Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot
Sometimes, Sarah dreamed of strange places and people. It was all nonsensical, of course, as is often the way with dreams. Her world contains many wonders, but nothing like the weird things she sees in her sleep. There are occasions when she imagines she once visited that fantastical land and walked its winding pathways. She met many of its peculiar inhabitants. Some of them were friends, she's sure because there's a hole where they used to be. When she closes her eyes, she can conjure up scenes from that fantasy life. Was she at a party? Sarah is sure she can see people dancing and hear music playing. The revellers are laughing and eyes are following her around the room. It's a dizzying display inside her head, and then she hears a clock chiming. Sarah sees her reflection in a mirror and she knows she has to remember something of vital importance, but what? Her mind is blank. She wakes up with a start, and the threads of her dream blow away like dandelion spores on the wind.
A wave of nausea hit her and she ran to the bathroom in the hope of finding relief. Semi-conscious and light-headed, she felt strong arms around her and a comforting voice whispered into her ear. She protested as a cup was pressed to her lips. A familiar sweet fruity viscous liquid hit her tongue. It made her gag at first, but gradually, it began to soothe her.
"Rest, my love, and soon all will be well."
Sarah can't help doing as she is bid, no matter how hard she tries to fight it. Somewhere, deep inside, she knows she ought to resist. There is a faint voice that whispers to her when she is between wakefulness and sleep. It tells her not to forget who she is and where she belongs. The trouble is; she's not sure she knows anymore. She feels lost, and maybe she is, how would she tell the difference? There are words she needs to say if only she could recall them. It was a declaration, she thinks, something about power. Sarah pictures herself holding a small red leather-bound book. It's all so familiar like she once knew the words off by heart. But still, they won't come.
The arms of Morpheus pull her under and she feels herself drifting back to that strange land.
The sound of a tinkling piano mingled with the chatter of the party. Glasses clinked and drinks were poured. Sarah caught her reflection in the mirror behind the bar and frowned.
"I should have worn the red dress," she muttered under her breath.
It was New Year's Eve, and after years of trying, Sarah had finally blagged an invitation to the hottest showbiz party in town. Okay, so she was the plus one of a gay friend, but it got her foot in the door. Unfortunately, the white dress she chose to wear made her look like something out of an old Hollywood horror movie. With her hair curled and piled up high on her head, she was a good likeness for the Bride of Frankenstein. It wasn't exactly the statement she was going for, and there were important casting directors present. A few decent roles in off-Broadway productions garnered her some favourable attention, but memento needed to be maintained and built upon. Her crummy choice of dress was going to get her noticed for all the wrong reasons. With less than an hour until midnight, there was no time to go home and change. Her twenty-fifth birthday was looming on the horizon and soon, she would be yesterday's news. It was desperation, and too much Champagne, that led to her make a hasty wish. In her heart, she didn't really expect him to appear; not that she doubted his existence. However, considering it was the best part of ten years since she last laid eyes on him, she figured he would have forgotten all about her. How wrong she was. Her fairy Godfather rode in on a wave of glitter and transformed her into the belle of the ball. Never take shortcuts, her mother once warned her, because you always end up paying for them one way or another. But her magical benefactor just seemed pleased to see her and said all he wanted in return for his generosity was a dance. It seemed such a small price for making her dreams come true. Throwing caution to the wind, and because New Year was a time to take chances, she agreed to his request. The band struck up as if on cue and started playing Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered. She giggled with glee as he twirled her around the dancefloor. The line in the song about worshipping the trousers that cling to him seemed particularly apt. No longer a child, she welcomed the feel of being in his strong arms. The countdown to midnight was about to start. It was time to bid farewell to 2005 and say hello to 2006. Sarah thrilled at the unexpected opportunity to kiss a king when the clock struck twelve. He conjured two cocktails out of thin air and raised a toast to new beginnings. The taste of peaches made her wince, but she drank it down without reservation. It was time, the chimes clanged and the countdown was underway.
Five… Her head started to spin… Four… His charming smile turned into a smug grin… Three… She couldn't remember who she was… Two… He caught her in his arms as she swooned… One… She was his and he sealed his triumph with a kiss.
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?
