Disclaimer:  Alright…  All characters and places and events and ideas coming from the original Labyrinth movie and storyboards belong to whoever holds the copyright to them.  Whatever.  All songs belong to their respective writers and singers and various administrative assistants and messenger boys.  The Emperor of China really has no important part in this disclaimer, but he really needs mentioned because:  He is, after all, the Emperor of China.

AN:  You have no idea how much this sucks!  I've lost my back-up files for this story, and now that they've erased it from , I have to write it all over again!!!!!!!!!!!!!  GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR…………………..  royally upset at the moment.  Sigh.  Okay, well, there's nothing left but to start!

PROLOGUE:   Fly Away From Here (Graduation)

Sun comes up and goes away

So does graduation day

You did your walk of fame and that was it

She turns to me like we're alone

Inside a secret telephone

And says the words that no one else can hear

She said I paid attention to myself

And found that I was someone else

Once a child but now I've grown within

So I'm packing all these golden years

I let them go without a tear

I let them go

And this is what she said

She said to me

She said

I

I believe that everyone can fly

Away from here

She said

I

I believe that everyone can fly

Away

Celebration through the night

Circle 'round this firelight

I guess this pack of wolves will pass for friends

And who's that coming up to me

Hope and opportunity

You better grab it fast, grab it fast

And hope it never ends

I

I believe that everyone can fly

Away from here

She said

I

I believe that everyone can fly

Away

Oh, it's the whisper of, whisper of, I feel it

If day is night and night is day

Which one took your love away

And which one will you use, which one will you use

Who's that coming up to me

Hope and opportunity

You better grab it fast grab it fast and hope

Hope

I

I believe that everyone can fly

Away from here

She said

I

I believe that everyone can fly

Away

Dropline      Fly Away From Here  (Graduation)

Sarah was tired.  Her hands loosely gripped the wheel of her brand new Audi A4, a peace offering from her father.  She paid little attention to the road, focusing on the more turbulent parts of her life and less on the chilly day around her.  The warm smell of new leather greeted her nose as the sun came out from behind a huge building.  It was Sarah's dad's corporate office, as a matter of fact.  It gleamed with its reflective glass and its modern curves.  He was doing so well that the family had moved out of their small, two-story house and into a much classier neighborhood, the denizens of a several acre property and a spacious, modern mansion.  However, playing the part of the big, powerful businessman was taking the humanity out of her father.  The car was a prime example.  He had bought it for her as a peace offering after another heated argument over Sarah's future college.  He hadn't presented the vehicle with a smile, hug or apology.  Not a word was spoken between them.  She just came home one day and found it in the driveway with her name emblazoned on the leather interior.  And in the ensuing four months, he refused to speak to her.  Not out of anger or contempt, but simply because the mechanism that allows humans to communicate feelings had somehow short circuited in him.

Karen was no better.  She had finally learned the art subtle manipulation from one of her various 'secret' boyfriends, and now smiled sweetly at Sarah, but always found some small way to make Sarah's life hell.  Sarah guessed that Karen's behavior could be considered mental and emotional abuse, but she finally saw Karen for what she was, and for the most part was able to ignore the small, frightened, insecure woman – and occasionally laugh at her. 

Another shadow passed across the sun and erased Sarah's unhappy thoughts as completely as if they it was a huge eraser.  Instead she turned her mind to tomorrow, and the opportunity to enjoy her much-awaited eighteenth birthday on her own.  Her parents didn't know it yet, but she was leaving and going to a very exclusive acting school on the east coast, thanks to her real mother's wonderful influence.  No more distant father or snake-like stepmother – only her dreams to keep her company and a smooth road ahead of her.  She'd been packed for weeks!

A passing car honked, and she returned the gesture, recognizing her ex-boyfriend and best friend.  Jason had become more to her than she had really anticipated on their first meeting when he had dumped spaghetti all over her white blouse at lunch.  Their relationship had developed wonderfully after that, leading to a mutual break-up because she was leaving.  He was her inspiration and motivation, and her sole cheerleader for her trip east.  It had been his idea to write to her biological mother in the first place. 

