Young Writers Society

Dori

"There's such a sad love, deep in your eyes." Dori used the battered remote to pause the movie on Jareth's face, with those sad, sad eyes.

"I'm here for you Jareth! Sarah doesn't love you like I would. Why can't I just trade places with her? Ugh!" She groaned as she always did over this movie, vocalizing her insane jealousy. Dori dreams of a love, an all-powerful, all-consuming love that would turn reality-harsh, unforgiving reality-into a wonderland of adventures and magic.

In the midst of her raving, Dori glanced at the clock on the wall. Shit, she thought to herself; she was late to practice. Again. Dad's gonna be so mad. She got up and rushed around her sparse bedroom, getting changed. Shirt, shorts, shoes, glove. Hat, I forgot my hat. Dori grabbed the tattered cap off of her bedpost as she ran out her door. It was lucky they lived close the golf course, about a ten minute walk. She was currently thirty-five minutes late to practice, so another ten shouldn't be the end of the world. Who plays golf at 5:30 anyways? She grumbled to herself.

Walking up to the driving range with her head down, she headed towards her favorite coach, Mr. Mardin. Mardin was in his early 60's, with long hair perpetually blown back and a mustache that grew down around his mouth and onto his chin. "Good of you to show up, Theo." The old man teased, only half serious. She loved this man like a father and had known him since she was young

"I know Mardy, I'm sorry. I just got a little sidetracked and time got away from me." She looked at the rest of the people on the range, mostly retired men, some wives, even a child or two.

"Of course it did. It often does in the Labyrinth." He chuckled and looked at her knowingly. Naturally, he knew. He was the one who had given her the movie for her eighth birthday. "But, I'm not the one you have to apologize to. Today is your day to practice with Daniels, remember?" he pointed towards the clubhouse.

The blood drained from Dori's face as she turned to follow Mardy's finger. How could she have forgotten? Coach Daniels, both, loved and hated when she was late. Hated it because it wasted his precious time and loved it because it gave him an excuse to call her father and get her into trouble. He's hated her since she slapped him during their third practice together when he got too handsy tried to feel her up.

Daniels was walking from the clubhouse, obviously having seen her arrival, with a small-Dori sees it as sadistic-smile on his face, eyes hard and knowing. "This is the third time you've been late this week. You only have three practices a week. Mr. Mardin and I take time out of our home life to teach you-after hours, mind you-so you would think you'd have the decency to show up on time. It looks like I'm going to have to call your father and tell him about your poor behavior."

"I was sick earlier this week, so things took longer than usual. Today, I was just busy." She cannot have him call her dad. The entire time, Mardy was just looking back and forth between us, like a tennis match. He finally decided to step in.

"Alright, you two, enough. Look, Daniels, Theo is a good kid, cut her a little slack. We can let it slide as long as she promises next week will be different, right Theo?" Dori nodded in confirmation. "See? No need to call her father. Now, get to work, the both of you." The younger coach glared at the older version, and begrudgingly agreed. He walked away, towards the spot where her usual practice bag had been set up for her, along with a bucket of range balls.

"Thanks, Mardy. I know it was you who put everything up. Now go, before Sally gets upset at you for being late for your dinner date. Wish her a happy birthday, for me. I'll bring her a present next time." Dori told him, giving him a side-hug.

"Will do, kiddo. You know she doesn't need a gift from you. All you need to do is come to dinner on Sunday." He said, starting to walk away.

She waved and called back, "Wouldn't miss it." Dori turned towards Daniels relunctantly and made my way over, adjusting my glove.

"Warm up with wedges. Then irons, concentrating the most on your Five and Seven, lastly, your woods. For those, work on Three and Five. Don't. Touch. The Driver. Head down, easy swing, dont turn your body first, that's why you are hooking. " As much of a douche as this guy may be, he knows his golf. He stepped back to watch the practice swings, lingering more than he should have on her waist. Dori shivered at the almost palpable feel of his eyes on her body, like ghostly hands.

She tried to ignore the sensation and turned most of her thoughts towards the Labyrinth; the world in which she truly wants to be. Because if there was a Labyrinth, there was a Jareth. Jareth was what she truly wanted. Jareth, with the wild hair, the tough, seemingly evil countenance that draws her in and makes her want to get underneath it, see passed it. She wondered what he would be like under that shell. Would he be sweet? Passionate? Calm and quiet? What would she give to hold his hand, feel him touch her cheek, have his hand on her waist as thy danced in the Masquerade Ball. She sighed to herself. If only.

Sooner than she realized, she was done. "Go putt for one hour, and chip for another." Coach Daniels told her. She checked her watch, saw it was seven, and tried to calculate in her head. She had spaghetti sauce in the crockpot, keeping warm. It wouldn't take long to cook some noodles up, surely her father could do that on his own? No, he wouldn't be too tired, she believed. Dori's father worked at a big time construction company, and he was pretty high up on the totem pole, though she couldn't always remember what his title is exactly.

She supposed she could risk an hour, or so. "Fine." He turned and walked away without saying goodbye. "Asshole." She muttered. So, Dori went about her business, singing songs from the Labyrinth soundtrack.

Soon enough, she was bringing the clubs back into the clubhouse and storing them in the closet, near the cart garage. She passed the younger man working the register, "Bye, Hal. See you next week!" she smiled brightly.

"You most certainly will, Dori!" He winked cheekily. It was no secret that the twenty-four year old fancied Dori. He doesn't compare to Jareth. No one does. She, as always, waved off his flirting and started her trek home, though it was darker than normal.

