Author's Note: Obviously, I do not own Labyrinth, or any characters
connected. If I did, Sarah would have forsaken the child, and lived a
fairy tale with Jareth, the Goblin King. Don't get me wrong. Jim Henson
was brilliant, but I wanted to see them kiss once. For, Jareth did risk
nearly everything for her. . .
A one-shot. Set five years after Sarah William ran the Labyrinth. Mithrandir (technically) belongs to JRR Tolkien, but the character is only mentioned briefly. I own Serena.
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Jareth paced the floor of the throne room. He still wore his formal gear: the tight black leggings, the black poet shirt, the long black gloves, and the silver cape. His white-blonde hair fluttered about his shoulders. Two girls currently traveled the Labyrinth, and he had his duty, his promise to the Council of the Old, to verify the two girls never met.
Furthermore, he needed to live separately to both the girl's image of him. He was exhausted from it. But he was more exhausted from the memories. One girl had him play the villain, while the other girl had him play the charming, handsome stranger. Together, the double image combined from the two different girls translated to the image Sarah Williams had had him play five years ago.
His beautiful, stubborn, fire-tempered Sarah Williams. His Sarah Williams who had never given him the time of day. His Sarah Williams who had died in a car crash two years ago.
He paused in his pace, pausing in the doorway. The room contained no goblins. In his distress, he had banished them to another area of the castle. Only the elfin girl remained.
"Serena, why are you still here?" he demanded.
"You wouldn't have me leave you alone in this state, would you?" she grinned. She was a pretty girl, with long apricot brown hair to her waist, and deep brown eyes. Her skin complexion was almost olive, and her ears just barely curved into the slight point. She wore a gown of amber, specifically created to highlight the natural apricot highlights of her hair. On her mouth, she wore a teasing grin.
"You would probably shirk your duties, and we both know where that would get you."
Jareth frowned, and he resumed his pacing. He had met Serena almost three hundred years before, when she had arrived in his lands, on behalf of her father to negotiate a treaty between her people and his. Her brother had accompanied her. The Elfin King had thought a young girl would appeal to the Goblin King's desires, and knew his daughter to be intelligent, and courageous enough to resists his lewd outreaches. But what the Elfin King had not planned on was for a hesitant friendship to strike between the two.
He had never forbidden Serena to visit the Goblin Castle in the center of the world's Labyrinth, but he did let his daughter know he did not approve. She ignored him.
"Besides," she added, "I was bored, and your subjects are ever so much more amusing than mine."
"Do you see any of those subjects here now?" he hissed. He paused again in his pacing, and his eyes flashed, but he noticed that Serena simply brushed off the gesture, allowing it to roll of her back like water. She shrugged, and cast him a lopsided grin. He narrowed his eyes further. "Do you see anyone here besides you? Judging from the knowledge I did ban those subjects, don't you think I would have banned you as well, Serena?"
"Do you truly think you can ban me, Jareth?" she grinned broader. "I hold more power of you than any one of those pitiful Earthen girls combined. She may have held your hearth, Jareth, but I hold political claim to your lands."
"Your father holds that power."
"Same difference. Those lands will be mine one day."
Jareth seethed, and paused again in the doorway, his back turned to Serena. He was flushed from the anger. Rarely, did he let his emotions get to him; he made effort to keep his impeccable, his emotionless, ageless mask on. But even he felt something sometimes.
Still silently, he clenched his fists, to then unclench them again, repeating the gesture five more times. He swallowed his breath, then breathed it out. From somewhere within the castle, he could hear the familiar sound of female frustration, of a girl up against his ever- changing maze. He felt the mask slip back into place, and he allowed himself a small grin of satisfaction. He could almost taste the girl's defeat, taste his own victory. . .
. . . and he felt no satisfaction in that.
Still without turning, he found his voice, warning in low, dangerous tone, "I must tend to my duties, Serena. When I return, I want you gone."
And, he swept himself from the castle.
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But when he returned two Earth hours later, Serena still remained, lounging in his throne, sipping at a cup of tea. She regarded him with a neutral expression. He did not find it in him to fight her more, and in that quick exchange, she knew it, and she nodded.
"Too much to expect, I suppose," he greeted loftily.
"Always," she agreed. "There's more tea, if you wanted," she added, waving her hand in a distracted motion, calling for another cup to appear. Sighing, Jareth took the cup in his hands, and he poured himself the tea. He sipped the hot liquid slowly. "I think," Serena added, "that she must have lost."
