Chapter Fifteen: "I Know Who You Are..."

Jareth clenched his teeth, his changeling eyes frozen upon the horrendous scene
unfurling within the magical body of the crystal orb. The magical sphere rested lightly
upon his lithe hand, revolving ever so slowly. Within its misty depths, flashed the tattered,
wet, and soiled figure of a young woman, clothed in a ballgown that had once been an
elegant crimson shade. However, now it had dulled to a strange muddy collage of debris,
lacking quite a bit of the original fabric, which had ripped off through the night escapades.

The crystal had shown him quite easily what had lured Sarah from Fontridge, at
the moment when she had been so very close. Her emotional walls tumbling beneath the
weight of heated conflicts and a battered psyche, had nearly let loose the original bright
imagination and fantasy driven spirit that she had shut away. Jareth could almost reach
out, with one leather clad hand, and brush his fingertips across the iridescent soul hovering
so near to the realm of fantasy and dreams.

However, it had been for naught. The damned beast, who had been doomed for
ages already, had resurfaced and drawn Sarah, unknowingly, into the unforgiving forest.
The ruins would soon lure her further, closer to a truth that needed to remain hidden,
deeply at that.

Jareth clutched his other hand tightly into a fist and slammed it down upon the arm
of his throne. The entire room seemed to shake at his might, and several wandering
goblins cowered in darkened corners, reliving past days of torment they had faced at the
hand of the angered king.

With a single flick of his wrist, the crystal dissipated to nothingness, leaving his
palm bare. He sat, paused in the midst of raising from the throne to act upon some
spontaneous decision that had been formed in the heat of his fury, and waited to calm. To
act without thought would be the gravest mistake, and would cast away what scant chance
remained to bring her back, to take her home.

Sarah's entity, the entire dreamer's soul that she held in the hardened human
carcass, that was what he fought for. Even while she believed herself to be winning,
perhaps nearly triumphing over the demon which grew within her, Jareth could see her
straggling behind. Yet, she would accept no aid from him, and would not use the gift he
had granted upon her. Although the latter had been done without any knowledge on
Sarah's part.

With that final lingering thought, a brief whispered wish, darkened by hate and
uncontrollable loss, drifted past his ears. She had said something, following her frantic
dash from those callous actors with whom she chose to remain, and her unfortunate fall.
He lingered on it briefly, and then, without warning, tasted the words as he uttered them
with his own richly accented voice.

"You want them to suffer as you have, Sarah?" Jareth asked carefully and then
allowed a smile to cross his aquiline features.

He, at last, allowed himself to vacate the comfort of his throne. Such a wish as
that could not be easily passed up and, with her further delving into secrets usually hidden
within her soul, so she would become easier to harness, and reclaim as his own. The one
that had so stolen his soul, had also been the only one to stride defiantly from his world,
and back to her own.

"Sarah, we will not be away from each other much longer," Jareth whispered, and
he allowed laughter to grace the throne room.

All the goblins at once turned to face the king, glad to see him in such elated
moods. They at once, obediently, joined in with the mirth, adding their own hallow
giggles to Jareth's rich voice. They continued far after Jareth had left, and still chuckled
briefly when they had forgotten what had incited the pleasant mood. Then, at last, the
goblins stopped.

Jareth, however, had other duties to attend to. He walked, though his strides were
brisk and lengthy, offering the illusion of a jog. In only a few short moments, he reached
the window, and, leaping in a fury of his black leather cape, emerged a different form
altogether. With a few powerful beats of his now feathered wings, Jareth surged into the
darkened sky.

Overhead, it seemed, that a storm had begun to brew...

* * * * * * * *

Gabrielle walked silently down the darkened hallway, listening in fear as the storm
raged on outside. The lights had failed, leaving the entire mansion dismal, and black as
pitch. The only illumination now, was offered by the scintillating candlestick, resting atop
the golden saucer, which Gabby held.

Her hands shook, which did not help the current state of the flickering flame. As it
was, only the briefest area was lit by orange light. Nonetheless, the scant amount of
highlights, were enough to cast strange shadows and form wraith-like apparitions.
Gabrielle shivered and wrapped her free arm about her waist.

