Voodoo Magic

I lost a bit of stuffing,

The bit that was y heart.

I doubt that I could love without,

Every single part.

So I'm grouchy and I hate you,

But still somehow you see:

That loving little rag doll left,

Deep inside of me.

You're love holds me together,

and without you I would be:

Just threads and fabric, voodoo magic,

'Cuz without you, I'm not me.

By Carmen Aistrup (AKA Willowwhiskers)

Foolish Lancelot

"Sarah, beware." Jareth muttered, his face still as the statues he had carved around the Labyrinth so he could keep watch over her while she faced it's many perils. "I have been generous up until now, and I can be cruel." He warned her, stalking and circling her as if she were prey.

Which, she should know by now, she was.

"Generous?" She mimicked with a mocking, humorless tone. "And what have you done that is generous?"

Jareth's eyes, one blue one brown, flashed dangerously. "Everything!" He yelled, gritting his teeth to maintain a bit of composure. "Everything that you wanted I have done: you asked the child be taken, and I took him. You cowered before me. I was frightening." He gave her an almost feral smile. "I reordered time, and I have turned the world upside-down. . ." He moved in a step closer, and tried to ignore her feign back. ". . . and I have done it all for you. I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me." He said, and stopped before her. "Isn't that generous?" He asked, trying to keep the weariness from his voice.

She stared at him dumbly, and it was a look he had seen on her face many a time before – mostly, at a small park just on the outskirts of town, and she frolicked through the grass and the sunlight in her pretty skirts with her hair adorned with pretty flowers.

"Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered," she recited carefully, her eyes still as glass marbles, "I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City." She took one step forward, and then another, and Jareth nearly tripped down the first stair as she pushed him back, pushed him out, with a single, apathetic glance. "For my will is as strong as yours, and my –"

"Stop!" Jareth commanded, raising a single, white gloved hand. "Wait." Desperately, he tried to remember: What was it that would hold her here? His thoughts raced against time, which he had foolishly always thought was far beneath him. And then, he remembered.

A foolish little porcelain statuette of himself, set in stone upon her vanity, so that she may always see him

with her when she looked in to the mirror.

Smiling lightly, he twisted his hand and summoned a crystal. "Look what I am offering you." He gave the bubble no magic, and when Sarah looked upon it's glossy surface, all she saw was a twisted, reflected version of her own image lying opposite to his. "Your dreams."

Sarah hesitated for only a moment before she made her decision. " – and my Kingdom is as great."

Jareth took another step back. He knew, even then, that he had been defeated. "But I ask for so little." He insisted, his eyes gleaming with desperation. "Just let me rule you, and you can have anything that you want."

Sarah's eyes flinched, and she looked away. "Kingdom. . . as great?" Her brows drew together in confusion, and a glint of hope came back in to Jareth's eyes. "Damn. I can never remember that line."

Jareth nearly lost his footing, but knew that her finicky nature would give him a few more tries to convince her that he cared for her. "Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave." He offered a second time.

"My Kingdom as great. . ." Sarah whispered, making a point to avoid his eyes. Which, he would muse later, was probably for the best, since they were gleaming with all the foolish hopes and dreams he cold have sworn he left behind with his own childhood. "My Kingdom as great. . ."

Jareth took a step forward, ready to offer her it a third time, when she glanced up at him from under her heavy lashes. Her lips tilted at an odd angle, and she whispered the next line almost coyly. "You have no power over me."

Jareth sighed, for his Labyrinth had been bested, and she had utterly refused him. He tossed the crystal in the air, hoping it would shatter, when the clock struck thirteen.

One. It rang out coldly, breaking the spell of the moment.

Two. Jareth smiled at her, with a sigh on his lips. He muttered something, but Sarah missed it, for the ding of three was far too loud.

Four. The bubble burst, in Jareth's outstretched fingers, five, his fingers began to soften and shorted to that of white feathers.

Six. Through the whirling of his capes as the power of the Labyrinth over took him, he could almost see regret in her eyes.

Seven. When the cloaks and capes began to settled, she was sure she could see anguish in his.

