(AN) Author's Notes: Hello, everyone and a very late belated happy New Year 2024 to you all how have you been?
I apologize for my long inactive absence. Since the end of last year, I've had many curve balls in my life that have kept me from updating this story as I used to do each month.
BTW: Another thing I forgot to mention since it's been a while since my last update is the little fairy that was introduced at the beginning or near the beginning of the 1986 Labyrinth movie the one that was sprayed down by Haggle with me and my co-partner have decided to come up with a name for her the name is Dellacora (Della) somewhat a peter pan Tinkerbelle fairy companion that Sarah made in the last chapter or two when she was introduced I'm sure a lot of readers who've been rereading over the last update I made are familiar with whom I speak with of this small insignificant character from the movie.
Both chapters sixteen and seventeen are two-part special chapters. They're the beginning and highlight of the introduction to my three original characters that will from now on be making an appearance for the rest of the story. These original three characters I've created are crucial for the storyline and the timing for them to be introduced was just right. I have a feeling there might be some readers that might like or dislike these original characters I've created but give them time for their personalities and characters to develop more will be exposed about them when they interact more with at least Sarah Williams in the story.
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All copyright rights to Labyrinth 1986 musical fantasy film directed/created by Jim Henson, Dennis Lee with George Lucas as executive producer. Based on conceptual designs by Brian Froud, the film was written by Terry Jones. I also need to give credit and thanks to my new co-partner ElauraGrave who is helping me get this story off the ground so soon.
Original characters AKA (OC's) Aveline, Zayn, and Placidus are to me the authoress smcandy. I don't want to see anyone rip off/steal or take any of my original characters without my exclusive permission otherwise there will be consequences and hell to pay!
Chapter 16: Fairy's Fayre.
Sarah hummed in pleasure. Gnarled yet gentle fingers combed through her hair. The darkness behind her closed eyelids felt as soothing as the tingles across her scalp, giving her a moment's peace as the gentle pulls through her tresses calmed her nervous mind.
It was the evening of the ball. Sarah's corset was already cinched snugly around her waist. Greta now fastened roses in her hair, their blooms a deep red that matched the ball gown flowing around her like water. But, Sarah was too preoccupied with her predicament to care about a dress that would've made her younger self squeal in glee. Hoggle's words replayed over and over in her head while butterflies in her stomach pounded their wings like thunder. The upcoming escape attempt would be risky, there was no doubt about it, but that wasn't what worried her so; if caught, this would be her only chance. If caught, Jareth would never, ever let her go. She'd be locked up so tight she'd be lucky to see the light of day. The punishment she could take, the anger she could take, but the imprisonment… The confinement, the captivity, that would destroy her.
"Technically I'm already imprisoned…" Sarah thought to herself. But Jareth wasn't a man to be fooled twice. After she ran the Labyrinth, he'd changed his tactics to get her back this time. If he caught her trying to escape, he'd change his tactics again. Maybe he'd be lenient and confine her to the castle. Or maybe, he'd lock her in the dungeon permanently. Maybe he'd confine her to his bedchamber…
"Miss!" Greta shouted. "Hello, are you there?"
"Huh?" said Sarah, snapping out of her stupor.
"I just said you're finished, s'all," said Greta.
"Oh, thanks." Sarah stood, almost floating away as if she were in a dream. She went to the full-length mirror and gasped; she looked good. If you ignored her supple cheeks and the youthful, soft line of her jaw, a woman stared back at her. Her black hair was in stark contrast to the deeper shade of coral red bodice that fit her curves like a glove. A large lighter shame of a coral pink bow bustled behind her, its oversized ribbons flowing halfway down her legs. The rose motif was strong; the detached sleeves were topped by roses that wound around her arms below the shoulder. Two ribbons of roses draped down the front of her skirt. But Sarah's mind was already on Jareth again; she looked the part of a royal who fit in at court. Should she play the part as well? No, no she couldn't. She couldn't stoop to his level, give him what he desired. Then again…becoming more pliable might make him ease up. Back off. Then again, Sarah thought, now thinking in circles, if she changed her character it might make him suspicious. The dizzying possibilities and contradictions made her image in the mirror waver. Her hand wandered up to her shoulder and picked absentmindedly at the double straps that adorned each side. She had to go along with Jareth's game, but she couldn't change her mood, she couldn't change her way. She still had to fight back, but not enough that he would get in her way.
