Author's Note: Standard disclaimer still applies. Please Review!!
Linda Williams angrily flung open the door to her closet and quickly selected several items of clothing, flinging them into the open suitcase lying on her bed, hangers and all. From the next room, she could hear childish laughter and giggles; could that girl play with her toys any louder?! Linda ignored the sounds coming from her daughter's room, focusing on the matter at hand. Her husband had left for an academic trip, lecturing on whatever it was he studied now-a-days over in some university in Seattle. Linda didn't care. She was leaving. She was leaving her boring, quiet husband and her wild, play-acting daughter and she was going out west. She'd gotten a gig in Hollywood. Nothing too big – just a simple soap commercial – but it could lead to bigger and better things. She could finally become the actress she'd always wanted to be before she'd saddled herself with a family. But she had to leave soon. The gig was in two days; she'd gotten a plane ticket for early the next morning, long before her husband returned tomorrow night. She wasn't going to deal with a messy, emotional scene, not right before her big break. Sarah'd be fine on her own for the day. God knows that child could keep herself entertained for hours. When Sarah wasn't busy playing with her toys and making them act out her childish whims, she was rattling away about the most asinine and mundane of things.
Linda threw another pair of pants into the suitcase, and heard the door to her room creak open. She turned and saw her four-year-old daughter Sarah framed in the doorway, teddy bear in hand and a confused, frightened expression on her face. Dear God! Don't let her get all upset; I can't deal with her when she gets upset! Linda continued with her packing, hoping that if she ignored her, Sarah would just go away.
"Mommy?" Came the child's voice from the doorway. Linda didn't answer. "Mommy? Where you going?" Linda looked up from the shirt she was folding, and gave her daughter a scathing look. Sarah recoiled for an instant, not liking it when her mother was mad. "Don't go mommy!" Sarah began sniffling, and her face began to get red. Linda sighed in aggravation and scooped her daughter up, giving her a brief and emotionless hug before depositing Sarah in the bedside chair. As Linda returned to her packing, Sarah began removing items from her suitcase. She was quiet about it, and had half of the bag emptied before Linda knew what she was doing. When Linda figured it out, she let out another irritated sigh and started piling all the clothes back in. Sarah began crying in earnest as she again tried removing the clothes. Her mommy couldn't leave if she didn't have any clothes!
Sarah began howling as Linda pushed her away from the suitcase angrily, yelling "Stop it, Sarah! I'm leaving, and you can't stop me!" She threw the rest of her clothes into the suitcase and began zipping it up with jerky, angry motions. Sarah sat on the ground, stunned. When her mother had finished zipping up the suitcase, Sarah launched into action and attached herself to her mother's leg, a physical impediment. Her mommy wasn't going to leave without her!
Linda's hands became fists as she bit back another cry of frustration. Would that child never shut up!? Sarah was now howling at the top of her lungs, snot and tears running down her red-splotched face. Linda tried walking around the room with Sarah clinging to her leg, throwing her makeup into a bag, and then grabbing her other toiletries. The more Sarah cried and clung to her, the angrier Sarah's mother became. When she could take it no longer, Linda leaned down, grabbed her daughter firmly by the shoulders and forcefully dislodged her. When Sarah began to cry louder, Linda did the one thing she'd never done before: she slapped her daughter.
Not hard, but enough to stun Sarah into temporary silence. Linda resumed her packing as Sarah curled up where she was on the carpet, assuming the fetal position, her hand on the cheek that bore her mommy's handprint. She began crying again, but she was no longer howling; she seemed beyond it now, and the only sounds coming from her were muffled sobs and tears.
Linda looked around the room, and remembered that she'd need her ticket. She went to the night table, stepping over her crying daughter, and picked the ticket up from on top of a stack of books. One of them caught her eye, a small red volume with gold lettering. She'd read it, a little of it, before tossing it aside and letting her husband have it. It wasn't exactly his forte but it sure as hell wasn't hers. Something about goblins and a Labyrinth, and a Goblin King who'd come and take children away. If only he were real; I could wish this nuisance away to him right now and be free of her! Sarah's mother turned back and looked at her daughter, feeling no pity, no stirrings of motherly or even humanly compassion for the distraught child.
Why not? She asked herself. No, that's silly. Linda dismissed the notion and turned to put the ticket in her carry-on bag. When she had it secured, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders: she was ready to go. All she needed to do now was get to the Airport in a few hours and she'd be free of this place, of this house, of this family. Sarah gave a quiet sob and raised a small hand to wipe her leaky nose. Feeling reckless, Linda said, "I wish the goblins would come and take you away; right now." She then turned back to her luggage and began hauling it out of the room and down the stairs, never once looking back at her daughter. She hadn't heard Sarah's soft cries cease the moment she had wished her away.
