Jareth sat curled in his throne

I don't own any of the Labyrinth stuff (big surprise there), but Damien is mine *evil laugh*.

Jareth sat curled in his throne. He hadn't heard from Sarah in the days since that terrible scream. When he was able to sleep he had nightmares about what could be happening to her and would waken in an icy sweat. He was sick with worry and lack of sleep. He hadn't eaten since she had turned up missing. Hoggle, Diddymus, and Ludo had offered their help and were out searching the Labyrinth. His hair was unkempt and his clothes were wrinkled due to his forgetfulness to change them. His head hurt and his eyes burned. His crystals were useless, he just couldn't find her. He found himself curled up next to her pillow at night, breathing in her faded scent and dampening the pillow with his tears. Gods he felt as if he was going insane.

Opening her eyes, she found herself in a small, simple bedroom. Where was she? She wondered. Thinking a little deeper she frowned. How long had she been here? Digging deep enough so it hurt, she grimaced as two even more important questions surfaced. Why was she here, and who was she?

Sitting up, she moaned as her head throbbed and the light seemed to pierce her skull. Her brief moment of wondering if she was hung over was replaced by wondering what being hung over was. She glanced down and stared for some moments at the silver band on her left ring finger. She remembered what that meant, she was married.

Looking back at the bed, she saw only one person could fit in it. She wondered if she was having marital problems, then shrugged. If she couldn't remember her own name she sure wasn't going to remember any marital problems.

She closed her eyes and sighed, trying to picture her husband. She got a glimpse of a puff of platinum blonde hair, but concluded it was too fluffy for any person to have. Maybe she had a fluffy blonde dog. A dog she remembered was a four footed fluffy creature that yapped.

The door opened, causing her to jump. A pale and thin man walked in, handsome in an otherworldly way. His ebony hair was short and spiked and his eyes were a pale sickly green.

"Sarah, oh thank goodness you're awake," the man said, his voice oozing concern and charm that didn't quite seem real.

Glancing behind her and seeing nothing, she guessed her name was Sarah.

"I was so worried about you. Are you all right?" the man asked, sitting beside her and taking her hand.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember anything," Sarah murmured, looking at the man and wondering who he was.

"Well, you were hurt badly, so I can see why you might not remember anything. I just hope that your memory will return in time," the man said.

"Me too, uh…who are you?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry darling, I completely forgot that you completely forgot. I'm Damien, your husband," the man said, touching her cheek lightly.

It took all Sarah's willpower not to flinch, something felt wrong about his touch, but she couldn't place it.

With gentle fingers, Damien drew Sarah's hair away from her forehead and grimaced at the red mark that scarred her temple.

"What? What is it?"

"You can't remember anything because you were beaten by a man who hates me and wanted to hurt me through you. Well, he succeeded, and now you have no memory, poor dear."

"What was his name?" Sarah asked, trying to remember anything.

"Jareth, the ruler of a different kingdom."

"You rule a kingdom?" Sarah asked in surprise. If he was a king, that would make her a queen, wow.

Damien laughed quietly and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Yes, I rule the Lost Labyrinth."

Labyrinth, Sarah recognized the word, but she couldn't say from where. She guessed she recognized it because it was her husband's kingdom.

"Where's a mirror, I can't even seem to remember what I look like," Sarah murmured.

Damien pointed to the wall and Sarah looked over to see a mirror she hadn't remembered seeing.

Slowly standing she walked over and looked at her reflection. Long dark hair fell around a pale face and a large red mark covered her left temple down to her jaw. There was something strange about her eyes though, they appeared as if they had a slight grey tinge to them, the green of the irises and even the whites of the eyes.

"What is wrong with my eyes?" Sarah asked as she sat back down, slightly dizzy.

"Why, nothing. It must be the glass the mirror is made of. You should probably rest now. I'll come back and check on you later, all right?" Damien asked, standing and pulling the covers over her as she lay back down.

Sarah nodded slowly, already falling back asleep.

Jareth dragged himself out of his much needed bath, the little smiling rubber ducky offering no comfort. His mind felt numb. He couldn't figure out, for the life of himself, where his wife had gone. There were no clues. There were no ransom notes. Only that terrible scream that had plagued his dream. Perhaps if he had left that goblin's home sooner he would have been able to save her, or follow her. But he was too slow so he had lost her. Fate was co cruel.

He pulled on a pair of trousers while his vision blurred with tears again. He hugged her pillow to his chest as tears crept down his face. His eyes hurt constantly now and his head pounded due to all his crying, but he couldn't help it. His heart hurt so badly that some days he hadn't gotten out of bed. He closed his eyes and, to help himself sleep, forced the memory of the ballroom dance into his mind. If only he could use the mask of the Goblin King, he might be able to push all feeling aside, but he had stopped using that mask. Now he struggled to breathe through all the tears, products of his pain.

Damien smiled as he walked down the hallway to his own bedchambers. Once inside, he closed his eyes and his form slowly began to shift, almost melt. In a minute, he was in his true form, the daemon that had captured Sarah and broken her mind.

He had hoped she wouldn't notice her eyes, but it would be easy to convince her that the grey meant nothing. Lasting daemon magik always left a taint on the person, and after changing her memories, she had grey tinged eyes.

Flexing his wings, Damien sat on a bench and overlooked the Labyrinth he commanded, much more dangerous than the Labyrinth his dear brother ruled over.

Jareth, the name was filled with hatred in Damien's mind. He doubted his brother still remembered him, or even knew the truth of what had happened.

When the Old King had returned Damien, the king had stayed, sensing that Damien had an aptitude for magik. He had, and learned rapidly, far exceeding the king's hope. The king had created magik for them both to be resurrected in case any of the Puritans discovered that they practiced the dark arts.

His own mother had turned him in, watching as he created objects out of thin air. He and the king had been hung as warlocks and Damien could just feel the king's spell begin to work as his soul worked his way free of his dead body, when something went wrong.

A burst of powerful magik flew through all the realms and the old king's soul had been shattered, while Damien had been trapped in daemon form and forced to rule in the Dark Realm.

With a flex of his claws, Damien smiled grimly as green flame sprung from his fingertips. No more crystals for him, that was fae magik, daemon magik was fire. He would make Jareth pay for the death of his friend and mentor, as well as causing him to be trapped in this hideous form for eternity. Oh yes, Jareth would pay.