Let Me Rule You

by janaee

Summary:

She never imagined that she would once again be drawn into the enchanting world of fictional characters, a place she had not ventured into for many years. However, on a warm summer Saturday night, everything changed as she found herself captivated by the enigmatic goblin king, Jareth, while watching the mesmerizing film "Labyrinth."

Notes:

Word count: 5.4k (20 pages)
Warnings for this chapter: swearing and arguments
Key: Y/n= your name | L/n= last name | M/n= mom name | d/n= dog name

Chapter 1: Entranced

 

 

 For visual purposes, here is the house you're living in

 

 

The dusk was calm, and the only movements were the swaying of the trees in the warm midsummer breeze. The dark green leaves of the trees fell sporadically on the fresh pavement street of Evansville. It is a typical upper-middle-class suburb located on the outskirts of the great city, beyond its beautiful lake. During the summer, Evansville is usually bustling with life. Kids can be seen racing on their scooters while their parents watch from the front lawn of their craftsman and single-family-style homes. Teenagers speed down Sherhigh Avenue by the Lakefront with their windows rolled down, blasting music and singing the lyrics. The beaches are always full from morning till nearly midnight.

Nestled close to the tranquil lakefront was Nordstin Street, which exuded an air of a close community feel. From afternoon till night, the neighborhood was painted with playful children and their parents' laughter on their lawns, the jingle of ice cream trucks, and frequent splashes from small backyard pools.

But once dusk faded it was different. The winds picked up abruptly around four thirty and leaves started dancing in a choreographed frenzy while flower petals broke free from their delicate confines. The windows of these sturdy homes rattled, adding a discordant note to the chaos. The tides of the lake were more than violent, threatening to engulf anything in their path. The crashing waves against the cluster of boulders are reminiscent of clashing symbols. 

In the heart of Nordstin, a grand single-family home exudes warmth and elegance. The gray fiber cement exterior, adorned with white accents, perfectly complements the intricately decorated gray brick roof. The beautiful porch is a work of art, supported by sturdy white stone pillars, making it both practical and stunning.

In the vast living room downstairs, an eighteen-year-old, Y/n,  lounged on the cream sectional sofa, surrounded by plush beige pillows of varying textures. With one pillow snug against her torso, she tuned into the news forecast, her gaze fixed on the screen as she observed the latest updates.

The male news reporter's voice filled the room, his words a solemn warning. "The winds are blowing at 26 miles per hour," he announced, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. "It's best to stay home if you don't need to be outside, especially away from water." 

Suddenly, a harsh voice from the kitchen shatters the tranquility, disrupting Y/n's peace of mind.

Y/n’s mother, m/n, walked urgently from the kitchen and halted at the entrance of the living room, wearing an unpleasant expression. She holds a meticulously cleaned empty Tupperware container in her left hand. 

“Y/n,  did you eat the last of the lasagna?” She asked, shaking the container so it was brought to Y/n’s attention. 

Y/n looked over at her displeased mother and replied dryly, "Yeah."

Her mother gives her a repulsed look, “Why? What makes you think it’s okay to eat up everything in this house and not leave anything left for anyone?” 

Y/n gave her a look of offense, sitting up from her leisure posture, her voice remained level, “Those were the only leftovers I ate. And you told me that I could  help myself to whatever I wanted today.”  

“That doesn’t mean you eat a whole thing of lasagna, Y/n. You can’t always think about yourself!” 

“It wasn’t even half of a container mom, relax.” 

“Don’t tell me to relax. I know what was in there.”

“Can you please stop yelling?” 

“I’m not yelling! This is how I talk.”

Already feeling fatigued from the ongoing conversation, Y/n released a small, exhausted sigh, grabbed the remote, and switched from the news channel in search of something else to ease her mind.

However, the fuming woman continued, “You could’ve called me asking if you could save me some because that is a lot for one person.”

“It wasn’t.” Y/n had completely given up.

“Okay, Y/n,” m/n scoffed, walking back into the kitchen, “This is ridiculous, you think about nobody else but yourself.  Your dad and I are already paying for your college, and the least you can do is not act selfish all the time!”

Y/n turned up the volume of the television, finally finding a show that piqued her interest. Unfortunately, she could still hear the immature mutters of her mother’s complaints.

“It’s all about Y/n, Y/n, Y/n…never thinking about anyone else…that’s sad…this is ridiculous!...eat something healthy…never seen anything like it…eighteen years old…”

“So fucking extra,” Y/n huffed, turning down the volume of the television. She throws the pillow from where it landed with the other pile of pillows on the couch and walks up to her room, considering watching a movie there instead. Maybe she’ll Facetime her friend to vent about how unbearable her mom was acting again. 

It wasn't uncommon for Y/n and her mother to engage in disputes, which seemed to arise almost daily, creating an atmosphere of constant tension. By now, Y/n was used to it, maintaining a more composed demeanor. However, there are times when she'll mirror or even exceed her mother's outbursts. Their relationship wasn't entirely negative, but it was far from fulfilling. As for her father, Y/n's connection with him was characterized by neutrality with a more manageable dynamic. He was currently on a trip with her uncle and a few friends at Turks & Caicos and won’t be back for another five days.

Y/n walked into her room, paying no attention to the insistent buzzing of her phone on her eider white desk. She sank into her plush queen-sized bed, surrounded by a sea of pillows and stuffed animals, and disappeared under the soft covers, letting out a long sigh of satisfaction.

She didn't want to get too hot under the covers in her oversized hoodie, so she shifted to a more upright position, reached under a nearby pillow, retrieved the remote, and switched on the television. The clock on the top right-hand corner of the starting page displayed 9:45 pm. She then clicked on one of the streaming apps and started browsing through the movies, uncertain of her current mood.

Y/n, with a deep appreciation for classic films, gravitated towards the 80s-90s subcategory. The screen was filled with a vibrant array of movie covers competing for her attention. As she scrolled through the seemingly endless list of movies, Y/n's eyes eagerly scanned the colorful and nostalgic offerings.

She scrolled through rows and rows of movies of all kinds, eventually getting bored and heading over to the sidebar for a better selection. There, subcategories of the 80s and 90s movies appeared: Action, Romance, Documentary, thriller…

Fantasy.

It has been a while since Y/n watched any fantasy-related films, especially older ones with effects that she found to be somewhat uncoordinated and eerie. However, curiosity got the best of her, so she clicked on it, and a series of other subcategories dropped down: Animation, Fairy Tale, Steampunk, Vampires...

Cult films.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at the name, “Cult?” she whispered as if she was sounding it out for the first time.

As she clicked on the remote, a rush of warmth and excitement filled her chest. Her eyes eagerly scanned the screen, searching for a familiar movie. Despite having watched The Neverending Story countless times, she scrolled past it along with other movies like The Dark Crystal, Short Circuit, Big Trouble in Little China, and The Goonies. 

Yet, an inexplicable urge drove her to keep searching. After a few more minutes, she suddenly paused, as if an unseen force prevented her thumb from clicking the arrow button, and her gaze settled on a movie she had never come across before.

Jim Henson’s Labyrinth.

Y/n felt an overwhelming and unexplainable sensation coursing through her body as she gazed at the movie cover and its title. It seemed to evoke a powerful wave of nostalgia, captivating her as she fixed her eyes on the glowing screen.

She clicked on the movie, reading its summary.

“Sixteen-year-old Sarah is given thirteen hours to solve a labyrinth and rescue her baby brother Toby when her wish for him to be taken away is granted by the Goblin King Jareth.”

“Poor girl,” Y/n commented as she pressed play, where the credits roll while a white barn owl flies around. Her dog, D/n, shoved the door open with their nose and climbed into bed with her, lying at her legs.

Y/n was captivated by the film's cinematic elements and grainy aesthetic. In particular, she found the character Sarah Williams, to be incredibly gorgeous. Despite her beauty and gentle appearance, Y/n observed that Sarah's behavior didn't align, from her furious stomping into the house to her tendency to catastrophize minor inconveniences. 

Y/n grimaced at the first appearance of the goblins, all jumbled up as they awoke from their slumber. Their raspy and grating voices matched their grotesque appearances.  When they emerged in the bedroom after Sarah's brother went missing, they appeared in various parts of the room--- under the bedsheets, inside closets, behind the door. Sarah looked around frantically, unable to catch a break. Then, suddenly, the same white barn owl from the movie's beginning barges into the room through the balcony doors and lunges at Sarah. Startled, Sarah shields her eyes, and then a human shadow emerges at Sarah's feet.

The once barn owl had been mystically transformed into a human being. Y/n took in his lithe stature, which stood in a way that excluded flamboyance and regal confidence. His long, dark, and dramatic coat, adorned with intricate designs and embellishments, billowed in the wind as he made his captivating presence known on screen.

"You're him, aren't you? You're the Goblin King." 

The Goblin King tilts his head, offering Sarah a proud smirk. Y/n couldn't help but notice his untamed, tousled blond locks that framed his face, enhancing his unconventional and otherworldly allure.

"Sarah…go back to your room. Play with your toys and your costumes. Forget about the baby."

His voice flowed like honey, smooth and melodious. Y/n had heard that voice before, possessed by others, yet the Goblin King made it uniquely captivating with its rich, velvety timbre.

"I've brought you a gift."

"It's a crystal, nothing more."

The Goblin King outstretched his gloved hand, and a translucent ball appeared out of thin air. Y/n's eyebrows raised in awe as he effortlessly juggled it about his hands in a way she'd never seen before. It rolled from one hand to another, from his fingertips to the palm of his hand. 

"But if you turn it this way and look into it, it'll show you your dreams."

As the film played, Y/n was entirely captivated by the intricate and fantastical journey unfolding before her. She couldn't help but admire Sarah's courageous interactions with the strange and repulsive creatures, except the adorable worm at the beginning. Fairies, goblins, and monsters filled the screen, leaving Y/n in awe of the film's grungy artistry. She started taking a liking to Hoggle, although he is a coward, he truly cared for Sarah and her wellbeing, which is the type of friend that anyone could need in such desperate times.  However, above all the characters Y/n found remarkable, the enigmatic Goblin King, Jareth, captured her attention every time he appeared.

The ballroom scene, in particular, mesmerized Y/n, watching as Jareth's intense yet affectionate gaze lingered on Sarah in a way that set Y/n's nerves ablaze, leaving her breathless. Amidst the dancing figures and smooth song, Y/n couldn't help but imagine herself in Sarah's place, enveloped in the lingering sensation of Jareth's possessive regard.  

As she watched, a soft sigh escaped her parted lips, tinged with wistfulness. She pondered what it would be like to be looked upon with such desire in a crowded room, to be longed by someone you secretly desired, as you sought them out in the hopes of meeting their eyes again. She briefly fantasized about being in Sarah's place, feeling the electricity of Jareth's presence, drawing her closer every second.

Y/n's growing desires and anticipation danced amongst the sea of masked faces and whispered secrets. What would it feel like to be carefully handled the way Jareth did Sarah at that moment as she nearly lost herself in his eyes? She wondered this throughout the rest of the film, as the last scene with Jareth played on screen.

“Just fear me. Love me. Do as I say, and I will be your slave.”

A sickening sweet feeling aroused in the very heart of Y/n’s chest, causing her breath to abruptly become shallow as if it were her first time trying to breathe. Eyebrows furrowed and lips parted, she took in the lithe being presented on screen in front of her. Everything in her room surrounding her began to fall and fade away—all she could see was him. 

“Yes,” she subconsciously whispered, “say yes.”

“You have no power over me.” Sarah’s voice rang triumphantly, as the goblin king gave in, taking the form in his owl self once again.

As the film came to a close and the end credits started rolling, Y/n sank further into her pillows and covers. 

“I feel like there should’ve been more to the film,” she said to herself, “something’s missing. I’m not satisfied.”

D/n stirred in their sleep, not paying mind to a work y/n just said. The girl sighed, seizing the remote once more to watch something different.

That was until the door flew open and her moments of peace were shattered once again by the sharpness of m/n’s tone.

“Why didn’t you help me with dinner,”  she questioned, “let alone, make dinner?”

“It’s too late for dinner,” Y/n replied, “plus I’m not hungry.”

“So, you disregard everyone else in the house after you ate two servings of lasagna?”

“I guess so.” Y/n deadpanned, refusing to fuel the fire with the rebuttal about the lasagna being enough for one person. 

“Unbelievable,”  M/n huffed, putting her hands on her hips and looking around the room, “your room’s a mess.”

“Okay.” Y/n replied dismissively.

“No, I’m being serious, Y/n. You’re going to have a roommate in college and I sure hope you two get along through all this mess.” Her mother turned on the lights abruptly, waking up d/n and irritating Y/n. 

“Mom, what the heck,” Y/n fumed, getting out of her bed, and rushing to the wall to turn off the lights, the room went dark once again, “It’s eleven o’clock!”

“I expect you to get up tomorrow and clean this room,”  m/n declared, walking to the food frame, “I’m going to bed, and I want you to think about ways you can use your time more productively.”

Before y/n could fire back, M/n was already gone, shutting the lights of her room off. 

The eighteen-year-old girl couldn't catch a break even before bedtime. M/n, while not overly strict, had this unspoken rule that Y/n should just think like her. It led to endless clashes between them, leaving Y/n feeling weighed down.

Talking to friends helped a bit, but the constant disagreements with M/n still felt like a heavy burden on Y/n's chest. Trying to find common ground with someone who seemed to see the world differently was tough, and Y/n knew there was little to do about it.

