A/N: Usual disclaimer and such. The last part of chapter 8 was weird, I know. It will make more sense later, I promise.
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Chapter 9:
Her fingers flew over the keys of the grand piano. She was happiest when here in this secluded little room in the castle. Probably why she was such a virtuoso. It was the one thing she held over all the other fae. They believed that since they could create a symphony with a small wave of the hand, then why should they exert time and energy to learning how to play just one instrument? Few agreed with the mortal way of making music. Apollo, a few of the Muses perhaps. But most regarded it as a waste of time.
Giselle paused in the middle of a phrase and stiffened. She had felt someone enter.
"Please, princess, don't stop on my account."
She turned to glare at the man who was invading her privacy. He was vaguely familiar and she realized with annoyance that he was one of the suitors. "Wonderful," she thought sarcastically, "now they've encroached upon my only refuge." After the laundry disaster, she was determined to ignore the suitors. It had been so humiliating to be reprimanded in front of those socially inferior men.
Noticing her silence and displeased look, he proceeded to seat himself in the large armchair next to the piano. He smiled at her and continued his request, "Please, it was quite wonderful. Could you play a bit more for me?"
Giselle frowned but turned to her music and began to perform for the gentleman. As she did, the princess thought of what an impertinent, pushy idiot he was. "On the other hand," she admitted silently, "he's quite handsome. And he isn't pestering me about my mother for once. Most do."
He leaned over and questioned her gently, "I suppose you hate all of us? The suitors I mean." He paused, "I'm sorry for trying to take your mother away."
She stopped abruptly and stared at him. She hadn't told anyone why she had been so difficult lately. Granted, it was not too hard to figure out but she had not thought anyone would even care to notice. He looked tired to her. Simply exhausted... and a little guilty.
The princess spoke for the first time since he had entered the room, "Thank you." She said it quietly but he understood how much his statement had meant to her. He smiled. She gave one in return. "Maybe this one isn't so bad," she thought.
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She had just stepped off the curb. Singing quietly, she began drifting across the little road on her way home. She barely noticed the car's tires screeching as it came around the corner. As it drew closer, going twice the speed limit, she turned and stood there in shock, her eyes going wide. And then everything went black.
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Jareth gasped for air and clutched at his chest. These nightmares were more terrifying than anything he had experienced in his two thousand-year existence. A thought struck him and he frowned. He got up and dressed with a snap of his fingers. Striding out of his room, he made his way down to the enormous parlor towards the front of the palace. He stood in the doorway and crossed his arms. "I knew you would be up," he drawled.
The three siblings turned simultaneously to face the Goblin King. The tall one had a frown to match Jareth's, while the other two looked on impassively. "We're up because this is when it is natural for us to be awake."
"Well, must you give me nightmares so often? I've barely gotten a full hour of restful sleep since I arrived here."
The three brothers looked at each other. Morpheus' frown deepened as he responded, "We haven't sent you any dreams."
Icelus and Phantasus nodded in agreement. Jareth glared at them until the silence got uncomfortable.
Icelus finally spoke, saying, "I assure you cousin, we did not do it. There are more fae in control of dreams than the three of us. Besides, we're more in the prophecy dream business anyway. We don't mess with simple nightmares."
Jareth narrowed his eyes and Phantasus picked up the conversation, "Why Jareth? What kind of dreams have you been experiencing?" He looked slightly concerned and so the Goblin King gave in and told him of the nightmares of Sarah and her sudden death.
Now the three brothers were all looking grim. "The thing is, Jareth," Morpheus explained, "is that you are in our jurisdiction. We should be having complete control over your dreams but the nightmares you are describing... well, we would never have sent them. Humans experience things like that all the time but we fae have more control over our minds, it's the reason we have magical powers in the first place. You shouldn't have the nightmares unless either we sent them or you want them. Somehow, the control is being taken from you and you can't expel the thoughts that create normal, non-fae induced dreams. How long have you been having these dreams? Since you got here?"
Shrugging, he answered, "They've gotten worse here. But I've had them with increasing frequency over the last two hundred years. Ever since Sa-... she died."
Icelus turned pale, "That's not good Jareth. You should have come to us. I think... I think someone is trying to weaken your power... And it's working."
Phantasus agreed, "Do you have any idea who would be doing this?"
Jareth was shaking slightly as he answered negatively. All of his enemies were either dead or did not have the power to do this. He sat down in the nearest armchair and conjured a crystal, a nervous habit of his.
He looked into it. It didn't look as clear and beautiful as it once did.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The eyes watched him fall asleep and the young woman enter the parlor. She glanced around and then let her gaze rest upon the king.
The eyes narrowed as she bent over him and tenderly brushed away an errant hair on his forehead. She looked up sharply, as if she sensed that the eyes were upon her. Instead of investigating, she grabbed a book on the end table and darted out.
The owner of the eyes felt a sharp pang of jealousy.
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A/N: Another strange ending. Aren't I kind? R/R! Please!