She hated the dark, especially by herself. Not really the dark itself, but what was in the dark; the things she couldn't see, that went bump in the night. The clouds covered the moon on this night, which was kind of odd for late spring day. Odd and creepy. One thing that bothered her the most was one side of the road was a small forest, but that's what she gets when her family lives on the outskirts of the small town.

To distract herself, she started singing. She does that a lot, she noticed. And when her emotions were significantly high, she sang from the Labyrinth. "There's such a sad love, deep in your eyes." and on she went. This was her favorite song from the Labyrinth, and her favorite scene. She would give up a lot, to be able to trade places with Sarah.

By the time she got to her porch she was to the end of her song and completely wrapped up in her thoughts of Jareth. "Falling in love. As the world falls down." She walked into the kitchen, still humming the tune, her mind, still wrapped in the arms of her Goblin King, not bothering to turn on the light.

She didn't see him sitting at the table as she walked to the pantry.

She didn't hear him get up as she pulled out the box of noodles.

She didn't know he was there until he spoke.

From right behind her.

"Why are you late?"

Dori screamed and jumped, causing her to drop the pot she had pulled out. She whirled around to face her father, "Practice ran a bit late, sir," trying not to meet his eyes.

"How come?" *Uh oh.* He seemed to be in one of those moods tonight.

"Just talking to Coach Mardin about Mrs. Mardin's birthday." Please buy it. Just stop asking. Please. She started the water for the noodles.

"Yeah, he loves to talk, that one." Her father chuckled. Maybe he's in a good mood tonight. "I already ate, so I'm going to go upstairs and take a shower." He hugged Dori from the side and kissed the top of her head. "Night."

"Goodnight, sir." Dori loved her father at times like this. She listened to him trudge upstairs before deciding she wasn't really hungry tonight. She turned the burner off, dumped the water into the sink, rinsed the pot and went up the stairs to her room.

After changing into pajamas, Dori climbed into bed and started the Labyrinth over; her usual nighttime routine. Maybe I'm a little obsessed with this movie, but I can't help it. Jareth is just so wonderful. She started to doze off, dreaming about replacing Sarah in the Labyrinth, fighting her way, not to save her baby brother, but to be with the lonely Goblin King.

"THEODORA EVELYN WISEMAN!" Dori jolted up in her bed at the sound of her father's voice. She stood up just as her father came through the door, her head pounding from the blood rush.

"I just had a voice mail from Coach Daniels about you. Late every day? Back talking? INSULTING A COACH?" He pointed at her with his right hand. How could she have missed the belt in it? "How dare you disrespect me like that? How dare you embarrass me in such a way?"

Dori supposed she should have seen this coming. She shouldn't have believed Daniels would give up that chance to get her in trouble, so easily. She turned around and lifted the back of her shirt, making sure she covered her chest.

She knew what was coming.

This wasn't the first time.

But that didn't make it hurt any less.

She almost screamed when the first lash came. An icy burn, spread across her back. Tears streaming cold-hot tracks down herncheeks. More blows came. Whimpers followed every one,

Two hits. No more.

Three. Please.

Four. Let it stop.

She lost her cool at five. "THAT'S ENOUGH." She realized what she had done and her heart plummeted.

"What did you just say to me?" Her father asked, deathly quiet.

"I'm sorry, sir." Dori whimpered into the wall.

"You DO NOT tell me what to do." He hit her harder with every other word. She couldn't tell how many more she got before her legs gave out. As she was falling, her father lashed out again, this time catching her neck and face.

She hit the floor with her vision blacking out and breathless from her tears. The last thing she saw was the clock positioned at midnight. The last thought to pass through her mind, I wish....Jareth.

And the world fell.

Jareth

And the world was spinning. One minute, Jareth was sitting alone on the edge of his bed, contemplating as always, and the next time he blinks, he's sitting on a strange bed, in a strange room, staring at a strange wall. On top of that, he was dizzier than he would be if he had pirouetted in the Bog of Eternal Stench.

What in the Realms is this place? He looks around, missing the form curled on the floor. He got up tried to find a candle or torch to light. Jareth smelled salt and metal and something....something good during his search. Blood? Human blood, I think. Sniffing, he followed the stench around the tiny room until he came upon a shape on the floor. Having not been able to find a light source, he took a softball sized crystal from one of his various hidden pockets and threw it into the air. Once there, it glowed a bright but soft light. The shape was a girl.

She was curled against the wall, unconscious and trembling. Her shirt was ridden up partially in the back, and he could see blood-the blood he smelled-seeping into the purple shirt, turning it a dark red-violet. Ever the curious one, Jareth lifted up her shirt more to see the cause of the streams. He was surprised at the numerous welts, the amount of raised and red skin, and the cuts, 5, he counted, on such an innocent looking woman. What a lashing. Even he didn't have such cruel punishments for his subjects. For, no matter what the people from his kingdom, or those from neighboring kingdoms thought, he was not a heartless man and he ruled his kingdom in the best way he knew how.

Jareth felt the urge to help the young woman. Next thing he knew, he was scopping her in his arms, like he would were she his bride. One hand grazed her back and she came alive. Eyes wide and searching, arms beating at him, and she cried, "No dad, please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, no. I'm sorry, just no more, daddy. No more." She didn't seem to see Jareth, just the monstrous man in her mind.

The Goblin King's heart broke a little for the female, but he could dwell on that later. Right now, he had to calm her down for her was losing his grip. "Shh, hush, child. You are safe with me. Nothing shall hurt you." He tried to say as soothingly as he could manage while repositioning her in his arms.