"It'll all be over in a few months," Y/n told herself while she returned to her bed, submerging into the covers once more, turning off the television, and falling into a deep sleep, searching for peace of mind.

It was well into the morning when Y/n woke up to the sound of a mourning dove, the clock just nearing 10:45 am. She knew her mother was already awake, perhaps reading a book and having breakfast in her room. She planned to say good morning to her later.

D/n, who was once at the foot of her bed, was now propped up, wagging their tail in excitement to see Y/n, who smiled as she melted into the dog’s soft and loving gaze as she ruffled their fur. 

Y/n decided that this morning she would clean up her room and place all the unnecessary things in a giveaway bag. She immediately went downstairs, grabbed a garbage bag and a glass of water, and rushed back upstairs to get to work in her considerably well-kept room.

She wasn’t doing this because she wanted to; she was doing this so she wouldn’t be greeted by a nagging mother.

D/n remained on the bed, peering over at Y/n curiously as she continued. Y/n opened the cabinet of her desk and began rummaging through items she’d touched in recent months, setting aside everything except for one particular item. Tucked away at the back of the stacks of read novels and old workbooks rested a pristine bin.

She tossed the workbooks aside, intending to dispose of them, and placed the novels on top of her desk next to her computer, calendar, and another smaller stack of books. She then reached for the bin she hadn’t seen in over a few years. It was a simple clear plastic bin with a turquoise lid.

As she eagerly lifted the lid, a rush of nostalgia engulfed her senses. Beneath the lid lay a jumble of crumpled lined papers adorned with intricate drawings, stacked on top of older notebooks, comics, and mangas, which in turn rested upon other well-loved books from her middle school days. It was a veritable treasure trove of memories that Y/n found impossible to resist. Without hesitation, she reached for the first item on top - a character sheet.

Growing up, Y/n's love for storytelling and creativity knew no bounds. She had especially displayed a remarkable talent for crafting complex characters and their elaborate backstories. While progressing in her budding artistic skills, her true passion lay in building and immersing herself in fantastical worlds. She was engrossed in the worlds of anime, mangas, and fiction which surpassed the typical interests of children her age. Her mind was a treasure trove of knowledge, brimming with insights into various fandoms, literary works, and both contemporary and classic fantasy films.

“No way!” she chuckled, flipping through a notebook full of her drawings of characters she’d seen in anime along with anime characters she'd made up. Each page was adorned with meticulous side notes containing non-canon theories, potential romantic head-canons, and intricately woven backstories that she had crafted from her boundless imagination.

As Y/n spent the next twenty minutes soaring down memory lane, she felt a sinking in her chest, leaving her feeling empty and yearning for that same sense of creativity to ignite within her once again.

She continued sifting through the pile of memories until she reached the bottom, where she found a black velvet notebook with plain white pages. Upon picking it up, she discovered that it was empty. Feeling a bit disappointed, she placed all the objects back into the bin, carefully arranging them in the small compartment.

As she did so, she recalled the various stories she had created in the past - witches, vampires, fairies, and superheroes. She especially missed the sense of accomplishment she felt upon completing each small project, as well as the innocent crushes developed on fictional characters from specific scenes and fan fiction.

Y/n missed how she didn't have a care in the world between what was real and what was fake.

She got up and ascended the stairs once more with the garbage bin at hand and placed it at the bottom of the back door. She figured that once her father came back he’d drive it over to the Salvation Army warehouse. She walked into the kitchen welcomed by the blaring sound of the blender her mom was using to make a smoothie. 

M/n stopped the blender and poured some of the smoothie into a glass cup, handing it to Y/n with a “Good morning sweetie.”

“Good morning, Mom,” Y/n replied, taking a small sip of the berry enriched smoothie, “how did you sleep?”

“Oh, I slept fine,” M/n replied, unplugging the blender and setting it aside on the kitchen’s white valley granite countertop, “the bed feels empty without your dad in it.”

“I’m sure.” Y/n agreed leaning against the counter and taking another sip.

“Did you sleep alright?” M/n asked.

Y/n nodded.

“Good,” M/n noted, about to sip her smoothie once more; she then stopped, “Where’s D/n?”

“Upstairs,” Y/n replied.

“You should always take your dog out for a walk in the morning.” M/n inputted, setting her smoothie down.

“I know, but she was asleep and I was cleaning my room and disposing of things I didn’t need.”

“So, you were up this entire time and didn’t bother to walk your dog or make us any breakfast?”

Y/n studied her mother’s furrowed expression, not sure of what to say.

“Your room would have waited, Y/n. You need to start—”

“Mom, I don’t wanna hear it, it’s too early.” Y/n interrupted, feeling her boiling blood course through her veins.

M/n disregarded her daughter's advances, “It’s nearly noon, Y/n and we’ve barely eaten. I need you to start thinking and be able to multitask and take the initiative. What you’re doing right now won’t get you far in your career.”

Y/n had heard M/n repeat this thousands of times, using as many things to say back in previous times, Y/n was now worn out. 

“Whatever.” She uttered making her way to the kitchen’s exit.

“Excuse me?” M/n’s tone was sharper now.

“Nothing, Mom.”

“Y/n, I tell you these things so you can become more mature. The behavior has gotten too far. You’re eighteen years old and it’s ridiculous the way you act at such a grown age. I constantly have to repeat myself—”

“Then don’t,” Y/n argued.

“Then give me a reason not to,” M/n fired back, “I’ve never seen your age treat her mother the way you do and act selfishly and dismissively.”

Y/n sighed, “This is so unnecessary. All of this over breakfast.”

“You belittle everything, Y/n. Grow up.”

“You can relax now.”

“Grow up.”

“Telling me to grow up won’t do anything.” 

“What I’m saying, sweetie is that you–”

“Okay, mom. I get it. I’ll do better.” Y/n surrendered, not wanting to ignite the flame any further. She was already getting a sickening feeling in her stomach.

She exited the kitchen and rushed up the stairs and back into her room, shutting the door behind her. She set her smoothie down on her desk and paced her room feeling a lump forming in her throat. 

“It’s like she always has to start a problem no matter what I do!” She hiccuped feeling her eyes sting with tears. 

“Can’t she just let me live for once, God, for fucking once!” 

Tears streamed down her face, hanging at her chin, she looked outside at the clear blue sky with the sun well overhead.

“Y/n! Walk your dog!” Her mother yelled from downstairs.

“Okay!” Y/n’s seething voice cracked, “shut up.” she muttered sniffling.

“Now!”

“Give me a minute!”

More tears started spilling down Y/n’s face. She sobbed and hiccuped quietly, continuing to look out her window, which was only a few feet away. Her heart was aching, and her throat was twisted in a knot of sorrow; her chest heaved with exhaustion. She started to cry harder after she attempted to swallow her tears; she knew M/n was going to notice her tear-stricken face. 

Y/n grabbed her phone and trudged over to her bed and plopped down on her back, sighing in defeat. She figured that before she walked D/n she would at least distract herself from the pang of sorrow that knocked at her chest. 

She opened her web browser and typed in “labyrinth 1986,” and thousands of search results appeared, including links to websites, articles, videos, and even books and comics.

The girl's eyes widened in disbelief as she clicked on the first image that showed the same book with a striking red cover that Sarah had been carrying at the park.

“No way, there’s an official novelization of the labyrinth,” she gasped as she further searched. To her surprise, there were comics and mangas as well.

The pain Y/n was feeling suddenly subsided, replaced by a sense of wonder and excitement as she eagerly read through the summaries and reviews for each comic, book, and archived piece available.

“ Finally back in print and for the first time in hardcover is the novelization of LABYRINTH written by A.C.H. Smith and personally overseen by Jim Henson. This is the first in a series of novels from the Jim Henson Archives.”

“ Labyrinth: Coronation is a 12-issue comic book series written by Simon Spurrier and illustrated by Daniel Bayliss, published by Archaia from 2018 to 2019. It is a prequel to the 1986 film Labyrinth that takes place in 18th-century Venice and tells the story of how Jareth became the Goblin King.”

“You’re lying” Y/n muttered, enticed by the various series of books presented before her, she clicked on the official novelization first, seeing that it was available in her local bookstore for $30, seeing that there was only one in stock, she made a reservation to pick it up today on her walk with D/n.

“I have to have it.” She said putting in her online payment, which had been successfully authorized. 

Thank you for your purchase! The book you have requested will be available within 20 minutes. You have two days to pick it up.

“Oh, shit I gotta go.” Y/n gasped frantically getting out of her bed. She rushed to her closet and grabbed a pair of gray sweats and a simple scoop navy blue cami top, throwing on white socks. She grabbed her mini purse with her wallet inside and made her way down the stairs, D/n  followed.

“I’m going to the library, D/n is coming with me,” Y/n said as she passed the living room where M/n sat on her computer. 

“Okay. Take the car of course.” M/n replied in deep concentration on whatever was on screen. 

Y/n unlatched the garage door, the sound of its metal creaking filling the air as she stepped inside. She slipped on her comfortable slides and made her way to her car, with D/n following closely behind her. The afternoon sun poured into the garage as she settled into the driver's seat, and D/n took their place in the passenger seat. Y/n rolled down the windows, feeling the warm summer breeze on her skin as she carefully reversed out of the garage and onto the driveway. She made her way down Nordstin Street, making a right onto Seems Street, she marveled at the vibrant activity around her, knowing that the lakefront was only a couple of streets away. It was nearly one o’clock, and the streets were alive with the energy of people going about their day.

It didn't take long before Y/n reached the library. Finding a snug parking spot near the entrance.

She turned to D/n, letting all the windows up, leaving the passenger’s side slightly cracked.

“I’ll be right back, the window will be cracked for you,” she said leaning in and giving her sweet dog a peck on the nose.

She quickly exited the car and walked up to the library and opened the dark wooden doors, where she paid no attention to her surroundings as she marched straight to the front desk, which was occupied by a lady cashier. They greeted each other warmly.

“My name is Y/n L/n and I purchased Jim Henson’s Labyrinth today.” She spoke clearly. 

As the lady behind the counter heard Y/n's request, she paused, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she searched for the book. With a few swift clicks to confirm the order, she leaned down and carefully retrieved the treasure Y/n had sought. The rich, crimson book with the elegant golden title "Labyrinth" embossed on its cover was presented before the younger girl, its allure captivating her gaze.

“You’re all set Miss L/n, have a good day!” She chirped sweetly. 

“You too!” Y/n returned as she made her way to the front door, her heart hammering in her chest in anticipation as she made her way back to the car. Luckily, there was a park just across the street from the library.

Y/n opened the car door and let D/n out, the leash making a jingling sound as the dog shook its fur. Y/n shut the door and grabbed hold of the leash, holding the book in another hand and the two made their way to Gillson Park.

Gillson Park was one of the more popular parks in Evansville because it was known for its stunning natural landscapes that are cherished by both locals and visitors alike. Characterized by lush greenery, serene ponds reflecting the sky, and winding walking trails on steep hills. Tall trees provide a cool respite from the summer sun, while colorful blossoms add vibrancy to the surroundings. Many may describe it as a meadow away from the bustling suburban life. 

Y/n found a nice bench by an open field, letting D/n’s leash to wander about the grass and flowers. She propped herself so that she was lying across the bench comfortably, her elbow resting on the arms of the bench. She opened the first page and began to embark on her reading journey.

“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child you have stolen.” She read aloud, attempting to capture the determination in Sarah’s voice, she chuckled to herself.   

“For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great…”

An Owl glided over the sky unnoticed as it emerged amongst Gillson Park. A creature of pure elegance in the backdrop of the midday scenery. His plumage, a pristine canvas of a bold white, seems to shimmer with an otherworldly luminescence, catching the last rays of the afternoon sun like a cascade of fire woven into feathers. He settled on a branch of the tree that was hovered over Y/n, as she continued to focus on the compelling words in the book. 

His large, dark eyes were fixed on her as she sat with rapt concentration. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes moved swiftly across the crisp, white pages. Her hands were holding the book motionless on the crimson red cover as if she was hesitant to disturb the stillness of the moment.

The Owl’s trance was interrupted by the barking of D/n, his heart shaped head turned to the direction of the galloping dog making its way to Y/n, who looked up from her book, set it on her lap, and petted D/n softly.

“This is a good book so far, D/n,” she said with a smile, “I appreciate its detail.” she leaned down and ruffled the dog’s fur, smothering her pet with the love and affection they deserved. 

Unbeknownst to them, the owl had been silently observing Y/n's every move from the highest branch of the nearby tree. Y/n shut the book and got up from the bench to grab D/n's leash. As Y/n closed the book and rose from the bench, the owl maintained its vigilant watch, its piercing eyes following their every step. Y/n secured D/n's leash, and the two began their stroll back towards the library's parking lot, the owl gracefully gliding from tree to tree, never losing sight of them.

Once both were in the car, the owl perched on the concrete edge of the library's roof, its keen gaze fixed on the departing car as it merged into the occupied street. 

Only when the car disappeared from view did the owl spread its feathered wings and take to the sky again, disappearing into the horizon.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Wish

Summary:

Word count: 5.5k (22 pages)

Warnings for this chapter: swearing, arguments, blood, use of weapons

Key:Y/n= your name | L/n= last name | M/n= mom name |d/n= dog name

The rest of the day was Y/n spending time in her room reading Labyrinth. She was sprawled lazily on her bed on her back, one of her windows cracked as she felt the warm summer dusk breeze tickle her skin.

She began to feel familiar with the intricate details and made mental comparisons between the novel and the movie. Despite only watching the film once, Y/n felt as though she remembered all of it; it was tattooed in her brain, and she didn't intend to forget it.