As she turned into her driveway, Fiona Apple came on the radio, and she sang along as she cruised into her three car garage.  Pulling the keys from the ignition, she continued to whisper the lyrics as she walked to the door.  "Darling, please give me your absence tonight.  Take the shade from the canvas and leave me the white…"

She stepped through the door and into her darkened living room.  "Let me sink in the silence that echoes inside…"  She dropped her purse on the sofa and proceeded upstairs, looking forward to a long, hot shower. 

"And don't bother leaving the light on…"  She turned the water on as hot as she could tolerate it and stepped into the shower.

"Cuz I suddenly feel like a different person…"  She stopped and stared through the haze to the slightly open door.  Was that a thump she heard downstairs?  After a few moments of silence, she shrugged and continued washing her hair.

"From the roots of my soul come a gentle coercion.  And I ran my hands o'er a strange inversion…  A vacancy that just did not belong…"  She toweled her hair dry, brushing it out and pulling it back.  Now for some snacks, she thought.

"The child is gone."  As she reached for the light switch, all of the lights flew on anyways, and at least fifty people jumped out from behind furniture shouting "Surprise!"  Balloons and crepe paper and a huge banner that said "Happy Birthday Sarah!" decorated the ceiling.  From somewhere a party hat was stuck on her head and a noisemaker shoved between her lips before she could collect herself. 

Brianne, her very best friend since the summer of her sophomore year, rushed up and hugged her.  "I'm so happy for you, girl!  It's just a shame that I'm gonna lose you to some dumb college!"  She pulled her perfect lips into a pout, and Sarah made an attempt at a reassuring smile.  She had always been secretly a little jealous of Brianne – the perfect socialite who could have any guy she wanted and was already a successful model on her way to the top.  But their differences had never come between them before, and she was happy that Brianne had thought of her on her final birthday as a child, and the first day of her adult life.

 The party commenced, and she found out that the thump she had heard was Jason tripping over her living room rug after coming in behind her.  They laughed about that as well as everything else and everyone went home glowing and happy, and in some cases, not a little drunk.  Sarah was left to reflect on her decisions while she cleaned up the mess.  The party was bittersweet – it had taken her so long to make people accept her, and now that they had, she was leaving it all behind, probably to fight the same long, arduous battles somewhere else. 

Still, the quiet moments before she fell asleep were filled with glowing emotions and a gentle peace that she could only remember feeling in one other place...

Jareth sat quietly, ignoring the tranquil popping of the fire and the half-full glass of celvassy sitting beside him.  He was too tired and frustrated to drink, even.  What with the war reports in the north, the border deterioration in the south and the trade disruption in the west, he had all but given up.  And now this pressure from his mother to take a wife, and from his father to produce grandchildren – heirs – as though his world were not already turned upside down.  For the very first time in his long, long life, he was tempted to sink to his knees and sob like a child. 

Kings and nobles from almost all of his neighboring countries had sent daughters and nieces and sisters as offerings for him, but none of them held any appeal for Jareth.  He supposed it was the gleam in their eyes when they talked about being his future "queen".  They wanted money and the title, and nothing more.  There were as many that were surprisingly open about their greediness as the ones that were conniving and scheming and sneaking.  Just a few hours earlier, he had been forced to chase another naked daughter of King Leon out of his room.  She had tried it twice already, and the mental image sickened him into taking a sip of the cold, mountain whiskey resting on the table next to him.  Just as desired, it went down hard and fast and left a trail of fire coursing through his veins.  It was exactly what he needed to clear his head. 

And then there was the human crisis.  The mortals didn't believe any more.  No one "wished away" a child, they just dumped them in the street or left them in a parking lot to cry out helplessly, and in that situation he could not help them.  He could only sit and watch as some perverted, disgusting specimen coaxed them into a car and sped off with them.  And with each passing day, the rift between the human dimension and his own world was growing smaller.  Those few children that were coming to him were barely small enough to fit through it, so that meant no older brothers or sisters taking the challenge any longer.

