Ah, okay, here we go. I don't own The Labyrinth and all that jazz, but as 
this is one of those alternate-reality plotlines, it's not real important.

Wayward 1/?


"Once I flew above the noise and confusion,
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion.
I was soaring ever higher,
But I flew too high."
	Carry on, Wayward Son
			-Kansas


He watched the copper-haired girl as she chased butterflies across a meadow
filled with wildflowers. A perfect moment...one he would have frozen in
time, were it possible. Once, maybe, he could have done such a thing, but 
not now. And perhaps, never again. He was an ordinary man in most ways now. 
And for him, as for all others, moments were  as fleeting and fragile as a 
soap bubble; vanishing at the slightest touch, leaving only a glimmer of 
what has been. All he had was the memory, crisp and clear as if he were 
still there, but as intangible as a ghost. A mirthless laugh passed over 
his lips. How kind of his father to leave him that. A perfect, infallible 
memory to capture and hold every moment. To let past torments stagnate and 
fester, to twist joy into pure anguish. That, and his immortality, were his 
only inheritance, all that was left to him. Both seeming gifts, when 
analyzed separately, but together a dangerous elixir. He had an eternity to 
dwell on his sorrow, enough time for his memories to slowly drive him out 
of his mind. Which is, of course, what his father had intended all along.
	So long ago. The days of his youth, real youth, not the immortal 
vitality he wore like a mask over his ancient soul. Days of turmoil and 
confusion. He'd grown up in his father's realm, The Underground, knowing 
full well that one day he would inherit it and become Goblin King in his 
stead. But as he approached the day he would take over, the world seemed 
somehow....dim. As if the bright colors and exotic settings were only a 
pretty scene painted on glass, and if he hit it hard enough it would 
shatter and reveal the darkness it disguised. It seemed to him that there 
must be more for him to discover. A land beyond. It was quite by accident 
that he stumbled upon the exact thing he had been yearning for. He learned 
tales from a servant who had been there as long as he could remember.  A 
wise old man who, when all was said and done, would have been better to 
hold his tongue, for in the end it cost him his head. 
	Needless to say, when he went to his father babbling of a world 
beyond the Underground, the Goblin King was enraged. What was there for a 
prince outside his kingdom? Nothing. Stay in the castle, do as you're told, 
and someday you will inherit it all. His father's message was clear, but he 
couldn't help but think about the stories, couldn't deny the longings they 
stirred in him. So, against all dire warnings from his father, he went to 
Earth.
	How to explain the freedom he felt! The exhilaration of walking 
amongst mortals who neither knew, nor cared who he was. He wandered, 
learned, and loved. Four months he spent in bliss with a beauty of a girl 
named Elenora, lithe of form and free of spirit. Her long curling hair 
shone brilliant copper in the sunlight, her skin was ivory, her eyes 
stunningly blue. She was poor, didn't care where he'd come from. He had 
found paradise.

His memory conjured an image before him of his beloved Elenora. Her face 
flushed from passion, yellow straw tangled in her red hair. She was 
laughing, a sound like a bubbling spring. He saw himself reach out and 
tangle his hands in her hair. In the midst of the memory, he felt the air 
around him stir and cool, like hands softly caressing his skin He felt lips 
on his......and opened his eyes again. A single tear slid down his pale 
cheek. She was gone. His Elenora was naught but a ghost.

End Part One