"Sarah?" the young fiery haired woman called, though her voice lacked any
stentorian qualities.

There was, of course, no answer to her grievous calls into the dark abyss of
nothingness which laid directly ahead. Only when the candle light grew near enough, did
Gabrielle see what waited for her. Once again, the unnerving thoughts attacked her
frightened soul. It was not intelligent to be out, when such a storm reaped control over
the sky, and electricity.

A series of strange, gagging noises, followed by a scuffle, as if someone was
fighting with another, drifted through the inky blackness. Gabrielle gasped, and spun
around, facing a door, opened only slightly. It gave way into a well lit room, filled with
orange glows from dozens of burning candles.

"Hello?" Gabby asked, placing a shaking hand atop the smooth wood that had
been crafted into this oversized door.

Once again, no one responded to her voice, nor did they regard her presence with
their own. However, Gabrielle still, persistent as always, forged her way onward and
swung open the door. It moved without a touch of resistance, and instantly revealed a
room, much like the one in which Gabby herself resided, for the time being.

Gabrielle peered around the door frame, but still saw no one inside who could have
possibly made the noise. Still, she was not quite prepared to venture into the darkness
once more, having finally found solace in the well lit chamber. The bed itself looked
comforting, though the lack of any and all other people attacked her already heightened
nerves.

Gabrielle strolled into the room, glancing momentarily at the fluttering drapes,
which promptly laid flat against the closed window. She stopped, not sure whether
continuing into the odd room had been her most intelligent decision. The gauzy drapes
were merely an addition to the entire unnerving essence that captured the whole dwelling.

"Sarah, Peter? Anyone...?" Gabrielle asked, circling about as she spoke.

Her voice came out as a mere whisper, nothing that anyone would ever hear,
unless they had been standing at her side. Gooseflesh broke out upon her arms, and her
neck crawled with a shivering tingle. The chamber had suddenly dropped in temperature,
leaving her literally struck by an ice-encrusted chill.

Somewhere in the distance, although it was impossible to tell in Fontridge's vast
expanse, a high-pitched scream drove through the thick blackness as a knife through
butter. Gabrielle jumped, nearly losing her precarious grip on sanity, and the guttering
candle at the same time. Her heart erupted into overwhelming palpitations which
succeeded in gracing her with a nauseous feeling.

"God," Gabby remarked, and instantly spun from her position before the drapes, to
run from the accursed room.

In only two brief steps, and not barely enough time to glance at the sudden
impenetrable force which pushed her back, Gabrielle found herself on her back, the candle
laying beside her. Her crowning locks of red hair framed her ashen face. Wide eyes, the
color of emeralds, instantly snapped open to acknowledge who had thrown her to the
ground.

Her lips trembled, and she shook her head, trying in desperation to make her way
from this mysterious dark shape. She scrabbled backwards, all the while clutching for a
hand hold, a weapon for defense, anything that could aid her in her vulnerable situation.
However, her grasping palms found only smooth, bare wooden floor, waxed to a shining
perfection and occasionally graced with a navy or hunter rug.

"Please," Gabby whispered, warm tears finding their ways to her brightened green
eyes.

The figure stopped, and cocked its head to one side, as if regarding this being at its
feet for what she was, a human. The velvet hood that rested over the dark one's face, was
gracefully guided off, to reveal the monster that Gabby now faced.

However, she was taken aback at the sight which befell her. A monster was not
displayed before her, but rather an angel, or a Fae king at the very least. His blonde locks
of hair hung about his noble face. Surely a more beautiful man had never been born.
Momentarily Gabrielle was devoid of her original fear, as she basked in this stranger's
utter glory.

"Gabrielle, come with me," the radiant being stated, holding out a gloved hand.