Every time she immersed herself in Jareth's dialogue, she couldn't help but hear it in his deep, captivating voice, which sent shivers down her spine as if he was standing right behind her, softly whispering in her ear. She longed for his words from the book to be portrayed in the movie, but reading allowed her to envision Jareth's dialogues in a way that was uniquely her own. It felt like she was directing a personal movie in her mind, one that she never wanted to end.

She was more than halfway through the book when she set it down and grabbed her phone, ignoring the notification on her lock screen. She opened a music app and looked up the Labyrinth soundtrack, scrolling to the song that she couldn't quite resist the most.

She put on her headphones, her left hand in the spot in the book where she left off, and pressed play, allowing the music to electrify her senses like a sudden bolt of lightning.

"How you turn my world into a precious thing…"

His voice trembled with vulnerability and longing, sending a wave of heat rushing down her body. She couldn't help but shut her eyes, savoring the electric sensation as she pictured Jareth in his sleek black leather waistcoat and vibrant red long-sleeved shirt.

"You starve and near exhaust me."

"Everything I've done, I've done for you…"

"I move the stars for no one."

She swallows a lump in her throat. Her eyes began to sting. She allows his evocative voice to seize her senses.

"You've run so long, you've run so far…"

"Your eyes can be so cruel."

As Y/n listened to the melancholic tunes, a sudden rush of excitement overwhelmed her, a feeling she hadn't experienced while listening to a song in a long time.

In her mind's eye, she envisioned Jareth striding towards her, his hand outstretched, offering a crystal ball filled with dreams. She imagined him staring intensely at her with a daring look, his thin lips forming a seductive smirk so captivating that Y/n could swear she felt her body pulsating with anticipation. Her eyes remained fixed on Jareth; her heart seemed to leap into her throat in that instant.

"Just as I can be so cruel."

She found herself unable to pinpoint the exact reason for her attraction. Perhaps it was the juxtaposition of his drowsy yet intense gaze and angular eyebrows accentuating his sly grin, or maybe it was the hypnotic timbre of his voice. His words seemed to caress her like a sudden rush of water trickling down her goosebump ridden skin. She so desperately wanted to open her mouth and shamelessly consume it, letting it drip down the corners of her mouth—into her throat.

"Oh, I do believe in you…"

Y/n started to picture herself reaching for the ball; her focus momentarily fixed. Jareth let it settle into her grasp as he continued to outstretch a gloved hand towards her chin. The leather cool against her skin as he gently caressed it. Y/n draws irresistibly closer, feeling the pulsating between her thighs intensify.

Jareth's thumb traced the curve of her bottom lip with deliberate slowness, igniting a flutter of anticipation within her. She stumbled slightly, finding herself leaning into his embrace, allowing his arm to snake around the small of her waist. The sensation of his breath brushing against her face made her close her eyes in surrender.

Her lips parted further, ready for whatever he was going to give her the minute he started to inch closer....

Y/n was suddenly startled by rapid thumping on the windowpane.

She lifted her head up only to see nothing.

"The hell?" She questioned irritably, for no tree branches barely brushed her window. She huffed and thumped her head against her bed, looking up at the ceiling, disappointed that she'd lost her train of thought. But what wasn't lost was the aching between her thighs.

"Y/n, I would appreciate it if I could get some help around here," her mother called from downstairs sarcastically, "you've been upstairs all day. I've barely seen you."

With an exasperated huff, Y/n rolled out of bed, descending the spiral of dark wooden stairs.

M/n was seen chopping up garlic for a salad; she loved to add garlic to almost every meal because it was healthy. Y/n couldn't stand it.

"Can you chop up the lettuce, please?" M/n requested that the garlic pieces be put into the wooden salad bowl. And what have you been doing all day?"

"Reading," Y/n replied dryly, taking a knife and cutting the lettuce stem.

"What book did you get?" M/n asked, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a cucumber from one of the bottom shelves.

"It's called Labyrinth. It's based on a movie I watched last night."

"So that's what you were doing instead of helping. Stuck on a movie and a book that will do you no good."

"Mom, enough."

"What about your prep for college? Did you sign up for your orientation like you were supposed to?"

"Mom, please, I completed those things weeks ago, and you know that. My orientation isn't until next month!"

"I'm sure there are more things you need to complete." M/n continued grabbing the pieces of lettuce y/n and placing them in the salad bowl. At this point, she was interrogating the poor girl.

"I was only having leisure time, that's all," Y/n replied with slumped shoulders, for she was tired of going back and forth.

"You always have leisure time," M/n shot back, "you don't do anything-"

"Alright, that's enough! I don't wanna hear it anymore!"

M/n stopped her work and turned to Y/n with eyes of fire as if she were about to tear her apart.

"Who are you raising your voice at?" She asked slowly.

“What- I-“ y/n stammered.

"No, no, no," M/n's voice was louder, filling the quiet space of the kitchen; Y/n couldn't help but wince, "Who do you think you're talking to?"

Before Y/n could answer, her mother grabbed her arm so hard, digging her fingertips into her flesh.

"No, you listen to me-" M/n began, her voice plummeting fiercely into Y/n's eardrums.

"No! I'm not going to listen to you. Why? Because I'm an adult, and I am sick and tired of you treating me like a child!" Y/n's voice erupted with anger as she forcefully tore her arm from her mother's grip, surprised at how easily it came free. She stepped back, her chest heaving with frustration and resentment.

"You're never satisfied with me, no matter what I do! All you care about is being 'productive,' but it's just controlling! You expect everyone to think and act the way you do, and when they don't, you act like they're wrong!" Her words sliced through the air like knives, each one laced with years of pent-up frustration and hurt.

Her eyes blazed with defiance, daring her mother to challenge her.

Y/n's mother scoffed dismissively, her tone dripping with condescension. "Y/N, give me a break. I'm not falling for whatever tactic this is anymore. This has gone on for too long, and you need to be more mature. You haven't lifted a finger in days, and your dad isn't even here! All you think about is yourself, and I'm tired of repeating myself over and over again. If you want to be treated like an adult, then start acting like one."

Her words landed like a verbal slap, stoking the fire of Y/n's frustration even further. The accusation of selfishness cut deep, but Y/n refused to back down.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Mom, you've hindered my maturity and growth for however long. You never give me a chance to think about things-"

"I wish you would blame me for the way you turned out. You simply don't think."

"That's because growing up, you always had to think for me," Y/n asserted, taking a deliberate step forward. "The reason my friends are so mature and independent is because their parents leave them the hell alone."

"Do you have to swear, Y/n," M/n's mom questioned, shaking her head, "you bless the devil by doing that."

"Oh no, the devils gonna get me," Y/n mocked, throwing her mother off a bit, "so be it."

Y/n and her mother stood in tense silence, the air thick with unspoken words and simmering tension. M/n's initial surprise shifted into a deep disappointment as she absorbed the gravity of the situation. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she began to nod, her thoughts racing for a response.

"You're grounded; hand me your phone, computer, remote, and that book. We're finished here."

The words landed like a heavy blow to Y/n's chest, each item listed a tangible loss in the sudden turn of events. Her mother's decree was final, leaving no room for negotiation or reconciliation at that moment.

"What-why the book? I haven't even finished it–"

"That's alright. Once you're finished with it, I expect it to be turned in. You won't be seeing it until you're packed for college."

That managed to ease y/n's surging anger, keeping it at bay. But why for so long?

Stinging of tears threatened to spill over. Y/n turned away from her mother without a word and headed upstairs, her steps heavy with the weight of frustration and hurt. She closed the door to her room firmly behind her, shutting out the world and the echoes of their heated exchange.

"Phone, computer, and remote!" Her mom shouted from upstairs.

"Yeah, yeah," Y/n muttered. She took the labyrinth book from her bed and looked over its crimson cover, tracing her thumb and feeling its smoothness. Frustration started to course through her veins, knowing that she wouldn't see it for a while after she'd finished it.

She stacked her laptop and phone on top of her desk, oblivious to the various thumping noises she was making.

She went downstairs, not planning to speak to her mother.

She sets the stack on the counter, ignoring M/n's "thank you."

Y/n was more than halfway through the book, with only 35 pages to go. She wasn't a slow reader; she just wanted to soak in every detail the Labyrinth had to offer, making sure to picture each interaction and character vividly. That's what she loved about books: the ability to visualize and submerge herself into foreign lands better than her own.

Back in her room, she sinks into the plush covers of her bed and continues to delve into the land of the Labyrinth, mentally noting each character individually.

Y/n found herself really liking Sarah's character, especially how she kept her cool through such a complex maze of challenges. She admired Sarah's resourcefulness and how she brought her friends into the mix to boost her chances against Jareth.

What really stood out to Y/n was the depth and detail in the book compared to the movie. It gave her a better understanding of the characters' thoughts and feelings, which she loved analyzing. Getting more insight into Sarah's relationship with her mom was a big plus too—it added a whole new layer of emotion and understanding.

She paid close attention to Jareth and was especially shocked when he kissed Sarah in the ballroom.

"That's weird," Y/n muttered as she thoroughly read the scene, "they didn't kiss in the movie."

"Trust me," Jareth said, moving his face close to hers. "Can you do that?"

"Jesus." Y/n breathed, feeling the tension through the words.

As Y/n delved deeper into the chapter where the Junk Lady attempts to distract Sarah with materialistic temptations, she found herself captivated by the poignant symbolism woven into the narrative.

Y/n looked up from the spot, her hand placed gently on where she stopped, eyes furrowed, and lips parted.

"This is quite literally all a setup. The Labyrinth seems more than a maze full of convoluted riddles and pathways." Y/n pondered as she suddenly stopped reading.

Her thoughts started swirling with the parallels between Sarah's journey in the Labyrinth and her life aboveground. The more she reflected, the more convinced she became that something was orchestrated about Sarah's challenges. No doubt Jareth was behind it all, but there was a tint of something else.

"Hoggle was waiting for her... like he knew she was coming," Y/n murmured, tapping her fingers on the page. She remembered how Sarah encountered helpful creatures at almost every turn — the worm, Ludo, even Sir Didymus. Each encounter seemed almost too conveniently timed as if the Labyrinth itself had a hand in guiding her.

"And those doors," Y/n continued, recalling the puzzling moments in the story. "Sarah guessed the riddle correctly, yet ended up in the same place anyway. And the Bog of Eternal Stench, why didn't Sarah smell bad when she hopped on top of those rocks that emerged from the bog water?"

Without warning, the bedroom door slammed open, and M/n stormed in, her sunglasses perched defiantly on her head and her designer purse swinging with purpose.

"Y/n, I need to run to the store. I forgot things for dinner," she declared tersely, not stopping to acknowledge the disarray of Y/n's room or the drawn curtains she criticized. "This room is a disaster. Why are these curtains shut? Open them and let in some light."

Y/n's irritation simmered as she bit her lip, struggling to hold back a retort. She watched with a knot in her stomach as her mother rifled through drawers, criticizing and rummaging through everything in her path.

"Why are your clothes all crumpled? You just did laundry. Why do you always treat your things so carelessly, Y/n?"

"Bye, Mom."

"No, you'll answer me like an adult."

"Adults don't have to answer everything."

"As long as you're under my roof, you will answer every question I ask."

Y/n met her mother's gaze, silently challenging her to leave.

In response, M/n spun around, yanking out armfuls of clothes and flinging them onto the floor with reckless abandon. Drawer after drawer, she created a chaotic landscape of fabric—shirts, jeans, socks—all strewn across the once pristine floor.

Y/n stood frozen in disbelief, her nerves frayed as the room transformed into a battleground of wills. The sight of her belongings tossed aside like meaningless clutter felt like an assault on her sanctuary.

"All these clothes need to be folded properly," M/n commanded, dumping a final heap of swimwear on the growing pile. "And get rid of anything you don't want."

With that final decree, M/n left without waiting for a response, leaving Y/n to confront the aftermath of her fury.

As the echo of the slamming door reverberated through the house, Y/n abandoned the book, got up from the comfort of her bed, and stood amidst the wreckage.

Her chest was tight with unspoken frustration. And right there the helpless girl crumbled.

She sank onto the floor, overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions and the crushing weight of expectations she couldn't wrap around.

The room seemed to close around her, the mess a physical manifestation of her mother's control.

She shook, hiccuped, and sobbed loudly, feeling utterly overwhelmed and disconnected from everything around her. She could barely feel her knees pressing against her bedroom floor.

The house phone began to ring.

Groaning, Y/n trudged out of her room and to one of the house phones that was sitting snugly on a dresser.

“Hello?” she answered upon picking it up.

“Y/n, can you please put your remote downstairs? I forgot to tell you that I didn’t see it. I’ll see you in thirty minutes.” her mom instructed.

“Yeah.” Y/n answered dismissively.

“Love you, bye.” her mom answered.

Without replying, Y/n hangs up and stomps back to her room.

She walked over to the bed looking for her remote which she knew was submerged in the covers somewhere.

Finally finding it, she grabbed it and turned back to the hefty pile of clothes that were still a heaping mess on the floor. There was one particular pile of clothes that she no longer needed anymore, so she lifted up the small pile.

“I wish the goblins would take mom away,” she plopped the remote on top, “right fucking now.”

She chuckled at her silly joke, deep resentment for her mother continued to rise in her chest.

Y/n descended the stairs with a purpose, tossing the clothes into the familiar "giveaway" box positioned by the garage door. It had become a regular chore for the family, ensuring a steady stream of donations to local centers.

