For the official Author's Note, please see the end of the chapter.
Dedicated to Jetredgirl. Burn bright.
In November of 2019 Jetredgirl, reached out to me with the following message:
I just wanted you to know I thought your stories were beautiful. They will be missed. I know you're writing original fiction now (which is awesome!) and I wish you every success!
We started talking, we friended on Facebook, and I joined up with the Labyrinth Fanfiction Lovers (LFFL) group. Thus started my reemergence into the world of Labyrinth fic and fandom.
The story that follows used to be called The Return, and according to her it was one of her favorite re-reads which, considering how much of this world she consumed, I considered a great compliment.
I finished the rework of this story two days before we found out that she passed away. I had been re-writing it as a sort of gift to her, I just never anticipated it would be one that she'd never get the chance to read.
I never met her in person, but I loved her very much. She was one of the kindest people I ever had the pleasure of knowing.
This story is, humbly, dedicated to her memory. Now and always.
Chapter One
Something like thunder rent the air, and hard on its heels, a low tremor flowed through the stone floor of the castle beyond the goblin city. The king did not move, sprawled as he was across his throne, lounging more like with his gaze intent on the depths of a perfect crystal sphere. His posture was a ruse, for within, he roiled with tension as he watched events unfold. He had told his citizens to shelter and not engage, but the Kin did no end of damage to the city.
A crash drew his attention as a goblin appeared before him, yellow eyes bulging in panic as it jabbered. "Sire! The enemy has breached the castle!"
Jareth narrowed his mismatched eyes and rose to his feet. "I know. I can feel them."
"What do we do? There's so many!"
The Goblin King rolled the crystal along one slim, gloved hand before grasping it yet again. "I believe it is time I enter the fray."
The little goblin soldier trembled as it bowed low, its metal armor clanking. "It may not be enough. There are thousands, sire, and Kozack—"
"Let me handle Kozack," Jareth snarled. "And mind your place." He should not have lashed out at the pathetic creature, but his temper was short. This was his land. His.
He cloaked himself in his battle armor and reached for the Labyrinth, finding its presence reassuring despite the turmoil of the civil war raging within its walls. Crystal held loose in one hand, he strode past the goblin toward the direction of the main melee.
There was no time to notice the shift, the faint waft of unfamiliar magic before the sword plunged through his back.
It was like ice. So cold it burned.
Jareth struggled to take a breath, blood bubbling between his lips, the taste of salt hot in his mouth. The crystal fell from numb fingers as the blade withdrew, and his attacker rounded into view, the warrior goblin—one of the Kin—grinning. The Goblin King blinked, thoughts turning both sluggish and somehow sharp-edged. "You."
Kozack grinned with savage intensity and reached out, ripping the gold and silver medallion from his neck with enough force Jareth crashed to his knees. "Me," he confirmed. "Long live the king."
The leader of the rebellion, of the Kin, lifted his sword, the muscles in his forearm bunching as he began the slash which would remove Jareth's head from his body.
On reflex born from the strongest self-preservation he possessed, Jareth reached for his sanctuary, his hidden place. Yet the sudden loss of his medallion, coupled with his injuries, made him miss his mark. In a blink, before the downward stroke of the sword, he was gone from the throne room, his body and mind scattered into the place between the worlds.
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There was no sense of up or down. Light, dark. The passage of time did not exist. There was nothing but void, as far and as wide as the entirety of all the worlds that ever were or ever would be.
Betrayal. Loss.
He held onto these like a lifeline, anchoring enough of his conscious thoughts together, so he did not scatter into oblivion. He drifted, unaware of anything save the pain.
He was not sure how long it had been when the thought returned to him. After all, it was never far, even in this place where such things should hold no bearing. Something which had haunted his mind and his dreams for thirteen long years.
A name. A face.
Sarah.
Author's Note:
Once upon a time this was titled The Return. I originally published this in late 2015 to early 2016. I pulled it about two years ago due to the fact that some concepts I developed within I was using in my original fiction.
I have since removed or reworked many parts where the old worldbuilding overlapped with my original fiction. At its core, this is the same story I published six years ago. We've updated and upgraded it, reworked and reshaped some of it, but it is still very much the original piece.
I apologize to those of you who read and enjoyed the original story and were disappointed at its removal. I promise not to do that again. I'm back in the Labyrinth fandom and here to stay.
Some overlap will remain between this story and my original fiction. It can't be helped.
This is how I originally envisioned the 'sequel' to The Labyrinth. This story still has a very special place in my heart. As much as I enjoy my other Labyrinth projects, this was the original plot bunny.
I hope you enjoy. I won't be popping in too often or too long in these author notes. The story has already been fully written and edited, and is currently in Beta, but we received the green light to post chapter one. Consider this a teaser. More will be forthcoming.
That said, please leave a contribution in the little box.
Xoxo,
CrimsonSympathy