"Horrible fellow…" she muttered under her breath.
"You look beautiful, m'lady," said Greta from behind her. Sarah glanced back to see the squat goblin with kind eyes holding her apron in a bunch. Sarah smiled.
The fairy Sarah had brought into the castle, Dellacora, fluttered up to Greta's side to admire her. Then the little, glowing orb Jareth had gifted her floated up next to Della—apparently too close for the fairy's taste. She shoved the little ball away, chattering as she did. The ball pushed her back. Della buzzed erratically for a moment and pushed the ball again before crossing her arms and pouting, gently flying to Greta's other side as she did. The ball remained where it was and whirred innocently, as if pretending it hadn't done anything.
Sarah giggled. "Thank you, Greta. Choosing beautiful material doesn't guarantee a beautiful dress, but that old chest never ceases to amaze me." Sarah turned back to the mirror to admire the dress once more.
"The King will be pleased," said Greta. Sarah watched her own smile melt away from the looking glass before her. "Seeing his royal escort dressed right proper and so elegantly will put a smile upon that face o' his."
"I'm only going because I have no choice," Sarah said flatly. "If I don't go with him now, I'll never get a chance to see the other kingdoms. I may never even get a chance to leave the Goblin City."
"Miss, his majesty only has your best interests at heart."
"I'm a captive," said Sarah, her voice jagged with bitter edges. "No matter how you dress it up, no matter how you dress me up, I'm still a captive here. Fancy balls and elegant dinners, it's imprisonment no matter how fine a ribbon you wrap it in."
What Sarah didn't say was, she secretly hoped she could still have a good time.
"I've heard these balls are elaborate and beautiful, like something from a dream. I myself have never been, but the Fae nobles and their majesties make them a right spectacle. Finery upon finery, gilded and shining. I suppose the Aboveground doesn't have anything like these parties, but you have to beware…things aren't always what they seem in these places."
Greta's words tickled a memory in the recesses of Sarah's mind.
"How so?" asked Sarah.
"Well, m'lady," Greta stammered, worrying her apron between her weathered hands, "just…be careful. If you get too lost in the festivities you could, well, get lost." Sarah raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "I just mean maybe you should avoid those other monarchs, those two men what rule the other kingdoms. The king doesn't have the best of relationship with the Witch King nor the Lord of the North—not that it's his fault! They take everything he does, every good thing he does, and twist it into something preposterous. They'd brew war just to sit back and sip the tea of chaos, mark my words."
Greta dropped her apron with shaking hands and tucked a graying strand behind her ear.
"I'm sure it won't come to that now," Sarah reassured her goblin friend. "I know my reappearance here has created quite the stir. My presence has sparked some curiosity, that's all. Nothing wrong with that. I won't stand by and let a war break out just because the king forced me to come back. If they have a problem with me being here, a problem which I'm sure his majesty knew about, then he brought this on himself. He should've been honest with me."
"Oh dear, you shouldn't say such things about his majesty. The king knows what he's doing. He would never go as far as to provoke war. He's the king for a reason and he protects his kingdom."
"Maybe that's true," said Sarah, annoyed that Greta would defend a rogue like Jareth, "but I wouldn't put it past him to be careless—even if unintentionally so. My presence here is still his fault, regardless of the outcome. If my arrival is going to start some sort of political uproar, he should've warned me before I came here." Sarah crossed her arms. "The last thing I want to see is the Labyrinth and my friends get in a stupid war all because a human popped back into their world," she added silently, not wanting to verbalize any sort of sympathy when she was intent on blaming the Goblin King. Greta began to shuffle around and tidy up the makeup and hair-care products.
"Besides, it'd be outright ridiculous to start a war. There's usually never a good reason for any war. If I run into those two, I'm sure I can convince them no funny business is going on in the court of the Labyrinth, and that peace is the best option. Nothing needs change on my account."
"I'm telling you, miss, keep away from those brigands. Nothing good will come of it. Their shady magic won them bad reputations for a reason. Best stick to the king's arm." Sarah gulped as she remembered the king's warnings; were those two really so bad?
"Why do you defend him so?" asked Sarah.
