author: Lucinda
pairing: Willow/Jareth
Sequel to Roses Sorrow, and story #3 in Goblin Roses
rating: pg 13
disclaimer: I own nobody from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Labyrinth
distribution: Bite me please, WLS, nha, Quickie Challenge, yourmission anyone else please ask first
notes: AU season 7, based on rumors and spoilers mentioned
She was feeling better about everything. Remembering her life Before no longer brought tears to her eyes, and she could actually remember Tara without dissolving into tears, remember her former friends without the feeling of pained betrayal ripping her open inside. She was also starting to come to accept the fact that they'd forgotten her, allowed her to vanish from their lives with no more than a shrug and a sigh.
Not only had the memories lost some of their sting, she was feeling better physically. It was as if her long walks through the Labyrinth and her new fencing lessons with Jareth were bringing strength to her body. She was even starting to get used to the long velvet-like gowns that seemed to be the normal apparel for the Castle. Which seemed so much more welcoming now. There were lush carpets in some of the rooms, vibrant tapestries, the windows were sparkling and clean, many with stained glass insets glowing like jewels under the sun. Beautiful flowers blossomed, even in the dismal heart of the Bog of Eternal Stench. If ever there was a place that had needed a bit of prettying up, the Bog was it. It still stank, but at least it looked a bit nicer, with the flowers and the now colorful insects.
She was even starting to think that maybe Jareth was right. Maybe she could become one of the Fae some day, in the future. If he didn't get tired of having her here, which he really didn't seem to be doing. She tried to imagine what sort of Fae she might become. Perhaps if she was a Fae, she wouldn't feel the urge to sit in blue jeans, carefully created with her magic to fit just the way her old ones had, and duplicates of her worn sneakers and a fuzzy sweater.
"Lady Willow? Himself wants you to come to the throne room." A voice, somewhat creaky as many of the goblin's voices were, interrupted her thoughts.
With a small smile, she looked at Hoggle. He seemed to have a somewhat more trusted position among the goblins, even if he didn't quite realize it. "Thank you, I'll be right there as soon as I change into something more formal."
Willow stood up, habit causing her to brush the bits of grass and leaves from her jeans. Closing her eyes, she formed an image of a gown, deep green almost black with gold embroidery and those slashed sleeves with something like gold colored silk pulled through, her hair bound back with matching green ribbons and golden combs. She felt the power hum around her, like the strains of an old waltz, and there was this feeling of shifting weight, and she was gowned in velvet. Not quite like she'd imagined, the neckline seemed a bit lower, showing cleavage made more impressive by the bodice, and the velvety over gown was split in the center to reveal more of the golden silk, but she looked quite formal enough for whatever was going on in the throne room. Smiling, she started off towards it, feeling the knot of power that was Jareth as well as another knot, the feeling similar but not the same. Another Fae?
Entering the throne room, Willow saw Jareth, his outfit a splendid thing of silver silk and white velvet, sparkling with diamonds. He was definitely being the Goblin King right now, and she had a suspicion that it had to do with the other Fae. Glancing at the other presence, she observed that he also looked mostly human, much like Jareth did. But his eyes... one was dark brown, like freshly turned earth, and the other was as yellow as a vampire's. He wore blood red silk and black velvet, his dark hair hanging long like a mane around him. His fingers ended in talon like nails, and his ears were pointed. When he turned to glare at whoever had entered the room, she noticed that his teeth were also pointed. As a random guess, she would assume that this wasn't one of the Fae that was particularly fond of human... unless they were dinner. She really hoped that he didn't actually... but some of the ancient legends...
"Why is there a mortal in the room? Why allow your pet to wander unrestrained?" His voice was like syrup, oozing forth, filling the room and clinging. It was a bit deeper than Jareth's, but lacked the resonance of as much power.
Willow felt herself bristle at the arrogance and... unfeelingness in the other Fae's voice. She definitely didn't like him, and... he was sitting in her chair! Hmmmph. But the silk and velvet looked very good on Jareth.
"Willow is my guest, not my pet, Markess. Willow, " he glanced over, and she could see in his eyes that he was not amused with the whole situation. "Make yourself comfortable, sit down. I think this might take a while."
