Disclaimer: Allrighty folks, we all know how this works, so here goes 
nothing ;) Jareth, his Labyrinth, Toby, Sarah, ect. belong to Jim Henson 
productions or something..... no money's being made, bla bla bla...Amalthya
and any one else you don't recognize are mine, so ask before you use them. 
Comments at Bamf@usa.net , no flames, please!

Witness To Destruction

Chapter One

Ann looked out at the dark night and sighed. Empty, as always. This was how 
her world had been forever, it seemed. No, that wasn't strictly true. She 
remembered a time when her days had been sunshine and fairy tales. Days 
when she still lived with her mother. Before her life had gone to hell, but 
now that she looked back on it, she could see that those early times had 
been overcast with the shadow of her mother's unhappiness. Her mother was a 
dreamer. Her earliest memory was of her mother's voice whispering fairy 
tales and legends about unicorns and other mystical beasts. She had loved 
to hear he mother's voice like that, lost and dreamy. So unlike her 
father's stories of things that lived under the bed, things that would 
gobble bad little girls whole. Her mother had only one scary story. That of 
the Goblin King. She told her over and over again. 

"Listen, Amalthya. If you see him, run away. Run to me, and I'll protect 
you." Amalthya. How long had it been since anyone had called her by her 
real name? Almost thirteen years. Her father never did. She remembered fights
her mother and father used to have over it. 

"Really, Sarah, such a name for a little girl! Haven't you given up your 
fantasy world by now? This is reality." 

"She's a special child, Aaron, she deserves a special name. You agreed, 
when she was born." 

"I agreed that you could put it on her birth certificate, not that you 
could call her it. We agreed to call her Ann. Writing it on a slip of paper 
is one thing, she can change it when she's older, imprinting it in her 
brain is quite another." 

"Why do you care? You don't really love her, or me!" 

"Sarah, that's not true. How could you say such things?" But it was. 
Amalthya knew it. Her parents had been married when her mother was only 
eighteen. Her father was fairly wealthy, and had been attracted by her 
mother's innocents. Unfortunately, Sarah's talk of fairies and goblins had 
worn on him quickly. Then Ann had been born, and his wife's time had been 
spent in the care of the infant. As long as he wasn't bothered, he didn't 
care what they did. Until that day, thirteen years ago, when Amalthya's 
life had changed forever. She remembered it so very clearly, that afternoon.
     Her mother had taken her to a park, and she had gone off exploring. 
near a little grove of trees, she had found a curious thing. She ran back 
to show her mother. 

"What is it, Mommy?" 

"It's a fairy ring, Amalthya. Stay away from it." 

"Why? It's just a ring in the grass, see?" And she stepped into the ring. 

"Amalthya! No!" It was too late, she had already disappeared. Ann landed 
with a thud in a field of soft grass. Close by was a stream, and a small 
pond. She looked around. A ways across the field was a tall wall, and 
extending backward for what must have been miles was an elaborate maze. 

"The Labyrinth." She gasped in astonishment. "I'm in goblin land!" 

"That you are my dear," came a voice from behind her. She turned around to 
see a tall man with blond hair and very blue eyes gazing down at her. 

"Who are you?" 

"Don't you know? I'm sure your mother has told you all about me." 

"You're the Goblin King! What do you want? My mommy said you were a bad 
person." 

"Did she. What do *you* think I am?" 

"Well, I don't know. You don't *look* so bad to me." 

"There we are. Such a bright little girl." 

"I want to go home, Mr. Goblin King. My mom'll be worried." 

"If that is what you want, I will take you home." In a blink of an eye, 
they were standing in the park again. 

"Jareth!" Her mother screamed. "Give me back my daughter!" 

"Sarah, see reason. Look at what your life has become. You should have 
stayed with me, Sarah. You could have been Queen. This could have been 
*our* daughter." 

"Amalthya, come here." She ran to her mother. "Go away, Jareth, stay away 
from us!" 

He looked almost sad. "As you wish." He vanished, and as he faded away, she 
thought she heard him whisper, "The offer still stands." 