Thinking of human children made him think of Sarah.  She was the only one to ever accept and complete his test.  He had always wondered how such a powerful, willful soul came to be placed into a girl barely out of childhood herself.  He admired her – now more than ever – because she was living a simple life, probably on her way to a college, and enjoying the small amount of time she had to her to the fullest.  He yearned for her company – for the strength, youth, and vitality she radiated without even knowing it.  Shaking his head, he tried to clear his thoughts of that idea, for it would never be.  Not unless she willed it.  And she had probably all but forgotten about him. 

Sarah had indeed almost forgotten about the lonely Goblin King.  But some small part of her mind that still embraced fantasy as a livable reality gripped his image with all her might.  That's why, when Sarah dreamed that night, she dreamed of a certain tall, mysterious man with wild eyes and joyfully defiant hair.  e dHHHOf a distant Goblin King, a stately lord who danced with her, sang to her, held her close, and offered her wildest dreams for a mere nothing.  Sarah was no longer bitter over the trials of the Labyrinth – after all, she had wished it upon herself.  And on top of that, her traverse into the world of fantasy had only made her stronger.  It gave her the capacity for insight, which she had previously been lacking severely. 

As if in rebellion to this complacent adult that she had become, the other part of Sarah – the one that refused to grow up, and would always remain a happily insubordinate individual – wished with all her might to be able to see the Goblin King again.  She had scores to settle, and if he was a hunk on top of that, why not?

Sarah, thinking that she was dancing the night away in the arms of her elusive lord, tossed and turned through to dawn, and as the sun slipped over the horizon, a small, barely audible hiss escaped her lips:  "Jareth…".

She awoke not long after, still feeling tired but with the afterglow one gets when spending a nice time with someone whose company you enjoy.  She jumped out of bed, still disoriented and unsure of where she was.  Everything shortly came back to her, however, and with a great sigh, she walked into her bathroom, stepping into the shower.  Turning the water on, she began to meticulously clean herself, as she had done everyday since the age of five.  Her mother had always believed cleanliness was next to godliness, and Sarah shared this view.  Stepping out, she picked out her glossy black mane and blew it dry.  Afterwards, she experimented for an hour with different styles before settling on a complex design that Pierre – her mother's hairdresser – had shown her.  She shook her head, wanting some of the strands to fall loose – she enjoyed the feathery feel of them brushing against her cheek – before spraying it.  She had to make a good impression, so she wore make-up for the first time in a while.  It made her feel like she was hiding behind a mask, but in a way that was good.

Donning a brand new, Gucci business suit, she walked downstairs, mindful of her spike heels.  All she had left to do was to eat breakfast slowly, savoring some of the rare good memories.  After all, with her parents on a cruise in Jamaica and Toby at Boy Scout camp, she was at her own leisure to leave.  As she glided past the living room, she failed to notice the lithe blond figure sprawled on the couch.  Even as his eyes followed her around her kitchen, she paid him no mind, either unable or unwilling to see him. 

Changeling eyes pursued her as she busily and skillfully prepared a light breakfast.  The way her silky, raven hair twisted and turned reminded him of a painting of his great-grandmother, the High Queen, which hung in the main hall of his castle.  Thin, masculine lips pulled together into a wan smile at the irony – bittersweet emotion.  The man's gaze never left her delicate hands as she daintily fed herself and then cleaned the mess, the spotless kitchen staying that way because of it.  Then, pen in hand, she sat down to write a farewell note to her family.

The jet feathers of hair that framed her face gave her an ethereal look, and every time she brought the back of the pen to her full lips to nibble softly on it, he had to restrain himself from saying anything and breaking the spell that seemed to have fallen over her.  Quiet moments passed where he found himself numbed by her beauty and the aura she exuded effortlessly, unable to think or do anything but soak her up like a dry sponge absorbs water. 

