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Shattered	By : TarnishedArmour Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 7713 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Based upon the work of Jim Henson; specifically Labyrinth, copyright 1986 by Jim Henson & associated parties. I do not own or have legal rights to Labyrinth, etc., or make any profit from them. *Individual disclaimers for other works in

Chapter List
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READ THIS A/N BEFORE YOU CONTINUE! This is probably the most disturbing chapter I have ever written. A lot of what happens is implied, but it's still…even more twisted than my most twisted stuff in this fic so far. In fact, it is so twisted, I almost didn't keep it. But…it's also kinda funny, in a sick, sick way. It's like watching an episode of The Twilight Zone while you're so tired you can't think and the writers were on a bad trip, so instead of being freaky and thought-provoking, it's just…f*cked up. In case you don't believe me, keep in mind that I just warned you.
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Sarah sat with the elven women, called elvenflowers, in their wood, wondering how on earth she was supposed to become part of elven society. Finally, after three weeks of living among them and not getting any sort of information, she asked what she had to do to become as one of the elvenblood.
As the lady told her, Sarah's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.
***
Karen picked up the little volume on elves and requested the correct section. The book obligingly opened to the first page of the chapter on acceptance rituals.
Curled up in her bed, Toby back up visiting his father with the nanny in attendance, Karen finally started reading the words that Jareth had warned her about. It seemed innocuous enough, at first. Then Karen read a line and stopped short.
"What?" she yelped. She went back and read the line again.
To become one of the elvenbrood, accepted yet not born in the manner of the elvenblood, the supplicant must fulfill the Ritual of Fertility, in which she will sprout with the seed of one of the elvenlords.
Karen sat up and read on, her eyes getting wider and wider as she read.
The supplicant will be prepared by the young males who cannot impregnate females of other races yet, the elvenwoodlings. After eating of the erotic fruits of the sacred bushes, she will lose control of her lusts, becoming prey to the elvenwoodlings.
***
Sarah ate the pretty, pulsing purple berries. She had several, since they tasted so good. Then she started getting warm. As her mind went fuzzy, she realized she wasn't warm. She was in heat. And there were young men all around her, sniffing and tasting and touching and…oh, my!
That wasn't touching. That was licking. And that was, oh, so nice. And another tongue? Wait…how many hands were there? One, two, three, four,…she kept counting. Then something else caught her attention. How many of those were-oh, no. That just wasn't physically-ohhhhh….it was. And it was nice. Verrrry. Verrrrry. Nice.
Okay, so there was plenty of room for one more of these guys to come play. She didn't mind at all. In fact, she was really enjoying this. Maybe she was a bit sore, but then she ate another pretty berry, and everything went good again. So good…
Sarah lost track of time, space, and everything else as she floated on a cloud of pure ecstasy. She didn't notice when the men left her, she had passed out. Once she was unconscious, the women took over.
***
When she has been properly prepared by the elvenwoodlings, she will be taken by the elvenflowers to the Circle of Lords. There she will approach one of the trees in which the elvenlords do dwell.
***
The elvenflowers, bathed Sarah in sweet-smelling water, then one pushed what looked like a simple wooden bead deep inside her. Had Sarah been back to her usual self, she would have asked what was going on. As it was, she just wiggled a bit and whimpered, wanting a bit more than just the bead. Finally, with the women tugging on her and pulling on her, Sarah drug herself from the water. The elvenflowers started walking into the forest, and Sarah followed, wandering and floating through the woods to the great circle of trees. She was just a pretty flower, following the current where it swept her. Life was good. She felt good. She was happy. Pretty trees. Big trees…
She was taken to the center of the circle and the elvenflowers simply faded off into the forest. Sarah turned 'round and 'round in the circle, looking for the elvenflowers. They had all gone away. She wandered around a while longer, then ambled aimlessly toward a giant yew tree.
***
Inside the tree of the elfinlord, the supplicant will be seeded.
***
The bark of the yew opened when she touched it, and Sarah walked right into the tree, still unaware of her own actions, but acting anyway. It was dark inside the tree, and she was still…wanting. She wanted the elvenwoodlings to come back and play, but they were all gone. And she was inside a tree. Wait. How'd she get inside a tree?
The question would have started bringing her back from her berry-induced haze, but something wonderful happened.
In the darkness, strong, rough hands, gripped her and lifted her into the air. The hands were gentle, but felt a great deal like treebark. So did the body that she was pressed against. No, it was smoother than treebark. Sarah felt herself get rolled onto a soft bed of something and a heavy, woodlike man that she couldn't see was on top of her.
Sarah was still under the influence of the elvenwoodlings and the erosberries. She simply sighed happily when she felt pressure between her legs, the man asking for entry. Tipping her hips up, Sarah let the man do whatever he wanted for however long he wanted.
