Title: Drive You Mad
Author: Errie Wyvern
Summary: I will not tell you, lie. The jealousy will drive you mad.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Own nothing. Got it like milk?
Notes: I did another story, kind of like this one, for the X-Men fandom. It stars Logan and Marie. Just the pairing, not the people. There is no need for sense or quotation marks in this one.
At one time, there had been an ending for her. A sad broken version of happily ever after maybe, but it was still an ending. Now, he has come back to re-write the story, make the ending different, a shattered fragment of the abstract that was there in the first place. He came with his power and his sexuality and everything that he could have ever been and always was wrapped up into one neat little package.
For the first time in ages, she felt the solid power of Fear. Fear was a man, a sexual man, but a man nonetheless. The man was slender, with a body like chiseled marble, hair like silver moonlight, and the attitude of a wolf about to make the final move that will kill the prey. His eyes were not that of any mortal man, but belonging to that of the fae. One eye was a burning azure, the other a turbulent jade.
She was one of those women, one of those girl-women. She was too old to live, and yet too young to die. Youth was a curse set upon her all too mortal bones, setting into marrow and becoming like a kind of cancer that fed upon beautiful flesh. Wisdom and refined dignity were off-sets of her elderly soul, making her more royal than common place.
She was unfortunate, a poor soul who he come to in the middle of blackness, perhaps a rogue star setting a hint of light to his hair, making it spark and sizzle and wake the moral girl from a slumber that was not so sound. You can't come here. You are not welcome here.
A laugh that is low, yet deep and rich fills the small space, setting molecules on edge. My dear girl, you think that welcome is a limitation to me? I am not a vampire. I'm not what you think. A sadness staining the eyes of the man for a brief moment, only to be replaced by a quiet mirth.
What do you want from me? There is no malice or fear in the question, because although she is face-to-face with the man who embodies the emotion, she feels nothing of the sort. For she has beat him before, and now holds a kind of power over him.
What do I want from you? My dear, what I want is something you would be unwilling to give. I would however, like to know something. Why? He lets his voice play an invisible web over her, silken strands covering that which is unyielding, yet shivers a bit within the frame.
Why what?
Why do you let them? He stands proud now, thinking that he will at last get a straight answer from this one who is not a woman, and yet not a child. This mysterious human who was driving him mad.
I will not tell you, lie. The jealousy will drive you mad. The last part deteriorates to a whisper, moonlight allowing nothing but the soft language of the night. She pulls up her blanket over her skin, then changing her mind and pushing it down. The blanket never was an object of protection, anyway.
Alabaster skin ignites by starlight like oil over water. Her dark hair makes a crown around her shoulders, a signal to all around that she is the queen. Cloudy emerald eyes seem to stare at and beyond him at the same time.
His attitude changes suddenly, and he moves from his home in the corner to stride across the cramped space, standing at the foot of her bed. Child, I do not want to play with you. Tell me now! He is cold fire, threatening to spill over and burn her at the same time he seems to numb her more from the pain.
Go away, Jareth. I have no need for you now. She says it quietly, but with force. Then she lays her head on her knees, turning away from him and his disbelieving gaze. I have beat you into the ground Jareth. Leave before I drive you mad. Before you drive me into sanity.
He brings a black gloved hand close to her hair, running over the air settling like thick dust over long strands. I will not leave. Not yet. Not without you, Sarah. He leans over to inhale the scent that is uniquely hers. As soon as he pulls back, her muffled voice makes itself clear.
I am the queen here, Jareth. At this point, as far as you are concerned, I am God. She looks straight through him, not caring to reduce the tension that has settled into the room. She rises from the bed, straightening her silken nightgown, and walks right past him. The jealousy will drive you mad.
He stiffens in anger before turning, rounding on her. Cape swirling, he makes an impressive pose. Until he sees what she is holding. Sarah, don't do this. Let me stay just a little longer.
It is time Jareth. Regal as she is, she holds the crystal that allows him to transport from his world to hers. I told you that I rule this place. She removes the support of her silky hand from the heavy sphere and watches as gravity takes its course, and shards of silver moonlight scatter on her floor.
There is a faint music on the still air, pushing it's way through. No! You cannot leave me here, Sarah! I can't stay here this way. And he's trying to piece the crystal back together, grabbing shards and staining them crimson. Do not… And he is crying.
Sarah looks at him. The jealousy will drive you mad, the mortal speaks to the un, and she turns away, gazing out into the world that was hers, but now is theirs. You will go mad, like me. You will live forever in Hell. I'm just visiting.