The flailing stopped at the sound of his voice and her eyes focused on his face, tears still streaming down her own. He noticed the raised mark on her cheek, a red strip with a line of blood just starting to form. After a moment, her eyes, those mesmerizing, golden brown eyes that made him feel like he was drowning and burning, flashed with recognition. He was saved from his feelings by her hand on his cheek. This startled him, as he wasn't used to being touched at all, let alone so, dare he think, lovingly.

"Jareth." The beauty, for she was beautiful despite the bruise marring it, breathed. This truly shocked and confused him; she knew his name. How? "I must be dreaming." How did she know him? He shook his head, clearing it. He needed to get her to the bed, so he could see what could be done about her injuries.

He walked the few feet to the bed, and sat her on it. "Lay on your stomach, so I can look." When she didn't comply and kept staring at him, he cupped a hand in front of his mouth and blew. A fine glittery substance flew into her eyes and he caught her as she fell back. Jareth rolled her over and lifted her shirt, mindful to keep all things covered that should be covered.

He whistled lowly. Her father did a number on her. Without one of the healer goblins, he couldn't do much for her. He could clean it, and close the cuts, but they would scar; they weren't deep, he was just extremely inexperienced. He took a clean handkerchief from one of his pockets, and a shrunken crystal from another. Once he made it bigger, about the size of a golf ball, he squeezed it over the rag, like one would a sponge. Water dribbled onto the rag, and the crystal vanished, as its magic was used up.

Carefully so as not to wake her, he sat next to her on the bed. He threw his long, blond hair behind his shoulder, vowing to cut it as soon as he was in his own kingdom. Despite knowing she couldn't feel it, or was at least in too deep a slumber to do anything about it, Jareth was as tender as possible without losing thoroughness. Once that was done, he pulled out a pouch of blood powder, and dipped the tip of a long, slender finger in. When he believed it was well coated with the silvery mixture, he ran his finger over the cleanly split skin.

The magic powder did it's job, soaking up the blood and knitting the skin back together, leaving nought but half inch long lines, the color of strawberries behind. He did the same for her cheek, hoping she wouldn't be too upset about the mark. Jareth pulled the girl's shirt down, knowing the worst was taken care of, the welts would shrink by morning and go away in a day or two. The water from the crystal accelerates healing processes in goblins, so he expected it did the same thing to humans.

He looked around for a place to put himself for the time being. There was a sort of large, brightly colored, partially caved-in boulder in the corner. Deciding to try it, he lowered himself down onto it, only to sink further in. The boulder made an odd sound, like it was filled with sand and it was cushy. He squirmed a bit more, making as little noise as possible, until he got comfortable. Jareth leaned his head back into the corner, crossed his ankles and realized how tired he was.

But then his brain decided to ponder where he was. How had he come to be here? Was it the girl? A neighboring kingdom's joke or an attempt to conquer his own kingdom? The more he thought and worried, the lower his eyelids drooped. The transport here and the magic he performed fixing up the little sorceress-which she must surely be, human or not-had taken more out of him than he anticipated.

As Jareth slept, he dreamt of the girl on the bed.

Dreams he will forget upon waking.

Dreams he will have again.

Dreams he was woken from by screams.

Screams coming from the girl.

She was sitting up in bed, staring at him, screaming.

So much for sleep.

Dori

Dori was woken up by a stinging pain. She realized that she had been scratching an itch on her cheek, in the place her father's belt struck. Her father's belt. Bolting upright, partially blinded by the light coming through the curtain, the events of last night came rushing back to Dori. Falling asleep, her father yelling her name, the whipping, passing out, Jareth carrying her-wait, Jareth? Where did he come from in all of that? It must have been because I fell asleep to the Labyrinth. She flopped down on to her stomach, preparing to sleep longer, when she heard it.

A sound like someone shifted in her bean bag chair.

Dori's eyes snapped open and she sat up.

She looked in the corner, hoping for it to be empty.

She saw him.

And she screamed.

Which woke him up.

He jumped, looking around for a moment disoriented. Dori scrambled back on her bed, but she went a little too far and tumbled down to the floor on the other side. "Ow." That was smooth.

Sitting up and rubbing the back of her head, Dori peeked over her bed at the man who looked like the man she loved. He was sitting there, and...chuckling? He was laughing at her. "Are you alright?" Cosplay Man asked.

"Who are you and why are you in my room?" She stood, ignoring the slight burning in her back, keeping the bed in between the costumed stranger and herself.

"My name is Jareth, though, you knew that, didn't you? You called me by such, last night and claimed to have been dreaming." He looked at her. "How did you know my name? And another question: how did you bring me here?"

He's out of his mind. "I didn't bring you anywhere. Jareth isn't real. Now I'd appreciate it if you'd leave." He tried to stand up as well, but couldn't seem to maneuver himself out of the bean bag.

"I'd gladly go home, if my Shifting worked or if this blasted boulder would turn me loose. Now, Little Sorceress, would you be so kind as to help me up?" He asked her, with his hand raised imploringly.

"Try anything funny, and you will need to sit down to pee for the rest of your life, got it?" When he agreed, slowly, cautiously, Dori walked over to the man and gripped his hand.

The moment his skin touched hers, he pushed the events of last night into her mind. She saw him in his bedroom in the castle, walking to his bed. He sat for a moment and looked so sad it made her heart ache, then the next moment, he disappeared. When she saw him next, he was in her dark bedroom, searching for something when he stumbled upon her curled on the floor. She watched him calm her, and heal her and go to sleep.