Still clad in her navy blue cami top, gray sweats, and white socks, Y/n ambled into the kitchen, where a neglected salad bowl lay surrounded by remnants of onions, garlic, lettuce, and spring mix. Feeling the pang of hunger, she opted for a quick fix—a frozen bean and rice burrito that she tossed into the microwave.

As the burrito spun, heating up, an unsettling sound reverberated through the house, causing D/n, their faithful companion, to emit a low growl from somewhere distant. Y/n paused, dismissing the noise initially as a stray branch from the backyard trees colliding with a windowpane. She retrieved the now steaming burrito, placing it carefully on a porcelain plate, and relished the first bite—a warm combination of rice, beans, and cheese that elicited a contented hum of pleasure.

But the tranquility shattered as D/n growled again, the thumping sound resuming with increased intensity. Y/n frowned, setting down her half-eaten burrito and swiftly grabbing a knife from the rack near the coffee maker. Though violent incidents were rare in Evansville, her avid consumption of crime shows had prepared her for the possibility of intruders.

With determination etched on her face, she crossed into the living room where the rhythmic thumping persisted that was coming from the large windows. The curtains billowed ominously, threatening to burst with each impact against the glass. D/n stood, tail erect, emitting a series of deep barks and growls that mirrored Y/n's own rising apprehension.

Knife gripped tightly, Y/n cautiously approached the curtains. Her heart raced as an eerie, non-human laugh echoed from her left. She whipped around, knife poised defensively.

"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice wavering slightly despite her attempt to sound resolute.

Another unsettling giggle pierced the air, mingling with the relentless thumping that had now grown even more frenzied.

A shadow darted behind the flatscreen television, prompting D/n to shift its attention. Y/n pivoted, ready to confront the unseen intruder, her senses heightened.

Then, a furry sensation brushed against her leg. Y/n looked down in alarm, locking eyes with a grotesque creature—a snout twisted and burned, with jagged yellow teeth set against dark fur-covered skin. Its height stopped right below her knee.

Instinctively, she kicked it forcefully, sending the creature tumbling backward onto the couch. Before she could recover, another creature emerged from behind the curtain, emitting a shrill, disturbing laugh that chilled her to the bone.

Y/n and D/n sprang into action, darting around the room in a frantic attempt to corner the elusive intruders. They ignored the persistent thumping now audible from the other window, focusing solely on defending their territory.

Not wasting another moment, Y/n retreated to the kitchen counter where her phone, laptop, and remote lay in a neat stack. With the knife tucked securely under her arm, she dialed 911, her fingers trembling.

Before Y/n could press the dial button, a small, gnarled hand seized her phone, startling her into action.

Her eyes widened as she found herself face to face with a goblin.

Its snout was grotesquely twisted, resembling a pig's, with eyes that were oddly close-set and resembled googly eyes, complete with red irises. The creature sported a rusty helmet atop its misshapen head, its eyebrows mere wisps of hair.

Reacting swiftly, Y/n lunged with her knife, stabbing the goblin squarely in the shoulder. It screeched in pain, its voice cracked and shrill.

"Ahh! She gots me, she gots me! Ahh!" The goblin wailed, writhing in agony.

Y/n didn't hesitate, stabbing again, this time aiming for its eye. The creature bellowed in pain once more, its shrill cries echoing in the room.

Unbeknownst to her, another smaller goblin lurked, ready to pounce from behind. But before it could strike, D/n sprang into action, leaping on the creature and pinning it down with a growl.

"This dog, oh!" The goblin grumbled in a low, grimy voice, clearly displeased with its predicament.

Y/n's phone clattered to the floor amidst the chaos. She moved to retrieve it, only for it to be kicked out of sight in the scuffle.

“Fuck!” she cursed seeing it skid over to the further end of the kitchen. Her hand was bloodied from goblin blood and she felt disgusting, but she had to keep fighting.

Y/n was still knelt on the ground and she peered behind her seeing that D/n had trapped the smaller goblin underneath their weight.

Y/n scurried over and yanked the goblin from their grasp.

“Good boy/girl.” she praised throwing the goblin so that it hit the wall with a thump, knocking it unconscious.

Another goblin, a taller, sturdier one, charged to the direction of her phone that was at the other side of the kitchen by the refrigerator.

"No, no, no!" Y/n gasped, sprinting across the room with her bloodied knife clutched tightly. She reached the goblin just as it raised its ax to smash her phone. With a surge of adrenaline, she grabbed the creature by its neck, struggling with its surprising weight as she hoisted it up and flung it forcefully to the far end of the room.

"I guess going to the gym does pay off at times," she muttered to herself wryly, her heart racing from the exertion. She quickly retrieved her phone, stuffing it into her pocket while scanning her surroundings frantically.

Nearby, the unconscious goblin lay sprawled on the floor, her faithful dog, D/n, was engaged in a fierce struggle with the bloodied goblin, and the third goblin staggered to its feet weakly, attempting to regain its composure after being thrown down.

Y/n took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever might come next. Gripping her knife firmly, she remained on high alert, ready to defend herself against any further threats that dared to invade her home.

“D/n! Come here,” She commanded, and her dog was immediately by her side, “stay by me, okay?”

Y/n and D/n cautiously returned to the living room, the thumping noise still reverberating. Despite her fear, she approached the source of commotion.

With trembling hands, she pulled aside the curtains and was comforted by the sight that made her blood run cold.

A white barn owl, its eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity, was flapping menacingly at the door. Before Y/n could react, the owl launched itself, shattering the window with a thunderous crash and swooping into the room like a missile.

Y/n gasped in horror, shielding her face as glass shards flew in all directions. She stumbled backwards, landing hard on the cold wooden floor. The shards of glass continued to rain down, and despite her efforts to protect herself, Y/n felt the sting of cuts on her forearm, chest, and face. Pain shot through her, but she clutched her knife tightly, ready to defend herself.

The owl, now inside the room, attacked ferociously. It clawed at Y/n's arms, slapped her with its wings, and tangled its feathers in her hair. Y/n fought back desperately, swinging her knife blindly until the owl finally retreated, leaving her shaken.

As the chaos settled, Y/n slowly rose to her feet, D/n watching her with concern. She gripped the knife tightly, scanning the shattered room. Bile rose in her throat and tears started stinging her eyes once more.

"Mom's gonna fucking kill me," she muttered bitterly, her voice wavering with emotion, “shit.”

"You won't have to worry about that," a voice said, cutting through the tense silence.

Y/n gasped and turned to the direction of the voice.

Leaning against the unshattered window stood a tall, lithe figure, glittering specks scattered at his feet. His black leather boots complemented black tights, and he wore a ruffled black undershirt with a deep vee, topped by a black half corset adorned with intricate designs and buckles. A long, flowing cape draped gracefully to the ground.

She took in his face, noting the striking sharpness of his features. High cheekbones and an angled chin were framed by a wild, tousled mane of blond hair.

"So, this is the thanks I get?" he remarked, his voice laced with bitterness and amusement.

He studied Y/n’s face, dewy with sweat and marked by blood splotches near her eyebrow and upper cheekbone. Her wet lips were parted, and eyes were challenging. His mismatched eyes swiftly scanned her body, noting the strap of the navy blue cami top slipping off her sweaty shoulder. Y/n’s entire body glistened with sweat, a trickle of blood tracing down her pristine chest as it heaved harshly.

"Who the hell are you?" Y/n demanded, though she already had a sinking feeling she knew the answer.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied in a haughty manner, the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Why are you here?" she pressed, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.

"Why do you insist on asking questions you already know the answers to?" he retorted, his mismatched eyes glinting with an unsettling intensity.

“This must be a dream or something,” y/n breathed, “because there’s no way David Bowie is in my house right now.”

The male furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at her joke, “what?”

“David Bowie…” Y/n repeated slowly, “are you not…?”

“I don’t know who this Dave Bowel you speak of.”

“Jeez, have some respect for the dead..”

“My condolences.” Jareth replied dryly.

Y/n kissed her teeth, Jareth sarcasm was really on a roll this evening.

Jareth points behind her, “Look there.”

Y/n turned around only to be faced by a clean and ordered room. All of the shards of glass vanished and the window is back in its place.

“You’re free now to do whatever you please.”

“I’m free?” Y/n asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Forget about your mother.”

The knife that was once in Y/n’s hand fell onto the floor with a loud clunk.

“You took my mother?” She said in disbelief.

“Isn’t that what you asked for?” Jareth said with a raised brow, for he found Y/n’s reaction quite amusing.

“But—wait—I was kidding!”

“Were you now?”

“Yes. I won’t say anything like that again I promise! Just please bring my mom back.”

Jareth made his way closer to Y/n until he was only a breath away, their eyes locking like old foes reunited in a clash of wills.

“What comes out of your mouth, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper. He outstretched his gloved hand, his fingers grazing her chest, “contradicts the desires of your heart.”

A shiver ran through Y/n at his touch, her breath hitching as she found herself unable to break free from the intensity of his gaze, which bore into her with a fierce and unsettling determination.

“Please.” She whispered.

"Please what?" He trailed his fingers to her jaw, smoothing his thumb along her chin with a maddening slowness.

This touch was more electrifying than she had ever envisioned, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

"I'm sure this feels very familiar to you, Y/n," he said slyly, his voice dripping with mischief and unspoken promises.

"What are you-"

"Save the absurd questions for another time," he cut in, his thumb gliding from the curve of her chin to the base of her swollen lips, lingering there with deliberate pressure.

Heat ignited between Y/n's legs once again, more intense and insistent than before.

"There won't be another time," she hissed, tearing her head away hastily, her gaze burning with defiance even as her body betrayed her.

“You are seriously fucked in the head for seducing me into forgetting my own mom.”

“It doesn’t take much to do that.” Jareth retorted in a matter of fact tone.

“Don’t act like you know me. I’m not Sarah!” She spat.

Jarerh’s expression dropped, he irritably sighed, “No you're not,” he regained his composure right then and there, “but you’re just like every other teenage girl.”

“How would you know that?”

“I know the desires of your heart.”

“Like hell you do.”

“Sarah was not the only one who ran my labyrinth.” His voice ran cold suddenly.

“But she was the only one who conquered it.” He finished.

Their eyes stayed locked, and for a long moment, the air between them crackled with electric tension. Neither was willing to back down, both poised on the edge of something inevitable.

“Sometimes I wonder who will be the next conqueror,” Jareth murmured, his voice low and suggestive, his gaze burning into Y/n's.

“So you're suggesting I run the labyrinth to save my mom?” She asked, her voice carrying a challenge of its own.

Jareth smirked.

"Alright," Y/n challenged, bending down to pick up her knife. She flipped it in the air and caught it perfectly. "I'll do it. But don't expect me to give up easily."

"You stabbing and flinging my subjects around proves enough," Jareth replied, looking down at his arm and mockingly brushing it with his hand. "Nearly chopped my wing off with that knife. You are a bold thing." He chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement as he looked back up at her.

"Alright, save it. Where's the Labyrinth?" Y/n pushed irritably, her patience wearing thin.

“Such haste won’t get you anywhere.” Jareth replied.

“But I already know the rules, I’ve watched the movie, I have thirteen hours to solve or my mom will turn into a goblin.” She recited.

Jareth furrowed her eyebrows once more, “Movie?”

Y/n waved her hand dismissively, “Never mind.”

“You’ve read the book. That’s how you know.”

“Uh yeah.” Y/n then started to wonder if Jareth even knew what a movie was.

"But since you're so confident," Jareth started, circling her slowly, his eyes never leaving her, "I'll give you ten hours."

"You can't just do that!" Y/n protested, incredulous at the arbitrary time limit.

"It is my labyrinth where I can do what I please," Jareth replied nonchalantly, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of challenge and amusement.

"But I never said I was confident; I said I wouldn't give up. There's a difference between determination and cockiness," Y/n retorted, meeting Jareth's challenging gaze head-on.

Jareth's expression tightened, and he took a sharp breath, his stance growing tense as he ceased his circling. Silently, he gestured behind Y/n. Turning, she faced the once shattered window, now revealing the ominous maze of the labyrinth, with the castle looming in the distance like a coveted prize.

"Looks challenging doesn’t it?" Jareth taunted, leaning close to her ear, his breath tickling the nape of her neck.

"Ten hours. That's all you've left me," Y/n huffed bitterly.

Jareth snorted, his demeanor shifting as he backed away from her. "I'm simply treating you as you wish to be treated," he countered.

Turning to face him, Y/n's eyes narrowed. "And how is that?" she challenged, bracing herself for his next barb.

"Like an adult," he shot back, his voice slicing through the tense silence like a blade.

Y/n fought to maintain her composure, her heart racing at his words.

"Such a pity," Jareth added, his tone cold and cutting.

Ignoring his provocations, Y/n began to stride forward, only to halt abruptly.

"My dog," she exclaimed, looking back, but Jareth had vanished.

From behind a nearby tree emerged D/n, wagging their tail in greeting.

"D/n!" Y/n exclaimed joyfully, scooping up her furry companion in a tight embrace.

"Ten hours," Jareth's voice echoed ominously.

Startled by his sudden reappearance through his voice alone, Y/n quickly rose to her feet and proceeded down the sloping path towards the labyrinth's entrance.

"Let's do this."