A few more serene moments of watching her silently and the mute figure's lips pulled into a wider, self-mocking grin.  He shook his head almost imperceptibly and tapped his riding crop against a lean thigh out of habit.  Still she did not notice him, and maybe that was for the best.  At last, tears in her eyes, she signed the document with a flourish and picked up the keys lying beside her on the table.  There she paused and peered squinting into darkness of the living room, thinking she saw movement.  Shrugging, she turned and walked out to her packed car.  The blond figure did not flinch, but instead watched as she glided out the door.  Then, with a light chuckle to himself, he simply wasn't there anymore.

Driving past familiar houses and parks that held her treasure-trove of good memories, Sarah almost felt sad.  But with an upbeat song just made for road trips blaring over the radio and her entire life to look forward to, not a tear was shed, and she made it safely to the highway.  It was still fairly early in the morning on a Saturday, and many people were at home, enjoying breakfasts with their family before commutes to sports events and dance recitals.  The cars that labored along in the still-wan daylight were few and far between and she was inclined to let go, speeding along the coast, watching the raucous gulls try to race her. 

She felt her soul pull away from her body, and a surreal sense overcame her wits and suddenly she wasn't driving along the California coast, but was racing wild unicorns across and open field, with nothing but the silent world as a witness.  It was due to this detached, magical sensation that she didn't see the huge red oak falling until it was almost too late. 

For some unknown reason, the ancient tree had chosen that moment to tumble from its position on the hillock to its destruction.  Sarah, finding herself on a two lane road in the middle of nowhere with no idea how she got there had three choices:  either swerve to the left and smack into the large hill-like landmass that supported the growing forest of these massive trees, go straight ahead, total her car and possibly lose her life in the bargain; or she could veer to the right, ride the shoulder until the danger passed, and hope she didn't flip over into the ocean.

Quickly deciding that the latter was the best choice, she jerked her tires over onto the narrow strip of dirt separating her from the vast blue sea.  They caught, and with a mighty squeal the car bounced and flipped, the shimmering new paint and chrome glistening in the waxing sunlight, and then it plunged head first to dash against the devouring deeps below. 

Sarah, feeling that floating sensation again, only had the presence of mind to scream the first word that came to mind:  "Jareth!"

Jareth sat on his highly-polished marble throne listening to his top advisors tell him in their most diplomatic way that they had no idea how to solve their current problems, rubbing his temples and wishing for a drink and a nap.  The meeting was progressing from bad to worse, and while that little visit to Sarah early that morning had made him feel just the slightest bit better, it did nothing to ease his troubles.  He was happy that she was happy, however, and he clung to that thought as the desire to set the musty robes of the old fools on fire became almost too much to bear.  He had long since stopped paying attention to the bent, elderly men in their stately robes arguing over what form of action they should take to make themselves look the best.  Coming back to it, he could endure the noise no longer.  Taking his riding crop into hand, he sailed to his feet and slammed it against the arm of his throne.  "SILENCE!"

Not a single living thing moved in his entire castle, and the tension hung thick in the air as the frightened old men began to creep towards the door.

"I'm truly sorry, gentlemen, but it's obvious that we aren't getting anywhere with this discussion, and I have many other matters of importance to see to this morning.  So, if you would retire to your own chambers and think on what was said...?"  He waited for hesitant nods from the daft old wizards before saying, "We shall continue this later."  He dismissed them with a wave of his hand and sank back down onto the throne, grateful that he could be miserable in peace, at least.

After the Long Night's War, he had been forced to bring his kingdom into the midst of the court scene, or face being left behind by all the other realms.  That had lead to long night of… redecorating, so to say.  And the changes, while pleasing to the eye, made Jareth feel like a great fraud.  He hated the uncomfortable marble "torture device" they called a throne.  He missed his rock chair and the goblins running all about, making messes of things.  Even that had changed.  His subjects had agreed to undergo Evolution, a lengthy process of magic that had left him bed-ridden for almost six months afterwards.  At least now they were not disgusting troll action figures.  They each had gained more individual characteristics, which made them less simple and fun loving than they used to be.  The over-advancement of their society in a short period of time was what had caused the elves to meet their defeat and ultimate exile, and Jareth knew the tales of his cruel, ruthless ancestors all too well.  That was one reason his realm had been so barbaric when Sarah had come to visit – Jareth saw change as a threat, and with good reason.  By bringing so much Evolution to his own realm, Jareth's father had nearly destroyed his people and his wife had been bed-ridden ever since.  In his opinion, why should he face their fate, immortal that he was?  He would rather take a bath in the bog!  He chuckled at this.  That would have been something the goblins would have said before the Evolution.  Now, the bog was gone, filled instead with a crystalline spring and disgustingly cheerful flowers.