"Yes, she did. But most do."
"Except for her?"
"Yes, except for her."
In the five years since Sarah Williams had beat the Labyrinth, and in the process won the Goblin King's heart, Serena had rarely heard Jareth speak of her. She had first heard the story from the Council, when she had been witness to Jareth's trial. He had been found innocent off all crimes he had been charged of (treachery to the kingdoms, treasonous thought, aiding human life, and attempted memory-killing), and he had settled into everyday mundane life again, ignoring the girl he loved. He had to. He may have been found innocent, but he had still been punished.
But he also chose to ignore her. For he knew, if he watched her after her cruel rejection, he would surely go mad.
On the first anniversary of the Trial's completion, in desperate need of a listener, he had told Serena the story, bounding her to agree she would never mention it again.
But sometimes, she thought Jareth needed to be reminded.
"She never hated you, Jareth," she spoke again.
Jareth cast her a disdained look. He sat on the small steps leading to the throne dais, knowing it would be a futile attempt to get Serena to move. "How would you know?" he whispered.
"I've watched her," she shrugged. "She captured your heart, Jareth. I wanted to know more about her."
"What did you learn?" He asked, but only after several moments passed. He did not dare to look at Serena as he spoke.
But Serena had learned from the best, and she kept her expression to be passive, to be unresponsive, to be emotionless. Only her voice was slightly strained, but she doubted Jareth noticed. "She never hated you."
"You said already."
"Yes, I know," Serena frowned, and she poured herself more tea. "She cared for you, Jareth. She cared about you."
"So, why did she never tell me?"
"How do you know she didn't?" Jareth cast her a second disdained look.
"To be so ageless," she sighed, allowing a small hint of amusement to creep into her voice, but still her facial mask remained. "Did they teach you nothing in your schooling?"
"Please, enlighten me, Serena."
"Don't make fun," she chided. With another wave of her hand, she shoved the empty teapot and the cups back into the magic from which they had come. (She smiled slightly at Jareth's cries of, "I was still drinking that!"). "Revenge is so very sweet," she added dryly, quickly sobering her words. "The human heart is a dangerous ground to tread, and even more dangerous to conquer."
"You would know this how, my dear?"
"My dear dear Jareth," she laughed. "Surely you did not think I showed support in empty promise. I too had my fun with a human once. Male, of course. A young man named Adam Park. Nearly married him. But you asked after your beloved Sarah. . ."
Jareth made a low sound deep in his throat, sounding much like a growl, and again, Serena merely laughed. "I was saying, Jareth. . . the human heart is dangerous. Sarah Williams felt that while she did feel something for you, you and her could never be together."
"Oh?"
"We are only fairy tales in their world." Serena paused briefly, her voice dropping to a whisper. "She convinced herself, as much as she did care for you, that she still only loved a fairy tale. A handsome fairy tale, but a fairy tale all the same."
"But the boy? He was so young. . . When she," he swallowed, "died?"
"Toby? He'll grow up remembering only her photograph. He certainly will not remember you or the castle. He was less than one human year. Young even by our standards," she paused to frown, "especially by our standards." She paused again, this time to shake her head. "It is amusing, though. That day she died, although she had just left a party, she was sober. She crashed her car into that tree because she had seen a white owl. A PURE white barn owl."
"You mean?" Jareth turned to her, wide-eyed, simply not caring if his mask had slipped.
"Yes. She thought it was you." She paused. "Was it?"
"No," he whispered. Serena nodded. Only after several moments, did Jareth add, "I would like the boy to know more. Seems a shame there would be no one to carry Sarah's legacy, her stories. Even if she did think them to be fairy tales."
A smile crossed Serena's face. A memory stirred. Of a Goblin King she knew long before Sarah Williams; of a Goblin King who would have risked his own life to ensure the preservation of his labyrinth, of his legacy. She smiled broader, the expression extending to her voice. "I will send word to Mithrandir."
Jareth nodded. His mask slid back into place. He frowned, and he stood to resume his pacing. "It grows late, and you have overstayed your welcome, Serena. Give regards to your father."
"Of course," she laughed. "Give mine to Hogwarts."
"Hoggle," he corrected, and he frowned deeper. He remembered when Sarah Williams had corrected him. She too had failed, even if only at first. "Perhaps I will send word to him too. And, to Ludo, and Sir Didymus."
"You are the Goblin King." Serena paused in her movement to stand, her hand poised to initiate the transport spell. "You will be okay?"
