DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth, Sarah or Jareth….but ohh…what I wouldn't give to own a Jareth of my very own *droooooool*
WARNING: Oh hell…there are no warnings for this chapter….tho next chapter *ahem* is likely to be very lemony….like…WHOA seriously lemony.
No goblins, children or small animals were harmed, tho I think I'm ticking off HisNibs quite a bit. He's a bit narky with me because he thinks I'm making him out to be rather inept with the fairer sex. What can I say…the truth hurts!
Author's Note: HisNibs says I must withhold the lemony goodness of fanservice unless people review. So do me a favor…read and review so the lemony stuff can appear in the next chapter! Thanks! :)
Also, in this chapter you will see the following: Chicuthe – it is the goblin equivalent of 'fuck'. Just to put it in context when you see it. :)
To Love a Man Who Does Not Love Me
A roar echoed from the throne room, sending goblins scurrying for cover in all directions.
"Bob! Squint!" the Goblin King bellowed, storming around the throne room in a fit of rage.
Bob and Squint crept into the room, each trying to push the other toward the throne first.
"Kingy?" squeaked Squint hesitantly, ducking quickly as Jareth swung his boot out to kick the little goblin.
"Don't you 'Kingy' me!" Jareth snapped angrily. "Where is Sarah? I know you know and I order you to tell me!"
Bob shook his head so violently that his colander hat rolled into the pit in the middle of the floor.
"We doan know, Majesty. She ain't been home for days. Not since the party," yelped Bob, ducking yet another kicking attempt of the king.
Jareth threw himself onto the throne, his face a mask of frustration. He had ignored Sarah's order not to watch her with his crystals and had been watching her from the moment that she left the inn. All of that ended a day ago when the crystals started coming up blank. He had called Sir Didymus, Hoggle and Ludo to court and demanded that they tell him where she was, but they either didn't know or weren't willing to tell him – even after threatening to bog them. In the end, he tossed them in separate oubliettes for several hours to see if that would scare them into confessing her location, but they stubbornly maintained that she had not contacted them.
He conjured another crystal and again was met with a haze of green mist where he should see an image of Sarah. Something was blocking her from him. Or someone.
"Blast and damn!" he swore violently, hurling the crystal against the wall where it shattered, the shards fading away to dust in seconds, until it was as if the crystal had never even existed.
Lounging on his throne, he juggled a small stack of crystals, trying to calm down enough to focus on finding her. As long as she had the Goblin Queen's sigil, he should be able to find her anywhere – Above or Below. Yet he couldn't. It was infuriating. He had no way to know if she was safe. Worse yet, he had no way of knowing if she had truly given up on him and was finding solace in the bed of another. The very thought of his Sarah writhing beneath anyone other than him made the rage inside him burn white-hot. Throwing the crystals viciously at Bob and Squint who dove for cover in the pit, Jareth stalked toward the balcony.
He was preparing to take flight, when a small hawk landed on the railing, a scroll of parchment in its beak. Taking the scroll, he waved the hawk away with a growl of frustration. The last thing he needed today was more hassles from his father, unfortunately that was exactly what he now held in his hands.
Jareth,
The annual event is at hand. I have found you a companion for the night since you have yet to secure one of your own. Be there on time at 7pm sharp. NO excuses. Don't make me have to send Puck after you again this year – you know I will.
"Blast! Damn! Chicuthe!" he cursed darkly, while thunder-clouds gathered low over the Goblin City.
Saturday morning Sarah headed to the pub at 9am to help Chelsea prepare the liquor delivery that would go to the manor house for the celebration that night. She was struggling to carry two full boxes of brandy toward the truck, trying to peek around the corner of the boxes as they were too tall for her to see over. As she rounded the corner of the truck, she hit the fender with her knee and went flying.
"Chicuthe!" she shouted as she fell hard on her knee, dropping the boxes. The sound of breaking glass making her curse again. "Chicuthe! Chicuthe! Chicuthe!"
Wiping her hair out of her face, Sarah brushed off her knees and went to stand. She gasped as she saw a strong hand in front of her face. Looking up she blushed furiously at the sight of Lord Lugh, resplendent in a black wool suit, holding out his hand to help her up.