Chapter 3: Convoluted

Summary:

Word count: 6.4k (18 pages)

Warnings for this chapter: swearing

Key:Y/n= your name | L/n= last name | M/n= mom name |d/n= dog name

Notes:

So, basically it's been over a year since I updated... oops...! nothing tragic happened, my life's been chill, I guess I just chose not to write for a while. But we're so back now! Expect some minor typos lol

As Y/n approached the entrance of the labyrinth, she scanned her surroundings carefully. The breeze was gentle, almost as if someone were blowing lightly in her face. The atmosphere was thick with uneasiness, making her feel as if she were being watched. Although she was in the labyrinth, she knew not to expect it to unfold like it did in the movie; she would have to rely on her own judgment and intuition. 

The large, enigmatic doorways creaked open, and without hesitation, she stepped inside. Instead of finding a horizontal passage as she had expected, she was greeted by a long, straight path ahead. It resembled a more morbid version of the film, with a narrow pathway flanked by towering, decaying bricks covered in mold and cracks. The ground was littered with dead branches and debris, adding to the sense of desolation.

Y/n grunted and scrunched her nose in disgust. It reeked of something worse than death. 

D/n whimpered, clearly affected by the smell as well. 

They ventured forth, Y/n steeped on fallen tree branch debris and stepped over logs. The sky was bleak and overcast; the path ahead of them seemed never-ending.

“I wonder if there are any walls I can walk through. Let’s try.” Y/n concluded, turning to face one of the decaying brick walls. She outstretched her hands cautiously only to feel the cold harsh surface of nothingness.

“Damn it,” she muttered, turning ahead and continuing onward. 

Only something was off.

The path was getting narrower, and the air started becoming thin. Y/n’s chest began to heave up and down, stopping suddenly to pick up D/n and scooping them into her arms. 

“What the hell?” she questioned now strolling with caution. She whips her head back only to be met with a dead end. 

Her mouth fell open in disbelief, shocked that she had been unknowing that the path was closing behind her this entire time. Her heart began to lodge in her throat, adrenaline coursing through her veins. 

“I’m scared…” she breathes out, her nerves shaking as she clutches D/n tighter, “what if we never get out?” 

“Oh, cut the negative self-talk, Y/n, we’ll be alright.” A voice bellowed, causing Y/n to jolt due to its suddenness and nearness.

She eagerly turned her attention from the dead end to other places, trying to locate where the sound was coming from,“Who was that?” she questioned with a sense of urgency.

“Here, silly.” It was D/n.

Y/n was in shock, she immediately put D/n down and took a step back, barely brushing the wall.

“D/n, did you just talk?” She replied. 

“Yes ma’am,” D/n replied with a wag of their tail. 

Y/n relaxed a bit, “I shouln't even be surprised.”

“Let’s stop the chatter and move forward. It’s looking like things are going to get tough from here on out, but we must make the best of it,” D/n said, turning to face the narrow path ahead. Y/n followed behind, her claustrophobia at its peak. She pressed herself against the wall to avoid feeling trapped, glancing back from time to time to see the dead end still looming behind her. Sweat continued to drip down her body, and her breathing grew heavier as she envied D/n, who walked through the tight space with ease.

“Wait, we’re taking this for granted. There’s gotta be a way out.” Y/n concluded which made D/n stop in their tracks. 

“Whatever do you mean?” D/n asked.

“Nothing is always what it seems in this place.” She replied, turning back to the dead end and reaching her hand through it. 

To her surprise, there was no brick stopping her hands. It was another pathway. 

“D/n follow me, I found another way!” She breathed.

In the midst of walking through the wall, the only clear way was right, but it was a different vibe than the previous one. Itwas maze-like with green bushes all around it, and a sky so clear you’d think it was a different dimension.

“This way.” Y/n declared as her and D/n ventured forth beyond the green.

“The labyrinth really requires you to think outside of the box, so we must think spontaneously,” Y/n commented turning a corner. 

“And by spontaneously do you mean mindlessly turning whichever corner you wish rather than thinking strategically?” D/n retorted. 

“Thinking logically in such a place won’t do,” Y/n replied, coming to a halt, “It seems like we’re not getting anywhere when in fact, we are.”  She looks left, seeing that there are other paths to venture in.

“One hundred and one…one hundred and two…haha! Gotcha.” A croaky voice boasts. 

“I hear someone.” D/n points out.

“Me too,” Y/n responds, “it’s close I can feel it.” She breathes out.

A spraying noise, “one hundred and three..!”

Y/n's eyes widen in realization, her mouth becomes agape once more, and she leans forward. 

“Hoggle.”

“Hm?” D/n questioned, clearly confused. 

“This way.” Y/n says immediately making her way towards the spraying noises and counting.

“One hundred and ten..! Hah!” The voice was getting louder. Y/n’s body pulsated with anticipation and eagerness as they made their way towards Hoggle, she was determined to meet him more than ever. 

He was killing fairies with spray once they approached him. The fairies gasp in dismay as they get attacked with the poisonous chemicals. Y/n watched as Hoggle triumphed during each kill, not that she blamed him, they bit people. 

“Hello, Hoggle.” Y/n greeted from behind him.

The dwarf flinched in surprise and turned around, his gaze immediately landing on the taller girl and her companion before him. He scrutinized her, taking in the slightly disheveled hair, the dried blood splotches decorating her skin, and her dewy visage. Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she called his name, leaving him to wonder how she had known who he was right off the bat.

Yet, he couldn't shake the thought that she was strikingly beautiful.

Just Jareth’s type.

Hoggle let out a sigh laced with both disappointment and irritation. He sensed she might not make it, and it pained him to think that such a beautiful existence could be fading away.

“Oh, it’s you.” He huffed out, returning to his normal killing spree. 

“I don't blame you for killing those things,” Y/n commented, referring to the fairies, "they bite.”

Hoggle stopped, turning around again with a sour look, “How did you know that, huh?”

“I’m a smart gal,” Y/n stated with a shrug. 

“Well,” Hoggle began spraying yet another fairy, “you're clearly not if you’re snoopin’ around here.”

“Look, man, I don't have a choice.” Y/n said in defeat. 

Hoggle stopped spraying and gave her a glare,making sure he got his point across. "Everyone has a choice, and you chose to be dumb.”

D/n sneezed.

Y/n rolled her eyes, not fazed by the Goblin's audacity, “Well, since you’re so pressed about me being here, you should probably help me get out of here so you won't have to see me again.”

Hoggle brought  his hands to his hips, “and what makes you think I’ll help anyone of the likes of you?”

“Oh please, you help everyone who runs the labyrinth, don’t act brand new.” Y/n retorted. 

“Well, only under certain circumstances… but it’s been nearly a decade since anyone has last run the labyrinth.”

“Certain circumstances, really?” Y/n deadpanned unamused.

Hoggle nodded, looking at the girl suggestively which immediately registered to Y/n that he wanted something. 

She furrowed her eyebrows. What could this short stack possibly want from a girl who’d just been dragged through the pillars of hell in an hour and a half?

The image of Sarah’s plastic bracelet flashed into her mind.

Y/n glanced at her wrists and hands, only to find them empty. She often forgot to put on her bracelets. An idea sparked within her. 

“Alright, Hoggle, I’ll make you a deal.” She stepped closer and knelt to his level, locking eyes with him.

“Once I reach Jareth’s castle, I’ll give you something of his.”

Hoggle jumped back, shock registering in his eyes. 

“Have you gone mad? Do you know—”

“Look, getting to the castle means I’ve defeated the Labyrinth, which means I can do whatever I want.” 

Hoggle gulped. “I’m not so sure about that… Jareth is—”

“He’s not scary,” Y/n deadpanned, “there’s gotta be something of his that you want.” 

Hoggle hesitated but then nodded, although reluctantly. 

“Then it’s settled,” Y/n said, standing back up. “Alright, Hoggle, let’s get to it because I have nine hours left, so…” 

“Nine already?” Hoggle frowned. “You’re not the brightest,” he grumbled. 

“No, Jareth gave me ten hours instead of thirteen because he’s a jackass,” Y/n shot back. 

Hoggle jumped again, his eyes widening. “Ten? You must’ve done something to upset him.” 

Y/n shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, no…” 

“Well alright, follow me,” he grunted, abandoning his sprayer as he started walking. “Tell me the rest on our way.” 

Y/n and D/n followed right after him, eventually walking side by side with Hoggle.

As they journeyed, Y/n, Hoggle, and D/n chatted about the events leading up to their convoluted adventure through the Labyrinth. 

“She wished her mom away, can you believe that?” D/n shook his head in disbelief. 

“It was a joke! Of course I didn’t mean it,” Y/n replied, trying to keep the light mood. 

“Jareth has other plans,” Hoggle retorted, a hint of stubbornness in his tone. 

Despite the banter, a gnawing fear about what Y/n’s mother might be enduring tugged at her stomach. Jareth was cruel, but he couldn’t be that cruel, could he? 

She swallowed a lump in her throat.

They continued walking for what felt like hours until finally coming upon a wooden door—standing alone in the middle of their path.

“Uh, why is there a door in the middle of the path?” Y/n asked, tilting her head slightly. 

D/n shrank back, uncertainty etched on his face. “I don’t trust this.” 

“Me neither,” Y/n agreed, voice low. 

Hoggle sighed, walking toward the door. “You see, the Labyrinth is full of surprises. This might just lead to the castle.”

Y/n squinted at him, reading the tone of his voice. “You haven’t seen anything like this.” 

Hoggle fumbled for words. “N-no… but we have to be open-minded." 

Inching closer, Y/n shook her head dismissively. “Whatever, just open the door and see what’s inside first.” 

Without hesitation, Hoggle reached for the knob, on his tiptoes, and pulled it open to reveal a tunnel lined with bricks and torches. 

“Wow, not sketchy at all,” Y/n said, deadpan. 

“We’ve been on this route for almost an hour; let’s give it a go. There’s always a way out, after all,” D/n reassured. 

Eight hours. That was all that was left before the fate of Y/n’s life—and her mother’s—would be decided.

What if she were being tortured, tied to a post, humiliated, spat on? What if she were enslaved, starved behind rusty bars in a dungeon, or worse, beaten?

Y/n swallowed another glob of emotion in her throat, her breath growing shaky as she peered into the tunnel beyond the wooden doorframe, her tear-stricken eyes fixated on her mother.

“I won’t cry,” she whispered to herself, “Mom is safe. It is my wish that she is safe and being treated with care.”

“Mom is safe.”

Unbeknownst to her, the words slipped louder than intended, echoing through the stillness of the atmosphere. A gust of wind suddenly tousled her hair, and Y/n’s expression shifted from mild worry to steely determination.

Without another word, she charged forward, unwilling to wait any longer.

This was about her mother’s safety.

But it was also about proving that she could be an adult.

 

 

 

Deep within the twisted corridors of the Labyrinth, the goblin king lounged on his throne, exuding a nonchalant power. His legs sprawled wide, the black shirt he wore was carelessly undone, revealing a glimpse of defiance. His gaze, sharp and penetrating, remained fixed on the swirling images within the crystal ball, which danced beneath the practiced motions of his leather-clad fingers.

But then, everything changed. When Y/n stepped into view through the looming archway of that foreboding door, an electric tension crackled in the air. His lips tightened into a thin line as the atmosphere shifted palpably, signaling her arrival with an undeniable force.

He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. 

He was so engrossed in the ball that he barely heard the soft footsteps of one of his goblin subjects as they entered the room. 

“Sire?” the goblin called out, repeating the word until Jareth finally snapped out of his trance.

“What do you want?” Jareth replied, irritation lacing his voice.

“The lady captive… she said she hungry—”

“Feed her,” Jareth commanded, cutting him off with a wave of his hand. “Ensure she’s bathed and give her something decent to wear. Now, get out of my sight; your stench is overwhelming.” His tone was sharp and clipped, as if the words were driven by some unseen force, each one sharper than the last.

With a sudden burst of energy, the goblin burst through the door, slamming it shut behind him. Jareth slumped deeper into his seat, his gaze fixated on the three figures in the ball, his expression devoid of any amusement. He silently calculated that Hoggle would be his unlikely ally in this endeavor, which meant he had to twist the labyrinth into something far more challenging and unpredictable. Abandoning the script entirely, Jareth grinned to himself—after all, where was the fun in playing by the rules?

He tilted his head back, trying to focus on the young woman at the ball, seemingly unfazed by the unsettling atmosphere of the tunnel. He studied her face; it was evident she wasn’t keen on revealing much emotion, yet there was something in her presence that made him grip the ball tighter. Shifting in his seat, he felt an unfamiliar tension as he examined her eyebrows, furrowing slightly above her wispy lashes that framed her eyes. But what was most intruiging about her eyes,was the way they surveyed her surroundings with such attention.

Her plump lips, slightly parted as she spoke in a low, raspy voice—was she parched? His attention drifted down to her hips, watching how they moved with an effortless grace that was impossible to ignore. For a moment, he lost himself in that rhythm before forcing his gaze back to her face. A quiet frustration bubbled beneath the surface and h elet out a grunt; he was alone and had already commanded the goblins to tidy the castle. For he needed to be alone with his thoughts.

 

 

 

 

 

“Don’t go on!”

“Turn back while you still can!”

“This is not the way!”

“Take heed and go no further!”

“Beware…beware…!”

The three of them trudged through the grim tunnel, ignoring the talking walls that seemed to stare them down with their long, miserable faces. Cracked stone lined the path, with mushrooms and moss creeping in, the air heavy with the stench of decay. A couple of dead rats greeted them as they made their way deeper into the darkness.

They did in fact encounter a dead rat or two upon arrival. 

“This place is horrible!” D/n exclaimed. 

“What did you expect? Flowers and rainbows?” Hoggle retorted, still leading them.  

“Sarah really was tough to get through this.” Y/n murmured. 