"Well, he's our king, in't he?" the goblin shrugged. "He's done a lot of good in our land. Despite his attitude and hard shell, he's protected our home. I ain't never been to no other realm, and I ain't never seen other Fae what can do magic, but I know our king is the best. 'E's the strongest in all the lands, he is, and the goblins love him for it. I've heard the rumors; goblins aren't appreciated in other lands like they is here. That's why this place is home—not that I care about going and living in some other land. We're just as capable of great things here as we would be anywhere else. And here, we've got a chance of doing something, something…" Greta turned from Sarah and her eyes glazed over with a far-off look. "…something grand."
Sarah's brow knitted in sympathy; there was probably some truth to what the middle-aged goblin said. In a moment of pity, Sarah wondered if she should just let it go. But, she remembered her mission.
"Greta, I'm sure the other kingdoms aren't as harsh on you and your people as you think. There's no reason they should have any prejudices against goblins. Whatever the truth, I know if I can just speak to the other monarchs I can convince them that you, goblins, and even the Goblin King aren't as bad as they think."
Sarah felt a rumbling in her chest before she even heard the magically amplified voice.
"My, don't you look fetching." Jareth's voice purred in her ears and quaked through her very being before Sarah felt a light gust of wind from behind. Dellacora and the ball flew off to some corner to hide. Sarah turned to find a very questionable Goblin King. Enveloped in a robe of midnight black, Jareth stood tall and glittering. The shroud wrapped his entire body, stifling his usual flamboyant ensemble. The sparkle of the cape reminded Sarah of the Labyrinth's own nighttime sky as it shimmered darkly. Sarah's admiration of the cloak was interrupted as her nose wrinkled in confusion; the king had the hood drawn closely around his face. You could hardly make out his features behind the edges of the deep hood.
Greta rose from her curtsy and clapped her hands together in satisfaction, looking back and forth between the two tall humanoids. Jareth wordlessly extended a hand towards Sarah, which she reluctantly took, but she didn't bother to give him the satisfaction of conversation. The couple strode silently to the door, which made Greta's pleased smile pull taught as she took a nervous gulp. Upon opening the door, the Goblin King transported them to the front of the castle when they crossed the threshold.
Sarah expected to see a carriage of some sort waiting for them, but the courtyard lay bare aside from a single guard standing watch. She remembered when Hoggle regaled her of the grotesque palanquin, and hoped they would make their journey in a much less creepy and much more comfortable manner. A blush washed over her as she realized her hand was still enclosed in Jareth's own. She tried to inconspicuously slip it out of his grasp, but he held on tighter. As if to prove a point, he summoned a crystal with his other hand. When the sleeve of his cloak slipped back while he spun the crystal, Sarah noticed a close-tailored black sleeve. It wasn't like him to wear so little colour, and it certainly wasn't like him to wear—comparatively—plain clothes, although the cloak itself was certainly imposing. Perhaps the funereal air was a statement to the other monarchs? Or perhaps he wished to appear subdued and unnoticeable.
Sarah's questioning mind was again distracted as he suddenly threw the crystal to the ground. It began to spin and enlarge; Sarah took an instinctive step back. Jareth tugged at her hand, throwing her a glance that beckoned her to stay at his side. His eyes were not threatening nor harsh, but determined and focused, as if he had his own goal to achieve that evening.
The crystal grew and grew until it began to take the form of a carriage. Images of an animated pumpkin transforming into Cinderella's carriage filled Sarah's mind, and a small, nostalgic smile tugged at her lips. Unlike Cinderella's shimmering white carriage, the coach before them was entirely transparent. The small crystal had hardly transformed, but rather grown into an enormous see-through orb on wheels. The benches inside appeared plain with thin, black cushions on them; Sarah thought this was an uncharacteristic way for Jareth to travel.
"How strange," thought Sarah. The crystal element of Jareth's magic permeated his life and the Labyrinth, but this seemed a whole new level of extreme.
Sarah looked expectantly back at Jareth; something was missing. There were no coachmen or footmen or even steeds to pull the carriage. How was it going to move? Despite this lack, Jareth ushered her into the coach and followed immediately behind, promptly seating himself next to her.
The sudden warmth of his leg against hers sent a jolt like lightning coursing through her body. Her eyes dropped to the black-clad thigh pressing so brazenly against her own. Static electricity crackled over her skin, despite the barrier of clothes between them.
She jumped across the carriage to the other seat.
"What?" asked Jareth, spreading his legs and leaning back in an exaggerated display of repose. "Too cozy for you?"
