Underneath the Crystal Moon
a/n: I do not own Labyrinth
Part Three: Eamon
Chapter 2
Rhiannon looked at the male lying on her bed. He was gorgeous, even dirty like he was. What would he look like clean? He was tall, with pale blond hair, just a little darker than her own. The streaks within it were black, and unusual. They were natural too. She had never seen anyone with that kind of hair. When his eyes had been opened she had noticed they were a lovely emerald green. He had high cheekbones and a cute nose. His lips were soft-looking, and a little thin. He was beautiful. He looked like nothing from this world. His clothing was unusual. He looked kind of like a fairy tale pirate. His boots, now standing in a corner, were made of fine black leather. His breeches were brown, and made of a soft material. The shirt he had been wearing was cream colored, and made of a nameless material. It laced up the front, but was unlaced until it showed an expanse of smooth chest. He had been wearing a fur lined cape. The finery had made her laugh. She wondered what he was.
Rhiannon walked out of her house and headed to the area where he had appeared. She did not kid herself by thinking he had come from some ren fair or a theater troop. She stood in that area and concentrated. The slight buzzing in her ear told her the truth of it.
"You can feel the crackling of magic here. You came from somewhere else my friend. Never can fool a witch," Rhiannon said. She headed back inside and walked upstairs. The male, he said his name was Eamon, was still passed out. Rhiannon lit her incense burner and carried it around the room, purifying the space. Then she lit candles and placed them around the bed. Then she sat down on the bed.
"By the Lord and the Lady, the God and the Goddess, I ask for your help in seeking this male's aura so that I may help him in whatever task he has been sent here to do," Rhiannon intoned, and then she closed her eyes. She breathed in and out, clearing her mind. She sunk into herself, achieving a higher consciousness. She saw her own familiar aura, the layers clear and free. She moved her head so that she could see the male's aura. It was black as night until a bright light flashed from his body in a rapid burst. Rhiannon pulled away and opened her eyes in amazement.
"Fuck! He's Fae!"
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Eamon blinked and slowly opened his eyes. There was soft music playing from a box on top of the dresser. The walls of the room were light blue. The bed he was on was white, with blue coverings. It was nighttime, and he saw candles burning in places, along with the lamps. He sat up then, and saw the woman he had met this afternoon sitting in a chair in the corner, reading a thick book. A stack of still more thick books sat next to her. Her hair was down now, and she had it in a thick cable over her shoulder. It was very long. Her eyes were contemplative as she read. But then she looked up and saw he was awake.
"What was your name again, Lady?" Eamon asked her. She let out a laugh.
"I'm no lady. Rhiannon. Rhiannon George. And did you say your name was Eamon?" she asked.
"Yes, Eamon. Williams. Eamon Williams," he said, adopting his mother's maiden name. Rhiannon let out another laugh.
"No it's not. You do not have a last name. Don't lie to me. I know you're Fae. You can't fool a witch," Rhiannon pointed out.
"A witch?" Eamon asked her.
"A witch. Like my mother before me, and my grandmother before her," Rhiannon told him.
"What are you reading?" Eamon asked her.
"Some books my grandmother had that reference the Fae," Rhiannon told him.
"She has books about us?" Eamon asked, curious.
"My grandma has books about everything. Or she did anyways. They all belong to me now," Rhiannon shrugged and went back to reading.
"Why?" Eamon asked.
"She and my grandpa died a few months back. They left me everything they had, including this house," Rhiannon told him.
"I'm sorry," Eamon said.
"I would not expect an immortal to really know what it is like to lose a loved one," Rhiannon pointed out.
"I'm still sorry," Eamon insisted.
"Can you really change form?" Rhiannon asked absently.
"Yes. I can change into an owl, so can my mom and dad," Eamon explained, "Or I could anyways. My magic disappeared when I came here"
"Ah, about that. How did you get here, and why did you come here?" Rhiannon asked.
"I do not know, but I do not think I know why," Eamon told her, "I was in the Ice Kingdom, avoiding Princess Celinda, when I came upon a statue on a funny looking fellow with feet and hands like a bird, but he had bells at the ends of his hairs. He wore a mask like a performer. I stood in front of him, complaining about life in general and wished to see my mother's old house and the Aboveground where she grew up, and then I was here," Eamon explained.