"Chicuthe,"she muttered again under her breath, blushing further as he raised an eyebrow at her, a bemused smirk on his face.
Placing her hand in his, Lord Lugh helped her stand.
"Hmm…interesting choice of words, my dear. If I didn't know better I'd say you were saying some rather unladylike things, but that is not a language I recognize."
Busying herself with picking up the broken bottles, Sarah shrugged vaguely, "Um…yeah…I picked it up down under," she lied. Well, it is sort of true, she reasoned.
The rest of the day flew by. Sarah spent the morning helping Chelsea get last minute deliveries to the manor, then went home to Nana Gunn's to rest and get ready for the celebration. She had just come from the bath and was finishing drying her hair when Nana knocked gently on her door.
"Killean, I have a gift for you," she said, her green eyes shining as she lay a long dress box on Sarah's bed. "I had Mrs. Fitzpatrick make you a clan dress for the celebration tonight. Most others will be flying their family colors and tartans, so it is only right that you wear the colors of the Gunn Clan tonight."
Sarah threw her arms around her grandmother, hugging her tightly. "Thank you Nana. For everything."
Turning to the box, Sarah gently lifted the lid. She folded back the tissue paper and gasped, her fingers lightly caressing the lovely dress inside. Her mother always promised that some day she'd have a chance to wear the plaid, but it took breaking it off with Jareth and running away to Ireland to make it happen. A shame really. She would have rather been on the arm of someone that actually loved her, but at least she had some form of date for tonight – even if he was the Lord of the Manor's son.
He can't be that great if he is still single at his age, she thought with a wry smile.
The dress itself was stunning. The skirt was Victorian in style, complete with a ruched bustle across the back. It was made of delicate silk, the purple, blue and grey of the Gunn tartan making Sarah's skin seem to glow. Attached to the skirt was a deep purple corset top. Nana Gunn came in to help her get into the dress, her gnarled fingers deftly tugging at the laces of the corset until it tightly held Sarah's body in it's silken embrace.
When her make-up was finished, Sarah braided part of her hair before twisting it up in plaited loops and pinning it in place with deep purple jeweled hairclips. She added amethyst earrings and a matching necklace to complete the look. Nana Gunn carefully added the long fly plaid, artfully draping it over Sarah's shoulder, before clipping it at her hip with a large brooch, engraved with the clan crest.
"This brooch was mine, and before that it belonged to my mother and your great-great-great-grandmother, killean. And now, it belongs to you," Nana Gunn said, her eyes bright as she saw her beloved grand-daughter dressed and ready to present to the community.
Draping a black wool wrap around her shoulders, Sarah watched Nana Gunn go to the door to look for their cab. Taking advantage of her grandmother's absence, Sarah tucked her pendant into the front of the corset top, sliding it warmly between her breasts along with the iron key. As much as she wanted to forget the pain of Jareth's betrayal of her trust, she couldn't yet bring herself to part with the sigil, yet didn't want him to be able to find her either.
Giving herself one last look in the mirror, Sarah followed her grandmother out of the little cottage to the black cab that was waiting for them at the front gate.
The Dohmnaill estate was massive, with acres of forests, fields and pastures. As they drove up the long driveway, Sarah was enchanted by the lights of the estate house twinkling in the distance. The long drive was lined with small luminaries, white candles sitting in clear glass globes that cast an ethereal glow along the lane. Close to the manse itself, all of the trees were heavily woven with clear fairy lights that seemed to dance as if real fairies were carrying them. As she got out of the cab, Sarah sighed deeply, enjoying the heady scent of fall that floated on the breeze, a rich mix of wood smoke, peat and pine.
"It is gorgeous," she whispered to Nana Gunn, who patted her hand with a smile.
"Just wait killean…the inside of the manor is even better. It has been in the Dohmnaill family for generations."
Looking at the others who were preparing to enter the manse, Sarah paused. "Nana, we are a bit over-dressed, don't you think?"