Before Sarah could retort, the door of the carriage slammed itself shut. The carriage lurched forward, causing the backward-facing Sarah to plunge forward. She reached her hands out to catch herself, landing her palms on each of Jareth's knees. A sharp gasp whipped the back of her throat and her head snapped up to meet the king's gaze. His face was alight with a devilish smirk and sparkling eyes. Sarah tore her hands away from him and tucked them in her lap. The king just chuckled and looked outside, sure to spread his legs even wider. Sarah scoffed and looked in the opposite direction.
It was then she noticed the inside of the carriage was not transparent, nor did it appear to be made of crystal. The black walls around them were inlaid with crystal details like stars. Some orbous like Jareth's own crystal balls, some cut like gemstones that refracted light in delicate glints of rainbow. The benches were fully upholstered in cabernet material and thick cushions that shimmered even in the dim light. When Sarah looked up, strings of crystals hung from the ceiling; the movement of the carriage swung them back and forth, giving the illusion of shooting stars.
It struck Sarah once more that neither driver nor steed pulled the carriage.
"Magic," Sarah shuddered. Still, she couldn't help but still feel awestruck.
"Scared, my dear?" asked Jareth, noticing her ever-critical expression. "Worried that the lack of horses mean we'll lose control, 'oh no we might crash,' that you'll fall out and be without my heroic presence?"
Sarah rolled her eyes. "No—but I am suspicious. This is certainly not a form of transport I ever expected."
"You should know by now to expect the unexpected with me, dearest." The king blew her a kiss with his black-gloved hand. Sarah scoffed. "This isn't one of your little fairytales. There's no horse-drawn carriage with footmen at your every beck and call. Nor a prince on your arm, nor a knight to save you. There's just me."
He gazed down his Grecian nose with fire in his eyes, his teeth bright and bared as his lips curled back in a grin. The look turned Sarah's blood cold, and his handsome, ethereal features trapped her in that mesmerizing gaze. Sarah gulped and snapped herself out of it.
"What's with the cloak?" she asked, her voice quivering yet volume loud and clear. "I can barely see your face. I can't even see what you're wearing under there. You're usually much more…"
"Refined?" asked the king with a cocked eyebrow.
"I was going to say flamboyant."
"Ha!" the king laughed and threw his head back. "Perhaps true. But I have my reasons, and you don't need to worry; I'm well dressed for such an occasion as this. I will compliment the beauty you so nobly grace us with."
"I didn't have a choice, so your flattery is moot. Are you satisfied? Do I honor your choice of attire, my liege?" she sneered.
The king eyed her up and down, his eyes grazing along her body.
"Most certainly. I am very pleased."
The sensual purr of his voice brought a blush to Sarah's face, which she fought to no avail.
Sarah turned to look outside and gasped. The ground had given way to a carpet of stars; they were flying. Sarah leaned against the door and stared out its window with a gaping smile, her eyes shining as flashes of starlight passed before them. Far off glowed the crystal moon, now level with her eyes. Its beams played between the stars and bounced off the carriage.
Sarah yelped; a shadow passed before the window. Sarah instinctively moved away, but immediately leaned forward to see what had flown by. It was then she noticed they were not alone.
Dozens of carriages soared through the sky. Some below and some alongside, some bulky and ornate and some sleek and aerodynamic, some glittering like the stars and some matte against the clouds.
Jareth's voice brought Sarah's mind back inside the carriage.
"If you lean any harder, you're going to pop the window from its frame and fall. And I'd hate to have to rescue you in front of everyone." Sarah quickly sat back, her lip protruding in a flustered pout.
"Want anything to drink?" Jareth asked. A goblet had appeared in his previously empty hand. He took a long, exaggerated draught. "It will be some time before we arrive."
"No, thank you, I'm quite content," she replied, crossing her arms over one another. Sarah was suspicious before that the king might enchant her food or drink, but now she was certain. He wanted her obedient for the ball, who knew how far he would go?
Sarah passed the rest of the ride in silence, despite the king's penetrating gaze. She had nearly dozed off when her stomach did a flip; they were descending.
"We're here," said Jareth. Sarah looked out the window to see the ground quickly approaching. She hoped the magical carriage could stick the landing. Afraid of the descent yet enchanted by the glittering castle below, Sarah remained at the window. Where the goblin castle was twisted and contorted, the spires of this palatial castle were smooth and straight. Each tower rose towards the sky like stalagmites of ice, pointed and unmarred. The rosy, alabaster walls glittered in the starlight.