And he wanted to do a lot for a long, long time.
In fact, he didn't actually…stop…even when she felt the gush of stickiness fill her. He just kept going and going and the berries and the want made it very, very nice. Until she passed out again.
***
Once she is properly seeded, the supplicant will be returned to the elvenflowers for-
Karen's eyes almost popped out of her head.
***
Sarah woke up back with the elvenflowers. She felt like she'd been with a tree. Which, technically, she had, though she didn't remember much. In fact, she didn't remember anything but hazy, pleasant orgasms and some stickyness. No, lots of stickiness. She winced as she tried to move, then realized her body was down to a nice bed, but her legs were spread wide apart, high in the air. And there was something like a funnel and a large pot of…dirt…on the table next to her. And a watering-can.
"What the fuck?" she yelped, struggling to remember everything that had happened after eating those pretty purple berries. She really needed to concentrate on what she'd been told by the elvenflowers before she ate the berries. She would have been much better prepared.
***
-preparation to sprout the elvenseed. She will be filled with earth, that the seed may take root.
***
Sarah thought about struggling, but quickly learned it wasn't going to work. The elvenflowers knew their knots very well, and all she got was pulled muscles and chafed wrists.
Those berries had thrown her for a loop, all right. She would have tried to fight with magic, but one of the women told her that her magic was still drunk, so it was no use. After checking to make sure that was the case, she discovered it was. Her magic was as unsteady as a sailor on a three-day drunk. Grand, no wonder it hadn't been any use. In fact, touching her magic made her head swim and she started getting drunk, too.
When they started to pack her with earth, Sarah demanded to know what was going on.
"You don't want the seed to grow?" one of the elvenflowers asked, face wounded.
So many different responses flew through her mind that the connexion between brain and mouth shorted out. Sarah lay there, dazed, confused, and thoroughly disgusted. She now knew exactly how a flowerpot felt.
It wasn't much fun. She decided to make her life easy and drew hard on her very, very inebriated magic. Maybe if she were toasted, she wouldn't need serious therapy after this was over.
Oh, yeah. Drunk was sooooo much better.
***
The seed will grow within the supplicant and, when the sprout is visible to the naked eye, it will be ready for transplantation.
***
Recovering from a magic-induced hangover, Sarah had decided the hangover wasn't worth it and resigned herself to the complete strangeness of the Elvenwood. She wondered if this was what a hippie that hadn't recovered from his last acid trip felt like. In an effort to distract herself and pretend her legs weren't completely numb and her back didn't hurt from not being able to move for a week, she read the books that the elvenflowers brought and kept testing her magic to see if it was still lurching, falling-down drunk. It was intoxicated, but no longer so drunk it couldn't be accessed and actually used. She still got woozy when she touched her magic, though, so she left it alone.
Sarah sighed. Who would have thought that magic could get wasted when she wasn't? It just seemed wrong.
A lot of things about this entire elf-situation seemed wrong. Hell, a lot of things about this were just plain wrong. In the end, what was done was done, so there was nothing left to do but take it in stride and try to forget it. She had the sneaking suspicion she would be trying for the rest of her life.
The eighth afternoon of her strange and twisted existence as a giant planter, the elfinflower attending her squealed and clapped her hands together. Sarah looked up to see what the woman was so happy about. That was a mistake. She saw…green.
***
When the seed had sprouted sufficiently to be planted in the Elvenwood, the seedling will be taken, uprooted from the supplicant, now elvenflower, and carried to the nursery-grounds for proper planting.
***
Sarah felt like she was going to throw up. Some things just should not be seen. Ever. Not there. Never there. Or anywhere like there. Uh-uh. No. She was now in denial and she was going to win. This was not fucking happening to her, she was not seeing what she saw. She was…somewhere. Anywhere. But she sure as hell wasn't here with…that…sprouting…no. Nope. No way. Not this girl. Never. La-la-la-la…she tried to close her eyes and envision whirled peas, but those were green and green was bad. Evil. Horrible. Nope, she wanted to pictured elvenlord nuts, roasting on an open fire. Now that was the way to go. She hummed to herself for several minutes, joyously chopping down giant trees and burning them in her head. Then reality intruded.
Her stomach rolled, as the women pulled earth from her. The elfinflower that whose happy cries had called the others to attend got a firm grip on the sprout-that hurt. Fists weren't meant to go-and yanked.
Sarah screeched in pain and began cursing all elves, the elvenlords, and plants that didn't know they weren't supposed to grow in certain places. She particularly cursed the one plant that had been so indelicately and painfully ripped out of her. That had fucking HURT.
The elfinflower holding the sprout cuddled the little tree to her breasts. The others gasped and three fainted. They made very loud thumps when they hit the ground. They were more solid than they appeared.