Laughing, Nana Gunn took Sarah's hand and pulled her toward the entry, "No killean. If you are going to be keeping company with the Lord's son this evening, it is expected that you dress the part. Even if it is just a casual thing. Besides, how often does an old woman like me get to dress like a fine lady of the manor?"
Sarah had to smile. Her grandmother had dressed with great care for tonight's celebration, pulling out a lovely green wool suit with a ball-length skirt. She confided to Sarah that she had not been to any of the manor celebrations since her husband had died, as to go alone seemed too sad.
When they entered the manse, a silent butler took Sarah's wrap before motioning them toward the great hall, where most guests were milling around. The edge of the hall was lined with tables holding a bountiful array of foods – cold meats, carved roasts, vegetables of all types and table upon table of finger foods and sweets. Weaving through the throngs of locals that stood in small groups around the hall, were white coated waiters bearing trays of ale, cider, wine and even champagne.
Sarah and Nana Gunn were on their way into the hall when Lord Lugh caught up with them.
"My dear Miss Williams," he said, taking her hand and kissing it softly, "I am so pleased you could make it, and flying the clan colors I see."
Sarah blushed and curtseyed. Lord Lugh smiled at her response, his crystal blue eyes twinkling.
"And you Colleen," he drawled, addressing Nana Gunn, "It has been far too long since I have had the honor of your presence at a manor function. If I had known it would take Sarah visiting to make it happen, I should have arranged for her to visit long ago."
Looking at her grandmother, Sarah was surprised to see the elderly woman blush, her green eyes brighter and more vibrant than Sarah had ever seen them.
"You old tease," Nana Gunn chuckled, placing her hand lightly on Lord Lugh's arm.
"Regretfully Sarah, my son is shirking his duties and has not yet arrived. But seeing as your beauty outshines any other woman here tonight, it will be easy enough to find you for introductions when he finally makes an appearance," Lord Lugh explained, his baritone voice caressing Sarah's ears, making her shiver.
Sarah tried to listen to what Lord Lugh was saying, but the melodic timbre of his voice mesmerized her. She wasn't attracted to him. Not really. But there was something so compelling about him.
"Did you hear me, Sarah dear? You look like you are miles away," he asked, his ice blue eyes narrowing in concern.
"Oh no, Lord Lugh," Sarah gasped, feeling her face flush hotly, "I'm terribly sorry, I was distracted by the lovely hall."
Nice cover, girlie. Now let's stop the whole schoolgirl crushing on the manor Lord and get back to mingling and forgetting the glittery jackass. – chided her inner-self.
"That is perfectly alright my dear. As I was saying my son, Brenin, should be along shortly. In the meantime, please make yourself at home," he nodded toward the great hall, before holding his arm out to Nana Gunn, "Colleen my dear, may I show you the gallery? There are a number of new acquisitions that you would not have seen."
Sarah had to smile as Lord Lugh led her grandmother away. Nana Gunn was smiling more and seemed to have a lighter step than Sarah had ever seen. She would swear that Nana Gunn and Lord Lugh had been an item when they were younger.
She made her way through the crowds in the great hall, getting stopped numerous times by the farmers from the bar so they could introduce her to their wives. More than one wife glared rather hatefully at Sarah, until she made clear that she was not a threat. Several then introduced her to their sons, which Sarah found amusing, as the sons were all wearing tatty corduroy pans and flannel shirts – even their farming fathers dressed more appropriately for a manor function.
Stopping a nearby waiter, Sarah grabbed a glass of champagne, sipping it as she wandered the hall. Hearing music in a nearby room, Sarah gravitated that direction. Several of the regulars from the pub were gathered in the corner where someone was playing a piano and Chelsea was playing a mandolin. The duo were playing Irish ballads, while the crowd around them sang. Leaning against the door, Sarah watched for several songs. As each song finished, someone would shout out a new title, the musicians would play and the person who chose the song would sing.
"You … are late Brenin," Lord Lugh grumbled as his son strolled through the door to the study. "I told you to be on time. This is the only manor function I expect you to be present for during the year. As the future Lord of the manor, you should be on time."