When she returned to the room to get the last of her things, she gave a start of surprise: there was a man in her room! She would have taken him for a theatrical man, fresh from the stage, and quite appealing, if he hadn't been standing in her bedroom, uninvited. "Who are you?" She asked, hearing a small tremor of fear leak out into her voice.
"You know very well who I am," said the man, in a sophisticated British drawl.
Who is he? Is he an actor? He looks a bit like that singer – that British guy with the red hair who sang something about Mars – oh, what's his name…wait! No! It couldn't be? "You're him, aren't you? You're the Goblin King?"
He nodded briefly, letting her know that she was correct, but added nothing, seeming to be waiting for her to realize something.
Linda looked around, finally realizing that Sarah wasn't anywhere to be seen. "Where's my daughter?"
He finally spoke. Arching one impossibly high eyebrow he said, "If you're referring to the child you wished away, she's there…" He pointed his leather-clad hand out the window, revealing a giant Labyrinth, and in the center, a castle. "You have thirteen hours to reach the center of the Labyrinth before your daughter becomes one of us, forever."
"Keep her. I don't want her back. She'd be better off there anyway-"
The Goblin King talked over her, "I'm afraid you don't have a choice. Attempt the Labyrinth, or become part of it. If you don't wish to attempt my Labyrinth, then you'd better resign yourself to being part of it for the rest of your life, and beyond. You'd make a nice stone sculpture, perhaps a water fountain." He watched her begin to protest, but again cut her off. "If the prospect of spending the rest of your days as a piece of stonework doesn't appeal to you, then I suggest you get started." With those words, the Goblin King faded away, leaving a stunned woman in his wake.
Jareth appeared in his throne room, where the previously howling child now looked around the room in silent wonder. The goblins didn't frighten her, he observed. Stooping before her, he said, kindly, "I don't believe we've met. I'm Jareth, and you are…?"
The little girl turned to face him, lifting up her red-rimmed eyes to meet his magnificent gaze. "I'm Sarah," she said.
Jareth didn't move. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. Those eyes…I've seen those eyes before. But where? Her green orbs touched something inside of him, awakening something in his soul. In his mind, he saw those same eyes, save that this time they belonged to a beautiful young woman, with raven hair flowing down her back and the sun in her smile. That same woman he'd first seen in a dream when he ruled Somnaria. That same woman who'd lived in his dreams for years, filling him with love and hope and desperation all at once. His dream woman.
When Jareth had reached marrying age, he had deplored the thought of binding himself irreversibly to any of the trussed up fae-women thrust at him by their ambitious fathers. Their affections were shallow, and their hearts were ruled by greed, greed for the throne of the Underground. Jareth found a few attractive, and pleasant, but none had ever wanted him for him, and it had hurt each and every time he found that out. Eventually, Jareth decided to have nothing to do with them. Instead, he dreamed up the perfect woman; how she'd look, talk, act, and how much she'd love him for him alone, and not his crown. And then, on no particular night, she came to him in his dreams, everything he'd ever wanted in a companion, save for the fact that she was only a dream. He'd spent every sleeping moment with her, and every waking moment wanting to be with her. He'd known she was just a dream, the product of a lonely heart, but that hadn't stopped him from losing himself to her. It hadn't stopped him from becoming consumed by her, driven only by the need to hold her in his mind once more, until the wolves of the Underground were at Somnaria's door, and he could do little to drive them away.
When he'd given her up, when he'd given the dream up to address the threat of war in the Underground, he'd consoled himself with the hope that someday, somewhere, this woman would exist. Someday, the soul he'd met in his dreams, the one who'd held him while he cried, laughed with him when he smiled – that woman would exist, and he would know her. All he had to do was wait, and be vigilant. And so he waited, for centuries. The hope of finding her someday, of finding the other half of his soul had consoled him when he lost Somnaria. It had given him something to fight for when he lost so many brave subjects in the war. It had given him a reason to continue on every day when he became the utterly isolated Goblin King, surrounded by loving subjects not one of which he could confide in. He'd made many journeys Aboveground to look for her, for the form she'd taken in his dreams was that of a mortal woman. Never once had he come close to finding her. After a thousand years of waiting, he'd started to doubt that he'd ever find her. But then this child – this Sarah – had been wished away to him today. He knew with a gripping certainty that this child was She. This child, with a face swollen from crying, would grow to become the woman of his dreams. The woman his heart longed for.
"Jareth, where's my mommy?" Sarah spoke directly to him, unperturbed by the goblins surrounding her, unaffected by the unfamiliar surroundings of Jareth's throne room. Jareth looked at her, this tiny being of potential who would one day, perhaps, become the woman Jareth knew was meant for him and bring him the greatest joy he'd ever longed for, and he realized that she couldn't stay here. If she stayed the full thirteen hours, she'd become a goblin, and there was no going back from that transformation.