Dori blinked again, she was standing in her room, still holding the hand of the Goblin King. Then it hit her, she was holding the hand of the Goblin King. It had never been harder for her to resist the urge to scream like a fangirl. She dropped his hand. "It's you. Like, it's really, actually, properly you. Holy shit how can you be here? You're not supposed to be real. You're a movie character, for crying out loud!" Dori started pacing. "I am so lucky it's Saturday." Saturday means her father left at four in the morning for his weekend fishing trip.

All the while she was panicking, she was aware of the Goblin King watching her. She stopped when she heard his stomach growled, demanding it be fed, which in turn, made hers sound off as well. Food was real, food was something she could deal with. Over food, they could figure out what to do.

"Come on. Let's go get something to eat." She walked around him to the door. "Right this way, Your Highness."

"Call me, Jareth." He said as he followed her down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Alright. My name is Dori." Dori opened the fridge, What do Goblins eat? He looks human enough.

"Dori? That's not a good name. Surely, it's short for something." He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.

She gaped at him. "Please, tell us how you feel, don't spare my feelings or anything." She muttered sarcastically. Seeing the leftover spaghetti sauce in the fridge, Dori pulls it out. "My real name is Theodora, if you must know." Starting the water for the noodles, she puts the bowl of sauce in the microwave.

"Now that is much better. Such a beautiful name; it suits you, Little Witch." Jareth smiled and Dori blushed a little.

"Thanks. I'm not a witch, though. I know for a fact that I haven't got any powers." Dori wished all the time for Jareth to be real, spending hours of her life during the ages eight, nine and ten trying to will him into being. Why should last night have been any different?

"Oh, but I believe you are. You see, nothing but powerful magic from a powerful witch could have brought me here." His accent, the oddest mix of English and Scottish, wrapped around her in an intoxicating manner. I don't know if I want to help him get home or lock him in my room. She chastised herself for that thought.

"If you say so." Dori buttered some bread and set it on his plate of spaghetti. "Take this. What do you want to drink? Milk, water, Dr. Pepper?" Dr. Pepper at ten in the morning? Seems legit.

"Water works just as well, thank you." He looked at his plate skeptically. "What is this?"

"You don't know what pasta is? Really?" Dori set his water and her soda on the table, then dragged the curious king to the table by his sleeve and went to retrieve her own plate. She came back in time to see Jareth drop a marble sized crystal into his water, causing it to turn a deep red. "Did you just turn water into wine?" She giggled a bit to herself. So original.

"Yes. It's quite good, actually. Would you like to try to some?" He held the glass out to her.

"Thanks, but no thanks, it's too early for this stuff. You take mine." She took the glass from him and shivered when his skin touched hers. She gave him her own glass and went to get more of the beloved soft drink.

He was eating when she got back. "This is lovely. Thank you."

"You're welcome, but you're doing it wrong. You gotta eat it like this, it's much better." She twirled a large bundle of saucy noodles onto her fork and folded her bread around it. Showing it off to the ever-so-skeptic goblin, she took a bite. "Tada!"

Dori watched him copy her, watched his face light up when he found that he liked it. She pretty much had it figured out, how he got here. It was pretty obvious, she couldn't see why she hadn't thought of it before: her wish. A wish at midnight. It happened in the movie, so, she supposed, why not? I should tell Jareth. She looked up at the man in time to see him take his first ever sip of the carbonated chemicals, known as Dr. Pepper. She nearly choked on her small mouthful of food, laughing at the face he made when the carbonation hit the back of his throat, burning his nose and making his eyes water. It was a feeling known all too well.

Really looking at this man, he looked younger than David Bowie made him look in the movie. He did still seem to like black and dark blue, but he lacked the makeup and a few wrinkles, which Dori didn't mind. His hair was still wild, and she wanted to play with it. Bad Dori. What would he think if he could hear your thoughts? She didn't want to find out. His teeth were a bit straighter and whiter. All in all, he was more handsome. But while he looked younger in the face, the age was in his eyes. A sort of weary sadness that she always suspected would be there. Now that it was, she wished it weren't.

She watched him finish his food and tentatively take another drink of soda. There was less sputterin this time. She pushed all thoughts of his magic arrival and focused on her pasta. Food was real, food was normal. Food was something she could handle.

And for just a moment, Jareth seemed normal, too.

Jareth

Jareth was fascinated by many things in this world, but fascinated he may be, he knew he needed to get home. He watched the Little Sorceress clean the dishes they had used in silence. Why couldn't he Shift home? He was still connected to the Labyrinth. He could feel it in the back of his mind; that niggling, buzzing that was the sentience of his land. Now how would he get back to it?

"Have you actually tried to...poof back home?" Theodora broke the somewhat silent air apart with her question.

"Have I tried to...what?" What in the name of the Realms does poof mean?

"Have you tried to, you know, poof?" She opened and closed her fingers, as if that would help him understand better. This girl was odd, and for him to think so was definitely something, for he ruled a land of magic folk. Theodora sighed at his strange look, "I mean, have you tried to use your teleport power? You know, just going home."

It dawned on him, "Oh. Shifting. No. There's something blocking me from home. I can feel it, you see. The Labyrinth, it's in my head." He tapped the back of his skull. "Right here, all the time. I can feel every disturbance, every change in the maze, and every person who enters or exits. It's even possible to change it myself with a single thought." Jareth's eyes misted over a bit, thinking of his beloved home, and he leaned back against the counter. He grew quite sad, suddenly. "Lately, though, the connection has been painful; a constant ache in my head. You see, the Labyrinth is dying. We've tried everything, from repairing what has broken or deteriorated to replacing things that so much as looked like it would fall. But, last night and this morning, my bond with my Kingdom has been...numbed. Blocked off, partially anyways, just enough, to where I can't enter it."

