(Wow, could my summary be any vaguer? Heh, enjoy.)
The ashes fell like rain.
At least, they did from where Farid was standing. They covered him, head to toe, until his skin was as black as the ink that had played such an important part in his life. Ink from his story, ink from this story, ink from Meggie's story…
She had always said that her world wasn't a story, but how could she be sure? Did Farid ever, at once, think his true home was just dreamt up and written on paper? Of course not. Only in dreams. Dreams he could no longer remember.
A few children cried out in surprise, and Farid was snapped back into reality. His fire, stretching out like wings, had been inches away from the children watching. It almost made him laugh. Things were so different here, he was still in Inkheart, but he was nowhere near Ombra anymore. Back in Ombra, where Sootbird's smoke could've suffocated any poor innocent bystander, people were used to the…risks of the fire-dancers.
But he wasn't in Ombra. He was at a mountain village, a good distance far away from Meggie and Doria and all the others. Their names stung, even when he thought of them. He hadn't been lying to Meggie—however long ago that was—he wanted to travel. With her.
But here he was—without her and without Dustfinger even. Dustfinger was still with Roxane of course. He wouldn't leave her for anybody.
Not even Farid.
The young fire-dancer sighed, and decided to pay more attention to what he was doing, before he was chased out of the village by disgruntled parents annoyed by the nonexistent but still somewhat possible threat to their frightened children.
He dug his heels into the stump he was standing on, and took one deep breath in. Flames licked around his bare arms and torso like clothing. A few seconds passed, and they shot out—just a few inches this time—spinning rapidly around him until Farid was completely enveloped in them. The children, curious as ever, looked all around to gain back sight of him.
It was a good night for a show. Night had fallen, and clouds obscured the moon and the stars. Everything was still and waiting for him. The thought made Farid smile. Maybe, if the show was good enough, someone would invite him in for a dinner and a night in a bed. Farid had no problems catching his own meals—but how he wished for a break! And a night not lying on mountain dirt with the threat of fire-elves seemed heavenly at worst.
The firewall surrounding him extinguished, and the children groaned, thinking the show was over. But Farid grinned, and a plethora of flames flew upwards towards the sky, bathing the small clearing in a fiery red light.
Then, the flames shifted, without Farid directing them. He glanced up in surprise. Rapidly they swarmed, shaping into…
Oh no.
Farid lowered his gaze. He was thinking too much about her, that was all.
She—he didn't dare think her name more than he already had—disappeared as soon as she arrived, and Farid decided it probably was a good idea to stop. The flames snuffed themselves out, and Farid did a quick bow. A few children pouted, but they applauded, as did the adults.
He hopped off his little stump—a bit determined to leave, but a voice stopped him.
"Fire-dancer!"
Farid turned his head. The one who had called out to him was a boy about his age, with a red-headed little girl on his shoulders.
"Yes?" Farid questioned.
"Need a place to stay?" The boy asked. Farid blinked in surprise. Sure, this was what he was hoping for, but now…
"Actually, I do," Farid admitted, in spite of himself.
"Well, come on!" The boy laughed.
"We have a spare room…" the little girl mumbled, nervously avoiding her gaze.
"Thank you," Farid murmured. "That would be great. My name is Farid. What are your names?"
"I'm Syril, and she is Jia," said Syril. "Come, my house is this way. You look like you look like you're about to drop dead." Farid wasn't sure if that was meant jokingly or not, but he followed the two siblings anyways.
Syril and Jia lived just a mile past the clearing, in a not particularly attractive but sturdy wooden house. Syril introduced Farid to their two parents and Syril's older brother, Blythe. Blythe, after appraising Farid for a brief moment, proceeded to pick him up and outside and throw him in a nearby stream. Blythe muttered something about the smell of ashes, and Farid, grumbling to himself, managed to wash the aforementioned ashes away.
Once he got back, Syril handed Farid a towel and smiled apologetically.
Farid grunted, making sure to hide the fact that he now held a bit of an admiration for Blythe.
Now, he sat in the spare room, dry and more exhausted then he had been in weeks.
He almost felt mad at the fire. Why did they have to show him Meggie? The name blasted from his thoughts like a fired shot. Once he got her name through—all the other things he had been ignoring came through as well.
When did she not love him anymore? What did he do wrong?