"Your mommy is on her way, precious. She'll be here soon, don't you worry, Sarah." He motioned to two of his more intelligent goblins, and they left the room. "Now, Sarah," said Jareth, "why don't you tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?"
And so she did. Jareth listened raptly to her every word. Right now, he was talking with a child, like he'd talked to hundreds of other children to calm them down when they were wished away. But she was different. She didn't need calming down; she'd calmed herself down the moment she arrived here. If anything, she calmed him. Her words held him captive: for all she was but three or four, her manner of speaking was dynamic. All that she said and described was so vivid, so lively, and the way she expressed herself was so…magical. He could sense an aura about her; in his time as King of Somnaria, he'd developed the talent of reading a person's dreams and in that arena, she was exceptionally gifted. He could catch glimpses of her dreams, bright flashes of color and energy, of such intensity that he'd not seen for centuries. She truly was a remarkable child.
"I have a present for you, Sarah."
Her eyes widened in surprise, but then hesitancy creased her brow. "Daddy says I shouldn't take presents from strangers."
"And your Daddy is very right. But I am hardly a stranger. What if I told you that I was a king?"
Her eyes widened again, "A king!?"
"Yes, a king. The Goblin King. Now, do you think you can accept my present?" He summoned a crystal and held it out for her, waiting for her response.
She squirmed, looking at the crystal, before smiling. "Okay! What is it?" He smiled as she took it in her small hands.
"It's a crystal, nothing more, nothing less. But if you turn it this way, it will show you your dreams."
Her face fell slightly, losing some of that joyful exuberance of before as she handed him back the crystal. "Mommy says my dreams aren't important."
What a cruel woman your mother is, Jareth thought, but said instead, "You're mommy is very wrong, darling. Dreams are important. There's an entire kingdom just devoted to dreams here, and I used to rule it. I used to be the king of dreams. You don't think I'm unimportant, do you?"
"No..." She said, hesitantly.
Jareth held up the crystal again, watching her eyes focus on it as she took it once more. As Sarah raised it in her tiny hands to see it better, it popped out of existence, like a bubble might. She blinked. "Where'd it go?"
Jareth smiled and said, "It went here, and here." He tapped her head, and her chest.
"Oh," was her simple response.
Jareth picked her up and sat her on his throne as he faced her and began to sing with the goblins, presenting Sarah with an entertaining show. Sarah was transfixed by his voice, although the words probably flew over her head. When he finished his song, and the goblins stopped dancing, Jareth began to tell her stories, stories about the Labyrinth.
"...And they can really take off their heads when they dance?" Sarah asked, incredulous.
"They can take off their heads and their arms and their legs…they can take themselves completely apart. But if you ever meet them, don't talk to them – they'll try and pull you apart too!"
Jareth tickled her briefly, eliciting a bright bubble of laughter from her. When he stopped, she said, "Tell me another story about the bog of eternal stink."
"Of course, milady!" Sarah giggled again. "Well, there's a knight there – do you know what knights are?"
"Yes! Like Sir Lancelot!"
Jareth chuckled at her exuberance. "Exactly! Well, one day a knight like Sir Lancelot journeyed to the Labyrinth. He was tired after his journey, and didn't want to do any more traveling, so he got off his steed, Aurelius, and set up home on the shores of the bog of eternal stench."
"But didn't it stink too much?"
"Why yes it did, but let me tell you a great secret." Jareth looked left, and the right, as if he was looking for eavesdroppers, before leaning forward and whispering, "Sir Didymus can't smell." He leaned back, and Sarah made to laugh, but he silenced her with a finger to his lips and a mock serious, "Don't tell him I told you!" He grinned, to eliciting another giggle from her, before continuing his tale. "He thinks he can, and if you ever meet him, you should never ever tell him that he can't smell – it'd hurt his feelings terribly. But since he couldn't smell the awful stench of the bog, I gave Sir Didymus the duty of guarding it. He swore an oath to let no one cross his bridge over the bog without his permission."
"But if it stinks so much, why would anyone want to cross the bog?"
"To get to see the faeries on the other side, that's why."
"Faeries!"
"Do you know what a fairy is?" She nodded vigorously, and pointed at him, grabbing a hold of his hair playfully. Jareth laughed. "I'm not a fairy! I'm fae, which is like a human, except I have magic and I live for a long time." His disentangled her hands from his hair and said, "Now, let's see if we can't find you a fairy, but be careful – they're not as nice as they seem…"
Jareth took her on a tour of his castle, through the room of wandering staircases, through the goblin village outside, to see the faeries along the wall of the Labyrinth. The citizens they met along the way didn't see anything out of the ordinary; this was perfectly normal behavior for their king. He often took children around the kingdom while the person who wished them away ran the Labyrinth. It made sense: he was the closest thing to a human there; he was the one person in the entire Underground whose appearance wouldn't frighten them. Much.