He sighed.  No sense in brooding here when he could go find some quiet bar in the human world and inhale their revolting smoke and drink their delicious liquor and wish that he were anything but Goblin King.  More than he cared to admit, he envied his best friend, Teriel.  Ter – the dark, handsome, mysterious nobleman and Jareth's best friend since childhood – was currently romancing some courtier or another, with no care for anything other than his current passion.  Rivals always but brothers first and foremost, no secret, no rift, lay between the men, who were, by immortal standards, still young boys.  Ter was always so lighthearted, as though he worried about nothing!  Always ready with a laugh and a smile and a kind, encouraging word.

Jareth began to feel a rage build up in him, and was about to escape to someplace where he could find a haven of peace when the walls of his castle rang with an ear-piercing scream that after a moment the Goblin King recognized as his own name. 

Without knowing how, Jareth knew that it was Sarah screaming for help.  Teleporting to her house as fast as he could, he looked around but did not find Sarah nor any sign of her, and desperately, he wove a spell to find her. 

The teleportation enchantment took him to a secluded spot many miles away, but he found no trace of Sarah or her bright car.  There was, however, a sense of terror and panic here, and seeing the skid marks, he bent down to touch one, tracing a rune softly in the air as he did so.

Immediately, Sarah, her raven hair flying, was driving towards him, a dangerously absent look on her face.  Too late, she saw a tree hitting the ground before her, and swerved to her right to miss the ancient thing.  Jareth watched the rest of it in horror before diving over the guard rails, unworried about his own well-being.

The water was icy cold, but he ignored it as he pushed down toward crushed shape of the demolished Audi.  Sarah hunched limply in the driver's seat, held down by her seat belt.  Her hand, pale as a winter landscape, floated above her, beseeching him to come and save her.  Reaching the side of the drowned car, he stretched across her to unbuckle the belt.  After fighting with it for a few precious moments, he realized with a blunt curse that it was jammed.  He tried for another few second to pull her free, but when her limp hand floated down from his without so much as a twitch, he realized the only way he could save her would be to take her to his world.  That was dangerous now, but it was his only choice if he wanted to save her.

He considered leaving her there and going for human help, but then he looked down and watched her beautiful ebony head slowly slump down to her chest.  Without a second thought, he reached out and touched her hand, and thought of home.  Immediately he was standing in his throne room holding the limp, dripping girl in his arms.  Everyone down to the lowest stable boy heard his bellow for assistance, and luckily Arne was one of the first people to show up, sword in hand. 

Jareth, exhausted from pulling a large, nonmagical creature through the rift, handed Sarah to the man and almost collapsed.  "You've got to get her upstairs.  Find a physician who knows something about mortals.  Fast!  I think she may have drowned!"  And Jareth collapsed upon himself on the floor and began to snore almost immediately while Arne went out to carry out his friend's wishes personally.  Sarah, meanwhile, was drifting.

It was less of the "Gates of Death" experience she had always feared and more of a surreal dream in which she did not participate, but only watched.  It was dark, and voices whispered near her: a nasty, grating, hissing voice that sent shivers up and down her spine and a smooth, silky one that multiplied her trembling one hundred fold.  They chattered back and forth, and the sickly way that one talked made her heart pound as though trying to escape the prison of her ribs. 

"Could it be?  Could it really be?  Be the one we were looking for, yeeesss…"  That last yes drew out into a snake-like hiss, and Sarah felt terror weigh down on her soul.