The answer came to him almost immediately. Tauntingly. You didn't give her enough attention—you were too focused on Dustfinger and Orpheus, you fool. You took her for granted. Now she has the young robber. Life's not always a fairy tale ending—too bad for you; you have to learn that the hard way!
Damn it, damn it, damn it all!
He wanted to smash something. Break something. Even cry himself to sleep. But no, he wasn't stupid enough to destroy his host's property, and try as he might; all he could do was sit there, leaning against the bed. Everything seemed heavier, including himself. Almost like his veins were pulsing with lead.
"The bed's there to be slept on, you know, not just to be pretty."
Farid's head snapped up, and his eyes flew opened wide. No, he knew that voice. It wasn't Syril or Jia or Blythe—
"Meggie," Farid whispered. "Meggie!"
She was there. Her blonde hair tucked neatly behind her ears, one hand resting on the bedpost, smiling at him. Farid said her name out loud once more, as if she would disappear if he didn't. He staggered up, the movement made him dizzy. With one grin, he walked over and hugged her.
"How did you find me?" he asked.
"It's not hard to find a world-famous fire-dancer," she replied. Her smile didn't leave her face. "I missed you. I didn't want you to leave."
"But you…"
"I know," she said softly. Her eyes were glistening! Is she about to cry? Farid wondered.
"Listen," she continued. She reached behind her neck, and unhooked the necklace she was wearing. "Honestly, I have to get back before Mo and Doria get too worried."
"No," Farid begged, grabbing her arm. "Please. Stay!"
"I'm sorry," Meggie murmured. "Here. I brought you this." She slid the necklace into his palm, and Farid glanced at it.
The pendant had the picture of a blue jay on it. Of course.
"But you know what?" Meggie grinned, the serenity façade seemingly done with. "I think…I can stay for a while. Just to talk. Honestly Farid…you really look like you could use someone to talk to. You really do look lonely. Talk to me."
So he did. They told each other stories, of what was happening at Ombra and what Farid did on his travels to do his shows.
"Farid!" Syril exclaimed, poking his head in the doorway suddenly. "Farid, who are you talking to? You're awfully loud."
"Who am I talking too?" Farid echoed, laughing. "Syril, I'm talking to Meggie."
Syril tilted his head as if to say, who?
Farid rolled his eyes.
"I was talking to the girl sitting right behind…" his voice trailed off. There was no Meggie sitting behind him. There wasn't anybody.
"Sorry," Farid said weakly, facing Syril. "I meant I was talking to myself. Goodnight. And thanks."
"Right…" Syril mumbled, raising an eyebrow at Farid. "Goodnight, fire-dancer." He shut the door, leaving Farid to his thoughts.
Farid let out a deep, shuddering breath, and waved his hand over the space where Meggie had been. Or, more aptly, where he thought he had been.
I really am going crazy, he thought to himself, closing his eyes. He had to see her again. He would.
But there was that heavy, undeniable truth, weighting him down on his shoulders.
No, he wouldn't. He couldn't. It would hurt too much—she loved Doria, not him. It would hurt him—and it would probably hurt her.
It was just the burden he would have to live with. Just another ghost. One more couldn't hurt.
Weakly, he opened his palm.
There was no necklace.
Only ashes.
(A.N.) Ranting time! Okay, I just finished Inkdeath, and for the most part I loved it…but there were a lot of things that bugged me about it. Mostly just the whole Meggie-Doria coupling instead of Meggie-Farid. I liked Meggie-Farid better.
I loved Inkdeath, but I think I missed the whole Inkheart Meggie-Farid-Dustfinger-Mo-villains escapade. Some of the Inkheart (the actually fictional book Inkheart, not the first series book Inkheart) characters were just average to me—save for two exceptions: Jacopo and the Black Prince!
And I didn't think Farid got much of a happy ending in Inkdeath. Which kinda sucks. I mean, he's alive—he's got Dustfinger back—but err, the boy he was jealous of got his girlfriend, and he has no one to go with him on his journey to do what he really wants to do (Dustfinger isn't gonna leave Roxane for that!)
And, I think Farid wouldn't want to go back to Meggie after she basically dumped him. He doesn't seem to like Doria, so seeing Meggie with Doria…that wouldn't be fun for him, now would it?
Okay, so I could've written an AU Meggie-Farid happy fic, but for some reason I didn't.
This was weird, yet I…think I did…good? Thoughts?
Please review!