Chapter Twenty-Nine: Where the Future Lays
In the midst of ancient trees, and bathing white light, offered by the crystal moon
overhead, two breathless survivors struggled into the clearing. One, her hair matted about
her sweaty face, and her body exhausted; the other was in immense pain, and caked blood
stained his garments. They collapsed beside each other on the forest floor, near to a small
brook, babbling in the night.
Sarah looked at Jareth, at the crimson stains and sighed deeply. There was little
she could do to help. She tore a scrap of material from her dress, the costume which she
had worn for the play rehearsal. It was hard to remember that far back, to think of what
had occurred before... even though only a few hours had passed.
She dipped the fabric into the cool, refreshing water and then turned to Jareth, her
face solemn with intent. He obediently removed the once creamy-colored poet's shirt,
wincing in pain. He was not healing as quickly as he generally did, which led Jareth to
believe that the injuries had been worse than originally thought.
Sarah scooted in closer, and dabbed at the wounds. They went so very deep,
piercing nearly through his entire shoulder, and another against the side of his abdomen.
Numerous lacerations ran down the length of his chest. Still, his hands were the worst,
and Sarah carefully turned each over, so she could look at the damage inflicted upon his
palms.
It appeared almost like a stigmata. The wounds drilled through the entire
thickness of his hand, and still oozed a small amount of crimson blood. She dabbed it,
noting Jareth biting back yelps of agony as the water trickled into his injuries. She
wrapped the cleaned hand with the fabric. Sarah then tore another length of her dress,
wetted it, and bandaged his other hand in the same fashion.
Jareth tenderly reached out, tapping her chin, so that she turned her face upwards,
and looked at him. Sarah was so lovely, especially in the moonlight, her hair allowed to
run free, and her soul finally open again, devoid of the dark carcass that had threatened to
overcome it. This was the woman he had loved for so long in silence.
"You cannot remain here," Jareth finally stated.
Sarah was taken aback. She gasped, shaking her head in firm denial. She could
never return to the mortal realm, not after realizing all she needed with Jareth, not after
everything that had happened, all she had lost... There was no way she could live! She
almost voiced her argument before his finger pressed against her full, pink lips.
"You know already, Sarah, in your heart, where your future lies," Jareth defended
himself, still forbidding her to argue with anything that he said.
She shook her head, warm tears welling in her deep chestnut eyes. Her future was
with Jareth, as it always had been. Even when she had tried to leave, had attempted to
start anew, his life had intermingled with her own in a hopeless knot. She could not be
free of him, and so could not leave him again.
He drew her close to him, wrapping his arms around her hitching body. She
sobbed against his shoulder, her tears raining down upon his wound. Jareth ignored the
pain, and soothed her tenderly, running his hands across her back with the gentleness of....
Sarah sniffed briefly and drew her head up, so as to look at him. She found her
love welling, overflowing, much the same as the tears. She kissed his cheek, tracing her
finger along his aquiline features. Jareth held her closer, his hands becoming more rough,
as need overwhelmed them both.
They seemed to forget the impending doom, which as they rested, moved from the
castle, out to find the two whom had escaped. Although, in the depths of the ancient
forest, it would take longer than a single dark night to find Sarah or Jareth. This offered
them time, which seemed so very scarce as of late.
"With you, Jareth, always with you," she whispered as his lips traced a burning
path down her neck.
With a single deft touch of his tongue against the hallow of her throat, Sarah's
entire being erupted into an electrical charge, and he had yet to lay those sculpted lips
against her own. With delicate, baby soft hands he took Sarah's face and gently lifted her
chin upwards, as if inspecting the length and contour of her neck. Then, he bent in and at
once she fell utterly in love.
Emotions she still had yet to experience exploded from all corners of her soul... her
mind and entire psyche, realms beyond comprehension of realistic and accepted science.
She literally burst with pleasure, that broke apart boundaries set by life, and time and
countless miles delved through reality to reach this fantasy world. His sweet lips, were so
warm and intoxicating, and Sarah could only wish that she could remain forever.
