Author's Note: This is rated for sexual content and other adult themes, NO KIDDIES ALLOWED! Seriously, I want to be able to sleep at night without worrying that I have corrupted or traumatized some 12 year old.

This starts right at the ending of the movie, but please note there will not be any underage or non-con.

Chapter 1: The Beast Within

The owl watched the creatures on the other side of the window with cold curiosity. He knew them all, he should know them all anyway, though they were not like him. They were not prey, nor were they kin. He clicked his beak in irritation, he longed to fly free, but he felt bound to these creatures, that one in particular, and he did not know why. Fixing his gaze on the tall one with dark hair, it all started to trickle back to him, in bits and pieces. He was the Goblin King, those were his subjects, and the girl was….

-No, he must not allow himself to think of that-

-this was not his regular form. He ruffled his feathers in dismay, what had just happened? He had never forgot himself when he took different shapes before, he was not one to let his mind wander. What bothered him most about it was that it hadn't felt like his mind, not entirely, anyway.

He watched the party for a few moments more, an icy bitterness taking hold in his heart. It didn't matter, nothing mattered, not after what had just happened in his Labyrinth. Overcome with emotion too painful to suppress, he turned his back on her, spread his wings and took flight, intending to return home, to try and forget.

The frigid, immeasurable blackness of the night sky blanketing New York tore at his feathers and burned his eyes as the wind whistled around him, whispering taunts and mockeries. He beat his wings furiously on his course towards the moon, towards the secret path between worlds that he had created, towards his false salvation. Seeing ahead of him the small, nearly imperceptible circle where the stars seemed to twist and stretch approaching, the place where reality seemed somehow corrupted and hollow, he streamlined himself and drove forward with a screech. In a moment, he would be back in his world, his kingdom, where everything had always been under his control, where no one would ever dare to defy him again.

Where no one would ever wound him like this again. He had been a fool, he knew, to indulge in such fancy. Love was a weakness, weakness that a King could not afford.

He would have to change things, become more strict and unforgiving. There could be no more singing and revelry, no more foolish indulgences, either by him or his subjects. Today's events would be forgotten, erased, and his heart would be unassailable stone.

Then maybe, just maybe, he could forget her.

He closed his eyes as he came upon the portal, bitterly embracing this bleak but necessary future. There was a shock as he collided with what felt like a brick wall in midair, and, hurriedly recovering from a downward free fall, he rose back to where the portal was, bruised and baffled. First his memory lapse, now this… something was not right. He cautiously flew around the portal a few times, reaching out with his magic to decipher what might be impeding him. There was nothing, just the feel of empty space, which was so very, very wrong. There was no doubt that this was the portal he had created, but he couldn't feel any magic from it, which made no sense at all. Why wasn't it letting him through?

He tried again a few more times, each and every attempt ending in failure. He circled back down to the ground and landed in a dark grassy alleyway between backyards, wings exhausted and head throbbing. He felt as if there was a pressure in his mind, something trying to break free of the restraints of his consciousness, and it was distractingly painful. He twisted his shoulders so as to turn back into himself, thinking to conjure a medicinary crystal for his headache, so he could think, figure out what was happening. He rested on the grass, fighting nausea and the throbbing in his head as he prepared himself, trying to focus his thoughts on what he wanted. After a moment he noticed, when no crystal appeared in his hand, that he was still in his owl form. He twisted his shoulders again distractedly, willing himself to turn back.

Nothing happened.

Suppressing the icy fingers of panic that had begun digging into his stomach, the Goblin King tried several more times, but each attempt was as unsuccessful as the last. Realizing that for some unfathomable reason he was stuck as an owl, he took off at once for Sarah's house, eyes blurring against the painful pressure in his head. It mortified him to return, but he was growing desperate. He would get the attention of one of his subjects while they were still in the Aboveworld, they could help him get back through the mirror. Whatever this was, it was something that could only be dealt with in the Underground, in the land of magic. Magic that seemed, unexplainably, to be unavailable to him at the moment.

However, his bad luck for the night was far from over. Within a few minutes, the owl's flight path became loopy and twisted as he flew off course. The bird of prey's eyes scanned the ground below for movement, for a potential meal, the Goblin King's previous destination forgotten. The owl could care less about changing shape; though his other consciousness had deemed it a top priority, he did not. He sensed the girl nearby and resented the bone deep feeling of being bound to her. He couldn't stray too far, but he had no intention of going any closer, either. So he flew, and hunted, and watched the noisy, sparkling world beneath him. After a few hours he settled on a low tree branch a mile or so from her house, staring reproachfully towards the east, waiting for the dawn. The owl felt a sense of foreboding as the first lights appeared in the distance, signaling the end of his domain, the end of the night. As the golden light of dawn began to illuminate the distant hills, the owl's eyes closed and it fell from the branch to the ground below, landing with a quiet thump.