Eight. The walls of the Escher print began to crumble like paper, and at nine she could have sworn she saw her living room.

Ten he brushed by her, and with the tips of his wings dared to cope one last forbidden Sarah-feel, eleven the floors began to settled.

Twelve the goblins had placed baby Toby back in his own bed, and at the strike of thirteen, Jareth's spell was broken.

Jareth settled in a familiar tree outside her open window, and watched as she ran through the house, never hesitating, never faulting, as she cried out, over and over and over again, "TOBY!"

And each cry left him feeling bereft and hallow, and more than a little empty inside.

It had been three months since that day, and Jareth still couldn't understand why he felt so utterly miserable at the thought of how her hair curled at the tips as she spun to flee up the stairs, or how desperately she had cried out for her baby brother, and how she had never once given him a second thought.

"Majesty?" A dinky looking, filthy goblin dared to approach the throne. "Would you care for a song?"

A song – a song! That's all they offered! The pesky little vermin would dare to offer him a tune when he himself felt so off-key.

"If you would bring me a gift, there is but one I would ask for." Jareth said, plucking a crystal from the air around him. "Place this crystal in her room."

The goblin danced about a bit, uneasy. "Wot's it do?" He asked wearily, for by this point, all had heard tales of the fine Lady Sarah, and how her kind heart had stolen the heart of the King.

Only a fool would call the upturning of Jareth's lips a smile. "Oh, it does nothing, nothing at all." He twisted it lightly in his hands, careful about the balance. "But if she turns it this way, she'll see me watching her." He said, and tossed it to the other hand. "And if she tries to get rid of it, it will always return to her vanity."

The goblin gave a little gesture, and took the simple crystal. "Won't hurt Lady Sarah, wills it?"

Jareth shook his head. "No, no!" He said with a wave of his hand. "It will only remind her that this is everything that she left behind – and it will remind her that every single day of her existence."

The goblin grinned a toothless smile. "Oh, well. That's all right and dandy then. No harm in a little reminder, right?"

There were few times that Jareth appreciated his Goblins stupidity, and this was one of them. "Of course." He answered. "Nothing wrong with that at all."

Sarah, who was unaccustomed to having anybody in her room, was more than a little surprised when she clicked on the light and a stubby, unwashed goblin was standing on her vanity, a small, plastic bracelet in one hand and an oversized crystal in the other.

She grabbed it before it had a chance to magic itself away.

"Please don't hurt me, Lady Sarah! I was just doing as the King asked me too!" The goblin wailed.

"What were you doing?" Sarah demanded, given the poor thing a little shake. "Why did he send you?"

"I was just looking at all of your pretty baubles!" The terrified creature wailed. "Please don't hurt me Lady Sarah!"

Sarah sighed, and gave a side glance to the jewelry that had fallen upon her vanity. As inspiration struck her, she smiled. "I would give you one of them if you would tell me what the King has sent you to do." She offered, setting him gently down.

The Goblin hesitated, and glanced nervously at the pretty plastic bracelets. They were practically worthless to Sarah, for in her world plastic was everywhere. But in a world governed by magic, it would surely fetch a hefty price should he ever decide to part with such a treasure.

"But. . . I cannot betray the King!" The goblin argued, more with himself than with Sarah.

"Oh, but did the King tell you not to tell me anything?" Sarah asked smoothly, her line executed perfectly.

The weight of thought was obviously heavy for the Goblin, for his brows drew together and his faced scrunched up. "Well. . . no, he didn't."

Sarah picked up the bracelet for him, and offered it, kneeling lightly. "Then you wouldn't really be betraying him, would you?"

The goblin grinned toothlessly. "Oh! You're right! That's all fine and dandy!" (If the Goblin King had heard this, he certainly would have been cursing his luck now.) The Goblin pointed to the floor, where the crystal had fallen silently. "He wanted me to give you that."

Sarah bit her lip, uneasily, and frowned. "What is it?" She asked.

The Goblin shrugged. "A crystal." He answered deftly. "Even I knew that."