Hoggle stopped abruptly, and turned to face her curiously, “What about Sarah?" 

“I read a book about her, that's all.” Y/n shrugged.

“Oh? She writes books now?” Hoggle pondered aloud.

“No, I read a book about her.” Y/n corrected, but Hoggle had already turned away.

“Bah what do I know, she hasn't talked to us in years.”  he voiced in a way that didn't exude disinterest.

“Well, she’s probably all grown up now. Married, a job, maybe a few kids she hasn’t wished away yet,” Y/n joked lightly. 

Hoggle opened his mouth to say something,until  a glimmer of light flickered on the path to her right. “Let’s check it out—light at the end of the tunnel!” she declared, a spark of hope igniting within her. As they moved toward the light, it intensified, almost blinding. 

“Oh dear…” Hoggle trembled, shielding his eyes, while D/n suggested hesitantly, “Maybe we shouldn’t go on.” 

Y/n squinted, wishing for sunglasses as the brightness became unbearable. “This light is strange; something isn’t right,” she said, concern threading her voice. 

Suddenly, the overwhelming brightness diminished, morphing into a smaller, focused glow that advanced toward them. 

Y/n instinctively reached for the knife in her pocket, gripping it as tension hung in the air. “What is this place?” she began, but her voice trailed off when she realized it wasn’t a threat, just a little worker goblin sporting a headlight and a blue hoodie. It paused in front of them, placed down two wooden buckets, and continued without a word, disappearing into the shadows. D/n approached the buckets first, quickly followed by Hoggle and Y/n.

Inside, they found fresh water, clear and inviting.

“Huh…” Y/n knelt closer, inspecting it for any signs of impurity. 

Finding none, she couldn’t resist—she lifted one bucket and dunked her face in, drinking deeply. D/n joined her, and even Hoggle took a sip from the other bucket. The water was icy cold and refreshing. 

Y/n emerged, gasping, eyes widened in surprise at how much she needed it. Content, she tilted her head back, letting droplets trickle down her flushed face as she caught her breath. 

“Man, I really needed that,” she sighed, thoroughly invigorated. 

With renewed energy, she turned toward the path ahead, noticing a clear exit now in sight. “Weird, it was dark just a moment ago,” she observed. 

“Lucky us, right when I was about to complain,” D/n chimed in, tail wagging as they pressed forward.

Emerging from the tunnel, they found themselves in a maze with walls of turf stretched endlessly. The ground beneath them made of cracked stone.

Y/n drew a sharp breath, turning to Hoggle, “you sure you know where we're going? Because it feels like we haven'tmade much progress.”

Hoggle raised his hands defensively. “Look, the labyrinth is different for everyone. I can't promise a way out” 

Y/n wanted to accuse him for lying, but so far, they haven’t experienced anything that was even from the Labyrinth book or film. 

Glancing back, she realized the entrance had vanished, leaving nothing but a solid wall of turf surrounding them on all sides.

“Are you kidding me?” she groaned, tossing her head back in exhaustion. 

“There’s gotta be some way out,” she muttered walking toward the turf and smacking her hand into it only to be met with nothing. She tried all four sides and had no luck. 

“I don't know how else to think outside the box.” Y/n huffed hopelessly. 

She looked up, notcing that the turf around them visibly growing, alsmot as if it were trying to enclose them.

“Well, you’re not thinking hard enough.” Hoggle retorted. 

“Is it really necessary to be a smartass all the time?" Y/n shot back, closing her eyes momentariyl as she tried to supressher annoyance.

“And you didn't have to run this labyrinth.” Hoggle huffed defensively, glancing around for a way out

.

Y/n halted, her attention fixed on him as he shuffled nervously in the growing foliage. She marched over, grabbed him by the ear, and yanked him down. Hoggle yelped in surprise and pain. 

There was a sudden rustling of leaves, as if something around them were stretching.  

“Look, twat," Y/n said, her voice growing sharp, "My mom’s life is in jeopardy,  I’m this close to losing my shit, and it'snot even three hours have passed." She pinched her fingers together to emphasize her point. "So, if you really want something of Jareth's, I  suggest you cut it out!”  

A snap of a twig punctuated her words, tension thickening the air. Hoggle looked up, swallowing hard. He wanted to say something else, but reluctantly sighed in defeat instead. 

“Y/n try to breathe, we’re going to find m/n,” D/n urged, stepping closer, their soft loving gaze washed over the sting of tension like a balm. “Let's take a moment, an idea will come; I promise.”

“‘Yeah, listen to the dog,' Hoggle muttered loud enough for Y/n to hear. 

Y/n bit her cheek, ready to retort, but instead turned her gaze to the ground, noticing the faint rumbling beneath her feet, causing her stomach to churn. 

“Y/n…” D/n coaxed again, their voice sending warmth through her chest. It eased her, so instead of acknowledging Hoggle, she started to pace around, pondering for a moment.

“D/n, this feels like some twisted joke.” Y/n sighed, her heartbeat quickened as reality settled in. All she wanted was to be safe at home, curled up next to her mom. 

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, yet her expression remained stoic; "I shouldn't have wished my mom away, I’m so conflicted.” She whispered, her hand instinctively rising to cover her mouth. "I'm just so conflicted."

The turf only stretches, spiraling towards what looked like a final sealing. 

The ground rumbled again, the sensation sending a wave of panic through her as the turf advanced, finally shrouding them in darkness. 

Y/n felt a deep welding in her chest, like something was starting to ravage her ribs.

“Oh wow!” She exclaimed, mildly stomping her foot in frustration, a crack.

The floor gave way beneath them from the impact, sending them plummeting downward into the abyss.

They were enveloped in more darkness as they spiraled downward. There was no time to scream, not a moment to think. As gravity claimed her, her arms flailed helplessly in the void, searching for something solid to grasp. The world dissolved into an inky blackness, and all she could feel was the tug of fear tightening in her chest.

But then, the fall transformed, turning into a surreal drift, like floating through ink— slow, silent, suspended. Her senses dulled, muted by the heavy veil of nothingness, the weight in her chest grew, pulling her deeper into the unseen despair. 

Finally, she made contact with the ground, the impact was harsh and contrast—cold cobblestones pressed against her palms and knees. Instinct kicked in, and she began to probe the surface for something real, something real, amidst the unsettling void.

“D/n? Hoggle?” Her voice wavered, and her breathing echoed off the walls—if there were any. She couldn't tell up from down; her eyes felt blanketed by the pitch darkness, with silence so suffocating that it felt unnatural.

Somehow in the abyss, she was, yet it felt like nowhere. 

A wet nose nudged against her knee, and she exhaled shakily. “D/n... good. You’re here.” Her fingers tangled in familiar fur, still shaking.

“Oh my gosh, this is an oubliette.” She murmured, her words being swallowed by the chasm of darkness.

“This is an oubliette; the labyrinth is full of them,” Hoggle's voice echoed in her mind from the movie.

Her heart raced. If she did not act now, she might be forgotten.

“Damn, I’m cooked.” She said, immediately getting up, only for her head to bump against a rough surface.

She grunted in pain, kneeling back down and rubbing the top of her head.

“Oh, so now things want to have borders.” She muttered through gritted teeth.

“Y/n, we should go straight; I sense something,” D/n said, still loyally by her side.

“It could be Hoggle,” Y/n assumed hopefully.

“It’s not.”

“Well, it’s too dark for there to be an exit.”

“You’re right; it’s something much more different, I fear.”

Y/n crawled forward, the ceiling so low that she had to stay on her hands and knees. Her shoulder brushed against the stone, and the space pressed in tighter with every inch.

“Keep going straight,” D/n murmured, uneasy.

Suddenly, the darkness blinked.

A pulse of soft, opaline light flickered ahead—small and impossibly still.

Then it vanished.

“D/n, did you see that?” Y/n whispered, squinting her eyes.

“See what—oh that?” 

The light appeared again, but it was a soft glow, a tiny circle floating in the abyss, strangely not illuminating anythingaround it.

The closer they got, the more it shimmered. Her face was haloed by its pale light, her lips parted and eyes wide in wonder at its reflection. Sweat darkened her cami strap as it slid off her shoulder; her triceps trembled with effort. She reached out, trembling fingers grazing its warmth.

The light shuddered and then burst.

A lash sliced through the dark like a blade, searing white-blue. The walls rippled, and the light stretched upward until it shaped itself into a figure.

The glow faded.

Leaving him standing before her.

At that moment, the girl forgot how to breathe. Her veins dilated, and her bones vibrated.

She looked up at him while he looked down at her; the silence between them thrummed.

“You do have a talent for getting lost, don’t you?” Jareth said, finally, his voice laced with smoothness but tinged with disdain.

She blinked, trying to steady her voice. “You put me here.”

He tilted his head, amused. “Can’t take the blame for once, can you?”

She was quiet for a moment.

Jareth's nose twitched in faint disapproval. “Get up.”

With embarrassment and defiance, Y/n pushed herself to her feet, brushing the dust off her palms. She stood her ground, feet planted in place.

Jareth began to circle her, slow and deliberate, his scent a mix of warmth and sin.

“Tell me, Y/n, how are you enjoying my labyrinth?" He challenged.

“I’m not answering that.” 

“It’s not a ‘piece of cake,’ then?” he teased, amusement dancing in his eyes. 

Y/n quirked an unimpressed brow. “Was it supposed to be?”

He stopped behind her, his voice dropped, “It’s meant to be impossible, and yet here you are. Still breathing. Still defiant.”

A chill crawled along her spine as his breath brushed dangerously against her neck. “You mortals never learn when to stop struggling,’ he murmured, “You’re every bit as foolish as the last one who thought she could wish her way through me.”

Y/n inhaled slowly, closing her eyes to steady her racing heart. “It’s really not that deep. I just want to find my mom,” she managed, her voice wavering slightly. 

Jareth clicked his tongue in mock disappointment, stepping back to study her face, recognition flaring in his eyes. “Are you certain that’s all you desire? Or are you merely trying to survive me?” 

It wasn’t just his words that ensnared her; it was the lingering touch of his gloved fingertips gliding gently across her shoulder that sent her heart racing. And then, just like that, he vanished. The sensation of his touch lingered like static electricity, electrifying her skin. 

“Y/n,” D/n’s voice broke the spell, soft and concerned. 

She remained silent, lost in the remnants of the moment. 

D/n nudged her with their wet nose, but she ignored it, lost in thought. 

Above them, a sudden sound disrupted the stillness: dirt shifting, tumbling, and then a hole opened in the ceiling. Warmlight streamed down, and a wooden ladder creaked as it descended within reach. 

The spell was broken. 

“Y/n, look!” D/n exclaimed, already dashing toward the new light. “Hoggle!”

As if she had no mind of her own, Y/n rushed to the ladder, gripping the rungs and looking up as well. "How did you get up there?"

"Well, it just so happened that I didn't fall through the ground," Hoggle replied, a little too cockily.

Y/n grabbed D/n and started climbing up using one arm. "Impossible! The whole ground collapsed," she pointed out.

Hoggle rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well, yeah, but I held on to something, which you could've done."

"Alright, dude," Y/n huffed, finally reaching the top and pulling both herself and D/n out of the hole. "It all happened so fast."

Y/n stood up, dusting herself off. Hoggle studied her for a moment before looking away, shifting uncomfortably.

"I guess that's what happens when you let emotions get the best of you." She voiced, looking around her. 

The floors were adorned with spirals of brown cobblestone, their thickness bordered by overgrown maze turf. Embeddedin the turf stood four imposing wooden doors, each intricately carved with sleeping wooden faces. Y/n continued to scan her surroundings, taking in the peculiar atmosphere that surrounded her. The doors, spaced out, loomed before her like a big trial. With just under seven hours left of this folly, she felt a growing impatience bubble within her.

"Which one should we approach first?" D/n inquired, their voice laced with caution as they examined the unique features on each door.

Y/n was instinctively drawn to the door diagonally to their left. It seemed to be in a deep, serene slumber, its edges soft and inviting, with crow's feet delicately framing its eyes, giving it an air of age-worn wisdom. The door radiated a palpable aura of knowledge and serenity, captivating her.

She leaned in closer, inspecting the intricate carvings that adorned its surface, and noticed a striking plus sign etched between its knitted brows, a symbol that piqued her curiosity. 

Without a doorknob to beckon her, Y/n hesitated only briefly before she reached out tentatively, her fingertips brushing against the door's face. With a gentle yet playful tap on its nose, she booped it softly. The response was immediate—a mild scrunch of wood and a low, rumbling grunt, as if the door were waking from a long dream.

The door blinked itself awake, wood creaking like old bones. 

"Who dares disturb my slumber?" it groaned, yawning. 

"Someone who doesn't have time for your beauty sleep," Y/n replied flatly, arms crossed. 

The door huffed. "Impatience. Typical of youth."

Y/n wasn't moved. "I know you're not going to let me through unless I solve something."

They were interrupted by yet another loud, more boisterous yawn. Y/n started and turned her attention to the door across from them. Its face took on a much younger appearance, but it still looked wise with an upside-down triangle on its forehead. He eyed Y/n, "My, my, a young girl. What brings you here, sweetheart?" He spoke with a forceful tone, sounding like a cocky middle-aged man hitting on a woman at the bar, which made Y/n cringe at the distastefulness.

"I'm trying to get through to the center of the labyrinth," Y/n answered.

"Wow, how long has it been since we've seen a mortal run this labyrinth..." bellowed a sleepier, gentler voice. Y/nsnapped her neck to the far left and saw the other door awake, looking upon her with soft, gentle eyes. His face was much older and more cracked than the others, with a circle on his forehead.