All the while he spoke, she watched him, seemingly enthralled by his every word. Her eyes teared up and she blinked rapidly. " I'm so sorry, truly I am. But, I have to ask; why are telling me all of that? I know I asked about trying, but everything else...I'm a virtual stranger. Why do you trust me so?"

That puzzled Jareth, for only a trusted few were aware of the state of his land. He crossed his arms and thought for a moment, but he could come up with nothing plausible. "I haven't a clue. I just feel as though I can." And if that's the case, then you must really be something special. He would find out what.

Theodora nodded and sniffed. "Well, all that aside, we should try to test your, uh, Shifting power."

"Explain yourself."

She looked a little nervous. "Well, you could try to Shift home and see what happens. Then, if that doesn't work, you could try to Shift other places." She paused. "You can Shift other places, can't you?"

He laughed. "Theodora, you wound my pride. Of course I can!" He refused to call her Dori; he thought it was a comoletely ridiculous name for a woman.

The woman in question grumbled at her full name, but shook it off quickly. "Alright, so try it. Home first. Wait! Lets go to the living room. I don't want to break the kitchen, if something bad happens." She grabbed his arm and lead him threw a door and down a small corridor.

Jareth watched her work, again, as she took the seats of the long chairs and piled them on the floor. "Stand on these, in the middle." When he moved as directed, she told him to proceed.

The Goblin King closed his eyes and Theodora became quiet-for that he was thankful. He could hear her breathing, slow and calm and it reassured him, for if he was honest, he was a bit unnerved. He'd never been unsure of his ability before. His being reached for the Labyrinth in his mind, gripped it, as best he could, pushing passed the numbness.

Then, he could feel it; that feeling of sliding sideways, being in between everything.

He could feel the space between the earth and the air.

The gap between the magic and not.

The places in between the air itself.

He was home. He could feel it. And it hurt him, hurt his head and made him want to cry out.

Then he was falling. Falling through air, through the magic and the not, through the earth and the air. Falling for what felt like eternity.

Finally, he fell on the pile of cushions that the Little Witch had wisely placed beneath him. The sudden stop knocked him breathless, nonetheless and the pain in his head throbbed as he clutched it, trying and failing to breathe.

"Jareth!" Just like that, her voice cut through the air and it rushed into his starved lungs with a noisy gasp. She was beside him in the next instant, turning his face towards her. The moment her skin touched his, the pain in his head vanished as though it hadn't been there at all. "Hey, hey, look at me. Look at my eyes. Look in my eyes and breathe. In and out, slowly." She coached him and stroked his face as he caught his breath.

Looking at Theodora's eyes, those eyes that burned him and drowned him and made him lose his train of thought, he thought about the pain he had felt. He tried to dechiper the roaring he had heard amidst the torment.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. How could he have been such a fool? It was so simple. The Labyrinth didn't want him back. So simple yet so painful, enough to bring the already fragile mask of the stoic King down another agonizing inch. His eyes and nose burned with the tears he ached to shed at the thought of his beloved home, his one refuge, the only thing he knew better than himself, rejecting him. Why? He asked himself. Why can't I just go home?

Jareth sat up, breathing almost normally, allowing Theodora to help him. Taking one last deep breath, he wiped his eyes roughly, shoved away his crippling abandonment and assured the Little Witch he was fine.

"What happened? You were standing there and then you were gone. Next thing I know, you were falling from the damn ceiling, choking! Don't scare me like that again!" She looked genuinely shaken.

So he told her. He'd only known her for a day, but he always seemed to find himself telling her more information that necessary. As he told her, she scooted next to him and held his cool hand in both of her own. Not speaking as he told of the pain he felt, that he now knew to be the Labyrinth's anger at him, just listening, occasionally squeezing his fingers when she knew it to be too much.

He was grateful for her. So very grateful for this girl, so young yet seeming so old, that he had known for a day.

He was grateful for this...friend.

Dori

Dori's heart broke listening to Jareth tell his story. She could hear the sorrow in his voice as he spoke. He really had scared her with that little stunt; she saw him disappear, as though he was just wiped away, as if by the brush of a massive dust cloth. He was gone for about ten whole seconds before she saw him fall from the rather high ceiling. He didn't seem to just fall from the ceiling, but it had seemed to spit him out, like a drop of water from a faucet.

Hearing the almost tangible anguish as he described the pain he felt while Shifting home, she wanted nothing more to hug him. Dori restrained herself from acting upon that thought, telling herself that would be creepy and he wouldn't react well. So, instead, she contented herself with leaning on his shoulder and holding his abnormally cooler hand, trying to calm and reassure him. This she did while holding in the tears that had formed and threatened to spill over at any point.

When Jareth finished, he drew a slightly shuddering breath, wiped a hand down his face and composed himself. Then, they were sat in a warm, comforting silence a top a layer of couch cushions. Dori was the first to break the ice. "I think I know how you got here."

Jareth looked at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. "How?"

She took a deep breath. "Last night, when my dad was, um, delivering, my punishment," the word was spoken with hate, disgust and embarrassment, "I was just in so much pain, it hurt so badly that I couldn't think straight. I was just so tired, he'd woken me up, you see, and I told him to stop. It didn't work, it just made it worse and he went mad." Her voice broke a little; she hated talking about times like that. More than anything, she loathed her father. Dori couldn't stand him for being the way he was, she despised him because she couldn't fully hate him. She absolutely hated herself because, despite all the times he 'punished' her, she still loved him; he was her father.