His tongue separated her full lips, now searching to deepen the kiss with every
passing heartbeat. And Sarah could feel his breaths against her own, intermingling their
air between their bodies, channeling together the young woman (innocence at last broken
beyond any form of repair or comprehension) from the mortal realm, and a denounced
King.
Hunger invaded every sense, taste, touch, sight, sound...scent. Jareth's scent of
light magic and musky afterglow of perspiration, shed during the coarse of the battle and
escape, nearly drove her mad. Her shivers erupted into gooseflesh, which the probing
kisses did nothing to contain.
Jareth broke their kiss and brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing her soft palm,
lightly touching the sensitive skin with his tongue. Sarah rolled her head back, hating this
constant teasing, and begging for him to continue, to stop toying with these feelings.
He ran his warm hands around her ribcage, to rest along her spine, and graciously
unzipped the dress. It slipped seductively lower, bearing her body before Jareth's wild
gaze. She guided the heavy garment completely off, then sat before him once more,
wearing now only her underclothes.
A flashback, which lasted but a few seconds struck Jareth at the sight which laid
before him. A young woman, breathtakingly beautiful, sitting before a small brook, with
white cloth gracing her lovely figure. Sarah looked so very much like Emelia, as if the
two could have easily been twins.
He shook the images from his mind and then slipped forward once more. Her
body pressed against his, driving primal needs of passion into his every thought, dispelling
any lingering memories of Emelia. It was best that way, to leave the past where it should
have been originally.
So Jareth laid her back, and kissed her lovely face, his hands decloaking her
entirely. With what felt like only a few fleeting moments, the constriction of fabric was
devoid from both of their bodies, and needs of the flesh prevailed.
Out in the distance, nearer than one would have imagined, came sounds of others
stamping through the thick woods. Their torches lit the night around them in an eerie
orange illumination. Seated upon a majestic roan, Nicholas led the search, his pale blue
eyes scanning the forest for signs of his brother and the mortal woman.
That night, there would be revenge!
* * * * * * * *
Sarah slipped into an exhausted sleep, cradled by Jareth's arms. In her slumber,
though it was restful, she found herself placed in a dream, the first in quite some time. She
stood in Fontridge once again, though there was no terror associated with the Manor any
longer. Instead she felt at home in the massive confines of the mansion, as she looked
upon lovely tapestries and equally stunning portraits.
Then, as if sneaking in on the slight breeze, which caught Sarah's mane of brunette
hair, came the softest laughter. It was something Sarah had not heard in so long, that it
very nearly shocked her. She rushed to the open window, perhaps believing that the
sound had come from outside.
She scanned the grounds, noting nothing out of the ordinary. She very well would
have turned then, had she not been driven to gaze further away.... nearly out of her sight.
She craned her head out of the window, and looked down towards the stable, the stable
which housed but one horse.
The lovely steed was out, perhaps for the first time in its long life, and by its side
was none other than Emelia. She patted the horse's noble head and then laughed once
more. The soft blue dress she had worn the first time Sarah had seen her, was now
exchanged for one in the purest of whites.
Emelia turned her joyful gaze towards the window, and Sarah. She raised one
delicate hand and waved, just slightly. In the other hand was a beautiful white rose, which
Emelia had, seemingly, plucked from the stallions' flowing raven mane.
"Thank you," Emelia whispered, though her voice did not come entirely from her,
but instead from all around Sarah.
Sarah smiled, and then waved back at Emelia, a broad grin upon both girls' faces.
Emelia had come to say good-bye. She was now able to leave, to go "home" and break
the bonds which tied her to the body of that spirit horse. Still, it made no sense for Emelia
to be with the black stallion, who most assuredly was no ghost.
As if cued the lovely, ebony steed broke from Emelia's side and raced around the
yard, pausing at the peak of one slightly raised hill of the grounds. He reared, flipping
back his flowing mane in that moment of regal and stunning stature. He was utterly
breathtaking, a wild thing that had been forced to remain captive for far too long.