It lay there on its stomach on the dewy grass of an alien suburban lawn, wings spread out at unnatural angles and beak slightly open, taloned toes loose and limp. The sun gilded the sky as it readied itself to break over the distant hills, preparing to fill the world with light and warmth, oblivious to the small, still bundle of feathers that was lying alone on the ground. Finally cresting the horizon, the sun shone its first golden rays on the owl, and the small creature began to grow and change. In the time it took to draw a breath, the bird had been replaced by a beautiful man with long, lean, muscular limbs and an abundance of wild blonde hair, lying naked and unconscious on the dewy green grass.

Some distance away, as the first lights of dawn intruded through her window, Sarah Williams turned uncomfortably in her bed, her innocent dreams of magical forests and crystal ballrooms being warped into something darker, simpler, far more animalistic. She began to twist in her sheets, sweating and whimpering as she unconsciously fought against the thing crawling out from deep within her. Her whimpers soon changed into low growls, though, and her writhing ended with her sheets being ripped to shreds by her new claws.

"Sarah? Sarah are you alright? I thought I heard something." a woman's sleepy and concerned voice called out from the other side of the door.

Green eyes opened in sudden alertness and silence fell over the room.

"Sarah? Sarah answer me! Oh, for goodness sakes girl, I'm coming in. I swear, if you let that dog sleep in there again-"

Karen's words died on her tongue as she opened the door, revealing a large white wolf in the center of the room, hackles raised and teeth bared. She let loose a blood-curdling scream as the wolf leapt at her with open jaws, and she slammed the door shut, causing the wolf to yelp as it crashed into the door, before she took off running down the hall.

"Robert! ROBERT! Wake up!" Karen screeched as she burst into the master bedroom. The balding, middle aged man in pinstriped pajamas shot out of bed at his wife's screams, grabbing his rifle from under the mattress and fishing ammunition out of the bedside drawer.

"Jesus, Karen, be quiet! Tell me what's wrong!" he tried to silence his hysterical wife, ears pricked and senses alert for potential danger to his family.

"Something's happened! There's a wolf in Sarah's room!" even as she spoke she realized how absurd she sounded, and an embarrassed blush further reddened her already flushed face.

Robert stopped loading the gun to gawk at his wife. "Come again?"

"I saw it! It was a big white wolf, it tried to kill me! I swear it, Robert!" she whispered hysterically, realizing too late that Toby had been awoken by her panicked screams.

Robert eyed his wife skeptically. "Maybe you were just dreaming, dear," he started soothingly.

A thud and a snarl from down the hall silenced them both, casting any doubts as to his wife's sanity from Robert's mind. He had never been a terribly imaginative person, he liked facts and numbers; safe, logical things that always behaved as they should. And yet, on this most bizarre of mornings, he suddenly found himself thinking of the story of Little Red Riding Hood, and how the wolf had eaten up the little girl, and how the huntsman had saved her by cutting open its belly. He didn't have an axe, but he did have a rifle. He turned to his wife.

"What about Sarah?" he whispered desperately.

"I- I don't know. I called for her, but there was no answer. It all happened so fast, I didn't see-" Karen whispered brokenly, fighting back the hysterical sobs that threatened to break free from her painfully constricted throat.

Robert's expression turned grim and determined. "Take Toby and lock yourself in the car with him. If I don't come out in 10 minutes, drive to the police station." he wasn't entirely sure what the police would be able to do, but, that was what would be logical in any similar, real-life situation.

"Oh, Robert!" Karen wailed, flinging her arms around her husband's neck and giving in to her panicked sobs.

He loosened her arms and held her away from him, a pained expression on his face. "Get it together, Karen! The baby needs you right now."

Karen nodded tearfully, reaching up to give her husband a final kiss before hurrying across the room to retrieve Toby, who had been wailing since first hearing his mother's screams. She gathered him in her arms and started down the stairs, pausing as she reached the front door to look up and lock eyes with her husband. They both jumped as Toby's cries were answered by a long, low howl coming from Sarah's room, and Karen hurried out the front door, not daring to look back.