After a surprisingly gentle bump, the carriage leveled out; they had landed. The carriage rolled up to a large, open gate, out of which spilled golden rays of light. Sarah quickly took note of the landscape surrounding the courtyard, should she need to make her escape. What had the road leading up to the castle looked like? Had she noticed civilization nearby? She wished she had paid more attention.
Her questions remained unanswered as the carriage came to a halt. The door magically swung itself open. Jareth extended his hand out of his cloak in a gesture that would've been gentlemanly under different circumstances. Sarah's mouth was pulled in a grim line; she reluctantly took his hand once more. Her fingers brushed his gloved palm, and he stepped out of the carriage before escorting her out on her own.
The castle rose up to the sky like beams of light wishing to join the bright stars above. Sarah couldn't help by gawk up at the splendor of the palace against the night sky. The Goblin Keep was large—this castle was huge.
The little hairs on Sarah's neck stood on end; they were not alone. Other couples were making their way into the castle. Each pair whispered as they walked by, the ladies opening their fans and raising them to cover their gossiping mouths. Sarah became acutely aware of Jareth's fingers wrapped firmly around her hand as he pulled her towards the palace. Sarah scurried forward; she would walk side by side, not lag behind like a dog led on a leash.
They passed through the mammoth front doors, and Sarah noticed all eyes fixated on them. The unending whispers continued to shiver down her spine as the waves of chatter crashed around her like a tumultuous sea. Fans fluttered delicately before the coarse words Sarah was sure passed through the flapping maws of the Fae gentry. Let them talk; Sarah held her chin high.
The shallow yet wide entry room was far more glamorous than any receiving room need be. Golden wall-sconces held orbs of warm light. Rosegold ridges on creamy wainscoting panels added yet another touch of glamour to the already opulent room. Mother-of-Pearl mosaics decorated the walls in elegant patterns, and the marble floor seemed in motion as it swirled underneath them in tan and pewter swirls. Jareth ushered her onward, his gaze stony and focused on whatever lie ahead. The next chamber caused Sarah's knees to go weak.
They mercifully came to a halt as Sarah tilted her head back in awe. What appeared at a first glance to be a stained glass ceiling was actually an enchantment. The stars outside looked as if they lay just beyond the glass and its hues of blue and purple. Shooting stars zipped between panels, skipping around ignorant of which panels were adjacent. Some stars sparkled like glitter, while others shimmered in foggy halos of light. But what was by far the most impressive wonder above were the constellations. Groups of stars formed beautiful men and women, each with an instrument in hand. Some sat with a cello between their knees, while others swayed back and forth as they drew bows across violins and violas. Sarah spotted a harpist and a few natural trumpets, their long horns extending into the magic night sky like beams of gold. The planetary orchestra's music was sweet yet seductive, lulling yet erotic; Sarah had never heard such a sound, it was like heaven and hell both called her to dance, called her to dream and lose herself in the party unfolding around her.
Sarah tried to shake the sound from her ears and return to the ground, but below on the dance floor, the scene was just as dazzling. The colour palette of the receiving room continued here, with its marble and rosegold and mother-of-pearl, but the addition of baby blue flowers and Rococo portraits elevated the space to one meant for living, breathing people; a space meant to keep its occupants and save them from the constraints of time. For a moment, Sarah wanted to stay a while and lose herself in the twirling couples and laughing guests. It was like she had hopped into her VHS of Cinderella, only this ball wouldn't end at midnight—and the overwhelming presence of gold details harkened to a time before even Cinderella danced a waltz.
"Stay close," Jareth murmured. Sarah gulped. His hand travelled from her fingers to the small of her back, and he took her for a turn around the room. They weren't dancing, but neither were they standing nor walking; Jareth kept time with the music, and Sarah fell into step. Jareth was looking for something—or someone. His gaze was focused like eagle's eyes upon the partygoers. Sarah stood up straight as they completed their first lap around the ballroom. She was glad she didn't have to make conversation with him, but his unwavering gaze left her unsettled. Heads would nod as they passed. Some folded into full bows. No one addressed the king outright, but it was impossible to think he went unseen; the crowds parted like the Red Sea.
