Jan 24, 2025
Mr Nosferatu himself!??!??
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Mr Nosferatu himself!??!??
The Labyrinth fandom after the Robert Eggers news
If you want an incredibly well written and just fucking superb part 2 to Labyrinth then you MUST read this fic. It's honestly just perfect. I'm going to cherish this story, always.
A Forfeit of Dreams - KL_Morgan
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°•●LABYRINTH●•°
The new environment around Sarah enthralled her. She marvelled at the architecture of the village, at its population, at the object of this new adventure, and yet... none of it was enough to shake her keen awareness of Jareth's presence and proximity.
More than ever, her attention was leashed to him. And when she thought hard about why that was, she couldn't (or wouldn't) entirely pinpoint it.
Since they'd met, Jareth had claimed for himself a central role in Sarah's imagination. Before, it had been an obsession with winning, with being better than this handsome villain, proving to him that she could do all the things he taunted she could not, had tried to stop her from doing. It had been about snatching victory from underneath his perfect nose.
But it wasn't like that now. Now, the champion and the king were on the same team, and it was a dynamic neither of them were navigating with much grace.
Loathe as she was to admit any such thing, however, Jareth WAS doing a much better job at it than she. All the little (and sometimes even gentlemanly) gestures that he had begun since they'd "made up" were quickly teaching her that getting along was much more rewarding than fighting.
Flies, honey, etc.
Especially when he looked at her like that, when he stood too close, towering; the way he moved around her, gently guiding and minding her; and when he - well, he couldn't be flirting ? - when he said those unexpected, wild things that made the blood rush to her cheeks, knocked her off balance and made her uncomfortable in a way she found she might enjoy.
Before she knew it, she found herself walking closer to him, feeling safer, wanting more kernels of this strange new brand of his attention.
Her mind told her that all these must be more tactics to mess with her; more distractions she shouldnt be trusting. But the feelings in her chest begged to disagree. It was a decade later, and things were different. For better or for worse, they had been reunited in his strange home. Sarah did believe, deep down, that the reason for it was to solve this common and dire purpose.
~
The scowl Jareth had put on her face with his teasing softened when she learned that "grown-ups", too, could be wished away; not just by petulant, unthinking, selfish kids but by other, grown adults who had the capacity to mean it.
She felt a fracture in her heart with every new face they came across, and wondered what rules applied to adults who had done such a thing; who had had such little empathy or control of their words that they'd banished another human being to the unknown. It made her sick, thinking of her cynical, ignorant younger self and innocent Toby.
She knew Jareth could make the Labyrinth more difficult or easier for the runners. What governed the flow of his mercury and mercy? Could he weigh souls against Egyptian feathers?
She couldn't temper this craving, this unending lust for magical knowledge and he seemed to anticipate it because he held a leather-clad finger to her lips just as she was about to open them.
She made a helpless, funny picture: her mouth pressed to his fingers as she pouted up at him, the embers in her eyes striking to life at the show of such impolite dominance. A more sheltered eye might have found the picture obscene.
And that comment about the hayloft before he knocked on the door? It was herculean effort to school her expression into polite greeting as though he had not just made her think about the two of them in bed together, much different from the time he had nursed her back from the Taisteale's effects.
This man was driving her madder than a goblin's chicken.
And he knew it.
~
Gallagher was as much of a Virhaven gentleman as Kingsley had been, that same respect and reverence shining in his eyes as he bent over her hands.
The fact that Sarah was the champion, so respected here more than any other place... made her realize her own symbolism: That a wisher could be so sorry, so full of regret and love that she could be victorious, that that love was strong enough- not just against some awful villain who had stolen a loved one- but against the steadfast guardian of the wished-aways, who asked runners to prove their worth and sorrow, to earn back the precious thing they'd lost...
...Sarah blinked up at Jareth.
He was their protector.
It was SHE who was the villain, reformed.
~
The brewery smelled mouthwatering; bright with a hint of earthy spice, like the last days of summer.
She followed the men, side stepping the adorable piglet fulfilling his duties with zeal.
As Jareth held out the apple toward her, Sarah went wide-eyed. Her mortal manners had her reach out to take it, but she realized half way through that there was much, much more meaning in this.
She met his intense gaze and knew exactly what he was doing.
For a moment, they were standing in the ruins of his tower, him in that white feather cloak she had so often dreamed of, and her in that wrinkled, baggy, poet's shirt she couldn't bring herself to put in the donation box.
A girl, not entirely understanding his offer.
His eyes, back then, had frightened her. Immature dreams swirled in his crystal.
