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Dizzy	By : sisterstyx Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 3924 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrith or any of its characters. The plot, however, is all me. I make no money from this, but can be bribed with feedback.

Chapter List
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As the Crier made the announcement, he took a deep breath in anticipation and turned to face the main doors to the ballroom and saw the royal party standing at the landing, surveying their guests.
"And Lady Sarah of the Aboveground." He was glad he'd taken a preemptive breath because, at the sight of her, he thought he felt all of the oxygen leave the room.
She was sumptuously wrapped in layers of sapphire blue fabric, delicately adorned with flashes of silver brocade and studded with pearls. Her face was partially hidden behind her silver mask, but, even from this distance, his body immediately responded to the sight of her. While his body had already made a clear decision at what it felt at seeing her again, his mind ran through a myriad of emotions and thoughts; joy, disgust, pride, humiliation, and, finally, relief to see her recovered from the state he'd seen her in just a week previously.
He shook himself from these thoughts--he was the Goblin King and she was the defeater of his Labyrinth. She was his enemy, and how he hated her. She had returned--how, he had no idea and why, he no longer cared--and she could do as she pleased. But, as his familiar smirk and haughty posture settled upon him, that didn't mean he had to make it easy on her. He was the Goblin King, and she would do well to remember it!
He slowly began making his way towards her and the High King, watching as she smiled and curtsied to each dignitary she was introduced to by the merry king. Each ruler and noble wanted to meet this strange mortal who, or so they heard, had stumbled upon the Underground quite by accident. But he was oblivious to anything else as he drew nearer and nearer to his target. Her back was to him and a small part of his brain registered her familiar chocolate locks as they cascaded down her back. He denied the itch in his fingers to reach out and touch them and schooled his features into their desired effect: arrogance and power. He took the last few steps and closed the distance between them. He stood behind her and struck an imposing stance as the High King glanced over her shoulder.
"Ah, there you are, my boy! Sarah, this is someone I especially wanted you to meet," she turned to face him, a pretty smile turning the corners of her mouth up. He prepared himself for whatever her reaction might me--he was going to enjoy seeing this. "May I introduce Jareth, the Goblin King." She met his eyes and his heart stopped. "Jareth, this is Lady Sarah."
She curtsied, "I'm pleased you meet you, your majesty." Her eyes lifted to his again and she wore the same smile he'd watched her give everyone else she was introduced to.
He was struck dumb.
He'd been ready for the look of recognition, the angry outburst, the fearful gasp, and haughty indifference--he'd been ready for anything she might have done. Anything but this.
"Jareth?" Alberon looked at the Goblin King, a line of worry creasing his brow. This shook him from his stupor and he bowed deeply to her--so this is how she's going to play it?
"Lady Sarah," although his smirk had faltered for a moment at the complete lack of reaction he'd gotten from her, "I hope the masque is to your liking?" He hadn't missed the similarity of their current situation to the dream he had sent her after biting into a certain drugged peach. He hoped to rile a reaction out of her and briefly entertained the idea of asking her to dance just to see what she would do.
"Indeed, it is quite the loveliest I've ever been to," she replied with such innocent honesty that he felt it like a kick in the gut. He didn't let his haughty smirk falter, however.
"Well, then you must not have been to many balls before," he retorted snidely.
"I couldn't say, your Majesty." She had the gall to look ashamed of the fact. Jareth could feel his blood pressure rising and his brow crease--how dare she continue to so blatantly ignore his hints and play the innocent mortal. He wanted nothing more than to bring out her stubborn temper in front of the High Court and expose herself as the troublemaker she was, but before he could make a witty come-back, Alberon jumped in, sensing the tension.
"Jareth, Lady Sarah is my guest of honor tonight, why not get her a drink and ask her to dance before one of the other eligible young men steal her away. No doubt she'd rather be spinning around the dance floor than keeping an old King entertained." Jareth sighed, yes, getting her alone with him was exactly what he wanted to do. He schooled his features and held out an arm to the beautiful woman who infuriated him constantly.
"My Lady," he said, giving her a pointed look. She, again, seemed to take no notice, but did hesitate slightly before putting her hand on his arm. He hoped the spark of longing that he felt at her touch didn't show on his face. He lead her away from the mingling crowds and noisy dancers, foregoing the glasses of pixie wine sitting on a nearby table, towards a balcony overlooking the capital city of the Underground. He wanted to know what the devil she was doing in his world again and he was determined to get some answers.