For several moments, Jareth did not respond, but when he did, she could hear the ghost of a smile in his words. "I have to be."
A one-shot. Set five years after Sarah William ran the Labyrinth. Mithrandir (technically) belongs to JRR Tolkien, but the character is only mentioned briefly. I own Serena.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----
Jareth paced the floor of the throne room. He still wore his formal gear: the tight black leggings, the black poet shirt, the long black gloves, and the silver cape. His white-blonde hair fluttered about his shoulders. Two girls currently traveled the Labyrinth, and he had his duty, his promise to the Council of the Old, to verify the two girls never met.
Furthermore, he needed to live separately to both the girl's image of him. He was exhausted from it. But he was more exhausted from the memories. One girl had him play the villain, while the other girl had him play the charming, handsome stranger. Together, the double image combined from the two different girls translated to the image Sarah Williams had had him play five years ago.
His beautiful, stubborn, fire-tempered Sarah Williams. His Sarah Williams who had never given him the time of day. His Sarah Williams who had died in a car crash two years ago.
He paused in his pace, pausing in the doorway. The room contained no goblins. In his distress, he had banished them to another area of the castle. Only the elfin girl remained.
"Serena, why are you still here?" he demanded.
"You wouldn't have me leave you alone in this state, would you?" she grinned. She was a pretty girl, with long apricot brown hair to her waist, and deep brown eyes. Her skin complexion was almost olive, and her ears just barely curved into the slight point. She wore a gown of amber, specifically created to highlight the natural apricot highlights of her hair. On her mouth, she wore a teasing grin.
"You would probably shirk your duties, and we both know where that would get you."
Jareth frowned, and he resumed his pacing. He had met Serena almost three hundred years before, when she had arrived in his lands, on behalf of her father to negotiate a treaty between her people and his. Her brother had accompanied her. The Elfin King had thought a young girl would appeal to the Goblin King's desires, and knew his daughter to be intelligent, and courageous enough to resists his lewd outreaches. But what the Elfin King had not planned on was for a hesitant friendship to strike between the two.
He had never forbidden Serena to visit the Goblin Castle in the center of the world's Labyrinth, but he did let his daughter know he did not approve. She ignored him.
"Besides," she added, "I was bored, and your subjects are ever so much more amusing than mine."
"Do you see any of those subjects here now?" he hissed. He paused again in his pacing, and his eyes flashed, but he noticed that Serena simply brushed off the gesture, allowing it to roll of her back like water. She shrugged, and cast him a lopsided grin. He narrowed his eyes further. "Do you see anyone here besides you? Judging from the knowledge I did ban those subjects, don't you think I would have banned you as well, Serena?"
"Do you truly think you can ban me, Jareth?" she grinned broader. "I hold more power of you than any one of those pitiful Earthen girls combined. She may have held your hearth, Jareth, but I hold political claim to your lands."
"Your father holds that power."
"Same difference. Those lands will be mine one day."
Jareth seethed, and paused again in the doorway, his back turned to Serena. He was flushed from the anger. Rarely, did he let his emotions get to him; he made effort to keep his impeccable, his emotionless, ageless mask on. But even he felt something sometimes.
Still silently, he clenched his fists, to then unclench them again, repeating the gesture five more times. He swallowed his breath, then breathed it out. From somewhere within the castle, he could hear the familiar sound of female frustration, of a girl up against his ever- changing maze. He felt the mask slip back into place, and he allowed himself a small grin of satisfaction. He could almost taste the girl's defeat, taste his own victory. . .
. . . and he felt no satisfaction in that.
Still without turning, he found his voice, warning in low, dangerous tone, "I must tend to my duties, Serena. When I return, I want you gone."
And, he swept himself from the castle.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
But when he returned two Earth hours later, Serena still remained, lounging in his throne, sipping at a cup of tea. She regarded him with a neutral expression. He did not find it in him to fight her more, and in that quick exchange, she knew it, and she nodded.
"Too much to expect, I suppose," he greeted loftily.
"Always," she agreed. "There's more tea, if you wanted," she added, waving her hand in a distracted motion, calling for another cup to appear. Sighing, Jareth took the cup in his hands, and he poured himself the tea. He sipped the hot liquid slowly. "I think," Serena added, "that she must have lost."
"Yes, she did. But most do."
"Except for her?"
"Yes, except for her."