Then the dream began to break apart, leaving only the horse to trot around in
darkness, his elongated strides spanning nothing in several quick pumps of his muscular
legs. Sarah felt detached, as if she had left this world, but still watched the steed as he
enjoyed the freedom.
However, without warning, the horse also faded away, blending into the blackness
which had already completely surrounding him. Sarah found nothing staring back at her,
only dark. Her mind instantly was overcome with panic, having become trapped in the
horrifying bleak surroundings.
With a start she snapped open her eyes, and sat bolt upright, startling Jareth at her
side. He instantly rose with her, prepared to run as he, perhaps, feared the approach of his
brother and the royal guards. Yet, the forest was still and quiet in the twilight, with only
the lonely hoot of some faraway owl. Jareth turned to look at Sarah, and placed a chilled
hand on her shivering arms.
"It's freezing," she whispered, trying to force the fear that had just subsided within
her, completely away.
Jareth did not dare to mention what had just occurred, for he already knew that
she had dreamed. Her dreams would constantly scare her, and that could have very well
been his fault. He had invaded her subconscious to return Sarah to what she had always
been... but now it seemed that she had suffered from his offensive techniques.
"It is just as well that we continue on," Jareth remarked lightly and then slowly
rose to his feet.
His wounds had improved dramatically overnight, during the few hours that they
had rested. Still, they stood out in horrible shades of red, which forced Sarah to worry
about a possible infection. Jareth was immortal, but it seemed that since he was harmed at
the hands of his son, that power had been depleted quite a bit.
He produced a single crystal, and stood as the light bathed him completely. In a
scant second he was entirely clothed, in garments which were not stained nor torn in the
least. Sarah herself found that she was dressed as well, and done so more realistically than
the costume she had been forced to wear throughout their flee from the castle and the
guards.
"Come, dear Sarah," Jareth whispered, and reached out to take her hand into his
own.
She did as he asked, and moved in to kiss his lips tenderly. Her heart brimmed
with love, an emotion she had believed to be completely gone from her body, something
she could have not felt anymore, had it not been for this magical man. Jareth merely
smiled in response, but there was something hidden behind his carefully created mask of
indifference, some feeling which shone in the deepest areas of his mismatched and intense
eyes.
The moment was broken quite suddenly, without warning of any kind. All around
the two, from every side, came sounds of approaching danger. Voices called in, laughter
followed, and through it all came the tell-tale sound of one Fae King, nearly screaming at
his brother.
"Jareth, you cannot escape me, give up!" Nicholas demanded, his laughter
encasing his words in haughty overtones.
Jareth backed away, still clutching Sarah's hand so very tightly. Her widened, and
terrified eyes scanned their possible routes of escape, but found no hope. They were
completely surrounded. Their decision to stop for rest, and remain so long, had been their
downfall. Now, the consequences would be dealt out.
"No argument, Sarah, you must leave me!" Jareth demanded, backing them into
the center of the ever shrinking ring of unseen guards, surrounding them from all sides.
Sarah stopped moving with the Goblin King, and ripped her hand away from him.
He also halted, fixing her with his eyes that burned deeply, telling her that there was to be
no discussion over the matter. She would leave, and he would remain, to face this mob,
and quite possibly his death as well.
"Jareth," Sarah whispered, and moved in closer, her chocolate eyes pooling with
salty tears.
He sighed deeply and then, with a slight flourish of magic, produced a single,
perfect orb, which he held up at eye level, so that both could gaze into its misty body.
Sarah averted her eyes towards her lover, her would-be enemy of old, and then shook her
head ever so slowly.
He dared another single step, and then ceased his advancement. The crack of a
twig, only a few feet behind, signaled the attack. He rushed towards her, gathering her
weakened body into his powerful embrace, and kissed her lips breathlessly. She felt the
spherical crystal against her cheek, and tried desperately to brush it away, so as to remain
by his side through it all.
"Do not fear that we will never meet again, Sarah. You will know if I survive.
Now take heed!" he warned, gripping her so tightly as she sobbed against him, having
gone limp in his arms.