"If it is, you shall have no part of her!"  The powerful female voice replied, sounding angry.

"We do not wissssh to take her from you, O reverent one.  But, when you finissssh with her, could we, perhapssss, have a little taaasssstte…?"

"No!"  The voice sounded calm and deadly now, "I am your warder, I am your master, and you shall have no such fuel for your lust!  I know what you want, Irilana, and you shall not have it!  You will never see the outside of your prison so long as I live!" 

"Then we sshall have to sssseeeee about that now, won't we, darling?  Yeeesss, we will have to take measuresss to bring that around more quickly, ssshall we?"

"Make threats all you want," the cold voice answered, "But I will never let you out of your prison.  And I will never let any of you do to this poor girl what you have done to me.  She has enough trouble ahead of her as it is, if my intuition is as correct."

"Be that as it may, sssissster.  All the more reassson to make sssssure that you do not sssucceed in this endeavor to ressstore your precioussss Underground…  Those worthlessssss, ssssniveling humansss have proved to be more ussssseful to me than I ever imagined, and don't let thissss one fool you into thinking anything different."

A pinpoint of light in the darkness began to move towards her, and as it approached the voices grew dimmer.  It seemed to land in front of her, and then a figure stepped out of the brilliance.  She got an impression of long flowing hair and an oriental face.  Then the light faded and only a softly shimmering radiance encircled her, illuminating rather than obscuring her beauty, which was now obvious and obviously great to Sarah.

Large almond-shaped eyes tilted inwards, surrounded by a delicate frame of bones bound by elegant porcelain skin that was not the pale of gauze – fragile and too insubstantial – but a strong, healthy, opaque glow.  Not overly tall, but with a framework much like that of her face – a resilient frailty – covered by baggy, unassuming clothes that hid what Sarah knew was true perfection.  A quiver and bow hung from her back, only enhancing the image before her – Sarah assumed from her previous studies that it was some sort of sprite or wood fairy, perhaps an elf.  A delicate smile revealed perfect, straight teeth. 

"Hello, Sarah," An ancient voice issued forth from this person, the sound more sensed than heard.  "I have waited for a long time for you."  She noticed Sarah sizing her up and shook her head.  "Become familiar with me because we will be spending a tremendous amount of time together.  Right now, I am more a part of you than you realize.  We are as one." 

Sarah was confused, but before she could even make an expression of confusion, she was blinded by a radiant light that flashed like a nova, not around her but within her brain, and suddenly she had the strangest sensation of floating and falling at the same time, like she was being compressed into nothing.  No matter how much she flailed her arms and legs, however, the pressure just kept growing.  She faintly thought she heard the sounds of a struggle and a strained curse.

And then, with a very painful jolt, she was suddenly in a strange place, surrounded by strange faces.  She felt the pressing urge to cough, and when she did, salt water burned up through her throat and she spat it out as best she could through the terrible nausea.  Feeling as though her insides were inside out and on fire, she did the only thing she could comprehend at the moment:  faint.

Jareth watched anxiously over the bed as Sarah spat up a mouthful of water and then collapsed.  He looked at the medicio with terror in his eyes, but the withered old man just smiled.  "No, your highness, she is not dead – merely exhausted.  After all, coming back from the grips of Decanis is no small feat, and especially for a human.  A few days in bed with continuous magical care should have this woman back to normal in no time!"  He gave them a bright smile and bowed out of existence, probably back to wherever Arne found him.  Those medicios were like that:  there only until they could bow back out and not offend someone important. 

"Oh well," Jareth sighed, "At least she is okay now."  He pulled his blanket father up on his shoulders and he, too slept.  Tomorrow and its trials and tribulations would have to wait for tomorrow.  He had quite a bit of explaining to do…

Well, there is the start of the remake of 14 whole chapters, which are lost to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  : (  You have no idea how terrible this is… If you are an old fan, yes quite a bit has changed, but most of it will remain intact, and the original storyline still stands, but with a more mature narrative!  I hope everyone is enjoying this!