author: Lucinda
pairing: Willow/Jareth
Story #5 in Goblin Roses
rating: pg
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
Willow tried to calm her nerves as she walked with Jareth towards the main hall. Her costume was elegant, and if it had made Jareth smile than it would surely be suitable for the occasion. And while the shimmering illusions of butterflies fluttering around her and the blooms of roses that had the scent of real roses, assisted by the real amber hued roses woven into her hair could be dispelled, then her outfit would still be there, still real and firmly sewn together. She shouldn't find herself unexpectedly naked in public. Hopefully, there wouldn't be any other forms of attempted public humiliation.
"He's going to be here, and trying to cause problems, isn't he?" Her question was low, and she didn't mention the name of Jareth's brother out loud.
Jareth nodded, his fingers tightening on her hand slightly. "Yes, and I do apologize in advance for the amount of trouble he might try to send towards you. He'll consider your presence as an insult." There was a brief pause as they walked over polished stone, the floor of this room now a mosaic geometric pattern in green, blue and black. "Unfortunately, he has a somewhat distorted perception of his proper place in the Fae Kingdoms."
"Well, if I let every person who had their own personal annoyance ruin my life, I'd be... the same person that I was at fifteen. Fortunately for me, I've grown up since then." Willow sighed, wondering if she might have been happier if she'd never learned about any of this, never studied magic. But then, if she'd never learned, it was most likely that she would be some variation of dead, or possibly undead.
Lifting her hand, he placed a feather light kiss on the back of it. "I'm delighted with the Willow I have with me today. And I have faith that you can easily handle any of his tricks. He may be fairly capable, but Markess lacks your creativity."
Willow smiled, her soft murmur of 'Thank you' the last thing that she could manage as she stared at the newly remodeled Great Hall.
Instead of the normal vaulted ceiling with the gray stone walls and Jareth's throne, there was a vast expanse of room. The vaulted ceiling shimmered with tiny lights, as if mimicking the night sky. The floor was a reflective black, almost like obsidian, but not slippery. Pillars that almost looked like trees rose up, scattered through the hall, set with soft, silvery glows. There were arched doorways to various other rooms, including the water room that Willow had added.
Guests were already arriving. Tall, elegant figures shimmering in silks and gauze, velvet and fur, feathers and shimmering power... those would be what Jareth had called the true Fae. There were others, some taller, some shorter, with fur and feathers and shimmerings, their shapes less leanly elegant and more varied. Beings that seemed a mingling of man and beast, or possibly Fae and beast moved, a serpent like creature with a more humanoid torso among the most striking. There were also shuffling goblins, a few hulking shapes of creatures that she couldn't quite name that made her think of legends of giants and ogres. Everyone seemed to be done up in something formal, with gleaming silver and gold, the glitter of jewels and the soft luster of expensive fabrics.
Willow felt her stomach tense, as she remembered her persistent dread of being the focus of attention. Stage fright would be very bad here, especially since there would be too many potentially unfriendly eyes on her. Surely Markess would not be the only creature here who thought badly of humans? She shifted her magical protections a bit, making them look less human, and more like a bubble of the Fae lands. It was one of the tricks that Jareth had shown her, and it might be some help. At the least, it would make her feel a bit safer.
She resisted the urge to cling to Jareth like a drowning cat. Instead, she placed her hand lightly on his arm, fingers rubbing slightly on the velvet of his sleeve. Willow reminded herself that she had to contain her nerves, especially since even human bullies could pick up on such things. She was certain the Fae would also be capable of smelling fear, which meant that she had to do her best not to let any show. And the opportunity to meet so many different beings was... marvelous and fascinating and unsettling, all at once. Especially since if she became Fae, she could end up looking like one of them - or at least a female version, in some cases.
Maybe becoming a part of this world wouldn't be so bad? Maybe it wouldn't be as unsettling as she'd feared? Things didn't seem that different in the ways that mattered, after all. The Fae may have looked different, in some cases very different, but they were still people, with hopes, and dreams, and goals. And ambitions and phobias, and prejudices as well, she reminded herself. Some of the Fae were glaring at her, finding her presence on Jareth's arm aggravating. Maybe they wanted to be on his arm instead, or maybe they felt her to be an intruder, or somehow lesser for her humanity. Being part of the Fae world would not be an end to the challenges of life. It would only change some of them, and extend the amount of time indefinitely. And maybe, becoming Fae would increase her chances for something with Jareth?