Their second turn proved less impactful, as the crowds closed in around them. Ruffles and bodices inched ever closer. Smirks and winks met her at every turn. Was that a buffet over there? Who just caught the corner of her eye? Did a man just blow her a kiss?
Jareth was gone.
Sarah's heart leapt into her throat, but she triumphed at the separation. "My, I didn't even need to try and lose him in this place." Despite her nerves, she was relieved to be on her own. She would not let him control her tonight, and tucked his warnings into the back of her mind.
Unfortunately, the castle denizens noticed her separation as well. They closed in like a swarm of wasps to fallen fruit.
"My Lady, what an honor to have you here tonight," said a golden-haired man. He took her hand, which she hadn't offered, and raised it to his lips. Three women crowded behind him, peering around his shoulders to see her reaction. Before Sarah could even respond, he pulled her off to a corner.
"You must meet the Queen of Cups, Mizumi."
"Yes,"
"Oh certainly!"
"An introduction most needed."
The surrounding denizens chimed in. The crowd around them had grown and blocked out any sight of the rest of the ballroom. Even if she wanted to remain with Jareth, she couldn't. Sarah's heart began to race as they swept her up like driftwood in a river's current; the swarm rushed her forward.
And then stopped. Before her stood the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.
The fae was indeed a queen. Upon her head of long, silvery-white hair sat a large crown visible a mile away. The thick sheet of whitish metal, perhaps white gold or platinum, splashed upward like ocean spray, inlaid with a giant central sapphire ringed with silver. Although surrounded by many other partygoers, each attending fae kept distance between them and the monarch, making her stick out even more, as if her beauty was a force field. The queen tilted her head upward, eyeing Sarah with a welcoming smile, and the gesture caused her hair to glint with hues of light blue in the ballroom light. Her lips were glossed with cerulean, and a droplet-shaped streak of matching light blue extended from her bottom lip down the center of her chin. Sarah wondered if it was a tattoo or some sort of magical birthmark, like Jareth's multicoloured eyes. But, where Jareth's magic was dark and ominous, seductive in an overpowering, subduing way, this queen's magic was like cool water. Sarah felt her breathing slow and her heart still. She was enchanted, she was attracted, but in a way that felt mesmerizing rather than tempting.
"Your majesty," Sarah said, dropping into a curtsey. The queen, Mizumi, raised a silver eyebrow and brought her hand up to her lips.
"How curious…" she thought, drawing a finger with azure polish thoughtfully across her bottom lip. "Ah, you must be the Goblin King's human," she said. The crowd around them snickered; the queen's obvious demeaning comment not unnoticed.
"I came with his majesty the Goblin King, yes," Sarah said, not addressing the slight that had been dealt her. "I was told I must meet you, but I was not told of your beauty, nor of your power." Sarah dropped her chin in a delicate bow.
Mizumi's lips parted, sucking in a shallow gasp. "The mortal is polite. Perhaps even strong," she thought. The queen shook her surprise off. "Ah yes, I suppose Jareth is your only basis of comparison for 'power.' I'm happy to show you what real magic looks like," she said. Mizumi lowered her head and narrowed her eyes. A hair-thin stream of water flowed from her mouth. It hovered in the air for a moment, nothing more but a shimmering thread. Mizumi pursed her lips and blew, blowing the stream forward and dispersing it into minuscule water droplets. The little cloud hit Sarah's lips, cold and cool. Sarah gasped slowly.
"That was beautiful, my queen. Thank you for the demonstration." Sarah smiled, genuinely enchanted by the display of magic. Mizumi's brow twitched, her puzzled expression showing only for a moment before it dropped into her usual cool smirk.
"It was nothing, my dear," Mizumi continued. "You look rather sweet. Did the king dress you up himself? Or did he leave the goblins to it?" Again snickers peppered the air. But Sarah would not let it get to her. Perhaps they were ignorant, but she wouldn't take it personally.
"The king has provided me with a full wardrobe, you are most observant and correct. I'm pleased with the selection." Sarah offered her a smile. Mizumi remained cool, but Sarah thought she saw the corners of her eyes soften. The queen was beautiful, and as mystifying as Jareth had been to her that first night so long ago. Only now Sarah was curious rather than afraid, curious rather than repulsed. Sarah wondered if water-magic was this fae's element, or however they classified their magic. The queen's white silken gown glinted blue in the light. The edges of the sleeves had twists of blue thread embroidered upward, like they were also streams of water flowing around the queen. Perhaps the queen was a water fae or water nymph, an undine or naiad of sorts.