He pushed her away, just as the armed guards rushed from their foliage defense.
The crystal was thrown from his hand, and erupted about Sarah, bathing her in the magical
spell, before the incoming mercenaries could take her captive. She saw no more, as the
incantation fell over her eyes, turning everything dark.
She sobbed, near hysterics, with the final image of those hundreds of men, with
weapons, rushing towards Jareth, emblazoned in her mind. It was not until her sense of
touch began to return, that she slowed her flow of tears, and allowed several hitched
breaths to break through her emotions.
It felt wet, damp really... and some texture that was so shockingly familiar. Sarah
moved her hands, allowing the material to thread through her fingers, and tickle her
sensitive palms.
"Grass," her mind whispered, recalling the sensation she had experienced the night
prior, basking in the dew-covered grass with Jareth at her side.
Another tear graced her silken cheek at the thought of the Goblin King, and the
fate he would face. Death would lay in the near future.... all because of her. Sarah sobbed
slightly, but reminded herself about what he had said... about the promise he had made.
Perhaps, there had been a slight chance of his escape.... perhaps.
She slowly allowed her red, irritated eyes to open, squinting at the onslaught of
sunshine that beat upon her. She turned her face against the grass, taking in the scent of
damp soil, and everything else that was associated with nature. She managed a slight
smile, and then lifted her face towards the blue sky overhead.
The day had never been more beautiful, nor the sky more blue. It seemed almost
as if the world was rejoicing for one reason or another. It was like a new start at life, a
chance at a new beginning, one that was not doomed to be overshadowed by a hidden
past.
"I'll wait, Jareth," Sarah whispered as she gazed into the sky and allowed her smile
to broaden considerably.
Then another scent invaded her senses, one that clashed against this lovely day
completely. Sarah rose a bit more, so that she was sitting, and looked off into the
distance. The woods were in the distance, but nearer were the wrought iron gates that
Sarah had seen when first entering Fontridge Manor. That would mean, that the grass she
now sat upon, was the grounds for the mansion.
She swiveled around and gasped. The entire place, the lovely grand old house was
awash in flames, licking across its entire expanse. The lovely ornate doors, which were so
very massive, had fallen in, and Sarah could almost see inside, to the large greeting room.
Thick, billowing smoke erupted into the blue sky, and rained ashes down all around, some
drifting near to where Sarah now sat.
"Sarah!!" came the frantic voice from somewhere nearby.
She did not remove her eyes from the scene of destruction. It hurt her, somewhere
deep inside, to see the ancient Manor devoured by the hungry flames. However, she knew
that it had to happen. Too many tears had been shed in Fontridge, and so many countless
secrets were still hidden in its ever faithful twists and turns.
Suddenly arms wrapped around Sarah, and she found herself completely bowled
over. A weight fell against her side, and mirthful laughter covered all else. At last Sarah
looked to see who had called her, and her face lit up in unexpected joy. She returned the
elated embrace and then added her own giggles.
"Gabrielle! Where, I thought....," Sarah could not finish, but instead hugged her
friend once more.
Gabrielle turned to look at the mansion, and sighed deeply. The redhead, of
course, did not know the truth behind the fire. Sarah doubted if Gabrielle even recalled
being taken by Jareth... The thought struck suddenly in Sarah's mind, and she was led to
wonder if this was Jareth's sign. However, she doubted it.
"Gabby, Sarah?" two disoriented voices called.
Soon two others had joined the friends. Sarah recognized them as the other
missing actresses. They were in tears and Gabrielle hugged them both, trying to soothe
them in their emotional distress. Sarah herself, broke away from the three, and rose to her
feet, still in awe over the immense fire and the flames which seemed so very much alive.
During it all, she could almost hear a musical laughter, coming from the house, and
Sarah listened. Before her eyes she saw the faintest silver luminess of a young girl, taking
hold of a boy's hands and leading him into the woods, as they danced and laughed
playfully.
"It ends, as it began," Sarah whispered to herself and then returned to see
Gabrielle.