Oh, and the three brothers are the Greek gods of dreams... FYI.
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Chapter 9:
Her fingers flew over the keys of the grand piano. She was happiest when here in this secluded little room in the castle. Probably why she was such a virtuoso. It was the one thing she held over all the other fae. They believed that since they could create a symphony with a small wave of the hand, then why should they exert time and energy to learning how to play just one instrument? Few agreed with the mortal way of making music. Apollo, a few of the Muses perhaps. But most regarded it as a waste of time.
Giselle paused in the middle of a phrase and stiffened. She had felt someone enter.
"Please, princess, don't stop on my account."
She turned to glare at the man who was invading her privacy. He was vaguely familiar and she realized with annoyance that he was one of the suitors. "Wonderful," she thought sarcastically, "now they've encroached upon my only refuge." After the laundry disaster, she was determined to ignore the suitors. It had been so humiliating to be reprimanded in front of those socially inferior men.
Noticing her silence and displeased look, he proceeded to seat himself in the large armchair next to the piano. He smiled at her and continued his request, "Please, it was quite wonderful. Could you play a bit more for me?"
Giselle frowned but turned to her music and began to perform for the gentleman. As she did, the princess thought of what an impertinent, pushy idiot he was. "On the other hand," she admitted silently, "he's quite handsome. And he isn't pestering me about my mother for once. Most do."
He leaned over and questioned her gently, "I suppose you hate all of us? The suitors I mean." He paused, "I'm sorry for trying to take your mother away."
She stopped abruptly and stared at him. She hadn't told anyone why she had been so difficult lately. Granted, it was not too hard to figure out but she had not thought anyone would even care to notice. He looked tired to her. Simply exhausted... and a little guilty.
The princess spoke for the first time since he had entered the room, "Thank you." She said it quietly but he understood how much his statement had meant to her. He smiled. She gave one in return. "Maybe this one isn't so bad," she thought.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
She had just stepped off the curb. Singing quietly, she began drifting across the little road on her way home. She barely noticed the car's tires screeching as it came around the corner. As it drew closer, going twice the speed limit, she turned and stood there in shock, her eyes going wide. And then everything went black.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jareth gasped for air and clutched at his chest. These nightmares were more terrifying than anything he had experienced in his two thousand-year existence. A thought struck him and he frowned. He got up and dressed with a snap of his fingers. Striding out of his room, he made his way down to the enormous parlor towards the front of the palace. He stood in the doorway and crossed his arms. "I knew you would be up," he drawled.
The three siblings turned simultaneously to face the Goblin King. The tall one had a frown to match Jareth's, while the other two looked on impassively. "We're up because this is when it is natural for us to be awake."
"Well, must you give me nightmares so often? I've barely gotten a full hour of restful sleep since I arrived here."
The three brothers looked at each other. Morpheus' frown deepened as he responded, "We haven't sent you any dreams."
Icelus and Phantasus nodded in agreement. Jareth glared at them until the silence got uncomfortable.
Icelus finally spoke, saying, "I assure you cousin, we did not do it. There are more fae in control of dreams than the three of us. Besides, we're more in the prophecy dream business anyway. We don't mess with simple nightmares."
Jareth narrowed his eyes and Phantasus picked up the conversation, "Why Jareth? What kind of dreams have you been experiencing?" He looked slightly concerned and so the Goblin King gave in and told him of the nightmares of Sarah and her sudden death.
Now the three brothers were all looking grim. "The thing is, Jareth," Morpheus explained, "is that you are in our jurisdiction. We should be having complete control over your dreams but the nightmares you are describing... well, we would never have sent them. Humans experience things like that all the time but we fae have more control over our minds, it's the reason we have magical powers in the first place. You shouldn't have the nightmares unless either we sent them or you want them. Somehow, the control is being taken from you and you can't expel the thoughts that create normal, non-fae induced dreams. How long have you been having these dreams? Since you got here?"
Shrugging, he answered, "They've gotten worse here. But I've had them with increasing frequency over the last two hundred years. Ever since Sa-... she died."
Icelus turned pale, "That's not good Jareth. You should have come to us. I think... I think someone is trying to weaken your power... And it's working."
Phantasus agreed, "Do you have any idea who would be doing this?"
Jareth was shaking slightly as he answered negatively. All of his enemies were either dead or did not have the power to do this. He sat down in the nearest armchair and conjured a crystal, a nervous habit of his.
He looked into it. It didn't look as clear and beautiful as it once did.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The eyes watched him fall asleep and the young woman enter the parlor. She glanced around and then let her gaze rest upon the king.
The eyes narrowed as she bent over him and tenderly brushed away an errant hair on his forehead. She looked up sharply, as if she sensed that the eyes were upon her. Instead of investigating, she grabbed a book on the end table and darted out.
The owner of the eyes felt a sharp pang of jealousy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Another strange ending. Aren't I kind? R/R! Please!
Oh, and the three brothers are the Greek gods of dreams... FYI.