A clatter and commission caught Sarah's attention. She instinctively turned towards the noise, but saw nothing but the hustle and bustle of the ball. When she looked back at the queen, Mizumi was gone. Sarah thought she saw one last flash of aquamarine eyes regarding her with intrigue, but Sarah told herself it was a trick of the light.
Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. She wanted to talk to someone who wasn't the king, preferably someone magical who wasn't the king, especially since she had no clue which of the partygoers were those of the Labyrinth and reporting directly back to Jareth. She looked around; the fae were leering. Lips curled back to show teeth bared in fake smiles like the snarls of hungry predators. Sarah squared her shoulders and pushed on; there would be someone else to talk to, someone worthy of an appeal.
Unbeknownst to Sarah, two sets of eyes followed her around the ballroom. The Witch King and the Lord of the North watched her like snakes in the grass. Their masks disguised their station, but the power they exuded could belong to none other than a monarch of magic. Sarah pressed through the crowd, realizing the room was much bigger than she had anticipated; she had lost Jareth, but now she herself felt lost. Everyone was so tall, and the crowd was so thick, she couldn't place where the door was located. Which way had she come from?
Sarah sucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She was parched and her throat felt dry, but the king had warned her not to accept any drinks—or food—unless presented by him. But, water sounded delectable at the moment… how true could the deceptive king's warnings really be?
A dark cloud floated in front of her path—rather, a dark figure clouded her vision. A tall person, hidden by a mask, stood before her, hip popped out to one side. The black catsuit that adorned the slender figure was cinched in the middle with an underbust corset lined with purple amethysts. Black, platform heels exaggerated their already towering height, and a black cloak lined with royal purple wrapped their shoulders. They were adorned in curiosities; numerous vials hung from a low-riding belt around their narrow hips, and a metal mask obscured their face. Despite the cover of the mask, Sarah could tell this being was beautiful. The soft line of their jaw and feminine lips looked gentle in contrast with the harsh presence they cast. Sarah was not entirely sure if this was a man or a woman who stood before her. The metal mask extended down their cheeks, a small cutout leaving room for the nose. The crown of the mask's brow was adorned with two purple gems, each of which had two sharp spikes, one extending skyward and one extending out to the sides. A single vial of deep, purple liquid hung from a chain round their neck, and the black hair that fell below their shoulders provided an additional curtain to their already mysterious figure. Sarah could not make out their eyes. Some sort of mesh, some sort of pale gray screen obscured their sockets.
Sarah knew it was safer to let her visitor speak first, so she dropped into a low curtsy; she was not afraid, but she was at least wary. Somehow, the dark beauty this person possessed soothed Sarah's nerves.
"Well, it is like the Goblin King to pick such a beautiful human, what with all those ugly goblins running around," sang the figure. Their voice, although certainly male, was high and melodious. Yet their beauty did nothing to assuage the sting their snub had inflicted.
"Hello, my name is Sarah. I believe introductions are in order; I am the Champion of the Labyrinth," Sarah affronted, purposefully choosing her powerful title—a title she had earned.
"That's what I thought," said the man, ringing a memory in her mind like a bell. Hoggle had said that. Coincidence? Or did he know something…?
"I believe I haven't had the pleasure of catching your name and station," Sarah said, hoping they were a simple partygoer without title or station, which would give Sarah a snub of her own and even the playing-field—alas.
"Yes, I would certainly pick someone as beautiful as you if I were to bring a human to the ball." He had said human like a vulgar word. Sarah did not respond, but waited for an introduction, eyes narrowed and gaze piercing. The strange guest before her gave a dramatic sigh. "I am Zayn, the Witch King of Ravens and Crows."
Sarah did not let him continue. "Charmed, I'm sure. So sorry, to have occupied your precious time." Sarah's words bit and she turned sharply from the Witch King. She'd been warned not to offend anybody, but it didn't count if they started it—at least, that's how she justified her manner in her mind. The Witch King appeared in front of her once more, magically stepping out from behind the nearest guest. Sarah stopped short, caught off-guard.
"My lady," he said, his lips pouting and his jaw tense, "it would be my honour to dance with such an esteemed guest this evening."
