Eight Years Later

Sensing one's own daughter is something difficult to explain. It works best to use the nose as a tool for this sensing, since the scent of one's child is unique and easy to recognize by the mother. So it was Sarah's scent that Linda sensed first and this is what drew her from her sleep and into clarity late that evening. It had been so long since she had thought of her, even though her photo stood framed on Linda's bedside table. She would be twenty-five now, right?

Linda, awake, peered through the darkness to look at that picture frame. The photo was one that Sarah had sent three years ago, of her, holding a degree in English Writing next to a proud looking Jareth. Linda had at first found the picture a bit shocking, and almost began a search to find Sarah again, since she was presumably in the mortal world. However, she realized soon after that the picture was fake, taken to soothe her now-husband's idea that Sarah was living with some reclusive millionaire. Jareth was a good liar. Jeremy bought that lie well and framed the picture for Linda to keep safe. Sometimes she found herself wondering about how they posed for that: whether Sarah was uncomfortable when it was taken, if the cap and gown she wore was comfortable or if it was itself fake too.

Through the dark she could see Sarah's smile, and feeling engulfed by the scent of her, reached out to touch the glass covering the picture. Coolness under her touch, yet she felt as though she could sense Sarah's warmth near her, carrying her scent on the wind to her. For the first time in a very long time, Linda felt entirely content. The smile on her daughter's photographed face may well have been stupidly false and unreal, but it was soothing to her eye. It was a fairytale to believe in beyond all others and it gave her the shallow comfort that she needed.

Their connection was severed, the bond between mother and child was lost now and Linda was glad of this. Linda had never truly wanted to be a mother anyway. And now the child was gone, finally after years of confusion and back and forths between the king of the goblins. She was finally at peace. The beautiful picture had sealed the deal; it was the affirmation that her responsibility was fulfilled. Now she could just be Linda. Linda with Jeremy.

No spoiled children to bother her.

Or so she thought.

But the child who was now no longer a child, the unreal in-between girl was standing in a convenient shadow, watching her mother quietly rejoice in losing her. It was an odd kind of terror, to see her own mom happy to see that she was no longer around, but Sarah was not very surprised. The woman in bed rolled over and clung to the man sleeping on the other side. The girl-woman in shadows took a cautious step forward and watched for a moment longer before shaking her head gently.

Sarah had been visiting all these years. Watching Linda, the actress get role after role, and perform them all well. Watching Jeremy pick a ring and ask her to marry him. Watching them live everyday as though nothing existed but them. It made her ache for love, made her wish she could make herself nightmare them into insanity… But she had to be good. As hard as that was, she knew that somewhere deep in her befuddled mind she needed to be good. It would be only too easy for her to send Linda the kinds of dreams that would make her insane. She could sense, when she first arrived at her mother's in secret, that Jarah had been there and tortured the spirit out of Linda. Sarah wouldn't dare touch her after the nightmares that Jarah had given her. It was time to leave her alone for good. She never deserved what torture she had been dealt.

"I loved you, Mom." She said meekly, before vanishing away.

She reappeared in a chamber that used to be hers, a place where she had once lived, in the aftermath of discovering her state as Jareth's prisoner. It had not changed much.

The ceiling was still aglow with crystals; the bed was in an unmade state of rumpled covers and violent disarray, as she had left it years ago when she had tried to run away home. Hair pins she had worn were still left on the vanity counter where she had dropped them, untouched.

The bathroom was a mess, the kind of happy mess that she had always kept her bathrooms in. Spilled soap and tooth brush still covered in unused paste. Her razor was sitting face up, the gel coating covered in layers of filmy dust. The mirror was a little dusty too, but one swift swipe from her hand cleared that away. She quickly looked away from her reflection and wandered back into her old room. The fireplace was cold and care, so she casually sent a small blue spark to the old wood that still sat there.

Its warmth was slow to rise but it was comfortable soon enough for her to relax into the chair that had once been Jareth's. Not long after she had settled a familiar voice spoke from the door.

"Yer majesty." Hoggle peered at her intently. The black cap he wore on his head slipped a little and he adjusted it.

"Yes?" She answered.

"Ye know he can probably feel ya." The dwarf entered the room slowly and with the kind of nervous tension of a cat in a new place. He, like Sarah, had not been here in many years.

"I know, Hoggle." She said, trying not to sound angry. But it was difficult to master a gentle tone when she felt a horrible, dark emotion rolling around inside of her.

Eight years and she was still having trouble mastering it.

"Shouldn't we leave?" He mumbled, obviously hurt by her sharp tone.

The queen shook her head and gestured for him to sit in the chair opposite her. The dwarf did and Sarah tried to smile at him.

"Now, Sarah, I know yer trying to be sweet, but that grin of yours is damn so identical to Jareth's that it is scary."

The smile dissipated and she looked glum.

"I'm sorry Hoggle." She said. "I can't ever seem to remember how to do things like I used to."

"At least ye don't eat raw meat no more." He smiled.

