The Red Book
Started April 15, 2003
Written by Andrea 'Dearlady2002' Brink
***Author's Note: This story is a sequel to "Time to Choose." Please read that story before continuing on with this one!***
Summary: Dawn struggles to unravel the mystery behind her mothers' life, the book that appears to have ties to her death, and the nagging feeling that someone was involved...
Disclaimer:
*sigh* Same as before- the characters mentioned in Labyrinth are not mine. Dawn, Heather, and any new characters are mine, so don't steal them. Ask, and I'll most likely let you borrow them. ^.-*****
Chapter 1: A life lost, and a life renewed
Soft moonlight filtered in through the large dining room windows and shone down on the lone figure, faintly outlining a silhouette in the darkness. Though the night sky was teeming with stars, they went unnoticed by tear-blurred eyes.
She was gone. His beautiful Sarah was gone.
Tears welled up at the corners of Jareth's eyes and he quickly wiped them away. He'd done enough of that last night.
Though it had hurt the first time he'd lost her, he had known that she was young, and the hope that he'd see her again had kept him going. He knew where he could find her at any time he chose, and with the help of his crystals, it seemed like she was still a part of his life, if in a remote way.
But all of that was no more. The woman that he loved had made the heart-wrenching decision to give up her remaining family to stay with him forever, only to then be ripped from his arms by cold, cruel fate. Did the entire universe frown upon his existence so much as to curse him so? To a fate of such dastardly isolation?
Oh, how he missed her already. Too grief-stricken for any rational thought, he'd held her for hours during the night, kissing her soft cheeks and whispering that he loved her; not believing that she could be gone.
When he'd finally had some common sense return to him, he knew it would be best if her family found her, rather than go through the shock of finding her missing that morning. Gathering his willpower, he'd resolutely taken Sarah's body back to her home and gently placed her in her bed, positioning her as if she'd been sleeping when she'd passed away. He had given her one last, tear-laden kiss, and reappeared in the dining room at his castle to await sunrise, alone.
He'd kept looking in his crystals all night long, hoping by some slim chance that she would have been all right by returning Aboveground. Every time he looked in one of his crystals, however, she was still in the same position he'd placed her on the bed. Unmoving.
A knock on the dining room door startled Jareth out of his reflections.
"Come in," he said quietly, without even turning his attention away from the window to see who it was. Every morning and every night for seventy years he'd watched the sun rise and set through these windows. Though the sun was just rising, this morning's display was particularly beautiful, awash with burning magentas and brilliant orange hues. It pained him to think that perhaps the heavens were paying homage to Sarah's mortal life with their fiery display.
The door moved inward silently on its hinges and his chef and friend, Nicholas, entered the room.
"M'lord, anything for breakfast?" he asked, apparently not noticing Jareth's subdued demeanor.
Jareth shook his head once, barely noticeable from across the room. It was then that the man seemed to notice Sarah's absence. He looked down at his feet.
"So… how did it go?" he asked quietly.
Jareth pinched his eyes shut and took a deep, ragged breath against the onslaught of pain that question brought. He had hoped that Nicholas would accept his terse reply and leave him, but apparently that was not so. He schooled his features into the indifferent mask he usually wore, and turned to face the chef.
"If you must know," he spat, allowing annoyance to color his tone, "she refused me. I healed her and sent her home. In exchange she promised not to tell anyone of the Underground." He turned his back to the chef and faced the window, his arms crossed over his chest.
The chef's eyebrows arched in surprise. Sarah didn't seem like she would be the type to blackmail anyone into getting her way, much less the Goblin King. Nicholas knew that Jareth had loved the girl, but evidently she hadn't felt the same for him. Well, give him a few days to sulk and Jareth would be right as rain after that.
Not knowing what else to do, Nicholas bowed and left, shutting the door behind him. Jareth would call for him when his stomach won out over his stubbornness.
As soon as he heard the door latch click, Jareth's semblance crumbled. He dug his nails into his palm in frustration and bit his lip to keep from screaming. Gods, but he'd hated doing that, slurring Sarah's personality and memory by twisting the story around. He'd hoped that by making it seem like Sarah had chosen to go home, everyone would back off and let him have his space for a few days. He didn't need anyone's pity, and condolences would only make the pain more acute. A king had to appear strong. If not in private, at least before his subjects. He'd eventually tell Nicholas what happened... just not now.