Jareth, whose hand was still held in her own, gave her a gentle squeeze. It was his way of returning what she had given him. This Jareth is turning out to be so much better than movie him. "One of his swings hit me in the face, and the pain became too much. I could feel myself begin to black out and the last thing I remember is seeing the clock, with its hands on midnight. Right before I blacked out, though, I...I made a wish."

He tensed and Dori braced herself for his rage, she was sure he would hate her now. "What did you wish for? What were your exact words; can you recall them?" He pushed himself away from her and stared at her eyes. Her hands missed the weight and growing warmth of his.

She thought back, trying to remember what stupid, blessed words she had said. Nothing came. Another idea did come to her, though. Man, call me butter, 'cause I am on a roll. Realizing how that sounded, she vowed never to think or say it again. "No, but, I could show you, couldn't I? Like you showed me?" She tentatively held her hand out to him.

He sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair. "I suppose, but rifling through people's minds isn't easy, even if they are wide open and not resistant in any way." He grabbed both of her hands, shocking her, as she shivered again at the feeling of his skin, already cool once more.

She nodded, and closed her eyes, deciding to make sure that she eased his way as much as possible. In her mind, she felt a movement and got a sense of....Jareth. So sad and lonely, imposing and regal, loving and feared. It was a strange and wonderful feeling. Dori cleared her thoughts of everything but last night and tried to push every single detail towards him.

He gasped and the grip on her hand tightened as he cried out a small "Ah!" She was going to ask what was wrong when she felt it. A roaring presence in her mind, over whelming Jareth's presence completely, that dug through everything in her head. It caused every memory she had to flash through her mind. Along with every feeling that came with them.

All the good.

Crawling into her parents' bed during a thunder storm. Safety.

At the park with her parents on her birthday. Love.

Every birthday. Joy.

Every first day of school. Adventure.

Her first golf club set. Wonder.

Her first sleepover. Excitement.

Meeting Mardy and his wife. Acceptance.

The movie Jareth. Hope. A new type of love.

The real Jareth. Attraction. Wonder. Excitement.

It brought tears to her eyes, remembering how happy they were. Some she laughed at, and she could sense Jareth chuckling at a younger Dori, dressing up, playing, singing Disney songs. She knew what was coming, though. With all her might, she tried to block it out, not wanting this presence, or Jareth for that matter to see the memories. All the bad.

Her parents arguing. Sadness.

The first time her father hit her mother. Confusion.

The first time her father hit her. Terror. Pain.

Every time he hit either of them. Terror. Pain.

Her mother leaving them for another man, when Dori was seven. Confusion. Heart wrenching sorrow.

All the pressure her father put on her after her mother leaving. Inadequacy.

Every punishment after that. Budding hate. Pain.

Kids laughing at her for being smart, for loving a movie too much, for her mother's abandonment. Inadequacy. Pain. Acceptance.

Tears poured down Dori's face, from her closed eyes.. These were her darkest moments, forcibly laid out for Jareth to see, which she was sure he did. She was in pain, emotionally and physically, as every emotion and every blow she ever took was thrown upon her a second time. Her shaking hands gripped Jareth's so hard she was positive they were broken, as his were doing the same.

Dori opened her eyes but couldn't see past the layer of salt water that had formed under her lids. She blinked hard several times as the onslaught continued, though it was slowing, trickling towards present day. The Goblin King had his eyes screwed shut, his jaw clenched and he was breathing heavily through his teeth. Tears were trickling down, slowly, like he was fighting them.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the memory of what happened last night played. She could hear her father scream her full name and winced. Her eyes closed again as his rage came full force, she could feel every blow again and her still sore back ached. Watching it, even in her mind, was like an out of body experience; she could see her back splitting in places, see herself yell out. The look that came to her father's eyes terrified her. Memory-Dori was struck in the face and fell, and as she fell, Dori could hear her last thought. Her unfinished wish for Jareth echoed around the room like a bell.

She expected to go back to sitting with Jareth in the living room. Instead something shocked her, the memory continued from a different perspective. The moment her father shut her door, the air above her bed rippled and Jareth appeared. She watched him search and find her, she was startled by her own reaction to being picked up. Dori's breath caught at the care and decency he showed her as he healed her. No wonder I wasn't bleeding this morning. Jareth went to sleep and they found themselves, at last, in the midst of all cushions.

She released one of his hands, reached up and touched her cheek where she now knew the scar to be and sure enough, she could feel the thin raised line. Opening her eyes, she saw Jareth looking at the window, taking deep breaths. She placed her free hand on his shoulder to get his attention and when he looked at her, not caring about the consequences, she pulled him towards her and threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

He tensed, not expecting the close contact. "Thank you." She whispered it into his shoulder. "Thank you, so much." He didn't really relax, but he placed his hands on her back and gave her a few pats.

"It's quite alright. I wouldn't be able to call myself a man if I had left you there." Jareth sounded like he had regained his composure well enough.

She let go, seemingly to his relief. "Well, you can imagine how grateful I am." She ran a hand through her hair, and wincing at the knots. She groaned, "Oh, I must look so bad, right now." She laughed at herself. "Definitely shower time."

She stood up and stretched. How long have we been sitting here? Glancing at the clock, she was surprised. It was two in the afternoon. Three hours? Holy shit. "Do you want to help me put the cushions back?" She started setting them back on the couches.

Jareth seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in and rushed to copy her placements. Once that was done, she turned on the television. And showed him how to work the remote. "Um, well, there's that, there's books in my room to read if you want. Drinks in the kitchen. If you need anything else, I'll be in the bathroom. It'll be the door with music behind it." Jareth nodded and assured her he'd be fine.

