Title: Eve's Tale

Fandom: Labyrinth

Rating: light R for very light smut

Parts: one

Disclaimer: nothing in labyrinth belongs to me, it's all henson

Summary: What can you do when you are cursed to be loved by the goblin

king, yet never truly feel that love?

*************************************************

Eve's Tale

            I gaze at the ceiling, wondering what time it is. Probably still quite

early, but I'm not sure. Sighing, I roll over and gaze at the form in the

bed beside me. Jareth is sleeping peacefully, his energy spent. Although

the feeling does not surface fully, a part of me wonders what it is really

like to make love to the goblin king.

            But forgive me, I'm getting ahead of myself. I suppose I must explain.

In a past life I refused my soul mate. Whether it was purposeful or out

of ignorance, I do not know. That is the only fact I can remember from

that life. That, and I am being punished for it now. My name is Eve,

though I have been many different people. My name is quite a joke,

actually. It means life, but I really cannot live fully.

            You may recall being told that all of the stories written about the

labyrinth are actually played out in the Underground. I am a part of this

scheme, though Jareth is unaware of it. I suppose he thinks everything

magically happens, but it is not so simple. You see, because I refused

love in my last life, I am forced to portray each woman he is romantically

involved with in each story. I become the character, so to speak. My

true self can never really feel the love that the character feels; I do

not know what it is like to be loved by him, though I have gone through

the motions many times. I am not allowed to break character. I am

destined to be forever trapped in empty shells, never experiencing

something so simple. That is my fate for all eternity, and probably

longer.

            At first I thought it would be easy to live with. In my previous life I

had done without such emotions quite well. However, this is different.

To see him looking at you, but not at you. To feel his kiss, yet not feel

it. To feel your pulse raise and your stomach churn, knowing he is

experiencing the same emotions, yet know the feelings are not because of

you. This is my fate, my hell.

            Somewhere in the castle are the stories written by the followers of the

Underground. I think they call themselves listians, though I cannot be

certain. Each time a new story, a new chapter is finished, it is

transported to a volume in the library. Jareth takes the most recent

additions, and with his magic begins the process. I am called upon,

though he has no idea I even exist. The characters are chosen, with me

always portraying the love interest. I wouldn't mind if I could do all of

the stories. I would have some variety. But this is a part of my

punishment. To be loved, yet unnoticed. After the tale is told, the

characters fade and Jareth goes back to his life. I suppose I am what

some would call a "luminous being." I still exist, floating around the

Underground, yet I can only materialize when in a character. It is all

very confusing. I still barely understand it.

            He stirs beside me, and I again roll towards him. I have no choice.

The character smiles softly, yet inside I fight a scream. Not again.

This is torture. Someone, help me! But there is no help, no relief. He

returns the smile and covers her mouth with his, for it isn't my mouth,

but the character's. I must respond, and I do, yet I cannot truly feel

what is going on. I yearn to, though. Through time I have developed my

own fondness for Jareth. I suppose it could be called love, yet he will

never know. I am even not allowed to fully feel my own feelings, so I am

not exactly sure what the emotion is. He fully loves the girl and she is

filled with adoration and excitement. Me? I am crying, yet no tears will

appear on her skin. Soon, though. Soon it will be done, and I will be

free to go back to my existence. Until the next chapter.

            Finally, this tale is finished and all is quiet. The body I am in

evaporates, setting me free to wander until I am next called upon. I

watch as Jareth sighs then walks to the throne room. He sits down,

watching over his minions, bored. He hasn't had any real company since I

can't remember when. Probably since the girl, Sarah. I have portrayed

many different women, but mostly her, or different ideas of what she is.

For some reason I relate to her. I have often pondered if I was her in my

last life, and now she/I is/am being punished for refusing what we needed.

 I am not sure though, and never will be. I drift around the castle,

having nothing better to do. If only…I consider going to the library, but

it is too painful. To look upon volume after volume and know that not one

story is about me. I had my chance, and I failed.