There were females of all sorts of Fae flirting with Jareth, some subtly, others almost making blatant offers. One even ran her fingers over the low cut edges of her pink gauze, licking her very pink lips as she leaned closer, offering to 'show him pleasures far more potent than anything that some human girl could offer.'
Had Markess sent this... female after Jareth? Did she mean Willow, or something else? Maybe she should do a little investigating of Jareth's past... Willow looked at the Fae woman in question, her slender figure covered in ivory pale skin and crowned with almost metallic golden hair, falling in ringlets past her hips. She was wrapped in pink gauze, and golden jewelry, and seemed... quite forward. One might even say trampy...
Jareth simply looked at her, his eyes cold and hard. "Krellmone, I am not seeking advice on my sexual partners or habits from you. You know nothing of my personal preferences, and you are not going to learn."
The blond, apparently named Krellmone, pulled back, looking as shocked as if he'd slapped her. "What? You'd prefer some human to one of the Fae? I'd hoped the rumors were merely unfounded slander." With a disdainful sniff, she walked away, the almost exagerated sway of her hips capturing the eyes of many people in the area.
Willow could taste anger, and a part of her wondered if the Fae woman would survive having each one of those golden hairs yanked out, every inch of that flawlessly pale skin peeled from her body... And yes, the woman was gorgeous. Except that it felt too perfect, to calculated. Maybe she was a succubus or something? Would that be better or worse than simply a trampy Fae? "An associate of your brother?"
"Simply an ambitious woman who wants to be the consort of a King. Any king." Jareth's voice was rather dry, and he brushed her fingers with his own, as if in reassurance. "Markess prefers more direct courses of action."
They continued circulating, greeting newly arrived guests, and exchanging polite conversation and sometimes careful almost threats with various creatures, many of them the true Fae.
It came when Jareth was offering good wishes for the continued health of a Royal Fae, a striking woman with red-black hair and one shadow black eye and the other an almost painfully bright yellow white. She was gowned in what looked like velvet woven from shadows and blood hued silk, a few gleaming golden accents that looked ancient adding a faint gleam. She felt old, and powerful, and unpredictable, even more than any other Fae Willow had met. Something slithered through the air, and the shimmering colors of fabrics dulled, gems lost their luster, certain bits of gold dulled to brass, and Willow's flock of illusory butterflies dissolved into nothingness.
Illusions had been broken.
Willow wasn't certain if she wanted to look at the wings or not. She was just busy thanking every lucky star, rock, plant and deity, real or fictional that she'd ever heard of that her outfit wasn't made from illusion or held together by magic as was apparently the case with many of the other guests. She opened her eyes, almost seeing a bit of humor in the shocked and appalled expressions on some of the Fae. Hers were not the only illusions broken, and some of the Fae, now wearing a lot less, and in some cases nothing, were looking displeased. Some looked embarrassed, and it was vaguely interesting to discover just how far a Fae could blush. Others looked furious, and Willow felt unexpectedly glad that it was very obvious that she couldn't have been responsible.
"Who would have such a miserable lack of manners and discretion at my son's festivities?" The voice of the Fae woman echoed, rolling through the whole castle like thunder and bells and the growl of an angry cat. She looked furious.
Willow glanced around the edges of what had rapidly become a clearing. Only those who'd been affected remained in the middle, the other Fae pulling away as if afraid. Maybe they were afraid of their own illusions breaking? Of course, it was now clear that everyone was afraid of the Queen Mother's wrath. Her clothing looked a bit more normal now, almost ordinary black velvet and crimson silk, but the power that filled her, flowed over her was... Terrifying. One interesting discovery was one of the Fae towards the edge of the illusionless space. Markess was there, looking unhappy and a bit worried.
Judging from his expression, he might have had something to do with it, but it hadn't been his spell. Catching the Queen would most definitely not have been something that he would have done. Bitter, ambitious, and disliking humans he may have been, but only a fool would deliberately draw the anger of that formidable woman. He didn't appear to recognize Willow at first, but after a moment's blank look at the wings and he looked at her face, a look of surprise on his own.