Robert swallowed thickly and released the safety on the gun, walking barefoot down the hall with slow, measured steps. As he neared his daughter's room, the animalistic snarling and scratching sounds disappeared altogether, and a heavy, ominous silence filled the house.

He stopped in front of the bedroom door, feeling a terror so deep and potent that his mind imagined that he was not frightened at all, no, this was just some horrible, impossible dream that he was, in fact, completely detached from. He nodded to reassure himself, of course, this was ridiculous, there really was nothing to fear. He was having a scotch-induced nightmare, where he was the huntsman of one of his daughter's fairy stories that she used to try to get him to act out with her. Soon he would wake up, and all would be well. That simply made more sense; a sane, logical man would embrace it wholeheartedly and simply wait for reality to reappear.

But just to be sure…

"Sarah? Sarah, honey, can you hear me? Answer me, sweetheart. Please."

There was no answer.

He reached out a shaking hand and turned the knob, flinging the door open wide and placing his finger on the trigger.

The room was trashed. Toys and books were strewn all over the floor, bedding and stuffed animals ripped to pieces.

His eyes swept over the room, seeing no sign of life. Just as he was about to lower the gun, a sudden movement from the far side of the bed flashed in the corner of his eyes, and he impulsively turned towards it and fired.

The wolf leapt forward, feeling something sharp and hot graze her as she leapt at the man, knocking him aside in her desperate bid for freedom. She was terrified and confused, two consciousnesses at war in her mind, one of them, the human one, was horrified at the behavior of the man, the man who was supposed to be her protector, her father, and bewildered at the unfamiliar shape of her body. The other, the wolf, was panicked at being confined and cornered; it longed for open space to run, for a place to hide. In the moments before the gun fired, the stronger, more primal consciousness won out.

She tore down the stairs and out of the open front door before the man could get to his feet again, barely sparing a glance for the screaming woman and child in the car as she raced past them.

She was free, but she had no idea where to go.

Far, far away, in another world, a world of magic and meaning, the Goblin City's inhabitants slept peacefully, unaware of the encroaching danger, of the swords that would soon held to their throats, of the dark times to come. The bluish light of the twin moons cast shadows over the stone streets and illuminated the rooftops with their cool silver glow, creating an illusion of stillness and peace. A tall, thin shape cloaked all in black moved silently through the streets, and all about him large, grotesque shapes danced from shadow to shadow as they made their way to the castle beyond the Goblin City.

As the tall figure confidently approached the huge, ancient castle doors, a wall of translucent magic became increasingly visible, like a dome over the castle, glowing with an ever-brighter crystalline sheen as it sensed the approaching threat. The dark figure stopped a few paces from the shield, raising a gloved hand and beginning to chant under his breath, thinning and draining the shield's power. Under any normal circumstances, any attempt to tamper with such magic would have been fatal, giving the castle's defender a direct line to the invaders heart. But this shield's creator was cursed and bound in another world right now, ignorant and powerless, the man cloaked in black had seen to that.

He raised both hands, palms facing the shield, his chanting becoming breathy and strained as he fought against this magic, magic so very different from his own, created by one whose power had surpassed even his own, though only slightly. With one final effort, the shield cracked and shattered, the massive shards of crystal that rained down on him dissipating into mist before they touched the ground, the spell broken. Followed by his distorted minions, he walked forward calmly, entering the night-darkened castle as if he had done so a thousand times before. His steps led him without err to the throne room, where he stopped suddenly in the entranceway, overcome with silent emotion as his hazel eyes swept the dark, empty room. After a minute of collecting himself, he took the final steps of his long, difficult trek, and slowly settled himself on the throne.

At last.

Sinister clouds and rolling thunder filled the sky then, blocking out all light. Just before the moonlight was snuffed out, a triumphant smile could be seen glinting from beneath his hood.

The Dark King had come.

Author's Notes:

I hope you weren't expecting another comedy.

The inspiration for this story comes from the movie 'Ladyhawke', which I have, in all honesty, never actually seen, but I read a bit about it and thought the idea was so beautifully, tragically romantic. I was immediately beset by angsty plot bunnies that followed me around, singing dramatic operatic numbers about Jareth and Sarah, so I had no choice but to write this. Also, I don't think anyone has written a Ladyhawke inspired Labyfic yet, so booyah! If you are familiar with the movie, don't look for similarities, this is a Labyrinth fic through and through. I am using the night and day idea, but the rest is of my own imagining.

Please review! This is a new genre for me, so I would really appreciate feedback.