With that, Dori headed upstairs to her room. She gathered some shorts, a black shirt, the necessary undergarments and her Labyrinth soundtrack. She couldn't help but giggle at old habits. When she got to the bathroom, she put the CD in her CD player, turned it on and set a towel over it to keep the steam out of its inner workings.

Getting undressed, she paused and looked at her back, as best she could, in the mirror. Her back was covered in rapidly fading, thick red lines and about twelve thin red ones like the one on her face. She didn't mind them. It's not like people will see them, but how will I hide this one? Or explain it? Dori sighed and turned on the water and let it heat up as she brushed her hair. She climbed in the shower, hoping Jareth would be alright by himself and everything else would work out.

Jareth

Jareth could hear the muffled noise of the water and music from Theodora bathing upstairs. He tried not to think about it too much; a man he may be, but he was raised a gentleman. He stared at the box in front of him and wondered about the show he was watching. Three men were surrounded by red-coated guards, being accused of bewitching the Queen. And they had the oddest names; Grandad, Sandshoes, and....Chinny? I can understand Grandad, and good Gollum, that man has a chin on him, but what in the Bog are sandshoes?

He sighed and got up, officially ignoring the men talking about counting children, whatever that meant. He walked to the window, and looked out at self-propelled carriages riding on the street. A world without magic is a strange one. Sure, there were Goblins who couldn't Shift, but even those rode some form of equine or a cart or carriage.

That caused his thoughts to, unwillingly, shift to his home. Why wasn't he able to get back? He decided to try to talk to the Labyrinth, for it was, after all, sentient being. Many, in fact. All of those who died in the Labyrinth became one with the consciousness of their home. He knew it was possible to speak with it, but he wasn't sure it would speak to him.

As he lay down on the couch, Jareth's mind reached for the numbed presence of his home as he lay down on the couch. He felt his physical body become catatonic. How does one start a conversation with an angry centuries old mind?

Hello, old friend. Pleasantly, he supposed.

You are no longer a friend of ours, child of the Castle. The voice of the Labyrinth was the voice of thousands; male, female and child alike. The deep, soul shaking sound of it caused his arms to erupt in goose flesh.

Of course, I am. Why do you speak such nonsense? His whole existence revolved around that blasted maze, what in the blazes was happening?

You once were our dearest friend and caretaker, but you have changed. The state of your well being has deteriorated drastically. So much so, we have started to die; as you wish to do yourself.

This threw Jareth for a loop. It knew? Of course it knew. The damned thing was in his head. Was no thought sacred?

We only interfere with your mind when it is necessary for the survival of the Land and those who live within us. Those under your care, child.

How is this relevant to the situation at hand? Why do you keep me from coming home? I do not belong in this world, you know that as well as I.

You feel alone, though you are constantly surrounded. You wish to die, child of the castle. Every night, you sit wishing for the end to be near, just as you were on the night you were sent away. This, your slow withering away has, likewise, caused us to die; we are linked. For this you have become an enemy.

Jareth was absolutely stunned and he felt betrayed. It had sent him away? He asked the Labyrinth as much.

Not quite. We have searched for centuries for someone suitable to take your place. None have been found. So, upon much deliberation, we took to searching far and wide, across the dimensions, for a mate for you. Someone who would make you better, make you wish to live and at the same time better our Land. We found her, and when she called to you, we allowed her magic to whisk you away.

You tried to set me up? Not even gone twenty-four hours and Jareth was already sounding human.

That is one way to put it. We believe she is the best choice for you. We have seen it and so have you. You have dreamt of your life with her, just last night, we can see it in your mind.

Last night? He couldn't remember his dreams from last night. Then he felt the vast consciousness of the Labyrinth plunging through his mind, just like it had to Theodora earlier. It dredged up forgotten images from the night before.

Jareth saw himself and Theodora laughing while rebuilding the Labyrinth, they were the only thing clear against a fuzzy back ground. Then they were meeting the Goblins who lived in the city and the Little Witch learning to control magic. He saw her helping to plan war moves, and giving speeches, looking so incredibly regal. She was truly beautiful. The next thing he saw was their wedding, the two of them at the alter, then she was pregnant, stomach swollen with his child. There were arguments and make ups, tears and smiles, storming off and hugs. The last image he saw was an image of Theodora laying asleep in a large bed, next to him, a newborn baby between them. It brought tears to his eyes, the imagine of the three of them.

Unmarried Goblins, the night after meeting a compatible mate, have dreams, visions, general glimpses of what their future together would be like. Not even the Goblin king himself knows what causes this. It is believed that it's the magic of those long since joined the Labyrinth consciousness helping the loved ones they left behind lead a good life. The visions Jareth had about Theodora were the first he'd ever had.

He pushed the feelings caused by the visions aside. Why her?

An enemy of ours came from her world. Not to mention, the woman is the first in her line to be born with magic. She is kind hearted, this you know first hand; she could have thrown you out, yet she fed, befriended and comforted you. Theodora would be good for us all.

What if I don't want her that way? I've known her for all of about sixteen hours. We're still ten hours short of a full day! He sighed. All of this is beside the point. What do I need to do to come home? Please, tell me there is a way. His mental voice broke.

The weight of the Labyrinth's own sigh set heavily on him. If you do not wish to marry her, stay with the girl, be her friend. Protect her. She will need it. If any more of her magic should surface, help her with it. We do not expect too much more, for now; the extent of her magic rests on her connection to our Land.

