~ A/N:

Hello lovely readers, both reviewing and non-reviewing.. ^.^

Two of you lovely people each won a contest.. during the same night..

So, congratulations Seran and MorWolfMor!

And now, it is time to Thank the Reviewers/Contest Winners~

Seran:Thank you for reviewing, darling~ I'm glad you like my story ^.^ also, congrats for having the 42nd review, and also reviews 16-58. :P I DID encourage people to review as many times as they wanted, but you went above and beyond that. I also very much enjoyed the little story you put into the reviews, and I'm dying to know the rest- That cliffhanger was just unfair! I think I might have to blackmail you into telling me the rest. I'll contact you, and we'll make the necessary preparations and negotiations. I really hope you continue to like the story with such enthusiasm! :)

MorWolfMor: Thank you so much for reviewing! :D And I'm really happy that you understood the reference, I was worried for a while that it was a bit too obscure, that no one would get it. :x

I'm uh, kind of obsessed with Sherlock xD. I'm glad you liked the chapter, And I hope you like the future chapters, It pretty much just escalates in interesting-ness from here on out .(Or so I hope) Anyway, this chapter is especially for you, even though I regret the whole 'and I'll update the very next day' part of the contest.. :P

This is the tragic ending of the lovely Author Note.

Remember Folks, review review review! And Share! And Review more!

Reviews are food for my Muse, Kio.

If Kio is fed, Kio is Happy.

Happy Muse = More Chapters & Faster updates && More Contest things.

This chapter is dedicated to MorWolfMor and Seran/Sophia for being lovely and reviewing *nods* You guys are awesome, and totally provide motivation for chapter writing~

Thanks guys! :D *Throws a bunch of Smarties and Magnolia blossoms into the air* ~

Also specially dedicated to MorWolfMor, because to be honest, If you hadn't won the contest, this wouldn't be up right now. And I'm also really happy that you won the contest and understood the reference- you're awesome!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Jim Henson's works or The Labyrinth (I just couldn't resist borrowing a little bit of it), but I do own my characters and most of the sh!t in here, so If you dare steal anything without my express permission, I will skin your hands and make a lovely pair of gloves out of them for me to wear.

Well, thanks for reading.. I hope you like it?

Chapter VI

POV: Henry/ Unidentified

Magnolia : A Modern Faerie Tale.

* . * . *

Henry cowered in a dark corner behind the piano, curled up, almost trying to fold himself up and disappear altogether.

Towards the center of the room, several crashes and bangs could be heard, the shattering of something expensive-sounding here, a muttered curse there.

Henry shuddered, and buried his face in his knees.

He was angry...and also most likely breaking all of the good gossamer crystal.

...

And, by the sounds of it, one of the ornately carved dwarf-crafted chairs.

SNAP!

.. Okay, two of the seriously fancy chairs.

There was a sudden and eerie silence.

When he could no longer stand the quiet, Henry bit his lip and decided to say something, anything.

"M..Máistir..," Henry raised his head slightly, and called out tentatively, anxiously.

Silence again. No answer.

Slowly, Henry unfolded himself, and craned his neck outwards, to get a better loo-

A hand clamped down on his shoulder.

Henry swiftly turned to face Him, his hands flying up to muffle his shriek of surprise.

"What.", He said, his face a stony mask of displeasure and general bad temper.

Henry fought to keep his breathing normal, to keep from hyperventilating, his heart beating a couple thousand miles a minute.

"W-Well, since they're coming to the underground, d-doesn't that.. make it easier for us to take her?", Henry gulped, entirely too aware of His looming form, which, as he was reminded on many occasions, was capable of ending his life in numerous and extremely painful ways.

"Mm, yes, an' ah suppose i'll jist waltz o'er th' wall intae th' seelie coort an' whisk 'er awa' withit sae much as a sniff o' trooble, is tha' reit?", His voice was murderous, and, seeing as he always slipped into his childhood accent when drunk, he had most likely broken into the liquor cupboard.

Also, judging by the smell of His breath, He had not only broken into the cupboard, but had drunk the gifted bottle of very rare and very vintage Elfin Moonshine that was supposed to be saved for ritual purposes.

Henry sighed, and, taking a deep breath, began again.

"You could ask.. Angus, to help you with the construction of a..peach-bauble. You know he has a soft spot for that crazy girl..and you could bribe him with your talent wi' words...", Henry trailed off, his breath catching in his throat as He suddenly leapt onto the top of the piano, precariously perching on the edge, gnawing thoughtfully on this thumb, as his eyes glazed over slightly.