"It's been a long time, a long, long time," a slow and low voice chimed in. The final door, nodding in agreement, had a half-moon symbol between its brows.

Y/n stepped back, ensuring she was equally in view of all the doors. She would let this interaction decide her next move.

"So, what's the catch? I know there's one," Y/n pushed.

"Mm, this one's got fire to it," the Triangle chuckled smugly.

"Fire burns quick if it isn't tended," the Half-Moon chimed in.

Y/n exhaled, rubbing her temple. "Do you all talk in riddles, or is that just an insufferable personality trait?"

The Plus-Sign spoke, his voice low and steady, but holding firm in the atmosphere. "We are keepers of choices, girl. Eachof us leads somewhere different."

Y/n tilted her head. "So basically... a fifty-fifty chance of doom?"

"Twenty-five," Y/n muttered. "Don't make it worse."

The doors ignored her sarcasm.

The Triangle Door chuckled, eyes narrowing. "She doesn't need lessons. She's bold, has some edge, and seems to hold her own. That's something I admire; not a lot of girls are like that."

Y/n shot the Triangle Door a look. "You sound like a bad Tinder date."

The Circle Door—slow and deliberate—rumbled, "The young always mock what they don't yet understand."

The Plus-Sign Door resurfaced. "Each path reflects the truth of you, girl. Choose the one that frightens you least, or the one that frightens you the most. Either way, you'll learn."

"None of you really scares me, if I'm being honest."

The Half-Moon Door sighed. "Look at her, standing unshaken, even as she lies to herself."

Y/n squinted. "Excuse me?"

The Half-Moon Door blinked slowly, its voice dripping with pity. "You call it strength," it said, "but you'reovercompensating."

"I'm not overcompensating for anything."

"Then why run toward the impossible," the door murmured, "and call it courage?"

"Cowards run away from the impossible," Y/n shot back, her tone flat. "Don't try to fit me into your pity bubble."

The air thickened with a palpable tension, humming softly as if the labyrinth itself held its breath in anticipation. Hoggleclutched his chest, feeling the weight. 

The Plus-Sign Door’s voice remained smooth, grounding the swirling unease. “All doors reveal. Few forgive. Choosewisely.”

“She’s got a tongue on her. I like that,” the Triangle Door purred, its tone dripping with sly intrigue as if savoring the unfolding drama.

"You've already made that clear," Y/n retorted, refusing to acknowledge the door's burning gaze.

"Tell me, girl..." the voice slowed, each word dripping with allure, "has that mouth ever truly granted you what you desired most?"

Y/n’s breath caught, her pulse quickening. The familiar cadence of that voice both thrilled and unsettled her.

She turned her head slowly, swallowing deeply. "You sound like every mistake I've almost ever made."

“Almost made? Perhaps you haven’t truly lived enough to discern the fine line between danger and desire,” the Triangle replied, its voice rich and deliberate, resonating in the thick air.

An unseen force shifted around them, expanding the tension that enveloped the space, tightening the atmosphere like a drawn bowstring, ready to release.

D/n, sensing the gravity of the moment, tucked their tail between their legs.

“You call it courage,” the Triangle murmured, its voice low and enticing, “but in truth, it’s hunger."

Y/N’s breath hitched as she instinctively puckered her lips. Her eyes locked onto the Triangle's—its sharp edges radiating defiance—while it met her gaze with a daring intensity that made her pulse race. She blinked rapidly, feeling every heartbeat. "You're projecting," she breathed, her voice softer than intended, edged with a tremor. 

The Circle door interrupted, its voice steady. "Desire devours the undisciplined. Fire, as we mentioned, can't be tamed."

"Enough with the fire analogies!" Y/N groaned, tilting her head back in annoyance. 

"Um, Y/N, why don't you pick, for old time's sake?" Hoggle ventured after a long silence, shuffling his feet hesitantly and looking up at her with hopeful eyes. 

"I'm not choosing the Triangle or the Moon, that's for sure," she muttered, her gaze darting between the Plus Sign and the Circle door. 

Her eyes flicked back to the Triangle door, which seemed to watch her with a knowing stare.

"To clear the air, dear," the Triangle door began, its voice now possessed was smooth and soothing with a rich undertone,"what I meant by hunger was hunger for independence. You don't want guidance; you desire freedom. But freedom always comes at a cost." 

Y/N remained rooted in her place, despite the warmth igniting in her chest, feeling the tug between being understood and being challenged.

"I'm being honest— you've been wandering in endless circles, surrendering to the expectations of others. I won't scold or lecture you. I'll let you be your true self. All you have to do is step through," it coaxed, the words wrapping around herlike a warm embrace. 

The Half Moon door stirred, its gentle surface cracking as if breaking the bad news. "No matter which door you choose, it will reveal a fragment of yourself that you may not like, regardless of whether it's the right or wrong path. Every direction demands a toll of your identity—your sanity, your dignity."

The Circular door interjected sharply, its voice cutting through the air like a blade. "These enticing words are mere illusions, tempting you with the allure of what you desire. But remember, choice without influence is just another cage."

The Plus Sign door added, "Every young soul beats against the walls that raised them. Your rebellion doesn't make you unique, girl." 

Y/N clenched her jaw, she understood, but was still conflicted.

"Come now," the Triangle coaxed again. 

Y/N's eyes drifted back towards it, temptation creeping in. 

"Unless, of course," it purred, "you’re afraid of discovering that you truly want."

The door's mouth moved aligned with the words, yet the sound echoed around her, filling the space with a disorienting resonance. Then the air behind her shifted, brushing against the nape of her neck like a whisper that lingered only inches away.

Hoggle shuffled closer, his voice apprehensive. "Y-Y/N, I don't like the sound of that one..."

She cast one final, lingering glance between them all. The Triangle grinned slyly, the Half Moon regarded her with sympathetic pity, and the Plus Sign had grown still, almost ominously. Yet, the Circular door remained patient, its surface exuding a calm assurance.

"You value discipline," it conveyed softly, its voice like a balm.

"And freedom," she countered, a hint of defiance underlying her words.

"They're not opposites," it answered gently. "You just need to learn to harmonize the two."

Her breath hitched as something deep within her chest cracked open—an aching acceptance surged forward. She pressed her hand against the Circle's surface, which pulsed warmly beneath her fingers, exuding a golden glow. 

"Fine," she whispered with resolution. "Show me what I've been missing."

The door opened with a low hum that resonated like a heartbeat, enveloping her in a sense of recognition and possibility. With a surge of determination, she stepped forward, plunging into the game that awaited her.

Chapter 4: Ensnared

Summary:

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings for this chapter: light swearing

Key:Y/n= your name | L/n= last name | M/n= mom name |d/n= dog name

The crystal danced with light between Jareth’s gloved fingers as he watched Y/n press her palm to the circular door, drawn toward its beckoning glow. His eyes tracked her every move until the sphere’s brilliance faded, leaving him alone with his own reflection.

A goblin barged in without warning, peering up at his master with wide, submissive eyes.

“Sire!” It squeaked, “The lady captive requests his majesty’s presence over supper.” 

Jareth arched a brow, a sly glint in his eye. “Does she now?”

He spun the crystal in his palm until it vanished. “Then we shall entertain our guest.”

Jareth strode through the castle’s narrow corridors, stopping before a pair of mahogany doors that guarded a smaller dining room. Without hesitation, he swept them open.

Flickering torches lined the dining room walls, while a chandelier of dim candles hovered above a sandstone table laden with a lavish charcuterie board, a black cauldron of soup, and platters of fresh bread. The air brimmed with the aroma of wine and spiced broth. Goblins stood rigid, twitching with every echo of Jareth’s boots on stone.

At the far end sat M/n, freshly bathed and dressed as instructed, though her rigid posture betrayed her nerves. She wore a crisp white blouse under a black corset, black leather pants, and flats—a clumsy attempt at civility.

Jareth surveyed the goblins with a cool gaze before flicking his hand to dismiss them. He settled across from M/n, lounging back with arms folded in effortless command.

M/n leaned forward, voice trembling between fear and authority. “Where’s my daughter?”

“Ah,” Jareth sighed, tilting his head, one of his hands goes up to cover his mouth in thought, “you mean the one who’s the reason why you’re here?”

M/n furrowed her eyebrows, “What are you talking about?”

Jareth offered no reply, only studied her face with a thoughtful gaze edged in hollowness.

“Hello?” M/n pushed irritably, crossing her arms. 

A sly smirk played at the king’s lips as his gaze dropped to the plate before him.

“Where’s my daughter?” She questioned once more, her face twisted in angst and worry. 

“It should be quite obvious…” Jareth teased, the smirk fading as he toyed idly with his shirt cuff.

“I’m not playing whatever twisted game you’re playing!” 

Jareth raised a brow, “But you’re already seated at my table.”

“Where is she?” she pushed once more, her eyes never leaving him.

“She’s safe,” he finally answered. “For now.”

“What do you mean by  ‘for now’?” M/n roared, slapping her palms against the table. 

“You demand," he hummed, “yet you never stop to ask why she wished you away.”

M/n snorted, "wished me away? She wouldn’t do that—not on purpose. I know my daughter.”

Jareth’s expression softened into mock pity, “young ones often don’t know the weight of their words.”

He picked up the cup of wine that was next to his plate and twirled it in his hand lazily, his eyes never leaving it.

“They speak, and the world bends for them… one way or another.” 

M/n tilted her head, not buying into Jareth’s dodge,  “Why would she do this? Certainly, it was an accident.” 

She swallowed hard, her confidence crumbling as she stared down at her plate, then back up at the Goblin King.

“It was an accident, right?"  She asked, leaning in for reassurance.

Jareth set the cup aside, his gaze snapping to meet M/n’s eyes. He studied her intently, elbow propped on the chair’s arm.

“That,” he said, resting his temple against his fingers, “is a labyrinth all on its own, isn't it?” 

His lips twisted into a half-smile, equal parts contemplation and venom.

“I don't understand. I’ve had her well under discipline. She loves me, she respects me, just as I love and respect her.” M/n defended. 

“Discipline.” 

The king spat the word as if it tasted of pity and bile.

“A convenient disguise,” he murmured, unimpressed.

“It’s not a disguise, your majesty. Parents are to raise their children in discipline rooted in love. Love above all.” She said triumphantly. 

“Love,” he repeated faintly, still looking at the woman across from him, but his mind went elsewhere. 

“Just fear me, love me…”

He blinked, never wavering in his commanding composure.

“What a pretty shield you carry.” He mocked. 

He reclined, crossing one leg over the other, hands folded with calculated ease.

A chill raced up M/n’s spine, not from allure but from the cold intensity of his stare.

“I give her stability,” she insisted, "I give her structure–”

“You give her limits and expectations,” he corrected, his gaze darkening as if he were watching a flame flicker out.

“And you truly believe she does not choke on it?”

M/n furrowed her eyebrows, coloring his words as nonsense, “Who are you to tell me how she feels? You don’t even know our relationship. In fact, you probably don’t even know yourself.” 

Jareth closed his eyes and let out a bitter chuckle, his posture sagging as the sound rippled through him.

His gaze remained down momentarily, his expression unreadable, “Oh, I know more than you think.”

A silence so thick it could smother torch flames settled over the room.

“Words spoken within the heart carry tremendous weight here. They shape paths. Create doors. Lead to dark places.”

Jareth’s gaze locked onto hers, his voice laced with a morbid confession.

“And her heart, my dear, wanted you gone.”

M/n almost shot to her feet—

The Goblin King lifted a single finger, and she froze in place.

“Sit.” 

She sank back into her seat before realizing she had obeyed.

“That’s a lie.” She croaked. 

“Then why is she running my labyrinth while you sit here bound in the chains you  thought were love?”

Fingers trembling on the chair’s edge, M/n blurted, “What is she doing? Where is she in this labyrinth?”

“She’s learning,” he said simply.

“Learning  what?”

His gaze sharpened, as if he were peering straight into her soul.

"The art of being unwatched."

He left the last part unsaid—

‘…by you,’

But the silence carried it all the same.

A faint glow flickered in his palm, the crystal restless to reveal what he would not say aloud.

 

 

 

 

Beyond the circular door that Y/n chose, the three entered a corridor glowing with golden light between obsidian walls. The whole place felt alive and beautiful. Y/n ran her hand along the wall and was surprised—it gave under her touch, soft and springy like memory foam, then slowly sprang back. The smooth, flawless surface shimmered, making her want to keep touching it, entranced by both its strange comfort and its beauty.

“Do you think this will lead to the castle?” She pondered, letting her eyes drink the light before her like some forbidden secret. 

D/n sniffed around, “I wish I could say.”

Hoggle pressed on in silence, eyes darting around as a sinking feeling pooled in his chest. The presence of his ruler seemed to loom over them, heavy and ominous.

Y/n continued behind him, her fingers never leaving the walls as her fingertips brushed the surface. The walls seemed to respond positively to the way they mold to her touch.

D/n frowned unpleasantly, “Oh boy, what is it now?”

Up ahead lay three tunnel paths.  Each remained patient, its surface corridors exuding an ominous aura that seemed to tug the three of them in. The one Y/n stood in front to let out a soft wind, like an ushering whisper of temptation. 

“How about this,” she began with an exhale, “Let’s each take one, and the one that's safest we’ll holler, run back,  and choose.”

“But what if something happens to one of us, and it’s not safe?” D/n questioned, their tail tucked between their legs. 