There was an utter lack of conversation, and Willow had the sudden thought that she could hear the gathered Fae breathing, feel the pulsing of their hearts. The idea that the Fae, each powerful and presumably immortal, were afraid was sobering. Willow glanced over at the Queen, not quite meeting those eyes.
"Should I assume that there is someone objecting to your presence here, mortal?" The Queen's voice was directed toward Willow.
For a moment, Willow's throat was too tight for words, and her head spun from fear. "I... I think it was more because... because I am here with Jareth than because I'm in the Goblin Kingdom. Apparently, they think he could do better."
The Queen's gaze fell entirely on Willow, and the intensity of it was easily tangible, and made Willow's knees feel weak. "Yes, I suppose there would be those who would find that objectionable. But really, there are only two possible outcomes of your association with Jareth. Either as a mortal, you will eventually grow old and die, or he will make you one of the Fae, thus removing the source of their objection. As his kingdom is prospering, my son's diversions or searches for a possible bride should be of nobody's concern."
The presence and words of the Queen - somehow, she couldn't picture anything less than the capitalized version managing to apply to this woman - demanded some sort of response. Willow sank into the most graceful curtsey that she could manage then, feeling awkward and oh so glad not to be meeting the Fae Queen's eyes any longer. "Majesty."
With a rustle of velvet and hiss of silk, the Fae Queen moved away, and Jareth was at her side, hand at her elbow, steadying her. He helped her to her feet, fingers brushing her cheek. "It will be alright, my Willow rose. And since my mother has made it very clear that she does not feel any interference is necessary..."
Still trying to regain her internal balance, Willow smiled weakly. "Her eyes are... like shadow and sunlight all at once."
"Few among even the Fae would be willing to meet her eyes." Markess spoke, lurking near them.
Jareth glared at his brother, almost as if challenging him to do something foolish. "Markess. I do hope the festivities haven't bored you."
"I've been in the blue room. The waterfall was a nice touch." A small, bitter smile crossed his face. "I would rather be bored than have mother in that mood."
Willow blinked, feeling a small smile bloom on her face. Markess liked the water room that she'd created? That felt oddly satisfying, even or perhaps especially since he didn't know that she'd created it. "I don't think anyone would want her Majesty in that mood. Not anyone sane, at least."
Markess looked at her again, and this time, he was really looking at her, as if he was curious about Willow, and not simply seeing a human. "You... would make a good Fae. Far better, I think, than a mortal. But I still don't think mortals have a need to be in the castle."
Jareth chuckled a bit as Markess strode away. "I think he's decided that you aren't too bad. Probably because it isn't very common to find someone able to meet mother's eyes without turning into a quivering mass on the floor."
Willow smiled a little, setting her illusions back into place, the roses and butterflies once more embellishing her gown. "She's... everything some of the older stories paint the Fae to be. Beautiful, ancient, powerful and terrifying. I don't think I could ever be a Fae like that... but I don't really think anyone else in the room could be a Fae quite like her either."
"There is only room in existence for one person like Queen Morrigan, my Willow. But perhaps you could be one of the Fae as well." Jareth's body was almost touching her own, and his words were soft near her ear.
Willow allowed her mind to turn over the possibility. "I think so... but not today. That should be an occasion in itself, not a foot note to tonight."
Jareth's smile was intense, and full of delight and mystery. "An occasion of note, yes. And then, you will be Fae, and there will be no more of that silly talk of returning to Sunnydale. You belong here, now."
"Here, yes." Willow smiled at him, her fingers entwining with his own. "So... is there a chance that I might really end up as a butterfly queen?"
"I certainly intend for you to be a queen, my Willow. But as for the butterfly part... Who can tell?" Jareth smiled.
