Title: Dream Maker

Fandom: Labyrinth

Parts: one

Rating: G

Disclaimer: nothing in labyrinth belongs to me

Summary: Sarah continues on with life until she finds a strange shop in

New Orleans

            Grey sky. Crowded streets. Dirty pavement. Laughter, sadness together.

Beggars, those with wealth passing each other without a question. Sad

eyes, happy eyes, dead eyes. Stern eyes that reprimand and knowing eyes

that encourage. And music. Oh, the music. Threatening to take over the

city in one gigantic sweep of melody. Accenting the expectations and the

waiting that are in the air. This is the place of ultimate desire and

sorrow. This is New Orleans.

            Sarah slowly walked down the street in the French Quarter, careful to

stay away from Burbon Street. She was a famous actress now, known

throughout film, Broadway, and television. She had so much money she

didn't know what to do with it. So she did nothing. She was here to ride

in the Mardi Gras parade. Why she had accepted the offer, she didn't

know. She just wanted to get away, to keep going, for the business, for

her fans, for herself. She glanced at the sheet of paper the parade

officials had given her, looking around for the place she was supposed to

get her costume from. She paused a moment to watch a Dixie band playing

on the corner, and dropped some change into the bucket in front of a mime.

            She supposed life was good. She had done what she had set out to do.

Still, there was an emptyness that always seemed to follow her. Ever

since that time…clutching her coat to her, she pressed on, willing the

memory to go away. It hadn't happened. It wasn't real. It was just

something her over-active imagination had conjured. Yes, it had motivated

her to take the jump into the acting world, but it also made her wonder

about her mind. She had never told anyone about the incident, fearing the

press would leak it out to the public and she'd be put away. She was an

actress. She could create her own fantasy for the time she was

performing, then put it away. So why did she still feel incomplete?

            Sarah walked past the Preservation Hall of Jazz, Dr. Zombie's Voodoo

Parlor, and numerous tourist shops. Glancing around, she found her

destination. She looked at the store with surprise, and maybe with a

small part, with fear. The appearance wasn't threatening at all. It was

just another little shop, showing its wear in the sign and window. Inside

the window were the most beautiful costumes she had ever seen. They would

have put some of the Broadway designers she had worked with to shame. It

was not the clothes that caused her heart to pound, though. It was the

name on the sign. In silvery-blue letters it read: Masquerade Ball.

            Swallowing hard, she entered. The inside continued the theme. The

entire room was draped with beads and fabrics, showing off the beautiful

outfits on the racks. There were no other customers, but the place looked

like it was successful. A movement caught her eye. She turned, almost

bumping into the old man.

            "I'm sorry!" she said, embarrassed that she hadn't been paying

attention to where she was walking. The man chuckled softly before

answering.

            "It's all right, I'll survive." His voice was soft and melodic. He was

tall and looked to be in extremely good health for someone of his age.

His hair was long and silver and tied back in a sophisticated ponytail.

He was dressed simply: dark turtleneck, dark pants. But there was such an

air of authority and mystery about him. She blushed, looking at the dark

glasses he wore and the cane he held. Sensing her embarrassment, he

grinned. "Don't feel ashamed. I'm this way for a reason, and I get along

all right."

            "Do you know where I can find the shop's manager?" Sarah asked, wanting

to change the subject.

            "You just have. You must be Sarah Williams. The officials called and

said you were on your way. So, what do you think of our fair city?"

            "It's quite interesting," she managed, not really knowing if she cared

for it or not. There were wonderful things about it, like the music,

food, and culture, but they were enclosed by such a harsh environment…

            The man laughed slightly, sensing her thoughts. "Yes, it can be

disturbing, but I've lived in worse places. You just have to learn not to

take anything for granted." She turned, looking at him sharply, then

shrugged. "Now then, I've got the perfect dress for you to wear, if you'd

just follow me…" He motioned to the back of the store, and she followed.

            "So, who makes all of these outfits? They're beautiful."

             "Thank you. I have some help, but I do most of the work." Sarah was

shocked.

             "But, you're…"

             "Blind? My, but you are quite superficial. Yes, my vision is gone, but

my heart is still alive. You see, Sarah, I don't just make costumes, I

make dreams. Every time someone buys a dress or a suit, they buy a

wonderful opportunity to create their fantasy for a while."

            "But that's so fake…it's not real…it won't last. The dreamer wakes up,

and everything is gone." She shuddered, remembering a ball. She could not

let that come up now. It didn't happen.

            "Yes, it is not real, but it can be. Dreams are false, but they provide

the initiative to get one to want something badly enough to make it

happen. Then it can become real; it can become forever."