She had rushed home, and made the mistake of telling her father. That had 
been the last straw. 

"Sarah, I'm not going to let you fill Ann's head full of nonsense anymore. 
I'm taking her." He had. They had moved to San Francisco, and she had never 
had another sane conversation with her mother. Her father did his best to 
wipe every fantasy and dream from her mind. 

"This world is reality, Ann. There is no magical world. There is no Goblin 
King. These were all just you mother's stories, forget them." Needless to 
say, she had left as soon as she was able. Now she lived in a loft 
apartment in New York. She had made it her haven, the opposite of the 
sterile rooms her father had kept. Everything was made to look like a 
picture-book story, with her own drawings and paintings covering the walls. There were dragons and knights in shining armor, and above all, there was the Goblin King. He was in almost all of her paintings. Never obvious, but there all the same. The funny thing was, she never remembered putting him there. 

She pulled herself away from the window. Why was she thinking of this? It 
always made her sad. Then again, she was always sad. Then she remembered. 
This was the thirteenth anniversary of the day she fell through the fairy 
ring, and her life changed forever. For the worse, it seemed to her. For 
there was not a day that went by that she didn't think of it, that she didn't
feel that familiar ache. Not a night passed when that familiar dream did 
not come. She had lost a piece of herself that day, and now she could never 
be happy. So she held this vigil, lighted candles, and prayed she would be 
taken away from this. It never happened. The clock struck midnight, and she 
held her breath. Nothing happened. She sighed and went into the bathroom, 
filled the bathtub and got in. Nothing *ever* happened. 

The ringing of the telephone woke her. She realized with a start that she 
was still in the bathtub. She climbed out, wrapped herself hurriedly in a 
large bath towel, and ran to the phone. 

"Hello?" 

"Ann? This is your grandfather." 

"Granddad? What is it?" 

"I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your mother's died." 

"Oh..." Ann wasn't sure what to say. She hadn't seen her mother in almost 
four years, when her parents had put her in a care facility. It broke Ann's
heart to see her like that. After her divorce, her mother had become more 
and more withdrawn. A nervous breakdown, the doctors said. She simply 
stopped living in the real world. Ann used to visit her once a month, but 
it got to be too much. Too much to carry the secret that all the things her 
mother raved about, goblins and the Labyrinth, were real. Sarah never 
recognize her, anyway. 

"Ann?" 

She realized she had been silent all that time. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm upset, 
you understand." 

"Of course you are, dear. First your father, then this..." 

"Yes. When..." 

"The funeral is Thursday. Your uncle Toby is flying in from London tomorrow."
A giggle escaped Ann's lips, despite herself. "Ann, are you okay?" 

_Okay?! My mother just died, what do you think!_ She wanted to scream. What
was wrong with her? She needed to get a hold of herself. At least a little. 
"Yes, I mean, why do you always call him 'My uncle Toby'? He's only three 
years older than I am, for god's sake!" There was no response on the other 
end. "I'm sorry, Granddad. I-I'll catch a flight later today. I'll call 
from the airport, okay?" 

"That's fine, dear. There are some things of your mother's here at the 
house that I think she would want you to have. You'll have to go through 
them and see what you want." 

"Yes, of course." She was answering automatically now. Her mind was 
spinning. 

"I'd better let you go so you can get packed. See you later. Love you..." 

"Yes. Love you..." She set the phone down. Now what? Call Silviet. 

"Silviet?" 

"Ann, how are you? You sound a little upset." 

"Something's come up. I have to go out of town for awhile... I don't know 
how long I'll be gone." 

"What happened?" 

"My mom's died. I have to go take care of some things. Can you bring in my 
mail and stuff? You have a key, right?" 

"Yes. You poor thing, take as much time as you need. Keep in touch, okay?" 

"Yeah, I will..." Click. That was done. Now what? Call for a ticket, pack, 
get to the airport, call Granddad back. 

