It was truly heartbreaking.
It was a heartbreaking sight for anyone to see. The hours had been shaky and unsure as they clicked tirelessly on. All alone she had been in her rose scented room, with the doors to her balcony left open as they always were, save when the frosts came or the rains pounded. The opened balcony window gave a vent to the heavenly scent of the rose garden lying beneath it. Welcoming the gift of many roses, of every shade, of every scent whether heavy or light all crawled up the ivy-covered wall into her warm bedroom.
The sun's curious white fingers would brush her face gently creating the illusion of a radiant halo. For a brief moment, the one watching her wondered if she was an angel fallen from the heavens that forgot how to fly. But then the woman would wake up; her dark, emotional eyes would slowly open and smile at the site of the beautiful day awaiting her.
Then, she would turn her head towards her admirer, and smile. Blinking sleepily, she would reach out her elegant fingers for his company, which he was happy to oblige. As the sun would rise, she would fall back to sleep in the comfort of his arms. Never wanting anything else than to hold her, his eyelids would dip down, till he was also asleep.
But now, the sky seemed to be saddened that the sun could rise without her chocolate eyes to flutter open and greet the dawn with a warm smile.
Their bedroom was larger than it needed to be, and his heart twitched painfully at the remembrance of her words when she first entered the room, swearing that a family of seven could live in the room and still have extra space. Dust collected around the tops of the furniture, and on the smooth glass of the picture frames, which she use to never allow to happen. But then she had become weak and sick, and had no choice but to watch as her polished frames and sparkling glasses dulled with dirt.
Anytime he suggested that he clean up for her with a spell, her fire would rage and he bite back the offer. She clearly stated it was her room, and he just stayed there with her. It was the only place the void of magic, at least his certain type of magic, and she preferred it to stay that way.
Although it seemed in order, and nothing was touched since she had last slept in the room, a sad discomfort befall the mourner who had visited this magnificent room and many times refused to leave as her illness became worse. His heart ached terribly as memories of the way he'd brushed the graying hair from her eyes so gently as they talked, or as she slept, came back to him.
This time he had lost her, and the great divide, which separated them now, was an impossible one to reach across.
Never in his hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years of living did he dream a day would come that the absence of one soul would bring his stone heart crashing down, shattering on the jagged earth of the cruel Earth's reality. Even though he knew it wouldn't last till his dying days, somewhere within his soul he longed for a way to keep her with him till then. But it was impossible.
Holding up a perfect sphere of glass, he peered through the ball, and fooled his heart into believing that, indeed she still laid there peacefully sleeping. Dark mane falling around her shoulders as she slept on her side, her lips slightly parted and forming a small smile in her dreams. She was beautiful, and for a second he believed that she was there again, just about to wake and reach out to him…
But breeze was not so kind to go along with the illusion. As it gently flowed over the empty bed, rustling the silk sheets and bringing the sad fragrance of roses to the room.
It wasn't true, it couldn't be. He tried to assured himself, turning his face away from the empty bed. Shattering the fragile crystal in his gloved hand.
She'd come back; she always did, so this time wouldn't be any different. He closed his eyes and leaned against the stone wall, he wouldn't let any tears fall. But his memories rebelled, and brought her to life in the most painful of circumstances.
"Who wants to live forever Jareth?" Sarah had questioned, smiling weakly. Using the tips of her fingers, she gently traced his jaw line. His eyes closed. It was futile to argue with her, once her mind was set nothing could molest it.
Then he stopped the reminiscing, knowing very well that the next time his eyes meet with hers was indeed the last time. Looking about the room one more time, Jareth slowly made his way to the bed, with it's ruffled dark blue silk sheets. Within those tangled smooth fabrics lay a worn red leather book. The gold letters had long ago faded, the pages where still fresh as a newly cried tear, and the lettering as black as a raven's feather. A simple book that brought Sarah to him, and had made him remember feelings that he had sworn to forget. Turning his hand as gracefully as a cat a perfectly shaped crystal appeared, a spectrum of light making designs on the wall.
The crystalline texture changed to that of an angel, with dark hair, sleeping peacefully on a star. Roses where in it's hair, and a small smile on it's lips. Jareth gently laid it upon the pillow before he turned to leave. Standing in the doorway of the bedchambers he had shared with his wife for fifty-nine years, the King sighed, shook his head and closed the door, never again to be opened.