In the five years since Sarah Williams had beat the Labyrinth, and in the process won the Goblin King's heart, Serena had rarely heard Jareth speak of her. She had first heard the story from the Council, when she had been witness to Jareth's trial. He had been found innocent off all crimes he had been charged of (treachery to the kingdoms, treasonous thought, aiding human life, and attempted memory-killing), and he had settled into everyday mundane life again, ignoring the girl he loved. He had to. He may have been found innocent, but he had still been punished.
But he also chose to ignore her. For he knew, if he watched her after her cruel rejection, he would surely go mad.
On the first anniversary of the Trial's completion, in desperate need of a listener, he had told Serena the story, bounding her to agree she would never mention it again.
But sometimes, she thought Jareth needed to be reminded.
"She never hated you, Jareth," she spoke again.
Jareth cast her a disdained look. He sat on the small steps leading to the throne dais, knowing it would be a futile attempt to get Serena to move. "How would you know?" he whispered.
"I've watched her," she shrugged. "She captured your heart, Jareth. I wanted to know more about her."
"What did you learn?" He asked, but only after several moments passed. He did not dare to look at Serena as he spoke.
But Serena had learned from the best, and she kept her expression to be passive, to be unresponsive, to be emotionless. Only her voice was slightly strained, but she doubted Jareth noticed. "She never hated you."
"You said already."
"Yes, I know," Serena frowned, and she poured herself more tea. "She cared for you, Jareth. She cared about you."
"So, why did she never tell me?"
"How do you know she didn't?" Jareth cast her a second disdained look.
"To be so ageless," she sighed, allowing a small hint of amusement to creep into her voice, but still her facial mask remained. "Did they teach you nothing in your schooling?"
"Please, enlighten me, Serena."
"Don't make fun," she chided. With another wave of her hand, she shoved the empty teapot and the cups back into the magic from which they had come. (She smiled slightly at Jareth's cries of, "I was still drinking that!"). "Revenge is so very sweet," she added dryly, quickly sobering her words. "The human heart is a dangerous ground to tread, and even more dangerous to conquer."
"You would know this how, my dear?"
"My dear dear Jareth," she laughed. "Surely you did not think I showed support in empty promise. I too had my fun with a human once. Male, of course. A young man named Adam Park. Nearly married him. But you asked after your beloved Sarah. . ."
Jareth made a low sound deep in his throat, sounding much like a growl, and again, Serena merely laughed. "I was saying, Jareth. . . the human heart is dangerous. Sarah Williams felt that while she did feel something for you, you and her could never be together."
"Oh?"
"We are only fairy tales in their world." Serena paused briefly, her voice dropping to a whisper. "She convinced herself, as much as she did care for you, that she still only loved a fairy tale. A handsome fairy tale, but a fairy tale all the same."
"But the boy? He was so young. . . When she," he swallowed, "died?"
"Toby? He'll grow up remembering only her photograph. He certainly will not remember you or the castle. He was less than one human year. Young even by our standards," she paused to frown, "especially by our standards." She paused again, this time to shake her head. "It is amusing, though. That day she died, although she had just left a party, she was sober. She crashed her car into that tree because she had seen a white owl. A PURE white barn owl."
"You mean?" Jareth turned to her, wide-eyed, simply not caring if his mask had slipped.
"Yes. She thought it was you." She paused. "Was it?"
"No," he whispered. Serena nodded. Only after several moments, did Jareth add, "I would like the boy to know more. Seems a shame there would be no one to carry Sarah's legacy, her stories. Even if she did think them to be fairy tales."
A smile crossed Serena's face. A memory stirred. Of a Goblin King she knew long before Sarah Williams; of a Goblin King who would have risked his own life to ensure the preservation of his labyrinth, of his legacy. She smiled broader, the expression extending to her voice. "I will send word to Mithrandir."
Jareth nodded. His mask slid back into place. He frowned, and he stood to resume his pacing. "It grows late, and you have overstayed your welcome, Serena. Give regards to your father."
"Of course," she laughed. "Give mine to Hogwarts."
"Hoggle," he corrected, and he frowned deeper. He remembered when Sarah Williams had corrected him. She too had failed, even if only at first. "Perhaps I will send word to him too. And, to Ludo, and Sir Didymus."
"You are the Goblin King." Serena paused in her movement to stand, her hand poised to initiate the transport spell. "You will be okay?"
For several moments, Jareth did not respond, but when he did, she could hear the ghost of a smile in his words. "I have to be."