With a slight smile and a careful curtsey, she murmured "Of course, your majesty." This time, it was far easier to persuade the castle to give her a chair, a curved shape beside Jareth's, looking like part of a glistening crystal sphere on a cylindrical pedestal. She settled into it, her hands automatically smoothing the skirts into order.
Sitting there, she kept her eyes seemingly downcast, watching the two men under her lashes. Markess was larger, his clothing making him seem all... menacing and ominous, downright predatory in fact. But Jareth had a sort of careful control to him, and a feeling of power that exceeded that of the larger Fae. Carefully, she let herself look at them magically, seeing not their bodies but their essence.
A large sable wolf flickered into Markess and back again, reddish power around him like a sullen corona. Jareth shimmered like moonlight on ice, and the image of a silver white owl flickered. Jareth had more magic, and she thought he might be older, but Markess... the feeling of him reminded her so much of the evil vampires that she had fought.
They discussed something, the sort of icily polite discussion that is almost but not quite an argument. Apparently, there was to be a ball, and Markess was unhappy about some of the details, some of the people and beings invited. Jareth's position was that since it was HIS ball being held in HIS castle and HE was providing all the entertainment and refreshment, it was entirely up to him who and what he invited. Markess sounded... rather petty, actually, and a bit bitter. Eventually, Markess vanished in a swirl of thick black smoke, a small scorched place on the floor where he'd stood.
"Let me guess... he doesn't like humans, my presence offends him, and he's sure he could do your job better?" She knew that even as she said the words, she would never have dared when she first arrived here. How long ago had that been? There was no changing of the seasons here, nothing more than day or night to mark the time. Even that could change, days stretching hours longer than they should, or passing in flickers.
Jareth smiled, sitting beside her as he studied her gown and the new chair. "Quite pretty... and you're entirely correct about Markess. He's also my half brother, so he feels that he has a claim on this kingdom, should I falter or perish."
"So... does that mean that you have to invite him? Because of Fae politics?" Willow tried to smile, something made easier by Jareth sitting so close, looking so radiant.
Jareth sighed, draping himself across his chair. "Yes, unfortunately I must. He has enough people... not precisely on his side, but enough that would want to cause me problems that there will be less political problems from inviting him than leaving him out. But... he's not safe for mortals, for anyone he considers to be a lesser creature."
"Do you think he'll try to cause trouble? I sort of thought... since you were all done up in your royal impressive look, that the majesty and everything couldn't hurt." She was trying to think about this. What if Markess tried to do something to her? Could she counter his magic?
Jareth smiled, reaching out to run his thumb over her cheek. "I'm certain that you'll be able to counter anything he tries. And yes, the formal protocol was the best choice in that mess. I'll have to teach you the formal titles for everyone..." He looked as if he was mentally reviewing something, possibly the guest list.
"Jareth? Are all the other Fae... he looked... different. Sort of feral. You don't look like that. Is it... are you different? Is he different? Or maybe there just isn't a Fae type..."
Like sunlight, Jareth's chuckle spread through the room, chasing away the memory of Markess. "You are a delight, my rose. As for that... I am a pure Fae. Markess... our mother is Fae, but his father wasn't. Oh, his father is considered among the Fae peoples, but... there are many types of beings classed among the Fae besides the true Fae. His father... would be more like an animal spirit than an elf, in human legends. A forest spirit. But Lycaon is a far more pleasant tempered individual."
"If there are a lot of different types of Fae... you mentioned that you.. or presumably other powerful Fae as well, can change someone from a mortal to a Fae. What type of Fae do they become?" She had so many questions in her mind. Was this the source of some of the transformative legends from ancient mythology? Whimsical Fae deciding to change mortals?
"There are a number of things that determine... influence such things. But.. to be entirely honest..." He paused, and Willow knew it was because it was hard for Jareth to be completely honest about things. "We can't tell. There are hints, things that help us make a guess, but... aspects of the mortal's personality, their affinities, and sometimes even the phase of the moon or the Fae changing them can influence it. And only the Fae descended from the Royal Line can cause the change."