There is a way the spell could be broken, but it is impossible. Jareth

must recognize me for the person I am; he must know me. It has never

happened and will never happen. I will never be free to feel ever again.

I came so close, though. Once, a few years ago out of curiosity I wandered

into the library. I happened upon a book that had my name across it. In

this form I have no physical properties, so I waited until I was called

into a character. Of course, then I could not break the script, but to

some extent I have my own thoughts. As she slept, I dreamt of that room,

of that book. I was walking to it, reaching out to it, but the

powers-that-be decided to intervene. As soon as a fingertip brushed

against the cover it disappeared, gone forever. It shall never be. So,

as I always have and always will, I watch over the king, longing to know

what these emotions that I have are. Even if it were possible for me to

escape, I doubt he would allow it. Through me in this form he has the

ability to have Sarah and countless other women, even though it is very

much an illusion. I would be a disappointment after all that, probably.

He stares as a couple of the larger goblins fight, and finally out of

disgust, leaves the room. I wish I could reassure him, comfort him, but

it cannot be so. He walks out of the castle and through the town. I

follow at a distance. He comes across the junkyard and sighs. For some

reason he stops; he has never done so before, not here. Something must

have caught his eye. He bends down and picks up and object, but I am too

far away to see what it is. Turning, he slowly returns to the castle,

inspecting the thing all the way.

Later that evening, I see him in his study, reading. It is a book from

the library. Soon, I will be forced to portray yet another role. I try

to cry, but it is useless. The tears refuse to come. He is utterly

spellbound by whatever tale that has been told. His eyes are wet…my, this

must be a captivating addition. He sets the book on his desk and conjurs

a crystal. Slowly, he begins to whisper a spell.

            I feel myself being harnessed and I wait for what I know is to come…

            I open my eyes carefully. I am lying on a bed in a strange room,

probably a guest room. I cannot stand the thought of having to go through

this again. Yet, as I cry I lift a hand to my face. The tears refuse to-

            What's this? My hand comes away wet. Curious, I lick a fingertip. They

were tears. I realize that I suddenly do not feel trapped, as I have

every time before. But it could be a trick. I know Jareth must have

called another story into being. An experiment, then. I must test this.

As a rule, I am only allowed to speak what is written. Summoning all my

courage, I start to sing. No song in particular, merely an unknown melody.

 It reaches my ears. Startled, I stop and get up. I move a little,

trying to figure out what has happened. And then, the feelings come.

            Feelings of relief, of joy, of …sorrow? Yes, I suppose it would be

suitable, for this means I will never be with Jareth again, unless…. I

drop back down to the bed, frightened, letting the tears stream down my

face. After a few moments, I collect myself, and open my eyes.

            A crystal hangs in the air above me. I have never seen one up close; not

really, anyway. I get up and step towards it. I can see my reflection in

it: very long copper hair, pale skin, grey eyes. I have never seen my

real form before, and I am relieved to see I am somewhat beautiful. It is

then I notice that I am dressed in a simple white gown. Simple, yet

lovely all the same. The crystal shudders in midair. It backs up,

taunting me. I follow, focused only on the glistening sphere. Finally,

it stops. I shake myself out of my daze and notice my surroundings.

Jareth's chambers. I almost run, but something on the bed catches my eye.

 The crystal floats over it and then disappears. I go to the bed and pick

up the book. It says: 'Eve's Tale.' I am so shocked that I almost drop

it. With trembling hands I open the volume, curious as to how this whole

thing will turn out. In it are all of the thoughts I have had deep down

since I came to this life. I quickly turn to the end, but it is blank.

This has never happened before. As I think this, writing appears, mapping

out what has happened. I close the book, and it fades away. This, too,

has never happened. I must be free! My servitude is over, but, what does

this mean?