____________________________________________________________________

Sarah tried to quiet the fluttering of her heart as she was lead from the ballroom by the strange, attractive young King. She had no idea if his temper was always quick to turn on people he'd just met, but somehow she felt the haughty tilt of his head and the sly grin suited him.
When she'd turned to face him at Alberon's request, her breath had caught in her throat for the briefest of moments at the sheer beauty of him. His hair fell in messy waves from his head, his mismatched eyes sparkled from behind his gruesome mask as though he knew a secret, his creamy skin stood out against the deep red of his elaborate coat and his tight grey breeches seemed to be molded to his lean, muscular legs--at least the parts she could see that weren't ensconced in regal knee-high black boots.
She had been prepared for just another Fae noble, the same as the numerous guests she'd already been introduced to, yet he had seemed to be bating her, trying to elicit some reaction. Why, she had no idea. But, she had a sinking feeling that she may find out soon enough as she realized he was leading her to a secluded balcony, away from the other revelers. Another butterfly started to flit about her stomach at the prospect of being alone with the handsome Fae, but she wasn't given enough time to examine her strange reaction.
"So tell me, Lady Sarah, how you came to be in the Underground?" He said, a smirk on his face, hands on his hips as he rounded on her. She did not miss his tone of voice when he said "lady", but tried to overlook it--the last thing she needed was an angry king making her life more difficult.
"I'm not sure, your Highness." She responded, attempting to keep her voice even.
"Well you certainly weren't wished away--I would know, otherwise."
"And why is that?" She asked, intrigued. He let out a mirthless laugh.
"Is it not my duty to collect wished away children?" He felt a constriction around his heart--she was doing a wonderful job of playing dumb and wounding him in the process.
"And, do I seem like a wished-away child to you?" She felt almost insulted at the idea and her tongue lashed out before she had a chance to think about it.
He suddenly took a step closer to her and his smirk changed from one of distain to one of hunger rapidly. "Well you certainly don't look like a child to me, Sarah."
She was unfamiliar with the mixed feelings of anger and lust she felt for the man before her as she saw him obviously look her up and down. How he could make both reactions rush to the pit of her stomach at the same time, she had no idea, but her anger seemed to be stoked with every word from his mouth.
"What a keen power of observation you posses, Goblin King. Tell me more of myself, for I am dying to know what else you think of me." She fleetingly wanted to know how on earth their brief conversation had escalated so rapidly--she was quite close to him now, and her voice was raised--but she couldn't quell the racing beat of her heart as she looked at him with defiance.
He, on the other hand, lowered his voice as he drew closer to her. The smell of her was driving him insane--he couldn't concentrate on their angry banter "Yes, you are most definitely a grown woman," he couldn't help himself as he, once again, let his eyes roam over her figure in the sumptuous gown. "A very beautiful woman, at that." The rapid rise and fall of her chest against the constrictive bodice of the dress was particularly distracting. He looked up and saw her biting her lip--ah, so he did have some affect on her, at least.
Sarah's mind was starting to swim as her vision was focused solely on the bizarre King. She could almost feel the magic rolling off of him, see it blurring the edges of his figure in the faint candlelight filtering through the open doors. She tried to maintain her anger, but as he inched closer to her, she felt it ebbing away, slipping between her fingers as her mind started to shut off. What was he doing to her?
"Do you say that to all the women of the court?" She half whispered, trying to regain some semblance of control of the situation by calling him a flirt, but she found herself focusing on his lips, aching to see his face without the mask. She suddenly remembered she had her own on and was thankful to whatever coverage it, and the poor lighting, was giving to her flushed cheeks.
"No, Sarah, you are quite special," his head began to tilt lower to hers.
"Am I? How so?" She wanted to know, but she also felt her head begin to tilt up towards his face. He could feel her breath against his face.
"Dance with me," he whispered, his hand resting slightly on her waist, their bodies a hair's breadth apart.
"I--I don't dance," she sighed, as goose-bumps rose along her arms and a chill of longing raced along her spine.
"You dance with me," his lips brushed the curve of her ear, but she didn’t notice.
"I don't dance," she repeated, her voice flat, loosing the breathy tones she'd been reduced to.
He frowned and pulled back enough to look her in the eye. She had a far-away look on her face and her brow wrinkled above the line of her mask. "What?"
"I don't dance." She stated clearly, her eyes meeting with his. "I remembered I don't dance." She said it as though it were some great revelation.
"I don't un--" Jareth began, the spell between them suddenly broken.
Her face split into a huge grin as she interrupted him, "I remembered! Oh thank you!" And suddenly she was kissing him.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Dizzy