Those Cruel Eyes

THIS IS A SEQUAL TO JIM HENSON'S LABYRINTH!! I would advise watching the movie beforehand.
Sarah has left the Goblin King alone in his world after falling in love with her. Years pass and she marries, banishing any hope of future love. But when Sarah calls out to him in an hour of need, will he put aside their differences and love again? Or is it just too much?


2. Chapter 1

Jareth was lounged across his throne, his legs dangling over the arm of the chair. He was alone, his only companion being the small crystal sphere he played with, spinning it in intricate knots through his fingers and arms. Although he enjoyed this pastime, he didn’t smile. He rarely had a reason to smile anymore. Jareth’s appearance had deteriorated the past three years. His skin, although usually quite fair, was a pale grey, stretched tight across his cheekbones from lack of appetite. His eyes had dark circles under them, so deep in colour that it appeared that someone had smudged purple-black chalk under them with a heavy hand. His physical fitness had dissipated to skin and bone. His long, slender hands were still the same, although the joints were more defined, looking as fragile as a bird’s. The most terrifying of all were his eyes. Not the dark circles, but his physical eyes. The once warm and mischievous mismatched eyes had become cold and ruthless; blue and brown marbles stuck in a freezer. Because of Jareth’s explosive, unbalanced self, not a single goblin dared to enter Jareth's castle without express permission from the King himself. Those summoned went in full of terror, for those who went into the castle seldom returned to their homes. The King made sure the goblins paid for the loss of Sarah.

"Sire?" a hesitant voice called, opening the throne doors. The King sat up instantly, his face filling with practiced malice and evil.

"You dare interrupt me?" Jareth’s voice was a deadly, raspy whisper. The poor goblin looked faint with terror.

"N-no sire, I-I mean, yes sire, I-I mean..."

"What is it, you sniveling coward?" Jareth snarled.

The goblin wrung its hands together, slightly crumpling the paper in its hands. Jareth heard the crunching noise and immediately found the source.

"What is that paper you have in your hand?" Jareth asked, his voice a deadly calm while his eyes flamed.

The goblin quickly handed the paper to Jareth, his hand trembling as it was taken. "My soldiers and I were going through the rubbish field, looking for things in our home when this paper caught my eye," he motioned to it in Jareth's hand, "I cannot read very well, but i could see that it was addressed to the Traitor from a person named Sarah--"

"Sarah?" Jareth was out of his throne in an instant. He grabbed the goblin and lifted him to eye level.

"What do you know of Sarah?" he asked tensely, the calm façade barely holding.

The goblin started shaking so badly his teeth chattered, making his words harder to understand.

"N-nothing S-Sire, just that her n-name i-is on the p-paper." he stuttered.

Jareth dropped him abruptly. The goblin fell onto the ground in a ball of terror.

"Get out," Jareth said quietly, "And do not breathe a word of this letter to anyone lest you want a visit to the executioner."

The goblin, hardly believing his luck, scurried out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him.

My dearest friend Hoggle-

I haven't heard from you in some time. I hope Jareth hasn't been too hard on you for helping me get through. You know how he can be. Anyways, I just wanted to write to you to

let you know about the upcoming events in my life

Jareth waited until the goblin disappeared before he slowly sat down on his throne, staring at the letter as if it was going to disappear. His delicate fingers unfolded it, and Jareth began to read:

Dearest Hoggle,

It's been so long since I've seen you! I must tell you what is happening at the moment. First of all, Toby is now in kindergarten a year early! He's getting so big! I have just graduated college and I am now a high school English teacher in New York City. Busy! But the most exciting thing of all: I'm getting married next week!

Robert and I made it official yesterday. I want you to come, so let me tell you the date and place. It will be Thursday, December 16th at St. Bernard's on 328 W, 14th St. I hope you can make it. I have a special pew saved just for you (in the back, just in case. I know how shy you are and how some people may react) anyways, I hope to see you there!

​Lots of love,


Jareth's hands started to shake. His eyes flashed, full of rage and fresh pain. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, but didn’t fall. His hands closed in, turning into a fist and crushing the letter in his hand. The words bounced around his skull, full of new pain each time it hit him.

"I'm getting married next week" Those words were wasps, stinging relentlessly, mercilessly.

"Damn that unfaithful, ungrateful woman!" He screamed, balling up the letter and hurling it to the ground."Damn her! Curse her! No!" His hands started to glow, his anger causing his magic to seep through his skin, making him lethal to anything near him.

"NO!" he screamed again, pitching his magic across the room. Orbs magically surrounded him, lifting him off his feet. His rage and pain fueled his magic, sending flying crystals everywhere. His irises and pupils disappeared, giving him the look of a possessed soul. He threw his magic, destroying everything in its wake. The forest came down in a ball of fire. The labyrinth walls collapsed with each shattering orb. Black clouds gathered ahead and threw lightning and thunder around him, giving him the fascia of a deranged god.

He felt claustrophobic, full of anger and pain, so he transformed swiftly into an owl and disappeared into the storm.

Hours later, he flies back into his throne room, calmly surveying his outburst. He almost appeared bored as he flicked his wrist. Instantly, the room flew back into order. As the room repaired itself, Jareth quietly slinked into his room like a kicked dog.