"How can you tell if a Fae... umm, how can I tell if a Fae is of the Royal line?" She had the feeling that the Fae would know. Those born to the Fae wouldn't need to ask, or maybe it was something they learned while growing up.
"By our eyes. The Royal line always have eyes that don't match. That's what marks them as... royal. It's more than just a matter of ancestry, there have been Fae born to Royal mothers or to royal fathers that weren't royal. There's a difference in the power, in our connection to the Faerie realms. And this stronger connection... what we do is use our connection to link the mortal to the Fae lands, which makes them into Fae themselves." His voice was becoming warmer, more open. Hopefully, it was a sign that he was calming down from that encounter with Markess.
Suddenly, it occurred to Willow that he'd said she would be able to handle anything that Markess tried. "So... I'm supposed to go to the ball? Sounds... almost Cinderella-ish. Only, hopefully without the curfew. and... what sort of clothing is appropriate?"
He smiled, that look that said he was amused by some secret that he was keeping. "Of course you're invited, formal gowns with a mask, and there is no special curfew for you or anyone else. You aren't asking why I've invited you?"
"Of course not. I know you well enough to have a good idea why." She smiled at him, hoping that there would be dancing... that maybe... maybe she and Jareth could dance together.
He looked almost worried for a moment. "Enlighten me then, why did I decide you were invited?"
"Because you thought it would be educational and entertaining, not just for me but to watch me baffle people who expect a certain reaction. And then when wolf-boy threw a fit, there was the added bonus that it would annoy him. Am I close?"
Jareth laughed, the sound echoing on the walls. "You have been learning about me. And you are right, I do want you to learn. One day, you will also be one of the Fae, and then you will have a long time to deal with these people."
Her smile and answering laughter were almost without thought. "I look forward to it. To becoming someone that belongs here, someone with a place to call home."
Taking her hand in his, he rubbed his thumb over her hand. "But you are home. This is your home now, now and always."
All she could do was blush, delighted and charmed and certain that there was a lot more significance to that then the idea that he wouldn't send her back to Sunnydale. The look in his eyes, the intensity... Oh yes, he'd definitely meant something. But what?
end Roses Revitalized.
pairing: Willow/Jareth
Sequel to Roses Sorrow, and story #3 in Goblin Roses
rating: pg 13
disclaimer: I own nobody from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Labyrinth
distribution: Bite me please, WLS, nha, Quickie Challenge, yourmission anyone else please ask first
notes: AU season 7, based on rumors and spoilers mentioned
She was feeling better about everything. Remembering her life Before no longer brought tears to her eyes, and she could actually remember Tara without dissolving into tears, remember her former friends without the feeling of pained betrayal ripping her open inside. She was also starting to come to accept the fact that they'd forgotten her, allowed her to vanish from their lives with no more than a shrug and a sigh.
Not only had the memories lost some of their sting, she was feeling better physically. It was as if her long walks through the Labyrinth and her new fencing lessons with Jareth were bringing strength to her body. She was even starting to get used to the long velvet-like gowns that seemed to be the normal apparel for the Castle. Which seemed so much more welcoming now. There were lush carpets in some of the rooms, vibrant tapestries, the windows were sparkling and clean, many with stained glass insets glowing like jewels under the sun. Beautiful flowers blossomed, even in the dismal heart of the Bog of Eternal Stench. If ever there was a place that had needed a bit of prettying up, the Bog was it. It still stank, but at least it looked a bit nicer, with the flowers and the now colorful insects.
She was even starting to think that maybe Jareth was right. Maybe she could become one of the Fae some day, in the future. If he didn't get tired of having her here, which he really didn't seem to be doing. She tried to imagine what sort of Fae she might become. Perhaps if she was a Fae, she wouldn't feel the urge to sit in blue jeans, carefully created with her magic to fit just the way her old ones had, and duplicates of her worn sneakers and a fuzzy sweater.
"Lady Willow? Himself wants you to come to the throne room." A voice, somewhat creaky as many of the goblin's voices were, interrupted her thoughts.
With a small smile, she looked at Hoggle. He seemed to have a somewhat more trusted position among the goblins, even if he didn't quite realize it. "Thank you, I'll be right there as soon as I change into something more formal."