            "I never thought of it that way before…"

            "That's because you're only looking to scratch the surface. One must not

be afraid to dig deep." They walked past a wall where countless masks

hung. There were traditional Mardi Gras masks, but there were also other,

more mysterious personages. Sarah was about to question the man when he

went to a rack, selecting a dress. "Here, I think this will be quite

suitable. " He held it up for her to examine. It was absolutely beautiful,

and extremely familiar. The silver-white gown sparkled in the light, and

Sarah began to tremble violently. "Are you all right?" the man asked,

concern evident on his features.

            "It's nothing, it's just that…it looks so much like…a dream I once had.

Yes, a dream." She finished the sentence with firmness.

            He cocked an eyebrow. "Really? A good dream?"

            "I'm not sure…I thought it was a dream…but maybe I'm just going crazy."

            He placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke gently. "You're not crazy, my

dear. You've only shut yourself off to all of life's possibilities.

There are more things unknown in this world than are known." Handing her

the dress, he directed her to the changing room. She walked in, and he

waited outside, leaning against a wall. "Are you married, Sarah?"

            "No…I've never really thought about it. First, my career was too

important, then I was too busy, and…" she sighed, slipping the dress over

her head. "Maybe I'm too scared to let it happen. There was someone,

once…but it couldn't have been real."

            "Oh, it couldn't? You have to open yourself to the possibilities. Stop

hiding from the mask you've created for yourself." He turned as she

emerged, looking fabulous in the gown. She admired herself in the mirror

for a few moments.

            "What do you mean?"

            "What do you really want? What do you wish for, more than anything else?

 You have your career and your money, but you aren't satisfied. Do you

know what would make you happy?" She followed him back up to the front of

the store, and stopped when she got to the wall of masks. Her eye fell on

one and her jaw dropped.

            "What is it, my dear?"

            "That mask…the one with the horns…it's his!"

            "Do you really think he's as grotesque as the mask portrays him?"

            "He was a villain, of course he is! He was evil!"

            " I've been around for a long time, and I have never met one who was

truly evil.

            "Well, there were times that he was almost tender, but that was just a

plot! A game! I had to win!"

            "And did you? Did you really?"

            "No." her answer was almost silent.

            "That persona you speak of…maybe it was because that was what you

expected. You wanted that role fulfilled and he fulfilled it. You have

to understand the reason for his actions. He fulfilled the role for you,

to give you everything you wanted. Maybe the message was confused in your

translation." He spoke quietly, almost sadly. She stared at him for a

moment.

            " I don't know why I'm telling you this…I've never told anyone before.

You know, for a blind man, you see many things."

            He laughed, amused by her observation. "Yes, I've had my experience;

I've played many parts, myself. Each had their own purpose."

            "And what is the purpose of this?" she gestured at the shop.

            He sighed. "Living in a memory I suppose, trying to recapture what was

once lost."

            "Just as I'm trying to forget what I lost."

            "Exactly. Now then, you still haven't answered my question. What would

you wish for, more than anything else in the world?"

            Sarah smiled. It was the first real smile that had been on her face in a

long time. "Why not? You say you create dreams, right? Well, maybe this

dress can create a temporary fantasy for me."

            "True, but what would you want if it could be permanent? You have your

motivation, now take the initiative."

            Her eyes took on a searching cast. When they met his glasses, they were

filled with certainty. "A second chance. To gain the one I lost, if he

really loved me."

         He smiled. "You must wish properly, otherwise it will never come

true."

          "Fine. I wish I had a second chance with Jareth. No Toby, no

game-playing, only a second chance to gain what I have lost."

            The shopkeeper nodded approvingly and gestured. Suddenly, the store was

filled with brilliant light. Sarah had to close her eyes against the

glare. As the light died, she opened her eyes, and gasped. The store was

gone. She was in the castle, in the throne room. Before her stood the

man.

            "Who -are- you?"

            Smiling, he gestured again. His old features slowly faded to reveal a

man of about thirty. His hair became blond once again, and his sight was

restored. She should have known. Maybe it was a ploy, after all. An

attempt to get revenge. As if he had read her thoughts he gave her a

gentle, tender gaze and walked towards her.

            "Sarah. Forgive me, this was the only way I could make you understand."

She nodded, suddenly trusting him. Forcing herself to remember everything

that had happened; forcing herself to see what was under the mask that she

had known for so long.

            "I know. And this time, it is what I really want." Smiling, they looked

at each other, knowing that it would not be easy, but comforted by the

fact that they had been allowed another opportunity. One that would be

made the most of.

The End

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