Her plane came in at a little after seven that evening. She met her 
grandparents at the gate and retrieved her luggage. They passed the trip 
back to the house in near silence. She took a deep breath before she 
entered the house. She hadn't been there in so long...and it was still the 
same. She sighed and sank down onto the couch. 

"I'll take your things up to the guest room." Her grandfather headed up the 
stairs with her bags. 

"Can I get you anything to drink Ann, or maybe some food. They don't kid 
when they use the term 'starving artist'. Your so thin." 

"I'm not starving, Grandma, I've got plenty of money from Dad. I don't 
need anything. I'm fine, really." She gave her grandmother a small smile. 
"I'm just going to rest here a moment, then I'll go unpack." 

"We put your mother's things in the attic for now. You can go up and have 
a look later, if you feel up to it." 

"Okay, thank you." After a bit, she went up to the guest room. It had been 
her mother's room, years ago. Her desk was still against one wall. She 
looked at herself in the mirror. She looked just like her mother, everyone 
said. But Amalthya could see the small differences easily. She had more 
fine lines in her face than her mother had ever had, and the corners her 
small, pouty mouth were permanently turned down. People were constantly 
asking her if she felt all right. Her eyes were green, like her fathers. 
Eerie emerald eyes that should have belonged to some being from another 
relm. Too green for human eyes. She turned away, brushing a strand of long 
brown hair out of her eyes as she did so. She lay back on the bed. She 
hadn't realized how sleepy she was until that moment. 

*She was in the field again, talking to Jareth. He was going to take her 
home. Suddenly, they were in the park. Her mother was yelling. 

"Come now Amalthya, it's time to go." The Goblin King said as he picked 
her up and held her in his arms. 

"Where?" She asked in curiosity, at the same time putting her small arms 
around his neck. 

"Why, back with me, child." 

"But what about Mommy?" 

"I'm afraid your mother doesn't want you anymore. You're mine now, little 
one." He said with a smile. Her mother screamed louder. Amalthya called 
back to her, stretching out her hand to try and grab hold. She was too far 
away. "Mommy, Mommy!"* 

She sat upright, breathing fast, heart pounding. "No. That's not what 
happened. That never happened!" She screamed to the air. There was a 
pounding on her door. 

"Are you okay, Ann?" 

"Yes, Granddad. I had...a bad dream. That's all." 

"If you're sure." 

"Yes, yes. I'm fine, really." 

"Okay..." 

After a moment, she got up and began to pace the room. Why wouldn't her 
demons let her rest? Was it things like that dream that had finally driven 
her mother over the edge? Well, at least *she* was free now. In two days, 
she would be laid to rest for eternity. Comforting to know she wasn't 
suffering anymore. No, Amalthya was the only one who had to suffer now. 
She decided to go up to the attic to sort through her mother's things. 
Most of the boxes held old everyday objects left over from before her 
mother had been moved to the care facility. Some make-up, even old 
medication. She closed the carton again. She'd take it all, and sort 
through it later. She moved on to an old chest that was against the far 
wall, undid the latches, and opened the heavy lid. All of her mother's old 
costumes! The dresses were pretty, if out of style. She remembered digging 
through them when she was little. 

"When you're older, Amalthya, you can wear them When you're older." Her 
mother's voice seemed to echo in the empty attic. Under the costumes was a 
layer of books. The classics, Alice in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz. 
Underneath it all, she found a small, thin leather-bound book. She opened 
it to it's ribbon marker. 

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


She snapped the book shut in surprise, and looked at the title. 
"The Labyrinth." She started to laugh uncontrollably. This was too much! 
She put the book back in the trunk and closed the lid, redid the latches, 
and exited the attic. The rest of the boxes, she knew, held stuffed animals 
and other toys her mother had left behind after she had married. She'd keep
 a few of them, but most could go to the Salvation Army. She didn't need 
them, might as well make some children happy. 

The next day, Toby arrived. She hadn't seen him since he'd gone off to 
London as a free-lance photographer. 

"Ann. How are you holding up?" 

"Okay, I guess. Considering. How are things going for you?" 