In the midst of ancient trees, and bathing white light, offered by the crystal moon
overhead, two breathless survivors struggled into the clearing. One, her hair matted about
her sweaty face, and her body exhausted; the other was in immense pain, and caked blood
stained his garments. They collapsed beside each other on the forest floor, near to a small
brook, babbling in the night.
Sarah looked at Jareth, at the crimson stains and sighed deeply. There was little
she could do to help. She tore a scrap of material from her dress, the costume which she
had worn for the play rehearsal. It was hard to remember that far back, to think of what
had occurred before... even though only a few hours had passed.
She dipped the fabric into the cool, refreshing water and then turned to Jareth, her
face solemn with intent. He obediently removed the once creamy-colored poet's shirt,
wincing in pain. He was not healing as quickly as he generally did, which led Jareth to
believe that the injuries had been worse than originally thought.
Sarah scooted in closer, and dabbed at the wounds. They went so very deep,
piercing nearly through his entire shoulder, and another against the side of his abdomen.
Numerous lacerations ran down the length of his chest. Still, his hands were the worst,
and Sarah carefully turned each over, so she could look at the damage inflicted upon his
palms.
It appeared almost like a stigmata. The wounds drilled through the entire
thickness of his hand, and still oozed a small amount of crimson blood. She dabbed it,
noting Jareth biting back yelps of agony as the water trickled into his injuries. She
wrapped the cleaned hand with the fabric. Sarah then tore another length of her dress,
wetted it, and bandaged his other hand in the same fashion.
Jareth tenderly reached out, tapping her chin, so that she turned her face upwards,
and looked at him. Sarah was so lovely, especially in the moonlight, her hair allowed to
run free, and her soul finally open again, devoid of the dark carcass that had threatened to
overcome it. This was the woman he had loved for so long in silence.
"You cannot remain here," Jareth finally stated.
Sarah was taken aback. She gasped, shaking her head in firm denial. She could
never return to the mortal realm, not after realizing all she needed with Jareth, not after
everything that had happened, all she had lost... There was no way she could live! She
almost voiced her argument before his finger pressed against her full, pink lips.
"You know already, Sarah, in your heart, where your future lies," Jareth defended
himself, still forbidding her to argue with anything that he said.
She shook her head, warm tears welling in her deep chestnut eyes. Her future was
with Jareth, as it always had been. Even when she had tried to leave, had attempted to
start anew, his life had intermingled with her own in a hopeless knot. She could not be
free of him, and so could not leave him again.
He drew her close to him, wrapping his arms around her hitching body. She
sobbed against his shoulder, her tears raining down upon his wound. Jareth ignored the
pain, and soothed her tenderly, running his hands across her back with the gentleness of....
Sarah sniffed briefly and drew her head up, so as to look at him. She found her
love welling, overflowing, much the same as the tears. She kissed his cheek, tracing her
finger along his aquiline features. Jareth held her closer, his hands becoming more rough,
as need overwhelmed them both.
They seemed to forget the impending doom, which as they rested, moved from the
castle, out to find the two whom had escaped. Although, in the depths of the ancient
forest, it would take longer than a single dark night to find Sarah or Jareth. This offered
them time, which seemed so very scarce as of late.
"With you, Jareth, always with you," she whispered as his lips traced a burning
path down her neck.
With a single deft touch of his tongue against the hallow of her throat, Sarah's
entire being erupted into an electrical charge, and he had yet to lay those sculpted lips
against her own. With delicate, baby soft hands he took Sarah's face and gently lifted her
chin upwards, as if inspecting the length and contour of her neck. Then, he bent in and at
once she fell utterly in love.
Emotions she still had yet to experience exploded from all corners of her soul... her
mind and entire psyche, realms beyond comprehension of realistic and accepted science.
She literally burst with pleasure, that broke apart boundaries set by life, and time and
countless miles delved through reality to reach this fantasy world. His sweet lips, were so
warm and intoxicating, and Sarah could only wish that she could remain forever.