She gazed up into his eyes, captivated by their contrasting shades. One was of the
truest sapphire, as if constructed from a spring sky, or the clearest lake; the other
enveloped by brazen fire, crimson highlights, and mysterious chestnut depths. They
possessed more magic than any fairy story that Gabrielle had ever dared to read, and also
held such an alluring captivity. Never had her childhood bed time tales told of such sexual
appeal, that was possessed by this magical man.

Without a single moment of hesitation, Gabrielle raised up from her position upon
the floor, and took the Fae's hand. He smiled, now offering more of his true mischievous
characteristics as the grin passed over his regal features. Gabby backed away, pulling a bit
at their interlocked hands. She had not known, and now it was too late.

"No....I know who you are," Gabby whispered, her mouth slack and her eyes
covered in a thick shield of utter horror.

Jareth allowed the smug grin to toy with her emotions, if only for the briefest time.
Then, he leaned in, closer. Far too close to resist. The woman was without the ability to
speak, to form coherent thoughts, much less tell of his true identity. He brushed his
gloved hand across her creamy skin, and then brought his mouth beside her ear.

"My dear, you have no idea who I am," Jareth stated and then produced a perfect
sparkling orb from the air.

He offered it to Gabrielle, who took the present silently. As a lamb, meek and
trusting. Such sweet innocence, and such an easy spirit to win over, captivate with a few
choice endearing motions. If only Sarah had been so simple.

No, it would not have enticed him as much, had she groveled at his feet much the
same as most young women who happened into his presence. His strange alluring nature
drove them to the brink of sanity, encompassed entirely with pure animal desires. Many
he had taken in that form, and many more would come, of that he was certain. However,
it was the one he yearned to have under his control. The one who had escaped him.

Gabrielle's expression went blank as she gazed into the flickering orb. Her eyes
glazed and she fell against Jareth's strong shoulder. However, not once did her gaze
falter, but rather remained fixed and blank. She was in the daydream, in the world he had
crafted with delicate dream-woven fantasies.

Jareth guided her to the bed, covered in a silken comforter, and set the comatose
woman atop the downy mattress. She would not wake, nor would she stir until he so
allowed it. Jareth allowed a bitter smile to cover his thin lips and then turned, to gaze
into the darkness. Soon the storm would end, and the lights would return, and most
would believe everything returned to normal.

In an eruption of faint trickling purple light, Gabby's figure faded away. The
comforter still held the slight impression of a body, which had only just rested atop the
bed. Now, however, the only thing left was a pellucid outline, drifting through the
shimmering violet highlights.

Then, as if nothing had ever happened in that room, the entire fantastic incantation
ceased to exist. It very nearly fell in on itself, as if rushing through some invisible opening
in reality to the realms of the Underground. Gabrielle too, had disappeared with the violet
illumination. A scant drifting touch of crushed crystals and other precious gems covered
the floor, and the bed, making it seem as if someone had sprayed the entire place with
handfuls of glitter.

Jareth could nearly see the young woman, now laying in one of the chambers in his
expansive castle. She would be in the daydream still, overcome by hopelessly intertwined
spells that took control of her fragile human mind.

He laughed at this and then glided, like a ghost, out the door and into the black
hallway.

Sarah had received her wish, at least partly. He could not take them all, though he
certainly wished that that could be done. Without the actors, there would be no play, and
Sarah would never receive her most intimate, innermost fantasy. Jareth paused in the
darkness, almost questioning what he had done, and then shook the doubt away with a
sweep of his hand. It was not time to reconsider, but rather to act.

The torpid mortals deserved not his kindness, but rather his actions had all been
done for Sarah, for her wish, and for that alluring light that flickered still in her darkened
soul. He reached out for her, but found nothing, only that of the storm and the ruins
which she now approached, apprehension devoid from her imaginative mind.

"Beware of what you find, my dear," Jareth stated somberly and then abruptly
continued on down the hall, his leather cape flowing behind his rapid movements.

A gust of wind struck the mansion, whistling and moaning through small drafty
areas, which could not be helped in the old estate. The storm had reached its zenith,
poised directly above Fontridge, as if directing the assault upon the forsaken place.
However, the calm would soon follow, leaving nerves near an exploding point....

...and three people missing.