"Good. I'm really enjoying myself. It's good to see you again. Too bad it 
had to be like this." 

"Yeah. Too bad." The rest of the day passed quietly. Mostly, she wanted to 
be alone. That's how she felt, utterly alone. These people who surrounded 
her, tried vainly to comfort her, were her family, true. But she didn't 
know them. Not really. And the certainly didn't know her. She went to bed 
early. No one questioned her. She hadn't slept well the night before, and 
was tired. Then again, she never slept well. As she drifted off to sleep, 
she thought she saw an owl swoop past the window. 

The sky was cloudless, the air warm as they laid her mother in the ground. 
She felt it should be raining, like in the movies. But the real world 
rarely worked that way. The tears that spilt from her eyes would be more 
than enough to wet the ground. It *had* rained at her father's funeral a 
year ago, which had been a good thing. The rain slid down her cheeks in 
place of tears. She did not cry for him. She never would. He wasn't 
deserving of her grief. The only regret she felt for his death was that 
she was orphaned and alone now. None of this would matter soon, though. 
She had already made up her mind. 

Her mother's things had been sent ahead to her apartment. She had called 
Silviet, so that the delivery people would be able to put the boxes in the 
house. She'd be back by the end of the week, she told her. 

She must have had a bad dream, because she woke up trembling. She put on 
her bathrobe and headed down to the kitchen. 

"Ann, is that you?" Came a hushed voice from the living room. 

"Toby? Yeah, it's me. Couldn't sleep?" She asked, walking in and sitting 
next to him on the couch. He nodded. "Me either." 

"Do- you want to talk about things?" 

"What is there to talk about?" 

"There must be something. You've lost both your parents in little over a 
year. That's got to hurt." 

"Toby, I've been on my own since before I was seventeen. This makes it 
official, is all." 

He sighed. "Ann..." 

"I wish you wouldn't call me that." 

"Wha-" 

"It's not my name." She continued. 

"It- it's not?" 

"No. Mom's the only one who ever called me by my real name. We never saw 
you guys much, so I guess you wouldn't remember." 

"No, I suppose not. What is it?" 

"Amalthya." It sounded strange to her own ears. 

He stared into the dark for a moment. "That's a good name." He said, almost
to himself. "But I don't think I can call you that." 

"Why not?" 

He turned to face her now, his expression earnest. "It's the only thing you 
have left of Sarah. That name. I can't take that away from you." He paused 
again. "I could call you Ames, if you'd like. A kind of nickname." He 
lapsed into silence again. There was something working behind his blue eyes, 
like he was trying to solve some puzzle, but the pieces kept getting away 
from him. 

She smiled. In the semi-dark ness, she looked exactly like his half-sister 
had. The same long brown hair, the same face, but the expression was 
infinitely sadder. "I'd like that." 

Something was still bothering him. Actually, he had been glad to find Ann- 
Ames, he corrected himself mentally, awake. Perhaps she could help him 
figure it out. He got up and paced about the front window. 

"Ames, do you remember, when you were seven, you told your dad about 
falling through the fairy ring?" Even in the gloom, he could see her eyes 
widen. 

"How did you know about that?" 

"Um...Dad told me, I think. He thought it was the dumbest reason for a 
divorce he had ever heard of. So you do remember." She nodded mutely. 
"This will probably sound silly to you, but what was it? Just a story? Or 
did it really happen?" She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a 
hand to silence her. "Before you answer, let me finish. I want you to 
understand where I'm coming from. The reason I ask is..well... I keep 
having this weird dream. I'm in this -place- I'm not really sure how to 
describe it, and I'm surrounded by these things..." 

"Goblins." She said. "They were goblins. It wasn't a dream. You were 
little. I'm surprised you remember at all." She retold the story to him, 
just as her mother had to her. He sat there in the dark, listening to her, 
absorbing everything. "It really happened. Just like the fairy ring wasn't 
a story. *It really happened.*" 

"That explains why Sarah always seemed....I don't know, apologetic." 

