Prologue: What You Leave Behind

Disclaimer: This story is based on the fantasy movie "Labyrinth" and it's wondrous and amazing characters. They are owned by Jim Henson and no copyright infringement is intended. I promise to return everyone who has been borrowed when I am done with them.

This is my first fanfiction, and in fact the first time I am writing anything of significant length in English. Please be so kind and rate and review to give me some helpful pointers.

This story may make random references to music and literature, rest assured that these are no plot points and serve no purpose other than amusing the author of this fanfic.

It was the early evening when unexpected news reached the Queen Brunhild and Maridor Castle deep within the boundaries of the kingdom of trolls. The news was not only unexpected but also unbelievable. It was in fact so incredulous that Brunhild did not quite believe what her herald was telling her. At first she was quite convinced that she had forgotten to wash her ears in the morning, but after scratching the inside of her eardrum with her long fingernails and finding nothing, she knew this couldn't be the case. Perhaps her herald was intoxicated, or maybe she was loosing her mind. It would not have surprised her. Ruling trolls was a tiresome and maddening task. But no, she shrugged, her head was quite clear and her hearing was fine as well. She felt fine.

The Troll Queen, known to be a very grave person, was not the kind of person to loose her wits all of a sudden. Coming to terms with the fact that what she had learned was perhaps truth, Brunhild convinced herself that it would be best to go and see things with her own eyes. Heralds and messengers, while often useful, rarely replaced the need for experiencing things first hand. The Troll Queen slid from her throne and shouted various instructions at her tall, hairy and generally unintelligent subjects. With a look of disdain on her face she left the room and headed to her private chambers to pick up a number of things she only trusted herself to handle.

Half an hour later the sound of high heels on stone floor echoed through the long and narrow corridors of another castle. The Troll Queen had made use of a transportation spell to seek out an old acquaintance of sorts in his abode. Her earlier expression of disdain had become cemented on her old and wrinkled face; and who would blame her, the place she had just entered was far from enthralling. Not only was it dark and dirty, but the smell of excrement was lingering in the corridors. Brunhild lifted her hooped skirts and royal blue cloak to ensure she did not ruin them in this through and through disgusting place. She never understood how her acquaintance could tolerate the condition of the place or the creatures that inhabited it. Speaking of creatures, two little goblins guarded the entrance of each door Brunhild walked past. Some smiled at her, mindless little creatures that they were, while others pulled faces. The Troll Queen liked the second kind decidedly better, as she genuinely despised jolliness.

The fact that even Brunhild found the place off putting said quite a lot. The Troll Queen could by no means be called squeamish or finicky. Ruling over a bunch of unevolved brutes she could stomach a lot. It showed in her appearance for she was no fair and dainty creature, but was built like a man. She was tall and plumb, her facial features were porcine, and her hands were callused, for she had never been shy of manual labour when it was required. There was no royal grace about this woman, no majestic aura, no otherworldly splendour. Yet the Troll Queen commanded respect when she entered a place. Her posture was proud, her gaze stern and she exuded authority in a way few people did. It took quite a bit to put this strong woman at discomfort, yet this place succeeded.

It looked worse than Brunhild remembered it. It had always been dirty, her friend let the goblins keep livestock in the castle, but now it seemed to her as if the place was decaying. The very walls the castle was build of were crumbling. Sand and shattered glass was spilled all over the place, stones had fallen out of the walls and in some places she found holes in the ceiling. Just from looking around she knew the news had to be true. Her acquaintance certainly had been defeated, not to say utterly destroyed, if this was the state of his kingdom. Curiously she wondered who would be capable to bring such devastation to this place. The owner of this castle was no fool and his wit was sharp, yet apparently not sharp enough.

"Milady, you can't go this way" one of the goblins said, positioning itself in the Queen's way and bringing her out of her thoughts back to reality.

"Of course I can. And that is 'your majesty' for you, insolent little creature. Do you even know who I am?" Brunhild scoffed back at the goblin, which looked at her with eyes wide open. He obviously had no idea who she was. In fact, had the little creature known it would have probably been scared to meet the mighty Brunhild, Queen of Trolls. Not giving it a chance to respond to her, the she pushed herself past the guard and pressed down the heavy golden door handle.