His tongue separated her full lips, now searching to deepen the kiss with every
passing heartbeat. And Sarah could feel his breaths against her own, intermingling their
air between their bodies, channeling together the young woman (innocence at last broken
beyond any form of repair or comprehension) from the mortal realm, and a denounced
King.
Hunger invaded every sense, taste, touch, sight, sound...scent. Jareth's scent of
light magic and musky afterglow of perspiration, shed during the coarse of the battle and
escape, nearly drove her mad. Her shivers erupted into gooseflesh, which the probing
kisses did nothing to contain.
Jareth broke their kiss and brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing her soft palm,
lightly touching the sensitive skin with his tongue. Sarah rolled her head back, hating this
constant teasing, and begging for him to continue, to stop toying with these feelings.
He ran his warm hands around her ribcage, to rest along her spine, and graciously
unzipped the dress. It slipped seductively lower, bearing her body before Jareth's wild
gaze. She guided the heavy garment completely off, then sat before him once more,
wearing now only her underclothes.
A flashback, which lasted but a few seconds struck Jareth at the sight which laid
before him. A young woman, breathtakingly beautiful, sitting before a small brook, with
white cloth gracing her lovely figure. Sarah looked so very much like Emelia, as if the
two could have easily been twins.
He shook the images from his mind and then slipped forward once more. Her
body pressed against his, driving primal needs of passion into his every thought, dispelling
any lingering memories of Emelia. It was best that way, to leave the past where it should
have been originally.
So Jareth laid her back, and kissed her lovely face, his hands decloaking her
entirely. With what felt like only a few fleeting moments, the constriction of fabric was
devoid from both of their bodies, and needs of the flesh prevailed.
Out in the distance, nearer than one would have imagined, came sounds of others
stamping through the thick woods. Their torches lit the night around them in an eerie
orange illumination. Seated upon a majestic roan, Nicholas led the search, his pale blue
eyes scanning the forest for signs of his brother and the mortal woman.
That night, there would be revenge!
* * * * * * * *
Sarah slipped into an exhausted sleep, cradled by Jareth's arms. In her slumber,
though it was restful, she found herself placed in a dream, the first in quite some time. She
stood in Fontridge once again, though there was no terror associated with the Manor any
longer. Instead she felt at home in the massive confines of the mansion, as she looked
upon lovely tapestries and equally stunning portraits.
Then, as if sneaking in on the slight breeze, which caught Sarah's mane of brunette
hair, came the softest laughter. It was something Sarah had not heard in so long, that it
very nearly shocked her. She rushed to the open window, perhaps believing that the
sound had come from outside.
She scanned the grounds, noting nothing out of the ordinary. She very well would
have turned then, had she not been driven to gaze further away.... nearly out of her sight.
She craned her head out of the window, and looked down towards the stable, the stable
which housed but one horse.
The lovely steed was out, perhaps for the first time in its long life, and by its side
was none other than Emelia. She patted the horse's noble head and then laughed once
more. The soft blue dress she had worn the first time Sarah had seen her, was now
exchanged for one in the purest of whites.
Emelia turned her joyful gaze towards the window, and Sarah. She raised one
delicate hand and waved, just slightly. In the other hand was a beautiful white rose, which
Emelia had, seemingly, plucked from the stallions' flowing raven mane.
"Thank you," Emelia whispered, though her voice did not come entirely from her,
but instead from all around Sarah.
Sarah smiled, and then waved back at Emelia, a broad grin upon both girls' faces.
Emelia had come to say good-bye. She was now able to leave, to go "home" and break
the bonds which tied her to the body of that spirit horse. Still, it made no sense for Emelia
to be with the black stallion, who most assuredly was no ghost.
As if cued the lovely, ebony steed broke from Emelia's side and raced around the
yard, pausing at the peak of one slightly raised hill of the grounds. He reared, flipping
back his flowing mane in that moment of regal and stunning stature. He was utterly
breathtaking, a wild thing that had been forced to remain captive for far too long.