When she opened her eyes again, there was a small child peering up at her. He had a shock of blond hair and piercing blue eyes that appeared to know more than they should. For a moment, she couldn't remember his name or who he was to her. The two of them stared at each other until he broke into a broad grin. And then it hit her like a speeding truck; the truth that had been out of her reach for so long. Gathering her senses, she managed a weak smile.
"I'm sorry, sweetie," she cooed, "I just woke up and I wasn't sure you were really there."
Someone called out to Jorian, her youngest son. He reached up to plant a soft kiss on her cheek, and then he ran out of the room.
Drawing in a deep breath, Sarah let out a shuddering sob. For the first time in many years, she remembered everything. She was stolen away from her human life after making a foolish wish. Jareth's power over her was restored when she asked him for her dreams. Instead, he gave her his. Spirited back to the Underground, he made her believe she was a princess from a faraway land who was promised to him in marriage. The forgetting potion he administered to her was very potent, but occasionally, her old memories would bleed through. Whenever that happened, he would slip her another dose, increasing the potency as required. The taste of peaches always signified that she was losing her true self again. But for some reason, it didn't work this time. Her memories have never resurfaced during any of her previous pregnancies, until now.
"Oh," Sarah whimpered as the full implication of that revelation hit her.
This was her fourth pregnancy. She was already mother to three children. Her two beautiful sons and gorgeous daughter who she loved more than life itself; all fathered by Jareth, her husband. Everything she held dear was built on a foundation of lies. The realisation sent her reeling. What she had regarded as a long and happy marriage was an arrangement she was tricked into. Did that mean the love she felt for Jareth wasn't real? In all their years together, he had done nothing but adore her and devote himself to her happiness. He moved the stars for her, and gladly, too. Could all the good things he'd gifted her with ever cancel out the terrible wrong he'd done her? When she pictured the wonderful, loving family they had made together, Sarah believed she could forgive him anything. But she was already part of such a family when he stole her away. What of them? By her reckoning, a hundred years or more had passed since she last saw them. Her mother, father, stepmother and Toby, would all be dead now. She could never go back. Besides, living Underground had made her like Jareth; she was near-immortal and no longer human.
The bedchamber door opened and her husband hovered sheepishly on the threshold.
"Are you feeling better now, my love?" He inquired as he tentatively advanced towards her.
Her hands rested protectively over her slightly rounded stomach, as Sarah considered her response. What was done could not be undone. She knew she wouldn't trade her precious children for anything, even if it was possible to get her old life back.
"Should old acquaintance be forgot," she said as her green eyes met his odd blue ones, "And never brought to mind?"
Jareth showed no outward sign that he understood her meaning. He took the goblet from the breakfast tray, which rested on the side of the bed, and magically refilled it.
"All you need is some refreshment," he held out the cup, "Drink it, my love, please."
Sarah made no move to accept it.
Tears gleamed in his eyes as he gazed down at the goblet in his hand. The last time she recalled him looking so desperate was when she faced him in the ruins of the Escher room and prepared to say the final words that defeated him. She contemplated saying them again. Would it make the life they shared together disappear? She wouldn't risk erasing the existence of their children to find out.
"All I've done was done because of my love for you," Jareth confessed. "I can offer no apology because given the opportunity, I would do it all over again." He grasped her hand in his. "I would do anything for you, anything. Sarah, my dearest love, please, I beg of you, forgive me," he implored her.
She glared with distaste at the peachy syrup.
"You expect me to just forgive and forget?"
"I never expected your forgiveness and that is why I always made you forget."
He looked away in shame.
Ignorance was bliss, and she had been so very happy. It was easier to simply forget. Wait a minute, she stilled her hand, when did I ever take the easy option? On New Year's Eve all those years ago, her inner voice supplied, when you made a wish without proper regard for the consequences. All the truth could give her now was pain.
Sarah took the goblet from Jareth's hand as he watched her with sadness and regret. She offered him a toast before drinking.
"Here's to new beginnings."
The End.
Happy New Year!
The tone of this short fanfic wasn't all that happy, so apologies for putting a dampener on the festivities. I've just finished watching Jessica Jones on Netflix and I guess I transferred my Kilgrave feels onto Jareth! Anyway, I hope to get The Great Goblin Revolt finished ASAP. There was a lot of rewriting to do, and somewhere along the way (due to life's hard knocks) I lost my comedy mojo.
All the best for 2016. May it bring everything you're wishing for... so be careful about what that might be! ;-)
