The Chase

She looked around, tilting her head to one side, leaving an ear up to hear the above night sounds while leaving the other to the ground to listen for footsteps. Stars barely peeped through the forest canopy and of the stars she did see, none of them looked familiar.

I'm not Aboveground.

Which meant…

She looked down, deciding to take stock now rather than later when it might be too late. A short, virginal white dress clung to her slight frame, held around her waist by a silver jeweled belt which accentuated her small waist and sizable hips. Foreign arm bracelets made of brass and copper wound around her upper arms, looking sinuous and sinister in the pale starlight. Her hair was wrapped up with gold cords that fell down and tapped her back. No shoes unfortunately. And no under things either.

Definitely not Aboveground. He's definitely doing this. What's he playing at?

She looked around again. She really was in the middle of nowhere. The middle of something and nowhere at the same time. Deciding she was here for a reason and sticking in the same spot wasn't going to give her the answers she wanted, she headed off into some direction that her feet took her.

Walking barefoot wasn't that bad, for all her not having summer feet. An occasional pine needle or cone poked but not something so uncomfortable that needed to be voiced in the quiet forest. She was in a wooded area of all pine and fir trees, the smell was almost overpowering. Like Christmas on steroids. The thought made her smile before another realization struck her. The night sounds had stopped when she started moving. No birds, no animals in the low brush.

She stopped walking and stood still. Like magic the animals started their choruses again. Odd.

Again she walked, deciding silence was preferable to waiting. She had never had the virtue of patience. Who needed patience when you could take action and find out for yourself?

While she was still walking, she heard the sound of whispers floating all around her. Even when she stopped moving, they continued to float all around her. Swirling and circling, they ruffled little tendrils of her hair until small, wispy brown curls escaped and twisted around her temples and the nape of her neck. The whispers wrapped around her body, softly caressing her exposed ankles and calves until she giggled. She could have sworn that they giggled back.

This time, the whispers got louder and insistently began to push her forward to walking again. She was gently tugged and pushed until walking was too slow and then she began to gleefully frolic with the murmurs around her, skipping this way and that, caught up in their game. She had quite forgotten her questions and her wonders at being in this strange new place. They fell away from her like old cares and worries, leaving her new and clean, fresh and tantalizing.

Sometime through the fun, woodwinds started playing, melodies and harmonies tantalizingly floating in and around each other, building up and then dying down again. The song repeated itself over and over, but always seemed new to her ears as she danced with the whispers. The song seemed older than time, it called in her blood, igniting something she hadn't known was deep inside her.

All I needed was music…I needed this.

She was graceful, she was lovely, she was beauty in the light of the stars. She was made up of the stars, her face and body glowing with the magic around her, shimmering as she swayed and felt and heard the music. It was inside and around her, filling her until it came out in an explosive dancing fashion.

Little lights winked on around her that seemed to balance and hang in the air before moving in her rhythm of their own volition. Fireflies. They danced with her, casting speckled shadows on her form before moving closer and highlighting her face, her hair or her figure before moving away and becoming shadows again. She'd never been more breathtaking, the lights playing on her features, giving them a soft glow that belied the fire and passion now rising in her.

A pair of mismatched, hungry eyes watched, waiting. Patience. There was yet time to watch the play before it came to the climax.

Everything was unrushed and unhurried as time slowed and beat only to the step of her foot lightly touching the ground before she was off again. Dancing, chasing, and being chased with the whispers.

All at once, the whispers urged her on. They rushed her to go faster, they spoke for the first time.

"Run…Run, Sarah…"

She didn't fun. She flew, fireflies forgotten. Her feet hardly touched the ground as she raced past the tall, ominous, and silent trees. Her arm bracelets clashed together, it was the only sound she made as she ran through the trees on an unknown path only her feet knew. She knew not what she was running from or to, only that she needed to run, she was told to. It was her purpose. Run. Faster.

There. To the left. A shadow keeping pace with her but just a little behind.

Jareth.

She ran faster, she needed to outpace him and lose him if she stood a chance. But wait…why was she running? She wanted to slow, ask her remembered questions but the whispers insisted more fervently.

"Faster!"

