Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or the characters, though I do own the plot of this particular story and interpretation of a certain Goblin King.
She was an impetuous child blossoming with the promise of future beauty. The promise lay in the lilt of her mouth and in the bright of her eyes. The Goblin King had seen many such children. And yet, this child fascinated him as no other had before her.
Perusing intently, the Goblin King peered keenly in his glass ball into his talon-ended hands.
Within it, the girl-child gloried in her victory over the villainous Goblin King of the Labyrinth. How brazenly arrogant she was. How disgustingly naïve.
As though a mere mortal child could unravel the mysteries of his Labyrinth.
But perhaps it was her delicious naïveté that so enraptured him. Fae were so cold, so calculating, and his little Sarah, by contrast, she burst with heady human vitality. Her volatile temper was rich with unkempt emotion. More likely, Sarah was only fascinating because of the monotony of the unceasing days of petty goblin magic and of predictable goblin antics. It had been so many millennia since the Goblin King could venture to the Aboveground, and runners were so few and far in between…
Perhaps his little Sarah would be a suitable distraction, if only for a while.
Of course, he would have to let the little girl-child become complacent with the belief that she was safe from him. Let the girl believe the story. His game would not be entertaining otherwise.
You have no power over me.
Who had ever believed such a ridiculous idea? Him, the Goblin King, to have no power over an insignificant child? Ludicrous. He was the king of the mortal realm, ruler of both mortals' desires and men's worst nightmares. He was the Goblin King, ensnarer of the common mortal, ruler of the sun and the wind and rain and the snow.
To have no power over her indeed.
On whim, the Goblin King gazed once again into his glass ball, and the scene had changed. The festivities were over. His little Sarah lay asleep in her bed, face so delectably calm. He would relish in her sudden quaking fear, her growing awareness of him as time went onwards.
Her face was smooth and bathed in the light of the lamp on her bedside, and within the realms of her dreams, the Goblin King studied her twirling figure on a stage flooded with lurid applause.
Oh, to have the simple dreams of children, the Goblin King thought, caressing the curve of the glass that went along his Sarah's cheek.
His eyes darkened, and his countenance shone, alight with the fiery burning of dark magic.
In his little Sarah's room, the light went out suddenly, and her window exploded into millions of fractals of glass. The wind moaned, and the moon was ghastly pale. The shadows of her room twisted and snarled together, and the shadows grew eyes that glowed red in the dark. The shadow's ghosted over his little Sarah' s skin, and inside her dream, applause turned to malicious critique and to shunning.
Bolder, his shadows pulled at the strands of his Sarah's dark ebony hair, and they whispered vicious things within the silence of the night.
Little Sarah, whispered the shadows, little Sarah, no dream of yours shall ever be true.
His Sarah's heart quivered. Its melody mounted into a staccato crescendo. Her eyes jolted open. Her hand clutched against her chest.
"Sarah," the Goblin King murmured against the glass, and his voice boomed within her mind. Her heart's pounding seared the Goblin King's croon into her crawling skin. "Sarah mine, remember your Goblin King now. Remember, for I shall never allow you to forget."
Original Posting Date: June 28, 2016
Prompt: N/A
Word Count: 603
Note: This is just a short little one-shot, because I was in the mood to write something darker than the usual and in the mood to try to write a Labyrinth fan-fiction. The idea seemed intriguing enough, and Jareth is so cunning and cold, a very interesting character and point of view to write. However, let it be known: I have never actually seen the Labyrinth.