In just a few short hours, Jareth had taken Sarah all over the Kingdom. He'd shown her the faeries, and introduced her to the Labyrinth's surly gatekeeper. Jareth had shown her everything exciting and wonderful about the Labyrinth in hopes that she'd remember it as she grew up and want to come back someday in the future. By the end of their journeying, Sarah was sleepy, and so they returned to his throne room.
Jareth placed her on his throne and covered her with his cape as she fell fast asleep. A few minutes later, in walked Sarah's mother, escorted by the two goblins he had sent. From her appearance and her indignation at being summoned, it was obvious to Jareth that she had barely been trying at all. He knew she would tell him, again, to keep Sarah, but he couldn't take that chance. She had to mature in her own world, and then she could come to stay in his. If he took her in now, she'd become a goblin, and he couldn't have that.
He could threaten to turn her into a statue again, to make her try, but he was anxious to get Sarah out of here now, before anymore time passed. In his most imperious tone and stance he said, "You will take your daughter home. You will wait for her father to return, and then you will leave. You may do as you like after that, but you will not have any further part in Sarah's life. You have forfeited your rights as a mother." She opened her mouth angrily, perhaps to demand just who he thought he was, but he again stopped her before she could speak. "That child," and here he pointed at Sarah, "has suffered enough at your hands. Any time you spend with her will be hereafter monitored. I don't think I need to tell you what fate would await you should you even think of hurting her in any way, ever again." He waved his hands, and they were back at her house.
Sarah was in his arms, and he walked silently to Sarah's room, knowing where it was without being told. He set Sarah on her bed and tucked her in, under the covers.
She opened her eyes sleepily, and said softly, "Goodnight, Jareth." He smoothed her hair back, and whispered in her ear,
"Goodnight, Sarah darling. Sweet dreams." Sarah snuggled into her covers, letting out a child-like sigh, and then Jareth disappeared, as if he had never been there at all.
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Jareth awoke. His head was still pillowed on Sarah's lap, and he could just see her by the light of the dying fire. She was still sleeping. He sat up slowly, carefully so as to not wake her, and stirred up the fire, bringing it back to warming life. The sky was still black; he didn't know how long he had been asleep, or why he'd dreamed that particular dream. He'd not thought of the first time that he physically met Sarah in years.
He'd waited around, after Sarah's mother had thought he'd gone. He'd waited, watching, making sure she waited until Sarah's father returned. He saw their fight, and he saw how Sarah's father accepted that his wife was leaving him reluctantly, although he must have seen it coming. Sarah had been upset when her mother had left, but not as upset as she'd been the night before, held safe as she was in her father's arms. Jareth made good on his warning, though, and watched every meeting that Sarah'd had with her mother after that, until the day Sarah came back to his Labyrinth when she wished Toby away. He'd made sure that Linda Williams stayed away from Sarah, so she never hurt her again. He would have felt bad about what he was doing, keeping a mother from her child, save that he hadn't really had to do anything: Linda Williams had left her family and had only looked back when she'd been made to by Sarah's father.
Sarah hadn't remembered what her mother had been like that day, or any day before it. She'd idolized her mother, posting placards and posters from her mother's plays all over her room. When she'd been faced with the prospect of a new mother, of a step-mother, she'd reacted as any loyal daughter would have and had rebelled. He'd seen it; he'd expected it. But it appeared she'd gotten over it in the time she'd been gone, and that pleased Jareth. Sarah had needed a mother, one that would love her like she should have been loved, and Karen seemed as close as Sarah would come to it.
Sarah hadn't remembered her time in the Labyrinth either, not consciously. But in her dreams he was certain she returned to the Labyrinth. She had to remember something – why else had her room mirrored the Labyrinth so exactly?
Sarah's leg twitched, and Jareth looked at her, wondering what it was she dreamed of. He'd not tried reading anyone's dreams ever since he first met her, and now he found he preferred the mystery rather than the truth. He saw that she was shivering from the cold and no wonder; she was wearing only his shirt and her under things; she must be freezing! Very slowly, and very quietly Jareth scooped this sleeping Sarah up into his arms, like he had done when she was a child, and he laid her ever so gently on her side, facing the fire. But unlike when she was a child, when he'd tucked her into her small, warm bed, this time Jareth curled up beside her, behind her, pressing her into the warmth of his body. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to get her warm, or at least that was what he'd tell her if she awoke.
Sarah stirred briefly in her sleep and Jareth froze, afraid that she was going to awake. Instead, Sarah simply curled herself into his embrace and pulled his arms tighter around her, snuggling into him. Jareth relaxed, and let himself go back to sleep. He didn't need his dream-Sarah tonight. Tonight, he had the real, flesh-and-blood Sarah safe in his arms.