            I hear a noise and turn towards it. He emerges from the shadow, clothed

only in a midnight blue satin robe. I tremble, something I have not done

in this lifetime. He stops in front of me and smiles softy. "Eve," he

says gently, acknowledging my presence. I sigh at this…a hurricane of

emotions suddenly surfacing. Everything that I have longed to say to him,

everything that I feel…but I am silent. I realize that he already knows,

anyway, since he has read my book. Suddenly shy, I turn my head away,

trying to think of a way to excuse myself. His hand turns it back,

though. The king's eyes are gentle and kind. For the first time I am

able to feel his touch, and I am very much affected by his closeness. No

words need to be spoken, he understands all that I have felt. Gently, he

places his mouth over mine. I tremble violently, never having actually

experienced such sensations. He seems pleased with this and continues,

deepening the kiss. Wrapping his arms around me, he begins to move

towards the bed. There is no doubt in my mind. This is definitely what I

want, yet I am still apprehensive. Jareth tenderly lays me down and sits

beside me. He kisses me again, then moves his lips to cover my neck. I

lean my head back, cherishing each new touch, each new emotion. He runs

his fingers through my long hair. Slowly, he cups my hands in his,

raising them above my head. With a gesture, they stay there. I look to

him for an explanation, and he whispers one in my ear.

            "You have spent your entire lifetime loving, yet not loving. Being

loved, yet not being loved. Please. Allow me to fill your empty heart,

allow me to love you." He looks to me for consent. Scared though I am, I

know that I will not make the same mistake twice. I nod slightly, and he

raises himself off the bed momentarily to rid himself of his robe. I

watch, never taking my eyes off of his gaze as he leans back over me,

slowly removing the dress. The material gone, I have a new fear take me.

I hope he finds me up to his standards. He studies me quietly, then

lowers himself beside me. He wastes no time in kissing me again. Slowly,

taking his sweet time, he runs his hands over me, causing me to quake with

new pleasures. He goes from neck to shoulder, and lower, covering me with

his gaze, hands, and mouth, careful not to miss one inch. I bask in each

new feeling, both physical and emotional. He moves lower, until he

suddenly reaches a hand between my legs.

            I gasp, not being able to contain myself. He raises his lips from my

stomach and regards me for a few moments, quite satisfied that he can give

me this much pleasure. His eyes begin to sparkle with new intent as he

gently pushes my legs farther apart. Slowly, purposefully, so that I may

comprehend each movement, he lowers his face down to meet his hands. He

begins to focus all of his attention on the secret his hand has

discovered, evoking new cries and feelings from me with movements of his

mouth and fingertips.

            I can barely stand it, it is so wonderful. Finally, he kisses down my

legs. I sigh, thinking that finally he will continue, but he has another

idea. He begins to kiss his way back up, again giving each part of me his

attention. Finally, his lips reach my own again, and we are joined. My

hands suddenly freed, I wrap my arms around him, hanging on tightly as

each wave of emotion courses over me.

            When we are finished I lay on my side, leaning back against him,

listening to the rhythm of his breath. He presses his lips on the nape of

my neck, and begins to kiss down my back, then up again. He repeats the

motions, going faster until my entire back is on fire. Turning me towards

him, we begin the dance again.

            It is morning. I do not know how many times we enjoyed each other's

company, but I do know it is worth it. It feels strange knowing that I

will never have to be another person again. I am still immortal, though,

so I must find some way to occupy myself. He stirs beside me and tenderly

enfolds me in his arms.

            "What do you plan to do now?" he asks, his breath tickling my ear.

            "I'm not sure…I have a lot of time to think about it," I sigh. "How will

the stories be acted out now?"

            "I don't know…but I know it will continue, some way. But I would like it

if you would stay and give me your company as my wife. Everything else

has been an illusion. You are the only one who really loves me; it's

always been that way. Please say you'll stay." His musical voice has a

note of longing in it. I blink in disbelief at the realization that he

loves me over each incredible fable. I turn towards him, smiling my own

smile this time.

            "Of course I will."

********************************************