And there he stayed. Days passed and Jareth had not left his bedroom. Days turned into weeks and still, no goblin saw him anywhere in the castle. The few goblins who saw Jareth said in hushed tones that he never left his bed and the servants were instructed to leave the food at the door. Rumors spread throughout the kingdom that Jareth had lost his power. Angry goblins started to swarm the castle, desperately trying to find some sort of order as the Goblin City began to crumble from a lack of control. Finally, two months after Jareth disappeared from the public, the goblins rebelled.

“Sire!” a goblin screamed, running into Jareth’s quarters uninvited, “Sire! The common goblins have rebelled! They are attacking the castle!”

Jareth didn’t move, didn’t flinch; made no sign that he heard the goblin’s cries.

“Please, my Lord, what shall we do?”

There was a moment of silence from the king; the only noise was the servant’s desperate attempts at barricading the doors to the castle. Jareth sat up.

“Let me take care of it,” He said, his voice devoid of emotion. He stood, his back to the goblin. “Tell the servants to open the doors.”

The goblin nodded and scurried out, worried.

Jareth turned and started to stalk gracefully out of the door, his hands folded behind his back and gripping his riding crop, his gloves straining against Jareth’s bony knuckles.

He stepped into the chaotic throne room, standing imperially before his panic-stricken subjects. He pulled the riding crop from behind his back and slammed it against his throne with an ear-shattering crack! making the goblins jump and fall silent. At the sight of their king, many gasped. His hair was lank and dirty, hanging around his face like straw. There were large bags down his eyes which were cold and merciless. The laugh lines around his eyes and mouth was gone, his lips thin and white. His cheekbones were straining against the skin, looking as sharp as all of his joints. He was thin and grey as a famine victim, but he radiated power.

In a quiet, dead voice, he began to speak.

“I know the rumors have gone around, saying that I have lost my power over the Labyrinth and the goblins within. But I am here to assure you that I am indeed your ruler, and I will be treated as such. Any more foolishness and I promise that every last one of you will regret it. I am in charge, and you will obey. I have some new… laws… that will be followed, and if not, dire consequences will follow. Now get out.” Without warning, he lashed out at the nearest goblin to him with his riding crop, bringing the weapon down with all of his strength. The goblin screamed and crumpled to the ground, clutching his bleeding and swollen face. The goblins panicked and bolted for the exit as Jareth whipped every goblin he could reach, taking his anger and pain out on them.

He was lying in bed when a bubble floated into his bedroom from the open window. It floated to Jareth just as he sat up. He stretched his hand out and the bubble popped, dropping a heavy envelope made of expensive cream paper in his outstretched hand. His elegant fingers tore open the envelope and read its contents. It was an invitation to a ball in celebration of his neighbor king's birthday. Jareth grimaced; he always hated those balls. The Fae were a very nosy, chattery lot and always tried to pry into his mysterious life. However, he needed to do something to get the letter out of his mind. He conjured up a bubble of his own to accept the invitation; his first acceptance in over 200 years.

'No doubt that'd give them some gossip for a few centuries,' Jareth thought scathingly.

Mentally and physically exhausted from the day's toll, Jareth rolled over on his back and fell asleep.

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City..."

Jareth was back in the ruins, Sarah as beautiful as he remembered, dressed in the guise of the mythical princess from her story. She towered over him, her hair and clothes whipping around her in the magical wind that surrounded her like a tornado. Her eyes were filled with such disgust and hatred, Jareth flinched.

"For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great..."

"Sarah, NO!" Jareth tried to yell, but he was mute, helpless to what was unfolding. "Don't leave me again! NO!"

"YOU HAVE NO POWER OVER ME!" Sarah screamed, the ground opening up beneath Jareth. He fell, staring into Sarah's eyes the entire time. He landed hard on his back, Sarah standing over him with scorn on her face.

"I never loved you," she sneered. "You stupid, silly Fae. Haven't your parents taught you anything? Do you really think I cared for you, when any man would throw themselves down on the ground for me? Do you think, that if you captured my attention for a wee 13 hours, that I would be madly in love with you? You pitiful creature." she leaned down; Jareth could smell her breath, musty and the scent of death and hopelessness. "You will die alone," she snarled. "Never to be loved for the disgusting monster you are." she stood and turned. "Goodbye Jareth. Forever." she transformed into a raven and flew away, Jareth reaching longingly for the thing he loved most but who never stopped causing him pain.

"NO!" Jareth screamed, bolting up in bed. He was panting, sweat running off his face and pooling in the silk sheets. He clutched his chest, where his frantic heart was beating, full of terror and adrenaline. No one responded, the other side of the bed empty and cold. He leaned forward, putting his face in his hands.

"This needs to stop, it is weakening me," he muttered to himself. "Sarah isn't coming back." his own words sliced his heart so deeply, it was only holding on by a sliver. His next words were the knives that severed the last bit. "She is dead. Her love for me, if there ever was, is dead to me. She is gone." His heart grew cold, but stayed broken. The coldness and detachment numbed to pain in his soul.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...