"She felt horrible about what she'd done. It haunted her for the rest of 
her life." 

"It's haunted you, too." He said matter-of-factly. "I can tell by looking 
in your eyes." 

Silently, tears began to run down her face. "If only you could understand. 
I saw that place, I felt like it's where I belong. I've waited for thirteen 
years for him to come back for me, and he hasn't. He hasn't!" 

"Shhh...It's okay. I know it hurts, Ames. You're still upset about your 
mother. It'll pass." He gave her a tight hug. 

_If only you knew,_ she thought. _If only you knew._ She straightened up 
after awhile, and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I should 
try and get some sleep. I have a plane to catch in the morning." 

"Keep in touch, okay? Write me or something." 

"I will." She hated lying to him. 

When she landed in New York, she caught a cab home. Her mother's things 
were stacked in the living room. She pulled the chest into her bedroom, 
then went into the kitchen to sort through her mail. Useless, these 
gestures. None of it would matter after tonight. She did them anyway. 
The phone rang, shattering the eerie calm of the house, and made her jump. 

"Hello?" 

"Ann, your back. Good." 

"Yeah, Silviet, any problems?" 

"Nope. I let the delivery men in. They didn't mess with any of your stuff, 
did they? I was running late, so I told them to lock up." 

"Everything's fine here." 

"You don't sound to wonderful. You want some company?" 

"No, no. Why don't you come by tomorrow morning? We'll have breakfast or 
something, okay?" 

"Sure. You're fine?" 

"Yes. Stop worrying, will you?" 

"I'll see you tomorrow then." 

"Yeah, bye." 

"Bye." 

She hung up the phone. There was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. 
How could she have just done that to her best friend? It was unspeakably 
cruel. But necessary, she decided. She went into the bathroom, and began 
to comb out her long hair. She would have smiled at the irony of it all, 
if what she was about to do it wasn't so serious. She had given herself a 
week to think it over; no backing out now. She went into the bedroom to 
changed her clothes. Faded jeans and a silk poet's blouse. She went back 
into the living room, and began opening carton after carton, shuffling 
through the contents of each. They were here somewhere, she had just seen 
them! There. She pulled out a almost full pill bottle. Tranquilizers. More 
than enough to do the job. She took the bottle into the kitchen and got a 
glass of water. She poured out half the bottle's contents in her hand, and 
swallowed them. She washed them down with the water. It was done. Now all 
she had to do was wait. She went and laid down on her bed, arms crossed 
over her chest. "Like I'm already dead." She whispered dreamily. She 
frowned momentarily at the thought of Silviet finding her like this, cold 
and dead. Then she released it. What did it matter now? 

In his stone room lit by one huge fire burning in the hearth, the Goblin 
King watched the world through his crystal. Sarah, his Sarah, whom he had 
loved dearly, who had spurned and hated him, was no more. And though he 
grieved for her deeply, her death also released him. From beyond the grave, 
she had no power over him. He was free to turn his attentions on one who 
had been calling to him for so long, who's need for him burned like a 
beacon in the night. The images in the ball flickered, reflecting his 
thoughts. He gasped and the crystal shattered on the floor at his feet. In 
a rustle of garments, he vanished, leaving the crystal shards to glimmer 
in the fire-light.

Chapter Two

 	A moment later he was at her side, carefully cradling her limp form.
 She was still alive; for the moment at least. This was Sarah's child, his 
last link to that past. He could not bear witness to her destruction. He 
vanished again, clutching her to him. 

He sat now, watching the blankets on the bed rise and fall with her shallow
breathing. He had done his best. Weather she lived or died now, it was out 
of his hands. He only prayed to whatever gods might live in the heavens 
above, that he wasn't left alone again. He pressed the back of his hand to 
her cheek. It was cool, though sweat beaded on her forehead. She began to 
tremble, slightly at first, then so violently that he held her tight, 
wishing he could make it go away. She went completely limp suddenly, and 
for a horrifying instant he thought she'd passed on. He found her pulse, 
relived that it was steady, if rapid. She would live. He sat back down in 
his chair bedside, and tried to get some sleep. He was exhausted. 