This confused him; she shouldn't be connected to the Labyrinth. What do you mean?

Time will tell. For now, you need to return to Theodora. She is getting worried about you; she cares for you a great deal already. The rest is up to you. When you are ready, you will find yourself home. Do not worry about the kingdom, we have halted it's decay for now. Good luck, child.

Jareth felt the connection fade and he started to come to. His eyes opened to find an upside down Theodora sitting near his head, staring at the vision box, one hand running through his hair and the other to her mouth. He wondered how long he'd been entranced. Judging by the fact that her hair was completely dry and the empty plate in front of her on the table, it was quite a while. His body tingled with the feeling of magic that wasn't his own, but was familiar all the same. It was coming from the little witch.

She was healing him. Unconsciously, but, she was all the same.

While he was looking at her, she glanced at him, went back to watching the box and did a double take. Her hand paused in his hair for a moment before she yanked it away. The tingle of her magic faded away. "You're up! You sleep like the dead. I was starting to worry you actually were."

"No need." He cleared his throat. "I was talking. Nothing to worry about." He sat up, running a hand through his hair and winced at the feel of it. Too bad my magic can't help with basic hygiene. "Um, would it be possible for I to bathe? I feel rather detestable at the moment."

Theodora gaped a moment before she recovered. "Oh, yeah, of course. Come on, I'll show you how to work the shower. Clothes. You need new clothes, too. I'll get you some from my dad's room." She seemed to ramble as she led him to the bathroom upstairs, as if the idea of a strange king bathing in her house was disconcerting. He chuckled.

She stopped, suddenly, at a dark room and flicked on the light. He blinked at the harshness of it as showed him how to adjust the water and stalked off.

He began to unbutton his shirt, just noticing the blood on his sleeves from healing Theodora's back. He threw his shirt in the washbasin and took comb from the counter top and ran it through his hair, wincing at the knots. He was taking off his belt when he heard a gasp and a slap from behind him.

Jareth turned around and couldn't help but laugh at the scene before him. The Little Sorceress was standing in the doorway clutching a drying cloth and what was, presumably, his clothes to her chest with one hand slapped over her eyes. Her face was beet red under that hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were undressing; the door was still open."

"It's quite alright." He laughed a bit more. He had half a mind to torment the poor girl, further. He took a moment to study the girl, woman, really, as he pulled the pile from, her arms. She looked the same as she had in his Mating-mares, but a bit younger. There was a newness to her now, she lacked a certain experienced glow. Despite that, he still found Theodora beautiful.

He pushed the thoughts aside. Friends, he reminded himself. This is far too early for things such as that. Then, why was it so easy for him? He thanked her, ruffled her hair and he shut the door.

The Goblin King turned on the water, finished undressing and climbed in. He proceeded to focus all his thoughts on cleaning himself, rather than dragging the innocent eyed witch back in here and asking her to do it for him.

Damn that Labyrinth for putting such ideas in my mind. He needed to think of other things.

Bog of Eternal Stench.

Female Hobgoblins

The Queen of the neighboring kingdom of Gargoyles coming onto him at the last Samhain Bonfire.

The King of the neighboring kingdom of Gargoyles coming onto him at the last Samhain Bonfire.

That one worked for him.

Once he was clean, he dried himself off and dressed. He went downstairs and found Theodora putting some sort of food stuffs together. He liked watching her work, seeing her so at home, while he was so out of his element. It was a foreign feeling to him. She noticed him and handed him a plate. "Here. It's called a sandwich. A ham sandwich, to be specific, with mayonnaise, lettuce, tomato, and pepper jack cheese and if you make one joke, I will castrate you." She chuckled to herself.

"Thank you?" How, in the Bog, was he supposed to eat this?

She must have seen his confusion as she finished making her own. "You eat it like this. With your hands, no silverware needed, Your Majesty." She spoke his title jokingly as she demonstrated.

He joked back, "Quite barbaric, Little Witch, how ever will I manage?"

She chuckled and they ate in silence. When they were done, Jareth took their plates to the sink and ran a hand through his semi wet hair."Ouch!" He cried, as his hand snagged a knot. Theodora had seen and told him to go sit on the floor in front of the couch as she went upstairs for a moment.

When she came back down, she had a brush and a bottle in her hands. She climbed over the back of the couch and sat cross legged behind him. Soon, he was being sprayed with something that smelled vaguely of watermelons. "This is a detangler spray, it'll make the knots easier to brush out. Generally, they use this for small children, but I love the stuff." She finished with that and began to brush through his hair.

The knots really did come out easier as the sensation made him close his eyes. This hadn't been done for him since he was a child. He didn't realize how much he missed it. They sat in another comfortable silence, which neither minded, it seemed to be just how they were. When she was done she rolled off the couch next to him in a graceful heap, stood and stretched with a loud groan. "Man, it's only seven and I'm so tired. What the hell?"

Jareth suspected it was all the magic she had, unknowingly, done today. He stood up, grabbed all of his long hair in one hand and shook his head vigorously. When his hair was properly messy and standing, he stopped and Theodora was staring at him, holding in laughter judging by the trembling of her shoulders.

"What? I don't like the feeling of my hair stuck to my head. I haven't since I was little boy." She burst into full blown laughter and he pointed at her chuckling. Her laugh was contagious. "No, stop it. You stop laughing, right now, or you will be sorry." She closed her mouth and tried to stop, but the giggles burst forth once more.

So, he started to chase her.

Theodora ran, screaming apologies and laughing.

He ran after her, letting himself fall behind and catch up, only to fall behind again.

Jareth hadn't had this much fun in ages.