Y/n took a breath, “It’s the labyrinth, we’ll find our way back to each other regardless.”

“ I suppose…” D/n quivered uncertainly.

Hoggle, suddenly feeling a bolt of boldness, said, “Let’s each take the one we’re closest to, Y/n you take the far left, D/n the middle, and I’ll take the right!” he pointed at each entrance as he was assigned.

Y/n and D/n hummed in agreement, and they each submerged into the open arms of each entrance, entering their dark embraces. 

Down Y/n’s path, this time the obsidian walls glittered, as its gold veins seemed to breathe, the tunnel pulsing with life. It felt more alive than the corridor before. A rush of  warmth bloomed in her chest, as if the golden light was embracing her.

“Mom is safe…”

Her eyes slightly widened, and the memory of her uttering those words a while back came to her mind. 

“Mom is safe…”

A wave of relief swept through her, as if the labyrinth itself confirmed her words had become truth.

“Mom’s safe, it’s gonna be alright,” she affirmed to herself.

“Grow up.”

Y/n’s head whipped toward the sound—her mother’s voice, so close she could feel its breath on her neck, as if the words had been sneered right into her ear.

“Mom is safe…” the whispers mocked.

“Grow up.”

“Mom is safe.” 

“Grow up.”

The voice was no longer her mother's; it was a fluidity between something foreign. Before she knew it, an array of voices started filling the space, causing y/n to stop in her tracks and look around her hastily. Relief gave way to panic as she heard the eerie whispers turn into octaves of mockery and spite.

The final voice, her mother's through the phone, “Love you, bye,” echoed in the chambers after an abrupt wave of silence. 

That was the last thing she heard from her mom before Y/n hung up, never saying she loved her back.

A tidal wave of regret, guilt, sorrow, and stress crashed over her, threatening to drag her under. Yet, even as her body threatened to give out from sheer overwhelm, she forced herself forward. The emotions yanked at her heartstrings so fiercely she nearly doubled over, nausea rising. Desperate to scream, cry, or lash out in anguish, she gathered every ounce of that pain and turned it into the fuel that kept her moving.

Suddenly, the gold glow in the cracks surged, pulsating and swirling in wild, unpredictable patterns Y/n could barely comprehend.

“Fuck,” she cursed, stopping in her tracks and leaning against the wall, “this isn’t safe enough. Too much going on.”

She let her head fall against the obsidian wall, which cushioned her like memory foam. Eyes closed, she was startled by a glow so bright it pierced her eyelids.

She snapped her eyes open, realizing the glow was even brighter than she’d imagined.

The golden light spilled from the black walls, merging into a shimmering silhouette.

Her heart palpitated in anticipation, already bracing for whoever was to appear before her. 

The glow faded.

And there he stood: the same lithe figure radiating flamboyance and smugness. His outfit, though capeless, glittered with intricate designs. Those familiar eyes bored into hers with twisted amusement, his face unsmiling.

Jareth lounged against an obsidian pillar, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe.

“Mortals are so predictable.” He sighed. 

Y/n, not even bothering to fix her exhausted stance, muttered, “What are you getting at?”

“Did you think I wouldn't notice which door you chose?” He pointed out dryly. 

“And?” Y/n muttered, closing her eyes again as exhaustion seemed to drain the energy from her very core.

“Circle. Balance. How mature of you,” he hummed mockingly. 

She huffed, shoving herself off the wall. “Do you have to appear every time I’m in a cave? It’s getting predatory. I’m here to save my mom, not get played by you.”

Jareth quirked a brow, unmoved.

“You speak of saving her, yet every step you take is more for yourself.” He said calmly.

“You don’t know me.”

Jareth inhaled sharply—irritated, almost offended.

“Foolish girl. We’ve already made it clear that you hate being treated like a child. That is why you came running here.”

He pushed off the pillar with a bitter chuckle, advancing toward her slowly. 

“You act as if you’re difficult to decipher.”

His voice slipped into a low, velvety register.

“When will you learn? This is my labyrinth. And I know everything.”

“And when will you learn to leave me alone?” Y/n shot back.

The floor shifted beneath her, subtle but insistent, sliding her closer to him.

She blinked, suddenly only inches from him. She met his gaze, her face carefully unreadable as she fought to remain stoic.

“Careful,” Jareth murmured, eyes glinting.

“The labyrinth listens.”

His voice softened, turning intimate and edged with danger.

“It likes you… perhaps too much.”

A flare of heat twisted in her stomach, and she forced herself to ignore it.

He pulled back, their eyes locking in a silent clash of wills.

“So, what is balance to you?” she asked, trying to recenter herself.

“Knowing what you want, and refusing to lie about it.”

Y/n felt the heat between them, a forbidden pressure building in the air.

She tried to step back, but the ground held her down.

“You think I want this?” she hissed. “To run your labyrinth because of some stupid mistake I made?”

“No,” Jareth replied flatly, tilting his head with a flash of superiority.

“I think you need it.”

A smirk flickered at the corner of his mouth.

“You crave resistance. You’d be bored without someone pushing back.”

Her lips parted in disbelief. “You think this is fun for me?”

He began to circle her, his predatory scrutiny disguised as mere observation.

“Isn’t it?” he countered, “mortals love their struggle. It makes them feel alive.”

He slipped behind her, voice chilled against her spine.

“When does proving yourself stop feeling noble...”

A pause hung in the air, sharp as a blade.

“and start feeling like punishment?”

“For fuck’s sake, Plato,”  Y/n huffed, twirling on her heels to meet his eyes once again, “I’ve had it with the philosophical riddles.”

A wicked smile curled on the king’s lips.

“Plato?” he echoed, nearly chuckling.

“How flattering.”

Y/n stayed silent, a sour expression on her face. 

He simply studied her, long enough for her stomach to drop. 

“What a pity, you lash out when cornered,” he purred, his voice velvet and mocking.

“How very revealing.”

Y/n opened her mouth to retort, but Jareth silenced her with a single raised finger.

“You mistake speech for power.”

“Yet here you are.” Y/n spat out bitterly, her eyes scanned him in distaste. 

Jareth glared at her from beneath his blond mane, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, like a silent curse.

He started to inch toward her. Y/n attempted to step back, but the ambiance was so thick around them that her body betrayed her, and she found herself stepping closer to him as well.

The labyrinth listens.

“I know what the labyrinth does to people like you.” Jareth began, his voice exuding its natural velvety tone.

Y/n released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, locking eyes with him only to flicker her gaze, just once, to his lips.

“It breaks them.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, trying to ignore the fact that their faces were surprisingly close. “ And what does it do to you?” she challenged, lifting her chin slightly.

“Reminds me that they never learn.”  The king spoke bitterly.

A blade of tension sliced through the heavy air.

“Sarah learned.” Y/n countered.

Jareth’s expression flickered as the infamous memory he did not appreciate flooded his mind.

“You have no power over me.”

“But will you?” he asked, something sharpened in his expression, too quick to name.

He leaned in, slow and deliberate, until she felt the ghost of his breath brush her jaw.

“Careful, Y/n,” he murmured, a voice wrapped in temptation.

“Your gaze is a dangerous thing to let wander.”

Without hesitation, Y/n recoiled, shoving Jareth away before sprinting down the corridor. Her blood thundered in her ears, and her vision narrowed on the darkness ahead. She didn’t care about her breath or the obsidian dust staining her shoes—only that she was putting distance between herself and him.

She finally reached the end, searching frantically for her companions.

“D/n? Hoggle?” she called, her heart sinking as only silence answered.

“D/n! Hoggle!” she shouted, forcing her voice to sound bold despite the fear creeping in.

She started pacing around in the nothingness, tempted to grip her fingers at the root of other hair and tear it from her scalp. Her blood boiled, jaw clenched, and her body was far from relaxed. At every corner, she met a dark abyss; it was perhaps another oubliette. She didn’t know how much time she had left, but she knew it wasn't long. 

 

 

 

 

“D/n! Hoggle!”

Deep within the caves, Hoggle scurried toward the sound of his friend’s desperate cries.

“I’m coming, Y/n–” Hoggle said, venturing forth where he felt was best. 

Suddenly, he collided face-first with a hard knee and tumbled backward.

Hoggle looked up to find the Goblin King glaring down at him, far from pleased.

“Your Majesty! Fancy meeting you here!” Hoggle squeaked, his enthusiasm edged with fear.

“Higgle–” Jareth began.

“Hoggle!” The dwarf corrected with a grunt.

“If I remember correctly, we’ve stood in this very position before. Haven’t we?”

Hoggle’s throat bobbed. “Er—what position would that be, sire?”

“A position,” Jareth said, voice darkening to a velvety edge, “in which you betray your king.”

“Your majesty, I would never betray–”

“Come now, Hogbrain,” Jareth drawled. “Losing your wits over another girl?

“I ain't lost my head, I was simply accompanying her,”  Hoggle said in defense. 

“We both know where accompanying her will take you,” Jareth warned, letting the implication hang.

Hoggle lowered his head in shame, “The bog of eternal stench…”

Jareth scoffed, turning half away from his subject in disdain.

“All that girl cares about is proving herself; she wouldn't  be loyal to someone of the likes of you,” he sneered, almost childishly.

The dwarf mustered up the courage to say,  “But Sarah, she-”

Jareth flinched as if struck, then turned to face Hoggle fully, kneeling to his level and yanking him close by the collar.

“This labyrinth is not hers, Hogswart,” he said, each word promising, but razor sharp.

“All labyrinths shift with the heart that enters them. And your foolish hopes…”

His eyes burned with resentment, jealousy, and an ancient ache.

“Will only crown you Prince of the Land of Stench.”

Hoggle swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze.

Jareth released him with a contemptuous flick of his hand, dismissive as if tossing aside a disappointment.

Then, with a voice almost mocking in its softness:

“What now? Hoping she’d kiss you?”

A cruel smile curled at the edge of his mouth.

Hoggle shook his head, “You know I wouldn't wish such a thing.”

Jareth pursed his lips and waved his fingers. An ornate locket shimmered into existence in his gloved hand—a silver chain with an opal gemstone nestled between two silver clasps.

Hoggle frowned. 

“What is it?”

“A token,” Jareth said smoothly. “A gift. For the girl.”

Hoggle’s face pinched. “I don’t think she’d want nothin’ from you.”

“No?” Jareth countered with a dangerous softness to his voice. 

He dangled the locket by its chain, letting it sway hypnotically.

Hoggle swallowed, shivering slightly. 

“Your Majesty… is it like the  peach?”

Jareth smiled, cold and elegant. Underhand tossing the locket for Hoggle to catch.

“Give it to her. Tell her it will… remind her of home.”

Hoggle looked ill,  as if it might scorch his skin.

“And if I don’t?” he whispered.

Jareth narrowed his eyes.

“Very unfortunate things will happen.”

Hoggle froze. He knew what harm Jareth was capable of, and the harm wouldn't just be towards Hoggle himself. 

The Goblin King straightened, brushing invisible dust from his gloves.

“Do be careful, Hoggle,” he added lightly, brushing past him.

“I’d hate for you to end up in the Bog again.”

Hoggle turned around in the direction he had gone, but the king was long gone. 

Hoggle trudged along the winding cavern path, muttering anxiously to himself.

“Shouldn’ be doin’ this… shouldn’ be anywhere near that girl…”

He clutched the locket the Goblin King had thrust upon him.

Despite its beauty, it thrummed with dark magic.

A sudden bark echoed off the rock walls.

Hoggle froze.

“D/n…?” he whispered cautiously.

The creature bounded toward him, tail wagging as if the world held no troubles.

A few specks of obsidian dust on the paws, tongue hanging out, eyes bright and hopeful.

“Hoggle, there you are!  Did you hear Y/n’s call as well?” They panted.

Hoggle nodded firmly, “I did hears her call, but I can’t find her.”

“Good thing we have each other to find her; it was getting eerie back there,” D/n said.

Hoggle hummed in agreement, fingers tightening around the locket in his rough hands.

The dog tilted its head, eyes flicking to the dwarf’s clenched fist.

“What?” Hoggle quivered nervously.

D/n leaned in, lowered their head, and nudged his closed fist with gentle insistence.

“What’s in your hand?” they asked. 

“It’s–oh, um..!” Hoggle stuttered. 

But D/n nudged  insistently, “Could it help us? Must be important.”

Hoggle caught the hope etched in D/n’s voice.

Like the dog trusted him.

Hoggle’s stomach dropped. This felt worse than any Bog threat.

He slowly opened his fist, revealing the locket glinting in his trembling hand.

“Ah, what a beautiful artifact? Where did you get it?” D/n beamed with an enthusiastic wag of the tail. 

Hoggle felt sweat prickle at his brow. “I found it on the ground, on my way here.”

“Ah,” D/n said with a glint in their eyes, “it would look beautiful on Y/n, I’m sure it would make her feel better.”

“And…you’re absolutely right!” Hoggle exclaimed with fake enthusiasm.

Hoggle’s eyes darted down the tunnel; he could feel the sneering threat of the goblin king pulling at his chest. 

“Ohhh, blast it all…”

“I can’t give it to her…” he muttered again.

With trembling fingers, he slipped the chain around D/n’s neck.

“…but you can.”

As the clasp clicked shut, the locket shimmered faintly, as if recognizing its new bearer.

D/n barked happily. 

Hoggle had hoped the burden would lift, but instead it pressed heavier on his chest.

“Let’s venture forth, shall we?” D/n said triumphantly.

Hoggle nodded and turned on his heel; the two of them marched down the corridor in search of their friend.