Jareth hadn't wanted her to win, and it had nothing to do with whether she deserved Toby back or how much she had meant those first words to the goblins.
Jareth hadn't wanted her to leave at all. Jareth didn't want her to leave now.
And Sarah wasn't afraid.
She deliberately took the apple from his hand as Gallagher continued the conversation before heading off.
A few quiet moments went by.
“I should warn you, Sarah,” Jareth said to her, raising his head from the vat and glancing in her direction, “The man we are about to visit is a supercilious, cantankerous old podge, but he is the foremost expert in the Labyrinth. Excepting myself, of course.”
He took the final bite of his own apple with unhurried grace, and was about to let it fall from his fingers onto the floor when, after considering for another moment, he wrapped it within a handkerchief and placed it carefully in his pocket.
Sarah took note.
“He may ask you questions that are uncomfortable, but you are not beholden to answer them.” He walked a little closer, his expression no longer quite so teasing. He considered her.
“It would, of course, help if you did. This situation goes beyond anything we have experienced before. I would say that I am worried, but that would be an impossible notion.” He smiled a bit for her, in his teasing way, but it did not reach his eyes. He gestured to the apple in her hand.
“You do know that I would never truly hurt you, don’t you, Precious?” he asked quietly.
There was no questioning his sincerity and concern for the whole predicament. With a new perspective, she was realizing how lost in all this he seemed. She was beginning to understand how much he must care- about her, too. The way he watched out for her, gave her her freedom at every turn, and asked so little of her, that they might work together to heal this home.
Sarah hadn't spent the last decade trying to get back to the Labyrinth just to shy away from uncomfortable questions in it's hour of need.
"However I can help... you can count on me."
With that, she met his eyes, and took a loud, juicy, trust-filled bite of the fruit the Goblin King offered.
~
Sarah imagined that they would find Nilrem in a tall tower, weeding his guests through the use of riddles and charms.
She had been prepared to perform a ritual, to prove herself somehow... or at least look through the hollow of a hag stone. But Jareth lead her up a simple gravel path toward an unassuming, but very well kept cottage at the top of a rocky mountain they had just winnowed to.
The landscaping surrounding the facade was familiar. Tall, decorative hedges framed the home in the corners, shrinking the closer they came to the entrance and framing the driveway in a characteristic, linear manner. Small gnomes sheared the bushes with the help of giant, free-floating rulers, unhurried in their thorough work. There wasn't one fairy in sight.
Aside from the strange angle of the window and door frames, as well as the various beasties at work in the yard, it could have been a human dwelling.
They halted in front of the door. Jareth summoned a crystal bubble and blew it from his fingers. Instead of popping upon contact, it went through the door unharmed, a quiet herald of their presence.
She watched the King bounce on his heels, his arms behind his back; perhaps the most unnkingly she had ever seen him. Almost apprehensive, as he shot her a smile like she was the one that needed reassurance. A far cry from the normal apathetic, unworried confidence he usually exuded.
Noting his shift in energy, she asked, a little smugly (because Sarah knew what it was like to be nervous in front of a teacher) "Where's the brandy?"
Before Jareth could reply, the front door ceased to exist.
In it's place stood a male figure smaller than Sarah.
"Brandy?" A soft, grumbly voice replied.
@kingofthegxblins
Labyrinth 2 and 3 The Prequels
Generations love Labyrinth, the 1986 musical fantasy film directed by Jim Henson; they can’t get enough of it. There’s comics, novels, merchandise and more… But new fans who can’t get enough of the Henson classic may be unaware that intentionally (or unintentionally) there’s already prequels of sorts awaiting their viewing. Back when music television was king, David Bowie released many Labyrinth…
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My Crew for the Labyrinth Sequel
A Little something a friend from Discord and I whipped up
Director: Scott Derrickson
Composer: Ludwig Goransson
Cinematographer: Philippe Rousselot
Screenplay Writer: Nicole Perlman
Costume Designer: Isis Mussenden
Production Designer: Bo Welch
So apparently Labyrinth 2 is a thing that is happening and I hate it already but will still approach with an open mind.
I've seen some of the suggestions to replace/fill Bowie's shoes and honestly? Yikes. Please don't let whoever wrote the article cast the movie.
If Bowie was alive I'd be all for it, but he's not so again, I love it enough to give the sequel a chance. I am very protective of this movie and so I want justice to be done to it, not just have it used as a commercial money ploy and slap any big name actor in the role just to try and fill seats. I want an actual GOOD movie done with respect.
However, if I had MY way... For looks and skill I'd say Jamie Campbell Bower. He can act, sing, and has a similar appearance
Hollywood, for once, PLEASE can you just... TRY?