"Aye... a peach. A classic move, why didne ah th'nk ay it afair? why, if it didne wark fur th' auld king, it doesnae mean tha' it willnae wark for me! An' there's m' talent tae th'nk abit. Aye.. it's brilliant.", He nodded and, after swaying forward slowly, he gracefully launched himself off of the piano, a surprising feat in his state of inebriation, and He sauntered over to the center of the room, carelessly kicking away shards of crystal and mahogany as he passed.

As He carelessly collapsed into the exquisite throne, He turned His head to the corner Henry was slowly edging out of.

"Y'ken, Henry.. Ah don' th'nk i'll kill ye yit. Ah was considerin' it, seein' as ye failed tae git rid o' 'er protect'r, but Ah jist mi'h lit ye bide a while longer..", He stopped talking abruptly, a cheshire-like grin splitting across His face, His eyes glittering dangerously, as He no doubt knew the terror His casual threat had caused.

"Y-yes Máistir..," Henry gulped, and stopped edging out from behind the piano, his back covered in a cold sweat.

"Now go fetch me a glass o' water.," He threw an arm over his eyes, quickly feeling the after effects of inebriation quite quickly, as usual.

Henry practically threw himself out the door.

* . * . *

He groaned, gritting his teeth as He sorely regretted chugging down that bottle of moonshine.

Opening His eyes, he pursed his lips as He surveyed the mess He had made in His drunken rage.

He looked at the broken gossamer crystal goblets, the shards of finely crafted dwarven furniture and sighed. Uncle was not going to be pleased. Especially not about the missing moonshine.

Drumming His lithe fingers on the edge of the very nice and very much not his throne, He conceded that he could always blame the mess on one of the goblins, and, of course, with His talents, who would say otherwise?

Steadfastly ignoring His headache, He exhaled slowly, retreating once more into His thoughts, as was His habit now a-days. He conjured up a crystal-bauble with a demure flick of His wrist, His uncle's words echoing in His mind.

'Just a crystal, nothing more, nothing less..

But if you turn it this way, and look into it...

It will show you your dreams.'

He maneuvered the crystal skillfully, from the back of his hand, to the palm, to His wrist, once until it was almost hovering in the air above His fingers. The bauble's fluid movements looked almost like water as it danced in His hand.

Suddenly, He twisted the bauble in a practiced, graceful move, and paused, staring deep into the depths of it. A few flickers of light floated to the surface of the shiny crystal, followed by a flash of red, and finally, the peaceful sleeping face of Her. Magnolia. The Chosen One. The Last Cleric. He tilted His head, His complete attention fixed on her comatose form, studying the rise and fall of Her chest, the slow, deep breaths.

He was so fixated on watching Her, He didn't notice the door slowly creaking open, didn't hear the small footsteps tentatively padding towards the throne, was completely focused on the image of Her in the bauble, that He jumped in his seat when a throat was cleared.

He snapped his wrist, abruptly turning the crystal into an ordinary plaything once more, His mouth dry, feeling a warmth spread to his cheeks.

"What. What do you want?," He demanded, glaring at the boy who stood before Him.

"I...I brought your water," Henry bit his lip nervously.

Snatching the crystal goblet from the boy, He settled back into His- the throne more comfortably, and dismissed the little brat with a wave of His hand.

When the boy was finally gone again, He allowed himself to rest His head against the back of the throne and silently curse Elves and their delicious liquor-making skills.

* . * . *

~ A/N: DONE. ALL WRITTEN ON THE SPOT. ALL.

This chapter was more of a filler, with completely necessary information for the development of the story. Who is 'He', Exactly? What does 'He' want from Magnolia? Who is 'Angus'? Who is this 'Uncle'? Well, you'll have to wait and find out.

Poor Henry, let's hope 'He' doesn't break into the alcohol again anytime soon..

Again (Again Again AGAIN) , If its horribly rushed and utterly appalling in both grammar in spelling,

I'll most likely go back and fix it later ^_^ (or in the future, find a lovely Beta reader)

Translations from Irish-Gaelic to English:

máistir - (loosely translates to) Master, Boss, etc.

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But PLEASE (Please) review!

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At the moment, there are no new contests, but give me a little while to recover from the last two, and a new one will be up and running in no time! In the meantime, tell your friends.

See you Beauties later~

Remember to read TJATH, Hopeless!,

and my new story, A Draught of Sunshine :)