Then the dream began to break apart, leaving only the horse to trot around in
darkness, his elongated strides spanning nothing in several quick pumps of his muscular
legs. Sarah felt detached, as if she had left this world, but still watched the steed as he
enjoyed the freedom.
However, without warning, the horse also faded away, blending into the blackness
which had already completely surrounding him. Sarah found nothing staring back at her,
only dark. Her mind instantly was overcome with panic, having become trapped in the
horrifying bleak surroundings.
With a start she snapped open her eyes, and sat bolt upright, startling Jareth at her
side. He instantly rose with her, prepared to run as he, perhaps, feared the approach of his
brother and the royal guards. Yet, the forest was still and quiet in the twilight, with only
the lonely hoot of some faraway owl. Jareth turned to look at Sarah, and placed a chilled
hand on her shivering arms.
"It's freezing," she whispered, trying to force the fear that had just subsided within
her, completely away.
Jareth did not dare to mention what had just occurred, for he already knew that
she had dreamed. Her dreams would constantly scare her, and that could have very well
been his fault. He had invaded her subconscious to return Sarah to what she had always
been... but now it seemed that she had suffered from his offensive techniques.
"It is just as well that we continue on," Jareth remarked lightly and then slowly
rose to his feet.
His wounds had improved dramatically overnight, during the few hours that they
had rested. Still, they stood out in horrible shades of red, which forced Sarah to worry
about a possible infection. Jareth was immortal, but it seemed that since he was harmed at
the hands of his son, that power had been depleted quite a bit.
He produced a single crystal, and stood as the light bathed him completely. In a
scant second he was entirely clothed, in garments which were not stained nor torn in the
least. Sarah herself found that she was dressed as well, and done so more realistically than
the costume she had been forced to wear throughout their flee from the castle and the
guards.
"Come, dear Sarah," Jareth whispered, and reached out to take her hand into his
own.
She did as he asked, and moved in to kiss his lips tenderly. Her heart brimmed
with love, an emotion she had believed to be completely gone from her body, something
she could have not felt anymore, had it not been for this magical man. Jareth merely
smiled in response, but there was something hidden behind his carefully created mask of
indifference, some feeling which shone in the deepest areas of his mismatched and intense
eyes.
The moment was broken quite suddenly, without warning of any kind. All around
the two, from every side, came sounds of approaching danger. Voices called in, laughter
followed, and through it all came the tell-tale sound of one Fae King, nearly screaming at
his brother.
"Jareth, you cannot escape me, give up!" Nicholas demanded, his laughter
encasing his words in haughty overtones.
Jareth backed away, still clutching Sarah's hand so very tightly. Her widened, and
terrified eyes scanned their possible routes of escape, but found no hope. They were
completely surrounded. Their decision to stop for rest, and remain so long, had been their
downfall. Now, the consequences would be dealt out.
"No argument, Sarah, you must leave me!" Jareth demanded, backing them into
the center of the ever shrinking ring of unseen guards, surrounding them from all sides.
Sarah stopped moving with the Goblin King, and ripped her hand away from him.
He also halted, fixing her with his eyes that burned deeply, telling her that there was to be
no discussion over the matter. She would leave, and he would remain, to face this mob,
and quite possibly his death as well.
"Jareth," Sarah whispered, and moved in closer, her chocolate eyes pooling with
salty tears.
He sighed deeply and then, with a slight flourish of magic, produced a single,
perfect orb, which he held up at eye level, so that both could gaze into its misty body.
Sarah averted her eyes towards her lover, her would-be enemy of old, and then shook her
head ever so slowly.
He dared another single step, and then ceased his advancement. The crack of a
twig, only a few feet behind, signaled the attack. He rushed towards her, gathering her
weakened body into his powerful embrace, and kissed her lips breathlessly. She felt the
spherical crystal against her cheek, and tried desperately to brush it away, so as to remain
by his side through it all.
"Do not fear that we will never meet again, Sarah. You will know if I survive.
Now take heed!" he warned, gripping her so tightly as she sobbed against him, having
gone limp in his arms.