Sarah turned again, only to find him standing in front of her, closer. Zayn extended a hand to her, his long, manicured fingernails painted purple and peeping out from the tips of black fingerless gloves. "My honour," he said, curt yet somehow still closer to song than speech.
"Of course," said Sarah coolly," but I must meet up with the king; one dance will do."
"Ah yes, the Goblin King," said Zayn, pulling her into a slow dance. His arms enveloped her and the rhythm had them swaying in time like tiny boats on a great ocean. "I have yet to meet him tonight. I hope he's well." His well-wish sounded as empty and cold as the patches behind which his eyes hid.
"He is, thank you," Sarah replied, just as emotionless.
"What with all the trouble he causes, I'm surprised he has so much time to get around, as he's known to do. I'd think frivolities with a human were not a priority of his these days…"
"Regardless of what public opinion thinks of him," Sarah said, steeled against the obvious baiting, "I am his guest here and his guest tonight. The Labyrinth and its citizens are doing just fine, and his majesty has enough time for royal duties and political envoys."
The music came to a cadence and stilled itself for a moment. Sarah pulled away.
"I must be getting off—"
"Champion Sarah, please," he said, catching her hand and giving a forceful tug. "You must grant me another dance."
"I really need to find the—"
"Nonsense! Come now!" The Witch King had already pulled her in and snaked his hand back around her waist, whisking her into a spin before the next phrase of music had even begun.
"Your Highness," Sarah whispered, her limbs as limp as possible in the stranger's arms. "I will not dance with you. I said one dance."
"Ah yes, but what is one dance? A single song or a whole opera? A movement or a symphony? A single moment or a whole evening? And I must take time to get a better look at you; you're quite attractive for a human."
"Is that so? Do you find us all so repulsive?" Sarah growled.
"No, simply a different breed. Your kind can be so mundane. Simple. Homely. And yet you are a Guinevere in a flock of peasants."
"Perhaps you should get to know more humans before you judge us all to be the same!" she said sternly. Her chin turned upward indignantly.
"Oh, I'm not judging! I would never. I'm simply passing along common knowledge," the king countered, feigning innocence.
"You shouldn't believe everything you hear without first experiencing things yourself. A king should be more than a sheep, n'est ce pas?" The Witch King clamped his jaw shut, the slight not lost on him.
"The human race is not perfect. Although flawed, the majority of hearts are good. We may not have magic like the Fae, but do not think for one instance that we are inferior."
Zayn's hands squeezed her almost painfully. The tension between them was as taught as a piano string now. Sarah sighed inwardly; she would not yield, but she would keep the peace. "And," she continued, "like you should not judge us humans, I will not judge you by this first encounter. Despite your breach of etiquette; awfully odd first impression for a magical monarch." Sarah sweetened her tone, yet remained firm. "I must be going now."
Pain shot through her wrist as he suddenly squeezed it tight. She flinched, involuntarily bringing herself closer.
"You're hurting me!" she quietly cried out, still trying to avoid a scene despite the sharp pang under his grip. His other hand now squeezed her waist, his fingers digging into her ribs.
"I thought you were a Champion? Isn't the Champion supposed to be strong?" he whispered malevolently. "Perhaps I was right about you humans…" Her captor was smiling wide; how would she get away? She looked around, no one noticed anything amiss.
"Zayn; I see you've met Sarah."
Jareth was there, appearing out of nowhere, as if he had sensed her distress. The large black cloak was gone, and Sarah now saw why he had kept himself concealed. Her palms grew clammy and she choked on a quiet gasp. He wore the same outfit he had worn the night he kidnapped Toby.
(AN) Author's Notes: It's coming along slowly but what does everyone think so far of my first of three original characters the witch king of the raven and crows Zayn?
And yes before anyone asked in their comments Mizumi (The Queen of Cups) from The Return to Labyrinth had to be also included here. She's another very important character although she's not an original creation of mine I have gone back at least two to three times to reread the manga and I do find her character quite interesting indeed. Since she never originally confronted Sarah Williams despite her extreme jealousy the way she did confront her and Moppet her ablation was no more somewhat civil. It wasn't probably what many Labyrinth fans were expecting when the two sort of were going to face each other but since Mizumi never really faced Sarah in the flesh herself no one can tell or count to a degree that she might have treated Sarah if given the chance to see her face to face.
So to wrap things up stay tuned for part two of this special two-part chapter or chapters enjoy and leave your comments.
TTFN,
smcandy