The rest of the party, thankfully, was much quieter. Socializing, flirting, music... and there was dancing. Willow found herself dancing with Jareth, and Markess, and many other people, some of which she could remember the names of, and others whom she was certain she hadn't been introduced to. Willow found herself thinking of the future with a smile. This would be home.
end Thorns of the Rose.
pairing: Willow/Jareth
Story #5 in Goblin Roses
rating: pg
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
Willow tried to calm her nerves as she walked with Jareth towards the main hall. Her costume was elegant, and if it had made Jareth smile than it would surely be suitable for the occasion. And while the shimmering illusions of butterflies fluttering around her and the blooms of roses that had the scent of real roses, assisted by the real amber hued roses woven into her hair could be dispelled, then her outfit would still be there, still real and firmly sewn together. She shouldn't find herself unexpectedly naked in public. Hopefully, there wouldn't be any other forms of attempted public humiliation.
"He's going to be here, and trying to cause problems, isn't he?" Her question was low, and she didn't mention the name of Jareth's brother out loud.
Jareth nodded, his fingers tightening on her hand slightly. "Yes, and I do apologize in advance for the amount of trouble he might try to send towards you. He'll consider your presence as an insult." There was a brief pause as they walked over polished stone, the floor of this room now a mosaic geometric pattern in green, blue and black. "Unfortunately, he has a somewhat distorted perception of his proper place in the Fae Kingdoms."
"Well, if I let every person who had their own personal annoyance ruin my life, I'd be... the same person that I was at fifteen. Fortunately for me, I've grown up since then." Willow sighed, wondering if she might have been happier if she'd never learned about any of this, never studied magic. But then, if she'd never learned, it was most likely that she would be some variation of dead, or possibly undead.
Lifting her hand, he placed a feather light kiss on the back of it. "I'm delighted with the Willow I have with me today. And I have faith that you can easily handle any of his tricks. He may be fairly capable, but Markess lacks your creativity."
Willow smiled, her soft murmur of 'Thank you' the last thing that she could manage as she stared at the newly remodeled Great Hall.
Instead of the normal vaulted ceiling with the gray stone walls and Jareth's throne, there was a vast expanse of room. The vaulted ceiling shimmered with tiny lights, as if mimicking the night sky. The floor was a reflective black, almost like obsidian, but not slippery. Pillars that almost looked like trees rose up, scattered through the hall, set with soft, silvery glows. There were arched doorways to various other rooms, including the water room that Willow had added.
Guests were already arriving. Tall, elegant figures shimmering in silks and gauze, velvet and fur, feathers and shimmering power... those would be what Jareth had called the true Fae. There were others, some taller, some shorter, with fur and feathers and shimmerings, their shapes less leanly elegant and more varied. Beings that seemed a mingling of man and beast, or possibly Fae and beast moved, a serpent like creature with a more humanoid torso among the most striking. There were also shuffling goblins, a few hulking shapes of creatures that she couldn't quite name that made her think of legends of giants and ogres. Everyone seemed to be done up in something formal, with gleaming silver and gold, the glitter of jewels and the soft luster of expensive fabrics.
Willow felt her stomach tense, as she remembered her persistent dread of being the focus of attention. Stage fright would be very bad here, especially since there would be too many potentially unfriendly eyes on her. Surely Markess would not be the only creature here who thought badly of humans? She shifted her magical protections a bit, making them look less human, and more like a bubble of the Fae lands. It was one of the tricks that Jareth had shown her, and it might be some help. At the least, it would make her feel a bit safer.
She resisted the urge to cling to Jareth like a drowning cat. Instead, she placed her hand lightly on his arm, fingers rubbing slightly on the velvet of his sleeve. Willow reminded herself that she had to contain her nerves, especially since even human bullies could pick up on such things. She was certain the Fae would also be capable of smelling fear, which meant that she had to do her best not to let any show. And the opportunity to meet so many different beings was... marvelous and fascinating and unsettling, all at once. Especially since if she became Fae, she could end up looking like one of them - or at least a female version, in some cases.
Maybe becoming a part of this world wouldn't be so bad? Maybe it wouldn't be as unsettling as she'd feared? Things didn't seem that different in the ways that mattered, after all. The Fae may have looked different, in some cases very different, but they were still people, with hopes, and dreams, and goals. And ambitions and phobias, and prejudices as well, she reminded herself. Some of the Fae were glaring at her, finding her presence on Jareth's arm aggravating. Maybe they wanted to be on his arm instead, or maybe they felt her to be an intruder, or somehow lesser for her humanity. Being part of the Fae world would not be an end to the challenges of life. It would only change some of them, and extend the amount of time indefinitely. And maybe, becoming Fae would increase her chances for something with Jareth?