Author: Errie Wyvern
Summary: I will not tell you, lie. The jealousy will drive you mad.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Own nothing. Got it like milk?
Notes: I did another story, kind of like this one, for the X-Men fandom. It stars Logan and Marie. Just the pairing, not the people. There is no need for sense or quotation marks in this one.
At one time, there had been an ending for her. A sad broken version of happily ever after maybe, but it was still an ending. Now, he has come back to re-write the story, make the ending different, a shattered fragment of the abstract that was there in the first place. He came with his power and his sexuality and everything that he could have ever been and always was wrapped up into one neat little package.
For the first time in ages, she felt the solid power of Fear. Fear was a man, a sexual man, but a man nonetheless. The man was slender, with a body like chiseled marble, hair like silver moonlight, and the attitude of a wolf about to make the final move that will kill the prey. His eyes were not that of any mortal man, but belonging to that of the fae. One eye was a burning azure, the other a turbulent jade.
She was one of those women, one of those girl-women. She was too old to live, and yet too young to die. Youth was a curse set upon her all too mortal bones, setting into marrow and becoming like a kind of cancer that fed upon beautiful flesh. Wisdom and refined dignity were off-sets of her elderly soul, making her more royal than common place.
She was unfortunate, a poor soul who he come to in the middle of blackness, perhaps a rogue star setting a hint of light to his hair, making it spark and sizzle and wake the moral girl from a slumber that was not so sound. You can't come here. You are not welcome here.
A laugh that is low, yet deep and rich fills the small space, setting molecules on edge. My dear girl, you think that welcome is a limitation to me? I am not a vampire. I'm not what you think. A sadness staining the eyes of the man for a brief moment, only to be replaced by a quiet mirth.
What do you want from me? There is no malice or fear in the question, because although she is face-to-face with the man who embodies the emotion, she feels nothing of the sort. For she has beat him before, and now holds a kind of power over him.
What do I want from you? My dear, what I want is something you would be unwilling to give. I would however, like to know something. Why? He lets his voice play an invisible web over her, silken strands covering that which is unyielding, yet shivers a bit within the frame.
Why what?
Why do you let them? He stands proud now, thinking that he will at last get a straight answer from this one who is not a woman, and yet not a child. This mysterious human who was driving him mad.
I will not tell you, lie. The jealousy will drive you mad. The last part deteriorates to a whisper, moonlight allowing nothing but the soft language of the night. She pulls up her blanket over her skin, then changing her mind and pushing it down. The blanket never was an object of protection, anyway.
Alabaster skin ignites by starlight like oil over water. Her dark hair makes a crown around her shoulders, a signal to all around that she is the queen. Cloudy emerald eyes seem to stare at and beyond him at the same time.
His attitude changes suddenly, and he moves from his home in the corner to stride across the cramped space, standing at the foot of her bed. Child, I do not want to play with you. Tell me now! He is cold fire, threatening to spill over and burn her at the same time he seems to numb her more from the pain.
Go away, Jareth. I have no need for you now. She says it quietly, but with force. Then she lays her head on her knees, turning away from him and his disbelieving gaze. I have beat you into the ground Jareth. Leave before I drive you mad. Before you drive me into sanity.
He brings a black gloved hand close to her hair, running over the air settling like thick dust over long strands. I will not leave. Not yet. Not without you, Sarah. He leans over to inhale the scent that is uniquely hers. As soon as he pulls back, her muffled voice makes itself clear.
I am the queen here, Jareth. At this point, as far as you are concerned, I am God. She looks straight through him, not caring to reduce the tension that has settled into the room. She rises from the bed, straightening her silken nightgown, and walks right past him. The jealousy will drive you mad.
He stiffens in anger before turning, rounding on her. Cape swirling, he makes an impressive pose. Until he sees what she is holding. Sarah, don't do this. Let me stay just a little longer.
It is time Jareth. Regal as she is, she holds the crystal that allows him to transport from his world to hers. I told you that I rule this place. She removes the support of her silky hand from the heavy sphere and watches as gravity takes its course, and shards of silver moonlight scatter on her floor.
There is a faint music on the still air, pushing it's way through. No! You cannot leave me here, Sarah! I can't stay here this way. And he's trying to piece the crystal back together, grabbing shards and staining them crimson. Do not… And he is crying.
Sarah looks at him. The jealousy will drive you mad, the mortal speaks to the un, and she turns away, gazing out into the world that was hers, but now is theirs. You will go mad, like me. You will live forever in Hell. I'm just visiting.