"Relax Father, I'm here now. Now if you'll excuse me, I will go grab a pint of ale and do the obligatory mingling where I listen to the farmers discuss the merits of sheep, the mating of sheepdogs and the fun that is ballads about goats," Brenin drawled, his voice edged with sarcasm.
Frowning, Lord Lugh glared at his son with piercing eyes, "You most certainly will not! There is a young woman in the village who is visiting an old friend of mine and I expect you to go out there and be a gentleman. Or else."
Sighing deeply, Brenin rolled his eyes, "As you wish, Father. But as soon as the first guest of the evening leaves, so too will I. I have other things I wish to be doing tonight than entertaining the locals."
Brenin slammed the door of the study as he made his way to the great hall. These functions were boring. Every year the locals had the same discussions about the same topics, with the same results. He would much rather be home tonight, but not showing up for his father's function would be far worse than spending a few hours getting drunk and pretending to be interested in animal husbandry.
With enough alcohol on board, at least the farming discussions could be livable, but it was insufferable that his father was forcing him to entertain some young lady. That is the last thing he wanted to be doing this evening.
"C'mon lass, we've all had a turn. Pick a song and give us a whirl," teased Mr. Cahill, grinning at Sarah.
"Honestly Mr. Cahill, I'm not a good singer and I wouldn't want to torture any of you with my caterwalling," Sarah laughed, her emerald eyes shining bashfully.
"Well, if you won't tell us about your beau, sing us a song about him" suggested Chelsea, a broad grin spreading across her face as she snuggled against her husband's shoulder.
Realizing that she was not going to get out of the music room until she complied, Sarah leaned over the pianist and pointed out her favorite ballad, singing softly as the piano and mandolin played the lilting melody.
I leaned my back against an oak
Thinking it was a trusty tree
But first it bent and then it broke
So did my love prove false to me
Sarah tried to keep it together as she sang, but the pain of losing trust in Jareth was too much for her. As she sang, her hand pressed against her breast, feeling the pendant hidden beneath the silk of the corset, she felt as if it was vibrating in tune with the emotion flooding her.
I reached my finger into some soft bush
Thinking the fairest flower to find
I pricked my finger to the bone
And left the fairest flower behind
With each word her voice grew stronger. Sarah gave up trying to hide the emotion, letting the raw pain suffuse song.
Oh love be handsome and love be kind
Gay as a jewel when first it is new
But love grows old and waxes cold
And fades away like the morning dew
Reaching the great hall, Brenin plucked a pint of ale from a waiter as he made his way into the room. A quick glance at the locals in attendance told him that it was the usual crowd. As he moved further into the room, he heard the gentle voice singing in the music room, clear and lilting upon the evening air. Surely none of the locals could sing like that.
He leaned casually against the open French doors of the music room, watching the girl sing. Her back was to him as she leaned against the piano, her slender neck arched as she poured her heart into the delicate ballad. She is singing this for someone. The old man is always picking up wounded women and trying to heal them. She must be another with a broken heart, he thought cynically.
Must I go bound while you go free
Must I love a man who doesn't love me
Must I be born with so little art
As to love a man who'll break my heart
As the girl sang, Brenin felt his chest ache at the tender melody that spoke of the betrayal and pain of lost love. Although her back was turned, he was sure that her eyes spoke the same, in fact, he would be willing to bet that she had tears in her eyes as she neared the end of the song. The ache in his chest throbbed dully, refusing to be ignored as he listened to her haunting song.
When cockle shells turn silver bells
Then will my love come back to me
When roses bloom in winter's gloom
Then will my love return to me
The last notes of the song were met with loud applause, the crowd moved in on the girl, blocking her from sight as the farmers and their wives pressed upon her. Shrugging, Brenin retreated back to the great hall. The dancing would begin soon, and if his father expected him to dance with the girl, he had better start drinking enough to drown out his own worries first.
Brenin was standing on the outer veranda polishing off his third pint when he heard his father clearing his throat behind him.
"I told you I wouldn't leave until the first guests did, Father. You needn't keep checking up on me."
"Brenin, this is the young lady I was telling you about," said Lord Lugh, presenting Sarah's hand.