With a roll of her eyes, Sarah sighed. "But things from the Labyrinth aren't exactly what they always seem, if you catch my drift."

From the confused look on his face, the poor chap didn't.

"Like, the crystal might actually be something else."

Still the epiphany of blankness.

"It might do something other than sit there."

"Oh!" The goblin smiled. "Why didn't you say so? 'Course it does something else! Gift from the Goblin King, that is it is!"

Sarah felt her patience withering. "What does it do?"

The Goblin hopped off the vanity and picked it up, offering it to her. "Jareth says it's supposed to remind you of what you left behind. Ain't that sweet?"

"Sweet like the snake giving Eve an apple was sweet." Sarah said, and gave the little goblin his prize.

"Thank you very much, Lady Sarah!" The Goblin gave her a little bow, and slowly began to disappear.

"Wait!" Sarah called out. "Why do you keep calling me Lady Sarah?"

"Because you are." Answered a Cheshire smile on the air. "You're the Lady of the Labyrinth."

And then, the little beastie was gone before she could question him further.

Sarah picked up the crystal with one hand and scowled. "Well, now. Just how do you work, then?" The crystal gleamed at her, mockingly. She tossed it a bit, and sat down on her bed before realization dawned. "It's a crystal." He had told her once. "Nothing more." She twisted it carefully in her hands, and let her fingertips splay upon them as it passed over them, rolling coolly against her skin. "But if you turn it this way, and look in to it, it will show you. . ." Sarah squinted her eyes as the cool crystal revealed to her a chaotic scene: the goblin dancing merrily, chasing chickens and smiling in the King's throne room.

"But where's Jareth?" She wondered out loud.

The scene in the crystal blurred and cleared, and it was a new scene: the Goblin King himself, sitting out a window with an empty expression upon his face. He flinched for a moment, and then stared right at her.

Sarah gave a little scream and dropped the crystal on the hardwood floor, jumping back as if it had burned her. And then, with another cry, she reached over her bed to retrieve it. "Please don't be broken." She whispered, her eyes clenched tightly. "Please don't be broken."

She sighed deeply when she pulled it up and it's smooth surface had remained unblemished. "Thank you." She whispered, cradling it to her chest. "Thank you so much." A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye, and she looked back down, and saw that the Goblin King hadn't moved, but that his face was strained in such a way that she had never seen before. He looked so angry, but underneath that, she would have sworn that he looked so lonely. . .

But then he shook his head, and turned back to the Labyrinth, and she knew that he hadn't seen her.

She knew it was shameless, and she knew it made her a voyeur, but everyday she watched him for hours, and everyday his face had the same odd expression on it. . . as if he were tired, and as if he were angry, but mostly as if he were lonely. She tried to ignore her own sense of longing, her need to comfort him, but the effort was exhausting and it just left her feeling tired, confused, and completely bereft.

Still, she looked on in to the crystal and wondered. . .

It was obvious (painfully so) that while she could see him, the same could not be said vice verse. Why would he grant her such a gift, and deny himself the same? Was this supposed to be punishment? Because to her, despite all his bravado, all she saw was an empty, lonely King.

She held Lancelot, her silly stuffed bear, close to her chest, and thought for a second that the King and the bear had more in common than she would ever admit out loud. Both had the same, carefully blank gleam to their eyes, both of their mouths twisted downwards just so, and both of them had utterly captured her heart.

It seemed to her that it wasn't a form of punishment at all. In fact, it almost seemed a boon. . .

Closing her eyes, Sarah resisted the need to cry, as she cradled her two most favorite things in the world to her chest, and fell asleep cursing the Goblin King for his foolishness.

His life was falling apart at the very seams.

The girl (he refuse to call her by name, and any one of his goblins who uttered the words "Lady Sarah" in his presence were immediately, unceremoniously, dropped in to the bog of eternal stench) had showed him exactly where she thought he could shove his offers, but still. . .

He couldn't forget her. Not the way she recited silly monologues, nor the way her nose crinkled just a bit when she laughed, nor the fiery determination that she had when she told him quiet coldly that he had no power over her.

But she had power over him. . .