He pushed her away, just as the armed guards rushed from their foliage defense.
The crystal was thrown from his hand, and erupted about Sarah, bathing her in the magical
spell, before the incoming mercenaries could take her captive. She saw no more, as the
incantation fell over her eyes, turning everything dark.
She sobbed, near hysterics, with the final image of those hundreds of men, with
weapons, rushing towards Jareth, emblazoned in her mind. It was not until her sense of
touch began to return, that she slowed her flow of tears, and allowed several hitched
breaths to break through her emotions.
It felt wet, damp really... and some texture that was so shockingly familiar. Sarah
moved her hands, allowing the material to thread through her fingers, and tickle her
sensitive palms.
"Grass," her mind whispered, recalling the sensation she had experienced the night
prior, basking in the dew-covered grass with Jareth at her side.
Another tear graced her silken cheek at the thought of the Goblin King, and the
fate he would face. Death would lay in the near future.... all because of her. Sarah sobbed
slightly, but reminded herself about what he had said... about the promise he had made.
Perhaps, there had been a slight chance of his escape.... perhaps.
She slowly allowed her red, irritated eyes to open, squinting at the onslaught of
sunshine that beat upon her. She turned her face against the grass, taking in the scent of
damp soil, and everything else that was associated with nature. She managed a slight
smile, and then lifted her face towards the blue sky overhead.
The day had never been more beautiful, nor the sky more blue. It seemed almost
as if the world was rejoicing for one reason or another. It was like a new start at life, a
chance at a new beginning, one that was not doomed to be overshadowed by a hidden
past.
"I'll wait, Jareth," Sarah whispered as she gazed into the sky and allowed her smile
to broaden considerably.
Then another scent invaded her senses, one that clashed against this lovely day
completely. Sarah rose a bit more, so that she was sitting, and looked off into the
distance. The woods were in the distance, but nearer were the wrought iron gates that
Sarah had seen when first entering Fontridge Manor. That would mean, that the grass she
now sat upon, was the grounds for the mansion.
She swiveled around and gasped. The entire place, the lovely grand old house was
awash in flames, licking across its entire expanse. The lovely ornate doors, which were so
very massive, had fallen in, and Sarah could almost see inside, to the large greeting room.
Thick, billowing smoke erupted into the blue sky, and rained ashes down all around, some
drifting near to where Sarah now sat.
"Sarah!!" came the frantic voice from somewhere nearby.
She did not remove her eyes from the scene of destruction. It hurt her, somewhere
deep inside, to see the ancient Manor devoured by the hungry flames. However, she knew
that it had to happen. Too many tears had been shed in Fontridge, and so many countless
secrets were still hidden in its ever faithful twists and turns.
Suddenly arms wrapped around Sarah, and she found herself completely bowled
over. A weight fell against her side, and mirthful laughter covered all else. At last Sarah
looked to see who had called her, and her face lit up in unexpected joy. She returned the
elated embrace and then added her own giggles.
"Gabrielle! Where, I thought....," Sarah could not finish, but instead hugged her
friend once more.
Gabrielle turned to look at the mansion, and sighed deeply. The redhead, of
course, did not know the truth behind the fire. Sarah doubted if Gabrielle even recalled
being taken by Jareth... The thought struck suddenly in Sarah's mind, and she was led to
wonder if this was Jareth's sign. However, she doubted it.
"Gabby, Sarah?" two disoriented voices called.
Soon two others had joined the friends. Sarah recognized them as the other
missing actresses. They were in tears and Gabrielle hugged them both, trying to soothe
them in their emotional distress. Sarah herself, broke away from the three, and rose to her
feet, still in awe over the immense fire and the flames which seemed so very much alive.
During it all, she could almost hear a musical laughter, coming from the house, and
Sarah listened. Before her eyes she saw the faintest silver luminess of a young girl, taking
hold of a boy's hands and leading him into the woods, as they danced and laughed
playfully.
"It ends, as it began," Sarah whispered to herself and then returned to see
Gabrielle.