"Really Lord Lugh, I hardly need Brenin to spend the evening with me…I'm sure he has other things he'd rather be doing," Sarah protested looking shyly at her feet. She had seen the younger man's posture as they walked up to him and it was screaming that he was not interested in anything his father had to say.
Brenin listened to that voice, the voice of the woman who sang. It was soft and sweet and so familiar. He turned around, seeing her silhouetted in the light pouring onto the veranda from the great hall. Her slender neck, with auburn curls lightly teasing it. Her shapely curves held in the tender caress of silk.
"Brenin…this lovely lady is…" began his father.
"Sarah?" gasped Brenin, his mismatched eyes wide as he stared at her, a vision swathed in tartan and silk.
"Who… " Sarah began, her eyes narrowing. "No…it can't be," she moaned. "Jareth?"
Turning, Sarah fled into the great hall, desperately searching for Nana Gunn. She dodged through the dancers on the floor, a vague sense of déjà vu teasing her. The last time she searched through a ballroom she was looking for Jareth, this time she was trying to get away from him.
Sarah finally found Nana Gunn sitting in a chair near the bandstand, happily sipping a pint of ale, with her feet on a soft poufle. She was clearly having a lovely time as she sang softly along with the song being played.
"Nana, we have to go. Oh please, we must go now," Sarah pleaded, falling to her knees next to her grandmother.
Nana Gunn lightly caressed Sarah's cheek, her faded green eyes frowning in concern.
"What is it killean? Did Lord Lugh's son insult you? Lugh won't stand for that sort of behavior dear one," she began, moving to rise.
"No…no…nothing like that. Oh Nana, we just have to go …I should have never come tonight. Please…."
Sarah looked up into her grandmother's face, only to see her grandmother looking over her head. Groaning, Sarah buried her face in her grandmother's lap.
"Lugh, would you care to explain why my killean is so desperate to leave?" Nana Gunn demanded quietly, her eyes flashing a warning at Lord Lugh.
"Nay, Colleen. I had nothing to do with this. I am afraid my son is to blame," replied Lord Lugh, his voice low and sincere, "I too would like to know what is going on."
Kneeling next to Sarah, Jareth lightly caressed her shoulder as she clutched at her grandmother, "Please Precious, look at me…"
Nana Gunn chuckled, shaking her head as she pried Sarah's hands from her skirt. Sitting her granddaughter up, she rose and touched Lord Lugh's arm. "I think you'd better give me a twirl, my friend and let these two sort themselves out."
"Do you know what is going on here, Colleen?" asked Lord Lugh, his face grim as he took Nana Gunn's hand.
"Aye…and as High King I would've thought you would be more knowledgeable about the courting errors of your young'uns," Nana Gunn replied, her green eyes sparkling mischievously. "Or at least taught them what not to do."
Lord Lugh laughed, his rich baritone a luscious purr of amusement, "You know my true form, Colleen?"
Winking at him, Nana Gunn nodded. "I've known you were no mere male for many a year, but didn't realize your rank until this young'un of yours spoke to my killean. Since she told me her tale of woe…well…even an old woman like me can put the pieces together." Patting his arm tenderly, she sighed, "Besides, did you really think I would forget the one who tempted me greatly with pretty promises and tantalizing kisses."
"Ye Gods…I am sooo not hearing this," groaned Sarah, covering her ears. "My Nana has a crush on the High King."
Hearing Sarah's groan, her grandmother laughed, the sound ringing merrily, "T'was far more than a crush once upon a time killean…but that is a tale for another evening." Turning back to Lord Lugh, she smiled, her eyes shining, "Come my Lord and I'll tell you what I know of your son's miscalculations in dealing with the fairer sex."
As Lord Lugh took Nana Gunn's hand, she turned over her shoulder and addressed Sarah, "Killean… some love is forever. Don't end up like me, yearning for a love long past. Hear him out, my darling girl."
With that, she and Lord Lugh moved seamlessly into the crowd of dancers, Nana Gunn moving without pain for the first time in years, reliving the joy of dancing with the Fae once more.