There were females of all sorts of Fae flirting with Jareth, some subtly, others almost making blatant offers. One even ran her fingers over the low cut edges of her pink gauze, licking her very pink lips as she leaned closer, offering to 'show him pleasures far more potent than anything that some human girl could offer.'
Had Markess sent this... female after Jareth? Did she mean Willow, or something else? Maybe she should do a little investigating of Jareth's past... Willow looked at the Fae woman in question, her slender figure covered in ivory pale skin and crowned with almost metallic golden hair, falling in ringlets past her hips. She was wrapped in pink gauze, and golden jewelry, and seemed... quite forward. One might even say trampy...
Jareth simply looked at her, his eyes cold and hard. "Krellmone, I am not seeking advice on my sexual partners or habits from you. You know nothing of my personal preferences, and you are not going to learn."
The blond, apparently named Krellmone, pulled back, looking as shocked as if he'd slapped her. "What? You'd prefer some human to one of the Fae? I'd hoped the rumors were merely unfounded slander." With a disdainful sniff, she walked away, the almost exagerated sway of her hips capturing the eyes of many people in the area.
Willow could taste anger, and a part of her wondered if the Fae woman would survive having each one of those golden hairs yanked out, every inch of that flawlessly pale skin peeled from her body... And yes, the woman was gorgeous. Except that it felt too perfect, to calculated. Maybe she was a succubus or something? Would that be better or worse than simply a trampy Fae? "An associate of your brother?"
"Simply an ambitious woman who wants to be the consort of a King. Any king." Jareth's voice was rather dry, and he brushed her fingers with his own, as if in reassurance. "Markess prefers more direct courses of action."
They continued circulating, greeting newly arrived guests, and exchanging polite conversation and sometimes careful almost threats with various creatures, many of them the true Fae.
It came when Jareth was offering good wishes for the continued health of a Royal Fae, a striking woman with red-black hair and one shadow black eye and the other an almost painfully bright yellow white. She was gowned in what looked like velvet woven from shadows and blood hued silk, a few gleaming golden accents that looked ancient adding a faint gleam. She felt old, and powerful, and unpredictable, even more than any other Fae Willow had met. Something slithered through the air, and the shimmering colors of fabrics dulled, gems lost their luster, certain bits of gold dulled to brass, and Willow's flock of illusory butterflies dissolved into nothingness.
Illusions had been broken.
Willow wasn't certain if she wanted to look at the wings or not. She was just busy thanking every lucky star, rock, plant and deity, real or fictional that she'd ever heard of that her outfit wasn't made from illusion or held together by magic as was apparently the case with many of the other guests. She opened her eyes, almost seeing a bit of humor in the shocked and appalled expressions on some of the Fae. Hers were not the only illusions broken, and some of the Fae, now wearing a lot less, and in some cases nothing, were looking displeased. Some looked embarrassed, and it was vaguely interesting to discover just how far a Fae could blush. Others looked furious, and Willow felt unexpectedly glad that it was very obvious that she couldn't have been responsible.
"Who would have such a miserable lack of manners and discretion at my son's festivities?" The voice of the Fae woman echoed, rolling through the whole castle like thunder and bells and the growl of an angry cat. She looked furious.
Willow glanced around the edges of what had rapidly become a clearing. Only those who'd been affected remained in the middle, the other Fae pulling away as if afraid. Maybe they were afraid of their own illusions breaking? Of course, it was now clear that everyone was afraid of the Queen Mother's wrath. Her clothing looked a bit more normal now, almost ordinary black velvet and crimson silk, but the power that filled her, flowed over her was... Terrifying. One interesting discovery was one of the Fae towards the edge of the illusionless space. Markess was there, looking unhappy and a bit worried.
Judging from his expression, he might have had something to do with it, but it hadn't been his spell. Catching the Queen would most definitely not have been something that he would have done. Bitter, ambitious, and disliking humans he may have been, but only a fool would deliberately draw the anger of that formidable woman. He didn't appear to recognize Willow at first, but after a moment's blank look at the wings and he looked at her face, a look of surprise on his own.