"Surely you do not mean such things, elfinflower?" she asked, her eyes huge and wounded.
Sarah almost said that she most certainly did, then thought the better of it. They had called her elfinflower, and she had been careful to remember that she had to be accepted by each race she encountered. Damn, but she wanted to let loose with a stream of even more of the same. Feeling virtuous, she refrained and changed the subject entirely.
"A little warning would have been nice," she said through gritted teeth. "That hurt."
"Oh." The elvenflowers looked at one another. "We have found it easier for the flower to give up her seedling if she is not warned."
"For the elvenblood, that is probably true," Sarah said, forcing herself not to shriek and curl up, shielding herself from their view and potential touch. "But I'm born human, even if I am accepted as elfinflower now. Am I bleeding?" Her legs had been released and were being carefully massaged to help the blood get back where it was supposed to be. Ow, ow, ow…
"Oh," the elfinflower had the good grace to look chagrined. "I had forgotten, lady. I do apologize. Here, Yewta, take this little seedling to nursery. Oh, he is strong," she said, looking at the bulb at the base of the sprout where the little elf grew within the heart of the tree-sprout. "I will assist you to the baths, Sarah."
The attending elvenflowers carefully massaged Sarah's aching, bleeding body until she could stumble between two of them to the hot pools.
"We shall leave you to bate, elfinflower. Please, take your time." Two of them stopped short while the others left her alone. One of the two walked back to the pool and added, "Your magic should be completely recovered when you eat a good meal of bread and meat. Birchita went to get the tray for you. Does that sound acceptable to you?"
"Elfinflower," Sarah said, finally hearing something that seemed normal to her, "that sounds lovely."
***
In her chambers, Karen read the exact processes and felt her stomach clench. Jumping out of bed, she just made it to the bathing chamber before losing the remnants of her dinner.
She shuddered.
Poor Sarah.
And to think, Oakheart was an elf.
She heaved again at the thought.
***
The long soak and meal had restored Sarah to her magic. Once her magic was back, she got her water-charms to work, and promptly set up a series of currents that would thoroughly cleanse her, inside and out. She scrubbed using a thick, rough towel, too, trying to free her body from the buildup of loam and earth that seemed to have become part of her skin over the past several days. It would take years before she could stand the feel of dirt on her skin.
While she scrubbed her skin raw, she thought. With her magic restored to her, and the thinking she was doing, she began to fume.
Finally, when she felt she wasn't covered in a fine layer of tree sap and dirt, she created a huge water-ball, stuck her head into it, and recorded a very specific and long message for one particular person. She had taken her time, venting her frustration and, yes, disgust, letting all of her creative abilities out in a fine display of pique. Calmly, she gave the ball instructions and leaned back. With a wave and a smirk, she sent the watery bubble on its way.
She was elfinflower now. She could comment as much as she wanted on the way things were around here.
That didn't mean she would go and hurt the little brainwashed elvenflowers' feelings though.
***
In his throne room, Jareth had just finished a diplomatic message to the southern kingdoms, setting up a new, lighter but expanded tariff for all goods going to and from those kingdoms. The emissaries had just left and his courtiers were getting ready to leave when a huge water-ball came floating into the room.
The pulse of magic around it screamed "Sarah".
Smiling, he looked up as the ball came to rest over him. His face was tipped up, eyes bright, expectant.
The ball broke, sending a deluge of water into his face, soaking him to his skin even through his supposedly-impervious coat.
Oakheart snickered as Sarah's indignant voice screeched at her king.
"YOU HAVE ONE SERIOUSLY FUCKED-UP KINGDOM, JARETH!" After the initial shriek, Sarah went into details. He caught the words "flowerpot" and "sprouting in" among a host of other words, many profanities, and some analogies he didn't want to consider. "And I'm tempted," the voice fumed at him, "to cut off your-" he winced as she gave details of exactly how she would remove that portion of his anatomy, a part of which he was rather fond, "-and shove it up your nose!"
Oakheart and the various elves in attendance were laughing hysterically, leaning on one another and wiping tears of mirth from their eyes. The rest of the courtiers winced with the first few lines and escaped quickly, not wanting to know what had happened to upset the runner who may well become their future Queen.
The elves howled louder as Sarah's voice wound up and down the scales of outrage and indignance.
Soaked, looking out on his throne room, now devoid of all but the insane elves Sarah was ranting about, Jareth wished he could get away, too. Unfortunately, he may as well just stay here, because the water carried the words, and the water was, quite literally, all over him.
The king watched the elves roll on the floor and laugh and laugh. Elvenwoods and elvenflowers alike were highly amused by the very inventive invective rolling through the air like high-pitched thunder.
Jareth sighed.
Elves.
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Shattered