She winced and recalled the first two years of nightmare-rule, the years of raw birds and fish. Horror was an infection that she was not good at handling. It had taken her at least three years before she had actually changed her clothes from the swirling living garb that Jarah had been prone to wearing. She realized now that it was a nightmare essential. Mastering its permanent removal was an ordeal, but it was worth it now that she could wear jeans.

Hoggle was growing nervous. "He's going to come."

"Then let him. It's time that we spoke." She said sternly and this silenced the dwarf.

The two of them waited.

Meanwhile, Jareth was pacing. Crop at hand in case a wandering goblin wandered too near him, the king moved sullenly about the throne room, sensing a rippling disturbance and too anxious to seek it out. It was familiar in two ways: one, it smelled of nightmare. That super sweet and sugary scent, that was always on the edge of pleasant and disgusting. But mixed in with its content was the miraculous hint of the woman. She was a woman now right? Mortals aged beyond his understanding, and Jareth had made enough mistakes in thinking she was ready for him to pursue her.

He was certain now that she was beyond his reach now. He did not even know if she was still in any part Sarah still. He wandered with the smell of her drawing him place to place. He came upon the trick chamber door to her room. Here the smell was the strongest.

He pressed his face against the wood. The texture became clearer to him, his senses so strong that even behind the smooth ridges of wood he could feel the warmth of life. It moved, drawing the warm smells of Sarah closer to him.

And they were only a door away from each other. He pressed his hands up against the wood, searching through the wood to find her mirrored warmth. He found her hands, near her cheek.

On the other side Sarah was pressed up against the door. Like Jareth, she could sense his warmth and his touch through the door. But she could no more make herself open the door than he could. They were each suspended, a wall of wood between them, passing their warmth back and forth in gentle waves.

"Sarah." Hoggle spoke in a dangerous whisper because he could see three bright tears draw marble-clear lines down her pale face. She did not move to clean them up.

Instead she turned and kissed the door where she could sense Jareth's cheek was. On the other side he could feel this gentle impression and a sweet fire shot through him.

He drew the door open.

But no one was there.

He stepped into the chamber and found nothing under the glow of the crystals. Only the hard memories, raw as though they were fresh wounds. But twinkling against the stone floor he could see three hard stones, clear as glass and speckled with salt stain. He gathered them up and realizing what they were, raised them to hold them in his mouth. He could taste her sadness as they dissolved in his mouth, making him wish he had only tasted one at a time to make the sorrow last longer. He left before letting himself feel pain, locking the door to the bedroom as he left so no one, true Sarah or mocking poltergeist, could tempt his heart again.

Hoggle was confused as he followed Sarah down the maw-like hallway of her cave-dwelling. Her back was turned and she walked swiftly as though she was angry. The dwarf was not sure if he should say anything, but he made a point of sending some of the nightmare folk running with cold, blue stares. It had taken time, but Sarah had appointed Hoggle as her second in command, and the folk of the dark lands had protested this idea for quite a while. Eventually Sarah had gained loyalty and with that Hoggle had power. He was the first person citizens went to if they wanted something. Sarah was rarely bothered.

She paused in her walk in the hallway, her eyes flaring in a familiar way. She momentarily vanished. When she reappeared seconds later, her face blank, Hoggle patted her hand gently. Regardless of how many years she had been queen, she was sometimes still disturbed by the requirements of her job. Most nightmares were sent by crystals. But a few particular dreams, the special ones, required Sarah's own presence.

"Was it a bad one?" Hoggle asked.

"They all are." The young woman turned and started walking again. But Hoggle was void of his patience now.

"Sarah, why did we go there?"

The queen stopped and eyed him from behind a curtain of her hair. Her black eyes rolled in her head a little, like a crabby teenager.

"I missed him." She said.

"Yer torturing him." He snapped.

"Why the concern?" She tilted her head.

No matter how much Hoggle loved his dear friend, her transformation left her the most horrifying creature he had ever looked upon. Her temper had shortened, her mood had grown somber, and she walked on the edge of anger so often now that he had on more than one occasion had to run for his life. He couldn't blame her; she had not asked for this curse. And she did everything she could to regain the self she had lost.

"Ya should stop hurting him." He said.

"If it weren't for him I would be mortal now. Maybe married. College…" Her voice fumbled and stopped altogether. A lot of their conversations were like that, it was the only way that Sarah could curb her temper.

"You love him."

Her hands rolled into tight fists.

"You love him."

Her hands relaxed. "I'm the perfect example of Stockholm syndrome." She grumbled.

"Huh?"

She shook her head and stalked away, but Hoggle let himself smile slightly. A little bit of the real Sarah had come through the haunt.

It was happening every day now, little moments of the true Sarah coming through the shadow of her renewed soul soaked in scares. She was coming back now and he was relieved.

Now if only she could just kiss the damn goblin king already.

Stubborn people. Almost done friends. I hope this has a happy ending… Review! And get ready because the final chapter comes tomorrow...