(A/N) Hi! Sorry, there wasn't an author's note for the first chapter. I had difficulty with uploading so I just kinda of gave up trying anything extra other than what I had. Anyway, this whole story was inspired by that one tumblr post about selkies (someone in the reviews actually guessed it, yay). I'd recently rewatched Labyrinth and I thought: Selkie Jareth and Human (?) Sarah, haha jk, unless? So I wrote it. I think—key word: think—I have an idea for a plot. It's not concrete but it's there. The next chapter will likely be from Jareth's POV, which will hopefully shed some much need light on all this but I digress. Enjoy!

-HM

"Is—is that an engagement ring?!" Sarah's voice went up three octaves along with her heart rate.

The beautiful man whose name she still didn't know smiled at her. It was a patronizing smirk, and she had half a mind to smack it off. "Well, obviously. We should get married by human customs as well, my dear Sarah."

"…What?"

The world seemed frozen to Sarah. Or, at least it seemed frozen to the part of her brain that was running a mile a minute, hoping against all hope that it would be able to make sense of this before the regular passage of time resumed.

When sound and movement and life came back, Sarah found that her brain had not, in fact, been able to make sense of this fiasco. The only coherent thing to come out of this whirring and whining was the think noodle equivalent of a helpless shrug.

"Oh, darling." The man purred. Purred. Good God. "You are speechless, aren't you?"

"Not quite," Sarah heard herself say faintly. "Just who—who the hell do you think you are?"

"Jareth Malik," the man drawled, placing a lingering kiss on her now jewel-clad hand. When did he—? Shocked, Sarah instinctively pulled back. The flash of hurt in his unnerving eyes would've made her feel awful if he wasn't so clearly psychotic.

"Jareth Malik, huh?" Sarah grumbled. At least she now had a name to give to the police. Still... She drew herself up and arched a dark brow. "I'll ask again: Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Your husband, your spouse, your dear," he listed, using an elegant hand to count off from. "The love of your life, although you don't seem to realize that last one just yet—"

"You're crazy!" Sarah hissed, stating the obvious. She glanced around at the people who had gathered to watch the spectacle. Some of them were coworkers, some were clients, and some of them were custodial staff. It appeared that everyone in the building had come to watch Ice Princess Williams get proposed to by a stranger.

Was it suicidal to want a spontaneous brick to fall from the sky and put her out of her misery?

"Oh, no," crooned Jareth. "You are just as sane as I. After all, you can see them too, can't you?"

The guy was talking nonsense but Sarah couldn't help herself. She bit. "See who?"

Jareth had the audacity to wink at a time like this. "All in due time. You seem a little scatterbrained, my love. Wouldn't want to confuse that pretty head any further. Besides, I have far more…exciting ways to blow your mind." He wiggled his sharp brows suggestively and Sarah grimaced. She was so caught up in her disgust—and admittedly piqued interest—-that she failed to notice him threading his long fingers through hers and the fog descending on her mind.

"I am sure you have questions and as a generous ki—er, man, I am willing to answer some of them," the man informed her, grasping her hand and pulling her along. Sarah followed him thoughtlessly, as if in a trance.

She frowned. "Only some?"

He nodded and guided them towards the exit doors. "You are on a need-to-know basis, my dear, and curiosity has killed one to many cats. We've only just gotten married, I'd hate for you to die."

Not for the first time, Sarah questioned the man's sanity.

"I'd hate for me to die too," she said honestly. "But where are we going?"

"Out," he answered before stopping at the front desk. Sarah watched as the gorgeous man she had formally met only five minutes ago turned his charm on another woman. It was very disturbing, for reasons she couldn't quite pin down, watching him schmooze in a way that was almost supernaturally persuasive and the secretary swooning as professionally as she could in response. It certainly didn't help that Sarah felt strangely territorial over him and was growing increasingly jealous as his flirting wore on.

She realized what he was doing though; he was getting her excused from work.

"Oh, your understanding is much appreciated," Jareth preened and Sarah could've sworn his blonde hair had gotten shinier, his jacket sparklier, and his face prettier. Weird. "This is a wonderful occasion and such a lovely day as well. I'd be devastated if my new fiancée were to be swamped at work for the entirety of it. You'll make sure her boss is equally understanding, yes?"

"Of course," the secretary breathed, fanning her red cheeks. Sarah caught herself glowering at the woman. "Mr. Winchester is a very understanding man. I'm sure he'll be ecstatic for the future Missus—"

"Mrs. Malik," Jareth provided with a canary-eating grin.

Sarah snorted. This whole situation was surreal. First, her apparent marriage/engagement to a certain perfect stranger and second, the words 'Mr. Winchester' and 'understanding' being said in the same sentence. She wasn't entirely present though, like a spectator in her own life. Her mind was in a cloud which left her body in the full control of the enigmatic Jareth Malik. And she wasn't entirely sure if that was such a bad thing yet.

With one last congratulations from the front desk secretary, the pair made their way out onto the sidewalk. Jareth had an arm securely wrapped around her waist and Sarah couldn't find it within herself to remove it. It was surprising warm and strong. Secure.

He guided them a ways, toward the Latte Labyrinth it seemed, and she was content to follow. However, when they neared the cafe Sarah gasped.

There was a woman (?) loitering outside of the building, smoking a cigarette, and looking for all the world a normal human woman on break. Except…her face was upside down.

"What…What is that?" Sarah whisper-shrieked. She gripped Jareth's arm in a terrified vice. The cloud blurring her thoughts evaporated amidst her sudden horror.

"She," Jareth correct haughtily. "Is a yokai. Distantly related to the futakuchi-onna."

"Yokai?" Sarah asked faintly, still staring at the creature who had since finished her smoke break and had waved in the direction of another creature, a man with gazelle horns curling up from his temples and scales traversing up the skin of neck.

"Japanese demons, fae, whatever one sees fit to call them. They don't mind," Jareth said blithely, as if he saw stuff like this everyday. Perhaps he did. Oh. Oh no.

Sarah whipped around to look at him and immediately let out a pitiful whimper.

His eyes, which she had already though of as otherworldly, were even more so now. Their stormy depths practically glowed and the skin around them was painted with foreign markings that only enhanced his ethereal features. The man's (?) hair was like spun gold, shining in the sun unnaturally bright and blinding. His teeth, which shown like pure sea pearls, were wicked sharp and sparkled deviously. Even the clothing he wore had revealed itself to be not of this world. Sarah had thought of it as out-of-place, even dated in some areas, but now they seemed sort of timeless yet uncanny.

She barely managed to get the question out of her trembling lips. Sarah wasn't sure what she dreaded more; the echo or the answer.

"Wh—What are you?"

"You doubt me?" Jareth smiled that razor-edged smirk. "Jareth Malik, your husband. Just as I said."

"No," Sarah insisted, that bit of spark returning to her numb body. "What are you?"

His smirk dropped from his face like a mask, revealing something much more dangerous. Much more real.

"Damn. Your curiosity, dear…" He said. Threatened.

"Answer the question."

"Jareth Malik, the half-fae half selkie King of the Labyrinth." He finally revealed, shirking the glamour off of himself not unlike a winter garment. Sarah understood about one-third of what he'd said. She didn't have time to dwell on it because he was advancing on her swiftly.

He gripped her arms, hard. "Do you want to know what you are, Sarah dear?"

No. "Yes." Dark spots began to obscure her vision and sleep called to her.

"You," that smirk again. "Picked up my coat and that makes you…"

Sarah let the darkness take her but not before she heard him say, a bitter irony caressing his words:

"My wife and slave."