He took another deep breath and looked down at the valley spread out beneath him, lit by the morning sun. He would have to go on, find a way to make himself continue. He had no heirs, and kingdoms without rulers fell into chaos.
Heirs…
His mind wandered back to Dawn and Heather, and he wondered what they were like. Did they have Sarah's looks or their father's? Did her shining personality live on in either of them?
Jareth realized now how difficult it had been for Sarah to make a decision. She'd grown to love him in a matter of a day, but she'd spent a whole lifetime with the girls. In the end, her choice to stay was a compromise of her two desires; to give in to Jareth's offer from seventy years ago, and to be able to see her girls, even if it was all an illusion. Under the circumstances, she'd made the best decision she could, but it had just come too late…
He ran a hand back through his hair. He wondered…
Jareth pulled a crystal out of the air and whispered softly to it. He pushed the window open and the ball lighted off his fingers, floating away on the soft breeze.
He formed another crystal, and gazing into its depths, waited…
*****
Dawn pulled her robe tighter around her waist and poured herself another glass of coffee. Spooning sugar into her cup, she sat down at the kitchen table to read the paper.
Obituaries.
Sighing, she turned the page. She'd had a demanding morning so far, between comforting Heather; who was at the moment upstairs playing with her toys, dealing with the police; whom she'd called when she had found her mother, and the people at the newspaper; whom she'd had to contact with the obituary information. They told her since they legally had to wait for the police report, it would be the next day before Sarah's obituary would be printed. She put the paper down and walked to the base of the stairs.
"Heather," she called, "come down and eat some cereal."
Because Dawn had forewarned the girl that her Gramma's health was no longer as good as it used to be, Heather had taken the news better than she thought an eight-year-old would. Still, she was keeping an eye on her.
Heather came running downstairs, carrying an old stuffed toy in one arm. Dawn had noticed that she'd been carrying it around since the night before, and asked her about it.
"Oh, this is Didymus," she said, hugging the scruffy fox. "He's in Gramma's story."
Dawn arched an eyebrow.
"One Gramma had told you?" she asked as she walked towards the front door. She realized earlier she hadn't gotten the mail yet that morning.
Heather shook her head.
"No," she wrinkled her nose and took a bite of her cereal. "One of Gramma's books. Upstairs," she said and pointed. "It's got owls, and monsters, and that magic man, and farting rocks…" she rattled on excitedly.
Dawn nodded absentmindedly and opened the front door. Heather heard her mom gasp in surprise and came running to the door, abandoning her cereal at the table but not her beloved fox, which she still clutched under one arm.
"What is it, what is it?" she asked, peering outside around her mother's leg.
Dawn bent down and picked up a large basket, wrapped in a soft green cloth and tied with a dark red ribbon.
"I don't know," she said, and undid the ribbon. Beneath the cloth was another, thinner layer of material, holding the contents of the basket in. Dawn opened the top and looked inside. It was full of assorted fruits, but mainly oranges, pomegranates, and an avocado or two.
"What on earth?" she whispered. Who would be sending her a fruit basket? No one knew yet about her mother, and the newspaper wouldn't print anything until the following day…
Heather pointed to a card hanging from the ribbon. "Open it mommy! What's it say?"
Dawn opened the small card and read out loud the fine, silver print to Heather.
" 'Sarah loved these particular types of fruit, especially the oranges, and I hope you'll accept them as a gift along with my deepest sympathies. Perhaps someday fate will bring us together and I'll have the pleasure of making your acquaintance.
To Heather~ keep practicing your reading, and always believe in the magic of your stories. You never know where they may take you in life.
Sincerely,
An old friend,
J.'"
Below the initial was an odd, crescent-like shape, in fact, it was the same shape of the scars that Dawn had found earlier on her mother's hands. Something very strange was going on.
"Mommy, the man from Gramma's book has a necklace just like that shape." Heather piped up.
Dawn looked down at her blonde daughter. "Sweetie, can you come show me this book?" The little girl nodded.
"Do you want to read it?" she asked. Dawn looked at the card again, her eyes quickly scanning over it.
"Yes…" she answered. "Yes, I do…"
*****
Jareth smiled slightly and tossed the crystal into the air where it disappeared. He had just set a series of events in place, and he had a lot of planning to do. Though his heart would bear the scar of grief for the rest of his life, he had found a new purpose in life; he had found something to look forward to…
*****