter. Turning wished away children into goblins if they did not complete a labyrith that even Mynos would have looked down on. That was until Sarah! She had been different! Imaginative, beautiful, and so young! She was so like the young fae, and his heart ached immediately. The girl left it on life support.

Something different about today though. His magic was calling to him. Calling in a way that it had not in many a long year. Familiar magic, ancient, not fae but no dissimilar he felt in the air. He scried, not knowing what he was looking for. He used words ancient and full of power as I did so. "Heledhan angol manaste!" He was surprised in what he saw.

It was the most beautiful creature he had EVER beheld! Her hair was golden, but as though it came of the great trees of the past he heard his older subjects speak of. It also was made up of what appeared to be more silver light than hair, it was long, and spilled out of the white velvet hood that kept the rest of it hidden.

Her eyes gave her away. Brighter than any mortals could be. They were dazzling blue, and they were filled with thousands of years of emptiness, saddness, and sorrow that ran deeply around her. There was still joy there but it looked like most of it had been sucked from her. And her magick was stong. Like his! She pulled her hood down and he could not help but gasp!

He spoke first. Asking, almost timidly, "Who are you? How are you able to see me? " As he gazed at her it came to him suddenly. My God! She was Noldor! Eons had past since he had seen her kind. But even they could not match what he saw now. She was studying his image simularly, she smiled at him though guarded and spoke, "I did not know any other of the elves or fae remained (such utter lonliness, it nearly crushed him)How are you able to see and speak to me?

"My magic differs slighty from yours, it seems we were called here and our magic mingled." he said. "Interesting" She then had a more impish look to her face, and said now, tell me, what is your name, my fine sir!" "I am Jareth, The Goblin King." "Titles are to long, you may call me Galadriel, and I shall call you Jareth. I wish to speak with you again, but my strength... it's not what it was. Spent to much trying to bring back what will never be again..." May I?

"I'm at your disposal, Galadriel."

Chapter 1

I shall continue whether anyone likes it or not because I love the idea of him and Galadriel and him and Eowyn. :) Please be gentle when you review. It's been a long time since I have seen Labyrinth. (See even the spelling is wrong!)