Her head was pounding. What was wrong? She couldn't see, her eyes wouldn't 
focus correctly. And she couldn't move at all. She started to panic. Calm 
down, she told her self. What's the last thing I remember? She drew a blank. 
Fine. What can I tell about my surroundings? The bed she was in was 
extremely soft. Her head was resting on a mound of pillows. From what she 
could feel with the palms of her hands, she was covered in silk, velvet, 
and what she thought was animal fur. She relaxed against the pillows again, 
and concentrated. How had she gotten here? Suddenly, it came back like a 
crushing blow. She had wanted to die! What had gone wrong? Would she be 
trapped like this forever? Helpless inside her own mind? She started to 
sob, tears streamed down her face. Through her blurred vision, she saw a 
movement. She wasn't alone, thank God. She heard a rustle of clothing, and 
blinked rapidly, trying to regain her sight. She managed to tip her head 
slightly to one side. There was a dark silhouette, back-lit by a fire. A 
cool hand pressed against her forehead. 

"Shhh....don't try to move. It was a very foolish thing you tried there, 
child. I barely managed to save you." The voice was low and soothing. She 
recognized it, with it's melodic undercurrents, it's British sounding 
accent. A voice that reached to her across the years. 

"I know you..." She managed to croak out. "I could never forget..." 

"Yes. I know. I've always known. I'm here now. Rest. You're still very ill; 
go back to sleep." She did, and for once, the dream did not haunt her. 

She awoke feeling awful. But a world better than before. Now the true 
challenge lay before her. She had to face Jareth, the man who had plagued 
her days and nights for the last thirteen years. She struggled to sit up 
slowly against the pillows, and suddenly, his hands were helping her. She 
saw as she turned her head, that he had been merle sitting in a large chair 
to the left of the bed, where she hadn't noticed him immediately. 

"Here." He held a cup to her lips. "Go on, drink. I won't harm you. 
I saved you life, after all." She sipped at the cool water at first, then 
gulped it down greedily. She handed him the cup, and wiped her face with 
the back of her hand. 

"Thank you." She managed. Her vision was still playing funny tricks with 
her, and her voice wasn't obeying. 

"Now that you're more rested, would you mind telling me what you were 
thinking?" His face was stern. 


"I- I-" She stammered. "I'm not so sure now. I wanted to die, I know I did! 
Everything went so wrong!" She started to cry again. He watched, and waited. 
"Ever since that day..." He nodded to show he knew what she was referring 
to, "It's all been wrong. And then Mom was taken away, and Dad hated me, 
and you, you ignored me! I called to you almost every night, once I 
realized that this was what I wanted, and you never came!" 

"That's not true." How could he convey this to her? He had wanted to come 
to her! How could she know of the many times he had watched her from 
outside her window as she painted his likeness into her fantasy worlds? 
How often he had come late at night to watch her sleep? "Amalthya, you 
have no idea how hard it was for me to stay away! I had no choice. Your 
mother told me to stay away, and I could do nothing against that. She held 
absolute power over me." 

Amalthya. He had used her name. The way it sounded after thirteen years of 
never hearing another living soul utter it sent a chill up her spine. 

"And she lived in terror of you. I should hate you for what you did to her." 

"That is not my fault. She had no reason to fear me. I couldn't raise a 
hand against her. I loved her." 

"Is that why you saved me? To keep a part of her with you forever? Why 
shouldn't I hate you, after all you did to her? To me!" 

"I can't make you like me, or trust me. The only forgiveness for me is that
 which may lie in you." His expression saddened briefly, then turned cold 
again. "Dispise me if you wish. It makes no difference now. You are here 
with me." 

"I'm sorry. Who am I to accuse you? I called, and in my darkest hour you 
came. I asked for this." 

"Yes, you did. Best keep that in mind." His tone was barely civil. With a 
flourish of his cape, he was gone.

"That was weird." She said to herself softly.

End Chapter Two