Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth
Author Note: Thank you for the favorites and reviews. I've only posted oneshots before so it's nice to be able to actually say thank you. This chapter takes a from various wedding traditions and such, especially Irish because the general opinion is that Jareth is some type of fae. Enjoy.
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And that was how she found herself standing in front of a man in an outfit that did nothing to show that she had put him and her daydreams long behind her.
"Well? How do you expect me to help you 'fix this'?" He drawled as if they hadn't parted nine years ago under poor circumstances. The perpetual wind in the room blew his tangle of hair into his face like a veil.
"You know how," she replied. Adult, adult, adult she chanted inwardly. "This is your handiwork and I am not going to stand for it."
He stepped into the room now and she took a step back, then thought better of it and stepped to the side to let him pass. The hardness in his mouth had spread to his eyes and he glanced sideways at her. "Yes Sarah, every occurrence of mischief is my doing. There are no other magical beings in this world."
She ignored how his voice deepened with sarcasm. "I saw your goblins. And I was the only one who didn't eat and the only one not stuck in an enchanted ballroom dance."
"So sorry to ruin your expectations of me, Sarah." He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. The goblin at his feet took a few steps back immediately out of kicking range. "Though I am somewhat appreciative that you finally called on me and it refreshing to see you in something other than your stiff business suits."
"What?" The exclamation escaped before she could shave off the roughness and control it. "Have you been watching me?"
He didn't respond at first but held up one finger, a crystal materializing at the tip. It rolled along his fingers before showing a perfect albeit small image of her office. "Easy as it was for you to deny your memory, I did not have it quite so easy. Forgive me for deigning myself to wonder about you from time to time."
"You say it as if I've committed a crime."
"Haven't you? No, don't reply. I believe I am now bound to help you repair this mess and I would like to be done with that as soon as I could."
Control Sarah. Get your control back. "If isn't you, and I don't believe you yet-" His eyes flashed. "-then who is it?"
"If someone had been wished away, they would be gone already. Think Sarah—what other beings can enchant people with food?"
"I don't know, Goblin King. I haven't thought about those things in a long time."
"Yes you do. You remember."
"How are you so sure? If you really have been watching then you know that I haven't picked up a fairy story in years."
"You remember because you consumed those stories when you were younger. And you've already answered your question."
"What do you mean? I-…fairy stories. You mean these are fairies at work? Like the ones outside the Labyrinth who bit?" When he didn't respond she turned the thought over a few times. "Or…you mean the ones who are human-like. Irish fairies."
"Very good. And what do fairies do to humans?"
"I don't appreciate you patronizing me when you could just tell me. You're toying with me."
"It's a hobby of mine," and his tone was a shade too suggestive. "And I imagine you trust answers you come up with far more than mine. What do fairies do to humans?"
"Play tricks on them? And steal children away and leave changelings." She cut her eyes at him. "You're not giving me much faith in you."
"I only take those wished away. Fairies live by their whims and take whatever human they deem talented or beautiful enough. And they love to hover around weddings."
And then it came to her but surprisingly, not from her childhood but from a website link Cathy had sent her about Irish wedding traditions. Half of them had been about this very subject and she had skipped over them. Concentrating, she could summon the website, green with pastel flowers and obligatory Celtic knots, typeface some thin italic thing…
"Fairies…like to steal brides. Because they're the most beautiful when-Cathy!" She picked up her skirts and ran for the door, not expecting him to grip her arm and nearly knock her off of her feet. She could feel heat through the leather glove, cursing that he had chose to touch the half of her arm not in pink fabric. Not that he should affect her so in the first place. "Let me go."
"Do you even have a plan?" He smirked as if he couldn't help it.
"If this ends up going badly for me, I can't see why you would complain."
His fingers tightened around her, teetering on the edge of inflicting pain. Swiftly he twirled her to face him directly, keeping her arm suspended in the air between them. "You have bound me to helping you. And I always grant someone's wishes." Any trace of mirth had left him and the way he looked at her dissolved away nine years of her life. She pulled away but he kept her in place, forcing her to look at him. If he had any purpose, she did not discover it. Within a few moments he let her go.
"The faeries will not be so generous as I was," he went on, resuming a casual pose against the wall. "If you lose her, there will be no second chance."
"If you have an idea then say it. We don't have the time."
He smiled and his teeth glimmered in the light.
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For the past ten moths, Sarah had been scouring old wedding traditions with Cathy. The wedding was such a jumble of themes that the bride hadn't cared from what culture the customs originated.
The Romans started the tradition of bridesmaids for witnesses as well as protection. Typically the bridesmaids would dress alike to the bride so that evil spirits would not know who was getting married.
The Irish placed precautions upon weddings, making the couple eat three spoonfuls of salted oatmeal each and having them swear not to let the bride have both feet in the air while dancing lest she be taken away.
The Goblin King's precautions were of the spirit of these customs but completely his creation. He reordered time to just as the dance was happening and magicked Sarah into a dress like Cathy's with her hair also in a knot and sent her in to the ballroom. He found the bride and engaged her in a sedate waltz, dressed nondescriptly so the villain at work would not spot him.
Sarah meandered through the crowds, willing herself not to look for him as she had done in a ballroom long ago, but for the fairy responsible. Entranced bodies formed a wall that she had to squeeze through. A deep cold spidered in her belly when none of the dancers responded to her pushing. Her shoulder crushed into Mrs. O'Dell's and the woman did not immediately start fussing, asking if she was all right. She just stared back at Mr. O'Dell, rotating in a circle with eyes that held no light and seemed to be trapped beneath a veil.