Willow stood up, habit causing her to brush the bits of grass and leaves from her jeans. Closing her eyes, she formed an image of a gown, deep green almost black with gold embroidery and those slashed sleeves with something like gold colored silk pulled through, her hair bound back with matching green ribbons and golden combs. She felt the power hum around her, like the strains of an old waltz, and there was this feeling of shifting weight, and she was gowned in velvet. Not quite like she'd imagined, the neckline seemed a bit lower, showing cleavage made more impressive by the bodice, and the velvety over gown was split in the center to reveal more of the golden silk, but she looked quite formal enough for whatever was going on in the throne room. Smiling, she started off towards it, feeling the knot of power that was Jareth as well as another knot, the feeling similar but not the same. Another Fae?
Entering the throne room, Willow saw Jareth, his outfit a splendid thing of silver silk and white velvet, sparkling with diamonds. He was definitely being the Goblin King right now, and she had a suspicion that it had to do with the other Fae. Glancing at the other presence, she observed that he also looked mostly human, much like Jareth did. But his eyes... one was dark brown, like freshly turned earth, and the other was as yellow as a vampire's. He wore blood red silk and black velvet, his dark hair hanging long like a mane around him. His fingers ended in talon like nails, and his ears were pointed. When he turned to glare at whoever had entered the room, she noticed that his teeth were also pointed. As a random guess, she would assume that this wasn't one of the Fae that was particularly fond of human... unless they were dinner. She really hoped that he didn't actually... but some of the ancient legends...
"Why is there a mortal in the room? Why allow your pet to wander unrestrained?" His voice was like syrup, oozing forth, filling the room and clinging. It was a bit deeper than Jareth's, but lacked the resonance of as much power.
Willow felt herself bristle at the arrogance and... unfeelingness in the other Fae's voice. She definitely didn't like him, and... he was sitting in her chair! Hmmmph. But the silk and velvet looked very good on Jareth.
"Willow is my guest, not my pet, Markess. Willow, " he glanced over, and she could see in his eyes that he was not amused with the whole situation. "Make yourself comfortable, sit down. I think this might take a while."
With a slight smile and a careful curtsey, she murmured "Of course, your majesty." This time, it was far easier to persuade the castle to give her a chair, a curved shape beside Jareth's, looking like part of a glistening crystal sphere on a cylindrical pedestal. She settled into it, her hands automatically smoothing the skirts into order.
Sitting there, she kept her eyes seemingly downcast, watching the two men under her lashes. Markess was larger, his clothing making him seem all... menacing and ominous, downright predatory in fact. But Jareth had a sort of careful control to him, and a feeling of power that exceeded that of the larger Fae. Carefully, she let herself look at them magically, seeing not their bodies but their essence.
A large sable wolf flickered into Markess and back again, reddish power around him like a sullen corona. Jareth shimmered like moonlight on ice, and the image of a silver white owl flickered. Jareth had more magic, and she thought he might be older, but Markess... the feeling of him reminded her so much of the evil vampires that she had fought.
They discussed something, the sort of icily polite discussion that is almost but not quite an argument. Apparently, there was to be a ball, and Markess was unhappy about some of the details, some of the people and beings invited. Jareth's position was that since it was HIS ball being held in HIS castle and HE was providing all the entertainment and refreshment, it was entirely up to him who and what he invited. Markess sounded... rather petty, actually, and a bit bitter. Eventually, Markess vanished in a swirl of thick black smoke, a small scorched place on the floor where he'd stood.
"Let me guess... he doesn't like humans, my presence offends him, and he's sure he could do your job better?" She knew that even as she said the words, she would never have dared when she first arrived here. How long ago had that been? There was no changing of the seasons here, nothing more than day or night to mark the time. Even that could change, days stretching hours longer than they should, or passing in flickers.
Jareth smiled, sitting beside her as he studied her gown and the new chair. "Quite pretty... and you're entirely correct about Markess. He's also my half brother, so he feels that he has a claim on this kingdom, should I falter or perish."
"So... does that mean that you have to invite him? Because of Fae politics?" Willow tried to smile, something made easier by Jareth sitting so close, looking so radiant.