He had felt the magic of her crystal watching him quite often, and would occasionally turn and give her the fiercest scowl he could muster. But it was a failed attempt, even he knew, to completely leave his eyes empty of the searing loneliness of the oubliette that she had cast him in to. . . the back of her mind, a foolish childhood dream.

Oh yes, she certainly had power over him. . .

And if he felt the need to weep and cry and scream to the heavens, well, he just waited until he could no longer feel the catch of the magic to do so.

Her life was falling apart at the very seams.

The King (she refused to acknowledge him by name, because unfamiliarity was all that she could hope for as she tried to isolate where his feelings ended and hers began) had been sitting in his window, sitting in his throne, sitting at the table, but never had his expression changed.

She saw (when she dared to look away from him) that the Kingdom was falling in to disarray. The Bog of eternal stench was filling with goblins who had set up little huts besides it, obviously having been dumped in to it themselves. The walls of the Garden mazes were growing wild and untamed, just like his hair. Even the fierys, from what she had seen, were melancholic.

Yes, there was a darkness upon the land of the Labyrinth, and Sarah had a sickening feeling that it was called Lady Sarah. . .

Still, none of this made her as guilty as the looks he would give to her, of anguish and hatred and longing for something he himself had denied.

The guilt left her a hallow thing, and she soon began to lose her sleep, her appetite, and, frankly, the will to do much of anything at all.

It was when Karen had approached her (Are you sure you're not ill, sweetie? Your eyes are so dark, and you haven't been eating, and your grades are dropping. . . is everything alright?) that she had began to realize that it may not have been the Goblin King had set aside for her, but it was punishment nonetheless.

She had said that he had no power over him, but it was a lie. He had all sorts of power over her.

And if she screamed and cried and yelled out "It's not fair!" until her throat was raw and bleeding, well, then it was just one more thing he didn't know about her.

Surprisingly enough, it was Karen who made the first move.

Tired of watching her step daughter suffer, tired of hearing her sobbing at night when she surely thought no one could hear her, just tired, she was the one who made the first step with a single knock.

"Go away!" Came a muffled cry.

"I just want to talk to you." Karen told her, and cracked open her door.

Sarah frowned up at her from her bed. "Go away." She repeated, her eyes puffy and red, her nose running just a bit.

Karen gave her a small, comforting smile, and sat down besides her on the bed. "It's a boy, isn't it?"

Sarah shook her head. "It's a man." Which was as close to the truth as she would ever admit.

"Yes, they all seem that way, don't they." Karen teased lightly, and Sarah struggled to fight her smile. "There's that pretty smile." Karen said, brushing some of Sarah's hair away from her face. "I was beginning to miss it."

Sarah scowled quickly, and Karen saw her wrap her fist around something tightly. A ball? She wondered, or a crystal?

"My smile?" Sarah asked, twisting the crystal this way and that. "It's not that important."

Karen shrugged. "It's probably very important to your. . . man."

Sarah's hand flinched, and she dropped the crystal on to the mattress. "No." She answered honestly. "It really isn't."

Karen didn't press, but the look in her eyes told Sarah exactly what she thought of the admission. "So, tell me something about him."

"He's tall." Sarah said, and walked over to her vanity. "With hair like hay and mismatched eyes." She carefully picked up the statuette of him. "He wears his pants too tight, and his shirts are too old, and he's the ruler of the Labyrinth." Sarah handed Karen the statuette. "I have fallen in love with the Goblin King."

Karen smiled and turned the statuette in her hands. "There is a saying, Sarah, that is widely unheard of."

"And what's that?" Sarah asked.

"That, in the case of the truth being so unbelievable that none would believe it, it is always best to hide the truth in the truth." Karen handed her the statuette back. "Because the truth is so unbelievable, it's better than any lie."

Sarah accepted the Goblin King, and frowned, confused. When she looked up, Karen was already at her door.

"I always liked that you believe in fairytales." Karen admitted. "It's my favorite thing about you. But I was always curious: what incited it so much? What makes them so. . . real to you?" Karen smiled, and pulled the door as she left the room. "I think that I know."