She had to look for someone not spellbound. She would rather be in her office, going over proofs and combating with her boss over which designs would suit the client. For all her show in the side room, Sarah feared she had long lost her courage. She wondered if Jar-if the Goblin King was disappointed, how much she had fallen. She shook her head violently. His opinion did not matter and who was to say she had fallen? Wasn't it better to move on and grow?
Grow up, yes. But that doesn't mean shutting away the adventure and the friends who made you who you are.
Sarah rubbed at the gauntlets covering her arms, wrists and hands, shutting her eyes as if not seeing would clear her mind. All it did was leave her vulnerable for a hand to touch her shoulder, spinning her slightly.
It was the exceptionally handsome man that Jenny had ogled and who, she realized, a Goblin had stepped on to keep him away from her. Of course—every remarkable man she met ended up being non-human. His silver eyes raked over her in a fashion that was unmistakably predatory and she did her best to stare back as if she too had eaten the fairy food. Oh please don't let my acting skills be so rusty as to fall short, she prayed.
"May I have this dance?" He murmured, hand trailing down her arm to her hand, leaving a trail of ill feeling. Like cobwebs and seaweed. She nodded slowly, keeping her eyes wide but lowered in case he had picked up the differences between her and Cathy that others did not. She slid one hand onto his shoulder, tried not to flinch as his palm fitted to the curve of her waist. His mouth curved to one side and he jerked his head to the other dancers. The parted and formed a circle for them to dance in, heads turned to gaze upon the couple. She focused on his open collar and his jawbone, wondering what to do now that Cathy was safe. She had no desire to be whisked away, doubting there would be someone to win her back. She refused to believe the Goblin king would.
"You are very beautiful," he murmured, touching her chin. What had broken the ballroom spell before?
"Thank you," she murmured. She had been dancing with Jar-with the Goblin King, unable to look away from his eyes and the soft way his lips formed the lyrics of the song. If this fairy started singing to her, she doubted it would be just as magnetizing. And then…
"I could make sure that you stay this beautiful forever, little bride." His lips bent down to her ear and his scent—a heavy but not unpleasant perfume of poppies and chamomile—flooded her senses. Her hand was curling from his shoulder unbidden to touch his dark curls.
Think. Concentrate. She had been dancing with the Goblin King and then she noticed how the other ballroom dancers were laughing at her and how easily she had succumbed to the king's advances. That wasn't going to happen with this zombie-like crowd, though seeing Jenny's usually lively face as a hollow shell jolted her from the raptures of the fairy's hair and smell.
"Beautiful forever?" She repeated.
"Yes…I would keep you always." He leaned in just as the Goblin king had. And then…yes. Back then the clock had struck and alerted her of the need to escape, to continue on with her quest—though at the time she couldn't remember what she was supposed to do. Would a clock break the spell over everyone? Or did it only work on the enchanter's target?
"I…" She needed time. There was something Cathy had read from that website. It was important. "If…If I go with you, will you give me everything I've ever wanted?"
He smiled, his nose almost touching hers. His thick curls were tickling her forehead and his other hand was sliding down to her waist. Panic rose inside of her.
"I am willing to give you your wildest dreams," he chuckled. His skin was terribly cold and so pale, almost translucent. But not disgusting. It was just a type of beauty she could not comprehend with such human eyes. Her hand reached for his cheek and she barely stopped herself.
"If I loved you, you would be my slave?"
"Couples pass out bells to ring to ward off evil sprits and remind couples of their wedding vows in case they are fighting, declaring a truce without one person taking the blame. We should do that too. Glen would think it's neat."
"Your slave?" He chuckled. "Certainly, anything for you, little bride. All it will take is a leap of faith." He bent his knees slightly, grip tight on her waist.
The groom should not lift his bride into the air so that both feet leave the ground or the fairies could take her away.
Her eyes widened and she planted two hands on his shoulders, pushing at him. He faltered for a moment, not expecting such violence. But his grip was strong and he began to lift her as they danced-
"I wish the Goblin King would give me bells right now!"
Ghastly fingers gripped at her legs as the fairy man kept her in the air but stared at her, not quite believing what she had cried out. They both looked to her right hand where two bells had materialized. Her legs kicked, her left arm gripped his sleeve to keep her from being taken and her right hand jangled the bells harshly.
The beautiful face turned ugly and snarling, the veins clearly throbbing against the transparent skin. He smacked the back of his hand against hers, sending the bells soaring into the air. He clawed at the hand holding onto him, nails digging into her skin. She gritted her teeth and held fast, crying as the spirits gripping her legs came back now that the bells had stopped.
"You will be my slave for this," the fairy man growled, one hand stopping its struggles to pull a long dirk from nowhere. Just a dirk, nothing more. But her fingers began to slacken, afraid of that blade slicing down onto her wrist so that she was taken away, maimed. If she was to be lost either way-
The sound of a bell cut through the roar and both she and the fairy man turned to see the bell in the hands of the Goblin King, free of his disguise, great and terrible. He continued ringing. There were horrible screams coming behind her and the beautiful man before her was floating into nothing and she was falling…
…and landing in the arms of the King.
There was a gentle murmur, indicating that the guests were coming alive. Sarah felt him shift her and reflexively grabbed his shoulder for support. The sleeve in front of her was pink, not white. He made a noise between a grunt and a groan as he set her on her feet. She avoided his eyes, wondering what he thought now.
Now that she had used his own words to aid her fight.