Jareth sighed, draping himself across his chair. "Yes, unfortunately I must. He has enough people... not precisely on his side, but enough that would want to cause me problems that there will be less political problems from inviting him than leaving him out. But... he's not safe for mortals, for anyone he considers to be a lesser creature."
"Do you think he'll try to cause trouble? I sort of thought... since you were all done up in your royal impressive look, that the majesty and everything couldn't hurt." She was trying to think about this. What if Markess tried to do something to her? Could she counter his magic?
Jareth smiled, reaching out to run his thumb over her cheek. "I'm certain that you'll be able to counter anything he tries. And yes, the formal protocol was the best choice in that mess. I'll have to teach you the formal titles for everyone..." He looked as if he was mentally reviewing something, possibly the guest list.
"Jareth? Are all the other Fae... he looked... different. Sort of feral. You don't look like that. Is it... are you different? Is he different? Or maybe there just isn't a Fae type..."
Like sunlight, Jareth's chuckle spread through the room, chasing away the memory of Markess. "You are a delight, my rose. As for that... I am a pure Fae. Markess... our mother is Fae, but his father wasn't. Oh, his father is considered among the Fae peoples, but... there are many types of beings classed among the Fae besides the true Fae. His father... would be more like an animal spirit than an elf, in human legends. A forest spirit. But Lycaon is a far more pleasant tempered individual."
"If there are a lot of different types of Fae... you mentioned that you.. or presumably other powerful Fae as well, can change someone from a mortal to a Fae. What type of Fae do they become?" She had so many questions in her mind. Was this the source of some of the transformative legends from ancient mythology? Whimsical Fae deciding to change mortals?
"There are a number of things that determine... influence such things. But.. to be entirely honest..." He paused, and Willow knew it was because it was hard for Jareth to be completely honest about things. "We can't tell. There are hints, things that help us make a guess, but... aspects of the mortal's personality, their affinities, and sometimes even the phase of the moon or the Fae changing them can influence it. And only the Fae descended from the Royal Line can cause the change."
"How can you tell if a Fae... umm, how can I tell if a Fae is of the Royal line?" She had the feeling that the Fae would know. Those born to the Fae wouldn't need to ask, or maybe it was something they learned while growing up.
"By our eyes. The Royal line always have eyes that don't match. That's what marks them as... royal. It's more than just a matter of ancestry, there have been Fae born to Royal mothers or to royal fathers that weren't royal. There's a difference in the power, in our connection to the Faerie realms. And this stronger connection... what we do is use our connection to link the mortal to the Fae lands, which makes them into Fae themselves." His voice was becoming warmer, more open. Hopefully, it was a sign that he was calming down from that encounter with Markess.
Suddenly, it occurred to Willow that he'd said she would be able to handle anything that Markess tried. "So... I'm supposed to go to the ball? Sounds... almost Cinderella-ish. Only, hopefully without the curfew. and... what sort of clothing is appropriate?"
He smiled, that look that said he was amused by some secret that he was keeping. "Of course you're invited, formal gowns with a mask, and there is no special curfew for you or anyone else. You aren't asking why I've invited you?"
"Of course not. I know you well enough to have a good idea why." She smiled at him, hoping that there would be dancing... that maybe... maybe she and Jareth could dance together.
He looked almost worried for a moment. "Enlighten me then, why did I decide you were invited?"
"Because you thought it would be educational and entertaining, not just for me but to watch me baffle people who expect a certain reaction. And then when wolf-boy threw a fit, there was the added bonus that it would annoy him. Am I close?"
Jareth laughed, the sound echoing on the walls. "You have been learning about me. And you are right, I do want you to learn. One day, you will also be one of the Fae, and then you will have a long time to deal with these people."
Her smile and answering laughter were almost without thought. "I look forward to it. To becoming someone that belongs here, someone with a place to call home."
Taking her hand in his, he rubbed his thumb over her hand. "But you are home. This is your home now, now and always."
All she could do was blush, delighted and charmed and certain that there was a lot more significance to that then the idea that he wouldn't send her back to Sunnydale. The look in his eyes, the intensity... Oh yes, he'd definitely meant something. But what?
end Roses Revitalized.