Behind the door was a small room, which served the owner of the castle as a private study. Unlike the rest of the building it looked exactly the way the Troll Queen remembered it. The decay and destruction apparently hadn't spread as far as this place. The place was simplistic and functional, yet not without charm. The book shelves on one side of the room went all the way to the ceiling, holding many leather bound volumes. The other stone walls had been left blank, except for a rather elaborate mural depicting a labyrinth pattern in shades of gold and silver. In the far corner of the room, right underneath drawn velvet curtains a man was sitting behind a heavy oak desk, brooding over something.

He was not expecting her company. As a matter of fact he desired nothing more than being left alone and to his own devices. He was in quite a state and on top of that in a very bad mood. It was the first time somebody had defeated him at his own game. In his mind he insisted on naming the defeat a setback, but even he knew that he was lying to himself. He had been shattered, become undone from the inside and all that by the hands of an adolescent brat, which had more luck than brains. Another lie. It seemed lies where the only thing that kept him going.

Who could blame him, Jareth, the owner of this castle and King of Goblins was a man used to winning. He was smart and cunning and it was rare that anyone or anything presented a challenge to him. Those that dared to cross him, like the teenage girl, usually would regret ever doing so quickly thereafter. Nobody won against Jareth, especially not when it came to his labyrinth and when it involved his duties as the king of the goblins.

The girl angered him. He had only done what she had asked, and ungrateful as she was she had turned things around on him. It was her, who had wished away her baby brother to the King of Goblins. Cold and cruel she had summoned Jareth to rid her of the wailing child. But when he did as he had been asked to she had not been grateful, no, instead she had been upset and had blamed him for her own foolish actions. Showing a hint of compassion, gentility, Jareth had given her a chance to win back her brother. He had allowed her to run his labyrinth, given her thirteen hours to defeat it and by extension him. Giving her that chance apparently had not been enough. After defeating the labyrinth, she had set out to utterly destroy him by speaking words laced with ancient and powerful magic. Words whose true power the girl could impossibly comprehend. It had been his undoing, quite literally. Never, he swore to himself, would he allow compassion to influence his decisions again. It had brought him nothing but pain and grief. Now because of a moment's weakness his kingdom was suffering the consequences. The mortal girl on the other hand was celebrating his defeat as if it was something to be proud of. So very little did she know.

He had been sitting pondering all of this for hours, trying to analyse how it was possible that a mere mortal girl could wield the power to defeat him, wondering where she could have learned the words that had unravelled his magic and freed her from his grasp. His mind however remained blank and did not grant him the luxury of answers.

Anger flared up in him when he heard noise outside his door. Had he not instructed the guards to keep quite and not to disturb him? He got even angrier when he saw the door handle moving. Lazily he reached for his riding crop, determined to make sure his idiot guard would not fail to remember his orders another time. However, the person that came through the door was not a goblin, but Queen Brunhild. He glared at her unsure how to react to her presence. Sure, part of him wanted to zap her, but something inside his head told him that perhaps it was not the best idea to make an enemy of the Troll Queen when things were going abysmal for him anyway.

Brunhild's eyes immediately were fixed on Jareth. She could not recall seeing him like that before. Dressed in shades of cream and white, his gowns made from light fabric and bleached feathers, he reminded her of an owl more so than a man. A battered owl perhaps would have described it best. He certainly didn't look like the regal and handsome Jareth of her memory. His long blond hair looked brittle and had lost his shine. His face was gaunt; his mismatched eyes looked dull and lifeless.

"So it is true then." She flatly stated, figuring the other would be intelligent enough to catch her drift.

He did not respond directly though, merely confirmed her words by the fact that he was not making the effort to try and contradict her. Instead he stared at the wall, his expression empty, making a conscious effort to avoid the gaze of the Troll Queen.

"How?" she demanded to know, without compassion or understanding for her acquaintance.

"If I knew, it wouldn't have happened. I thought even you were smart enough to figure that out, Brunhild" he spat back at her annoyed by such a stupid question. "Though I have an idea. A theory if you want."

She eyed him critically. He had been defeated and he did not know how? That certainly was most unusual for Jareth. He liked to be in charge, liked to be on top of things. Wasn't it normally him who was cold and analytical, dissected everything word by word and understood what was going on in all intricate detail? Someone obviously had managed to suspend that analytical mind of his for a while. Brunhild was most interesting to hear what the other's theory entailed. "Humor me" she cooed softly, now suddenly making an attempt to play nice.