She ran faster, if that was even possible. Her feet hardly touched the ground anymore and became blurs upon the carpet of the forest floor. She heard his footsteps now, they became louder and louder as they beat a staccato rhythm in her ears and her heart. Her breathing became labored and she heard him panting behind her. She needed to dodge him and fast.

With a quick maneuver, she veered left and struck on a new path. Unfortunately, he'd anticipated her move and had gained a step behind her. She tried it again, back on the main path and then off again, this time to the right. He was now reading which way she would go and had gained even more ground. Instead of trying again and risking getting caught, she ran and ran, hoping to outpace him by pure willpower and strength alone.

It was futile, he was stronger, he was faster, and he had magic on his side to aid him. His will to capture and conquer was by far stronger than her will to flee and escape. But she didn't want to get caught! The gold cords tapped lightly and teasingly against her back, reminding her of the presence now not so far behind her.

They ran on and on into the moonlight, finally at a stalemate, her not losing ground, him not gaining. It was far from the typical predator chasing prey. It wasn't a hound seeking thrill in the form of a chase. It was a proud and commanding stag bearing down on his chosen consort, a beautiful and smaller doe. The one who would be his…

They were both beautiful and sleek in the starlight and that dark, silent forest, flying and fleeting. Such a chase was never before recorded and there never would be again.

Finally, she heard her whispers one last time. She'd almost forgotten them in her desperate race.

"Stop, Sarah…stop running…"

No! I can't stop! I must never stop! He'll catch me!

"Stop running…let him catch you…"

With tears in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks, she vehemently shook her head and strove on. Her heart pounding like it would burst and her blood pulsing as it never had before, she felt alive and she wouldn't give this moment up.

Just then she felt a feather light brush at her back, briefly touching the gold cords before falling away. And there, another one, just at her shoulder blade. Sobbing, realizing all was lost, she heeded the words of the whispers and let go.

She could physically feel the soar in magic as joy and triumph swept over her in intense wave. She was his.

She had time to turn around, close her eyes, and plant firmly to the ground before she was wrapped around in strong arms and knocked off of her feet. The momentum flew them both several feet away, her backwards and he forwards. They landed together not on the prickly forest floor but on a mossy embankment next to a small gurgling stream that had not been there before. He had cushioned her landing and made sure she was not crushed by his weight as they had fallen together. They both lay there, panting, trying to regain their breaths, harsh sounds of inhaling and exhaling penetrating the night air.

She finally plucked enough courage to open her eyes and look at the man who had very literally swept her off her feet. Deep and bottomless dark depths stared back at her, measured only by a trace of blue and brown. Their labored breathing was in unison as they stared at each other, hardly believing the one that had haunted their dreams lay within arm's reach. She gingerly reached out to touch a hollowed cheek just as he lifted a hand from her side to cup her cheek and run a gloveless hand across her lip. Electric shocks filled her and she closed her eyes from the intensity.

She felt him loom and tasted the wintry crispness in the air before his mouth settled over her open lips. She moaned into his mouth and raised her arms to circle above his head, holding him fast to her. She felt him stiffen in shock at her change in attitude, once running away and now throwing herself wholeheartedly into his kiss, and pulled away before she was brought roughly back to him. He roughly kissed her, his own groan filling her mouth as he left nothing unexplored, nothing left unloved. Her form was molded to his, they fit together perfectly.

This is a fairytale and I never want to wake up. Don't let me wake up.

"If this is a dream, I never want to wake up either, Sarah. I've caught you and I never intend on letting you go again." His voice rolled over her like smooth and warm honey. She had been waiting to hear that voice for so long now. She reveled in it before realizing he's spoken aloud and was now staring at her in all seriousness. The only evidence of passion was the fires barely banked in his eyes and the swollen way his lips smiled. She was reminded of when they first met, that half smile and the way he'd cocked his head in amusement at her. It made her want to kiss him again.

She gave a happy cry at his words and tightened her arms around his flushed neck and kissed him with all the enthusiasm he'd caught her with. He was hers.

Wild and abandoned was that night, full of capture and surrender but always freely given and joyfully received. Such a night was never before recorded and there never would be again.