And then, Karen was gone.

And Sarah knew what to do.

"I wish the goblins would come and take me away, right now!"

When the summons came, Jareth sighed. It had been a relatively slow few months, and no one had tried to wish away their child. But he should have known that there were still babes out there that were just as unloved as he.

He left in a sour mood.

And when he magicked himself to the room of Sarah Williams, he looked just as confused as the Goblins who weren't quite sure what to do with the girl.

"You." Jareth hissed out, and recoiled when she took a step towards him.

"Yes," Sarah said with a sad smile. "It's me."

Jareth scoffed, and frowned. "Baby brother bothering you so much again?"

"Majesty?" A goblin at his feet pulled lightly on his robes. "She wished herself away."

Jareth's head snapped up, and the eyes that met hers were drowning in confusion. "Leave." He commanded the Goblins around him.

And, left alone with the Goblin King, Sarah began to fidget most uncomfortably. "Is that true?" Jareth demanded, circling her appreciating.

Sarah bowed her head and nodded silently.

Jareth frowned. "You know, it takes more than words to summon me. It takes heart, and intention." Jareth stopped before her, and scooped her chin up in a gloved hand. "Do you hate yourself so much you have the power to send yourself away?"

Sarah smiled sadly, and reached in to her pocket. "I never got to tell you how much I love your gift." She told him, offering the crystal. "I never got to tell you how much I love a lot of things."

The smile he gave her was a wicked, sadistic one. "Well, since we're just admitting things so freely now, is there anything else you wish to waste my time with?"

Sarah hesitated for only a moment before she jumped him, her arms wrapped around his neck as she gave him her first, awkward, kiss. "I love you." She admitted, giving him another kiss. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!"

Jareth pulled her away, and was surprised that she was sobbing. "Please please please take me with you!" She begged, reaching for him. "I never meant what I said."

"Sarah," Jareth told her, lowering her slowly to the ground. "What's said is said. You said I had no power over you –"

"I lied!" Sarah admitted, and rushed forward to hug him. Her arms clasped around his back, and she buried her face in his sternum. "And I will not let you go!"

Jareth remained motionless against her. "Why?" He asked quietly, his voice quivering where his body did not. "Why did you lie? Do you have any idea what you have done?"

Sarah nodded sadly. "But. . . it's the way things are done, right?" She asked, lifting her head to catch his gaze. "The heroine defeats the villain and returns home victorious!"

"But. . . I wasn't the villain." Jareth told her, stroking her hair. "You were."

Sarah froze. "What?"

"You were the one who wished the baby away. You were the one who destroyed a kingdom. You were the one who released a monster back to roam the Labyrinth." Jareth told her, wiping away a single tear. "You."

Sarah smiled sadly. "Well," she said quietly. "I guess we didn't have much of a fairytale at all, did we?"

"Do you really believe in fairy tales?" Jareth asked, stroking her skin with a butter-soft glove.

Sarah turned her cheek in to his affections. "No." She admitted, and sank in to his embrace more deeply. "No, I don't."

"Do you believe in Happy ever afters?"

Sarah smiled. "Depends on what you're offering me."

Jareth leaned down, and titled her chin up. "Forever." He told her before his lips captured hers.

The Williams family was a small one – one son, a father, and a mother.

The Williams family did not remember that they had a daughter, only that their was a certain feminine youth that always seemed to be missing from the house.

So they had tried, time and time again, to have a baby girl for Toby to take care of, but Karen proved to be infertile.

But they always kept a pretty girls room, decked with costumes and dolls and fairytales.

It was Toby's favorite room.

He would read out loud to himself sometimes from a book called Labyrinth while hugging a bear he named Lancelot, and decided that if he ever did have a sister, she would very much enjoy hearing this story. About a pretty girl who stole the heart of the Goblin King, and was the only one in the Kingdom who knew exactly what went on inside of his Goblin head.

And if he ever saw the twin barn owls sitting outside of the bedroom, he would shrug them off. After all, it wasn't so uncommon for animals to have found their mates.

-Fin

(not the dog)