He sighed. For a moment war was raging inside him. Brunhild was a friend of sorts, at least an acquaintance, perhaps the only one he could discuss it with. As much as he disliked the Troll Queen, and as certain as he was that she had only come to bask in his misery, he had to admit that she was an intelligent woman. A highly intelligent woman. If anyone was to help him figure out why he had been defeated, well she made one hell of a more likely candidate than any of his drooling goblins. Not that the Goblin King needed anybody's help.

"Sit down then" he said grudgingly indicating to a chair on the opposite side of his desk. He did not bother to get up for her, or to draw out her chair, no their strange relationship wasn't about such niceties. "I guess I will have to recount to you what happened first so you can form your own opinion. It's quite a story."

It took Jareth the better part of half an hour to recount the events that had occurred from the moment a human girl by the name of Sarah had wished away her little brother to his tragic defeat. Brunhild listened intently. Her face was stern not giving away any of her emotion. She knew that the Goblin King would be grateful for that. He would neither want her sympathy nor pity. If anything he would care for her sound judgment, and that she was prepared to give.

"I believe part of her success was that she made friends within the labyrinth so quickly. I had never really anticipated that this would happen. She made friends with the beast, Brunhild! A beast that is ugly and hairy and commands rocks. She should have been scared if it. The ones to run the labyrinth before her were scared." Jareth tried hard to sound convincing, but just something about his tone was perhaps too convincing. Brunhild narrowed her eyes, and then shook her head. She didn't buy it. That wasn't what had defeated the mighty Goblin King. What good could the friendship of a beast do against the king's magical power? None at all.

"And that's it? Are you trying to tell me that all it takes to defeat you is the friendship of a hairy beast? Had I only known that earlier I might have looked into extending the borders of the troll kingdom.!" There was distinct mockery in her voice now. Her steel grey eyes sought his unevenly coloured ones. Her gaze was relentless, leaving the Goblin King shifting in his seat uncomfortably. He knew fine that Brunhild was right, but he had no desire to admit it.

"There is also that she seemed prepared. Unlike most that call upon me she knew who I was and understood the mechanics of the game. And then she had such determination, such strength of will. Quite impressive, if you ask me. I have never seen anything like it before. She was so set in her ways I doubt anything could have stopped her from claiming back her little brother. I tried all I could and nothing, nothing would deter her. I offered her all she could ever dream of on a platter and she refused me." His tone was one of hatred and contempt, though underlying it Brunhild could clearly notice that Jareth held a certain level of fascination when it came to the girl. She found this most peculiar, because normally no mortal held Jareth's attention for long. He was normally tired of the world and it's creatures, was bored with everything. But the girl had given him a challenge and he had risen to the occasion certain he would win. Yet here he was crushed and defeated. A cruel smile played around the lips of the Troll Queen as she realised and understood what had happened.

"Judging from your poor analysis, Jareth, I reckon she'd beat you again any day." Brunhild stated provocatively, wondering if her bold statement would push the other in the right direction.

"How dare you talk to me like that!" he replied, his voice vicious and icy. "How dare you say such a thing Brunhild. You know nothing. You understand nothing." He quite literally spat the last words into her face and the Troll Queen leaned backwards in her chair trying to evade him.

"Would you like to make it a bet Jareth? How about a little wager.? I bet by the bloodstones of the Troll Kingdom that she will beat you again if you two were to have a rematch. She'd walk right over you before you even know it." After that she broke into laughter, so high pitched and hysterical that cool shivers ran down the Goblin King's spine. His facial expression hardened again into one of anger and disdain. Whatever absurd thought had led him to belief that Brunhild could be of any help in this. She clearly was only here for her own personal pleasure, making it a sport to mock him. Angered he conjured a crystal, seemingly out of thin air, and prepared to hex her to the Bog of Eternal Stench.

He'd show that arrogant woman! Who exactly did she think she was to threat him like that? Pah. He could beat Sarah if he put his mind to it. He could beat her easy. Any day. Without even trying.

Just as he was about to make some nasty remark and work his spell when her laughter ebbed away. She was well aware of what he was trying to do. "Take it the bet is on, Jareth" she said before raising from her chair and transporting herself back to the safety of Maridor Castle.

Raging, the Goblin King smashed his crystal against the cold stone wall. Upon hearing the shards fall to the ground he experienced a brief moment of release and satisfaction. It however didn't last long.