Underneath the Crystal Moon
A/n: I do not own Labyrinth. And for those of you who mentally molest my characters, Eamon shower scene in this chapter! And PixieDust05, I did not get your email off your profile, but thanks so much for your flattering review!
Part Three: Eamon
Chapter 8
When Eamon woke up, he found he had a new resolve that had not been there when he had gone to sleep. Or passed out. Whatever. He would find out today what Rhiannon wanted out of him, and they could go back to enjoying the time they had left. He swung his legs off the bed and made his way to the shower. Rhiannon's door was still closed, which meant she was in bed with a killer hangover. He did not have anything to help her here.
The steam filled up the room, and Eamon stepped into the shower with no further invitation. The hot water coursed over his lithe body, covering it in tiny droplets of condensation. Eamon felt more at ease now, less tense as he rubbed the shampoo into his blonde locks. Today might be a good day.
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When Eamon stepped out of the shower he threw on a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt. He padded barefoot down the stairs and saw that Rhiannon was still not up. He made his way back up the stairs and knocked on her door.
"Rhiannon?" he asked, and heard a very muffled response. Laughing softly he said, "I'm coming in"
Eamon opened the door and found that the drapes were closed, and there was a lump in the bed, covered in blankets, with pillows piled on top of what one would assume would be a head. Eamon laughed when the mound groaned in displeasure.
"Go 'way," the mound said.
"Come on, we need to eat and I do not know how to work the oven thing," Eamon said, as he started to remove the pillows. After a few of them, he saw her blond head, all mussed and tangled. Rhiannon pulled the covers over her head, and Eamon yanked them away and off the bed. She was wearing pink sweat shorts and a black tank top. Rhiannon curled up into the fetal position and moaned loudly.
Eamon made his way over to the window and opened the drapes. Rhiannon whimpered in pain. Then Eamon went into her bathroom and turned on the shower.
"Get up, Rhiannon. Just because you are hung over does not mean you get to lay in bed all day," Eamon said sternly.
"Fuck off," Rhiannon snarled. Eamon reasoned that if she could snarl, she could stand up. He forcibly picked her up, ignoring her feeble kicking and groaning. He opened the shower doors and threw her in, fully clothed. She shrieked as the water hit her, still only halfway warmed, "You bastard!"
"No dear, I know who my daddy is," Eamon said sweetly as he went to find her bathrobe.
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Eamon was seated at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea, when Rhiannon stepped delicately down the stairs, aware of every little sound being made. She had changed into a pair of overalls and a white tank top, and she looked like she would rather die than be downstairs. But she was clean, and felt a little better. Eamon poured her a cup of tea and set it down at the table. She sat down delicately, and put her head down on her arms like a recalcitrant schoolchild.
"We need to talk. I ordered pizza, by the way, seeing as it is almost dinner time," Eamon pointed out to her.
"Don't talk so loud. What do we need to talk about?" Rhiannon asked him softly.
"What do you want from me?" Eamon asked the witch. Rhiannon looked briefly up in surprise, and then lowered her head again.
"You are taking advantage of my weakened state you damned Fae," Rhiannon cursed.
"Don't change the subject. Do you remember last night?" Eamon asked her as he sipped.
"Huh?"
"I will take that to mean that you do not remember throwing yourself at me?" Eamon guessed.
Rhiannon groaned, which Eamon took to mean she didn't remember.
"Well, you did. And it got me thinking. Just where are we going with this? We've kissed. We act as if we are a couple. I am obviously very fond of you, and I would think you are fond of me…" Eamon trailed off, distracted by the sight of Rhiannon's head still resting on her arms. He was fooling himself if he thought it stopped at fondness.
Eamon, you love her. You have loved her since you first saw her. You are kidding yourself, and her, to think that it is anything less. Why is this so hard?, Eamon thought to himself while waiting for Rhiannon to speak.
You fool. I don't know when it happened, but I fell in love with you. It probably happened the moment you appeared. It probably happened in a million moments since then. Fond? More than fond. Stupid Fae, Rhiannon thought in the vaults of her mind.
"Rhiannon? We only have so much time together. Should we make the most of it? What do you think?" Eamon asked her gently.
"What are you talking about? Do you mean, should we be together until you leave? What does that entail? Argh, I need to get out of here!" Rhiannon suddenly yelled. Eamon was more than a little shocked at her reaction.