"You gave me the name Williams, was that your mother's maiden name?" Rhiannon asked.
"Yes. Oh, gosh, this is her old house then?" Eamon asked.
"It did belong to the William's family before my grandparents bought it. Wait, how did your mother end up, well, wherever you live?" Rhiannon asked, setting the book down finally.
Eamon related his mother's story to Rhiannon, pointing out his mother had been a successful playwright before she disappeared. He told her of the prophecy and of his mother's transformation. He told her of all his siblings, including little Ophelia. He told her of his cousin Persephone. He told her of how a year ago his brother had wed the Queen of the Trees and they had a daughter named Xbel. He told her how his sister, Phoenix, had married only six months ago, and had twin sons named Sebastian and Lorn only a month ago. His family was huge, and Rhiannon envied him a little. She had been an only child, and everyone in her family was dead. She related to him that she had never known her father, and her mother died when she was three. She had been raised by her grandparents. They were both dead now. She had been raised a witch. And she lived as a witch. Her grandparents had been very wealthy, and she did not need to work, so she spent her days working with the earth and sometimes she went away to her cabin. She had lost track of everyone he had mentioned by now, but she was sure the subject would come up again.
"Which of these rooms has a tree directly out the window?" Eamon asked.
"The bedroom down the hall," Rhiannon told him.
"That would have been my mother's room," Eamon sighed. He could hardly believe he was in the place that had once been his mother's home.
"Tomorrow we will begin trying to find out what happened to you. How about we find you something more mortal to wear, and then we will go down and I will order pizza," Rhiannon suggested.
"My mother had pizza when she lived here. I remember. I would like to try it," Eamon said as he got up.
"Just wait until you have soda," Rhiannon sighed dramatically.
"What's soda?"
"I'll explain later"
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Eamon awoke the next morning in a smaller bed. The bedroom had been his mother's. Rhiannon had made it up for him. He had slept naked, being used to it. He noticed that all his clothing was gone, so he wrapped the sheet around his waist and walked out into the hallway.
"Rhiannon?" Eamon called. He heard a rustle, and then the master bedroom door opened. Rhiannon stepped out, wearing only a short white robe made of terrycloth. Her long legs were bare. Her long hair was bound in a braid.
"What?" she croaked out. Damn! He had looked good in those clothes yesterday, but now he looked downright stunning, his chest bare, and the sheet being held low on his slim hips. His hair was wild from sleep, and his eyes looked sleepy.
"Shower, and clothes?" he asked.
"Oh, the shower is that door on your right. Towels are in the cupboard. I will bring some clothes to you and set them inside the bathroom," Rhiannon told him, "Just leave the door unlocked"
Eamon nodded and went inside the bathroom. Rhiannon nearly dropped to her knees.
Eamon stepped into the warm shower and nearly moaned at how good it felt. The warm water pelted his skin, and he momentarily could stop thinking of the witch he was currently living with.
Rhiannon opened the door, and the shower curtain was pulled tight. She could hear signs of hair being washed.
"Eamon? Here are some more clothes for you," Rhiannon said, and she quickly retreated.
She was just buttering two blueberry muffins when Eamon came downstairs. She nearly dropped the knife. Her grandfather's jeans were slightly too big, but the white t-shirt fit him well. He had pulled back his pale blond hair, exposing his slender neck, and slightly pointed ears.
"What?" Eamon asked her, "Did I not do it right? I was sure I did"
"Eamon, I have no qualms about saying you are definitely the most gorgeous male I have ever seen," Rhiannon said.
"I am? Huh. I knew I was good looking. I look just like my dad, except I have my mom's eyes," Eamon told her. He sat down at the table and took the mug of coffee and the muffin.
Rhiannon sat down and wondered how long this male was going to be here. Much longer, and she did not know what she was going to do. As a witch, she believed her body and what she can do with it is something to be celebrated. She was not ashamed of the way she felt. Expressing herself that way would be completely normal, and a welcome distraction. For now she sighed, and ate the warm muffin.