There was an utter lack of conversation, and Willow had the sudden thought that she could hear the gathered Fae breathing, feel the pulsing of their hearts. The idea that the Fae, each powerful and presumably immortal, were afraid was sobering. Willow glanced over at the Queen, not quite meeting those eyes.
"Should I assume that there is someone objecting to your presence here, mortal?" The Queen's voice was directed toward Willow.
For a moment, Willow's throat was too tight for words, and her head spun from fear. "I... I think it was more because... because I am here with Jareth than because I'm in the Goblin Kingdom. Apparently, they think he could do better."
The Queen's gaze fell entirely on Willow, and the intensity of it was easily tangible, and made Willow's knees feel weak. "Yes, I suppose there would be those who would find that objectionable. But really, there are only two possible outcomes of your association with Jareth. Either as a mortal, you will eventually grow old and die, or he will make you one of the Fae, thus removing the source of their objection. As his kingdom is prospering, my son's diversions or searches for a possible bride should be of nobody's concern."
The presence and words of the Queen - somehow, she couldn't picture anything less than the capitalized version managing to apply to this woman - demanded some sort of response. Willow sank into the most graceful curtsey that she could manage then, feeling awkward and oh so glad not to be meeting the Fae Queen's eyes any longer. "Majesty."
With a rustle of velvet and hiss of silk, the Fae Queen moved away, and Jareth was at her side, hand at her elbow, steadying her. He helped her to her feet, fingers brushing her cheek. "It will be alright, my Willow rose. And since my mother has made it very clear that she does not feel any interference is necessary..."
Still trying to regain her internal balance, Willow smiled weakly. "Her eyes are... like shadow and sunlight all at once."
"Few among even the Fae would be willing to meet her eyes." Markess spoke, lurking near them.
Jareth glared at his brother, almost as if challenging him to do something foolish. "Markess. I do hope the festivities haven't bored you."
"I've been in the blue room. The waterfall was a nice touch." A small, bitter smile crossed his face. "I would rather be bored than have mother in that mood."
Willow blinked, feeling a small smile bloom on her face. Markess liked the water room that she'd created? That felt oddly satisfying, even or perhaps especially since he didn't know that she'd created it. "I don't think anyone would want her Majesty in that mood. Not anyone sane, at least."
Markess looked at her again, and this time, he was really looking at her, as if he was curious about Willow, and not simply seeing a human. "You... would make a good Fae. Far better, I think, than a mortal. But I still don't think mortals have a need to be in the castle."
Jareth chuckled a bit as Markess strode away. "I think he's decided that you aren't too bad. Probably because it isn't very common to find someone able to meet mother's eyes without turning into a quivering mass on the floor."
Willow smiled a little, setting her illusions back into place, the roses and butterflies once more embellishing her gown. "She's... everything some of the older stories paint the Fae to be. Beautiful, ancient, powerful and terrifying. I don't think I could ever be a Fae like that... but I don't really think anyone else in the room could be a Fae quite like her either."
"There is only room in existence for one person like Queen Morrigan, my Willow. But perhaps you could be one of the Fae as well." Jareth's body was almost touching her own, and his words were soft near her ear.
Willow allowed her mind to turn over the possibility. "I think so... but not today. That should be an occasion in itself, not a foot note to tonight."
Jareth's smile was intense, and full of delight and mystery. "An occasion of note, yes. And then, you will be Fae, and there will be no more of that silly talk of returning to Sunnydale. You belong here, now."
"Here, yes." Willow smiled at him, her fingers entwining with his own. "So... is there a chance that I might really end up as a butterfly queen?"
"I certainly intend for you to be a queen, my Willow. But as for the butterfly part... Who can tell?" Jareth smiled.
The rest of the party, thankfully, was much quieter. Socializing, flirting, music... and there was dancing. Willow found herself dancing with Jareth, and Markess, and many other people, some of which she could remember the names of, and others whom she was certain she hadn't been introduced to. Willow found herself thinking of the future with a smile. This would be home.
end Thorns of the Rose.