"Does that mean no?" Eamon asked her innocently. She fixed a cold glare on him.
"I would think you could wait a little more before I give an answer. I need to get out of this city. I own a cabin. A small, but nice cabin, up near Oneida Lake. It has a lake view, and a hot tub. We can go there for the next couple of weeks, until we have to come back. It will be quiet. There will be nothing else. If you want to make the best of the time we have together, then let's pack and get out of here," Rhiannon told him as she rose from her chair.
"How long until we leave?" Eamon asked her.
"I have a couple of phone calls to make, and some things to pack for the both of us. We will leave in the morning," Rhiannon told him. She abandoned him and went to the basement. Eamon felt it best to leave her alone. Had he followed her, he would have been privy to a couple of very interesting phone calls.
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Rhiannon dialed an old number she had found written down in the small phone book her grandfather had kept. Her grandfather had been a collector of antiques. A lot of his discoveries were hidden in a warehouse, where no one could get to them. But that was neither here nor there right now. Right now, Rhiannon needed information from Davis, her grandfather's antiquing friend. The phone on the other end rang three times before someone picked it up.
"Yes, Davis Willows please?"
"Hold please"
Rhiannon waited on the line while elevator music played. Then David picked up the phone.
"This is Davis Willows"
Rhiannon sighed in relief, "Mr. Willows, this is Rhiannon George. My grandfather, Seamus ó Maoilriain, was one of your friends," Rhiannon prodded the old man's memory.
"Ah, yes. Seamus spoke of you. His little granddaughter. But then I suppose you are all grown up now," Davis commented.
"I have a question for you, if you are willing to answer it," Rhiannon said.
"Please, Miss George, I am at your disposal," Davis assured her.
"Have you heard of the 'Kenedril Iest Elei'?" Rhiannon asked him.
"'The Mirror of the Wishing Dream' eh?" Davis asked.
"The very same," Rhiannon told him.
"Well, it was real at one time. I tend to believe it might still exist," Davis told Rhiannon. Her heart jumped at the thought.
"You don't say?" Rhiannon feigned astonishment.
"Yeah, I remember hearing something of a German Count named Heinrich possessing it. It has supposedly been in his family for generations now. No one has seen it. It is said that his great great grandfather could not get the mirror to work, so he stored it away, and only the current heir knows the location. It would be a princely sum to try to obtain it," Davis pointed out.
"Find out for me. If he has it, where he has it, and how much he wants for it," Rhiannon told him.
"Miss George, we are speaking of-" Davis was cut off.
"I know what we are speaking of. Right now, I would give my life for that mirror. I am going to be gone for two weeks. When I come back, I expect you to have that information. You will be compensated I assure you," Rhiannon told the flustered antique dealer.
"Done and done Miss George," Davis said as he hung up the phone.
Rhiannon could have danced for joy. She pirouetted as she made another call, her hangover forgotten.
"This is Keito Takahashi, how may I help you?"
"Konnichiwa. Toire wa doko desu ka?" Rhiannon said, hoping she had said the right thing.
"Rhiannon, hi! Well, this time you got the 'hello' right, but then you asked me, 'Where is the toilet?'" the soft voice on the other end of the phone said.
"Damn and double damn!" Rhiannon cursed, "I swear I will get it right someday!"
"I speak English too, you baka. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Keito asked her old friend, and client.
"I need to know how much I am worth in every single way, and how wealthy I would be if I cashed everything in, including selling the cabin and the house," Rhiannon dropped a bomb on her financial adviser and stockbroker.
"Why?" Keito asked.
"I may be acquiring something very expensive, and I want to know exactly where I stand," Rhiannon explained.
"It must be very expensive indeed. I will need some time," Keito explained.
"I am going away for two weeks starting tomorrow morning. I need to know by morning, it is important," Rhiannon pleaded.
"I can find out by then. Who needs sleep anyways?" Keito exaggerated.
"Knew I could count on you. Tomorrow morning then?"
"Tomorrow morning Rhiannon"
Rhiannon hung up the phone and sat down in a comfy chair. All the books she would bring with her were already stacked in a pile from the other day.
If she was right, it would take everything show owned to acquire the key to getting to the Underground. She only had one desire now, and that was to be with Eamon. For good or for ill, she wanted to go Underground with him. She did not care how long it took, but he would not leave her here, not when she had just found him.