Title: The Babe With the Power
Author: nightash
Summary: 16 years after Sarah's triumph. Jareth finds himself in the park where it all started, watching a girl who means more to him then he thinks.
Rating: PG-13, R later
She leaned her lean and obviously agile body against the bridge in thought. Or, what appeared to be thought to his mind. He didn't know the girl, so he couldn't be sure. Her hair was an indefinite color, when she shifted one way those strands that weren't colored purple looked chocolaty, yet another motion made it appear golden blond. Currently it was drawn up in a clip at the back of her head, but she had been toying with it for the past half hour he had been watching her, as if itching to restyle it; never satisfied even though it looked beautiful anyway she did it. The only touch of make-up on her somehow familiar face: the dark liner circling her indefinable eyes, and a small touch of gloss on her lips.
For what seemed the millionth time he returned to her eyes, his stubborn and impatient mind determined to define their color, and maybe place her face. He preferred to do it this way, rather than to revert to the easier way and simply calling a crystal on her. As he stared into them he realized they were mismatched, much like his own. The difference was slight, but it was there. If he didn't know better he would say she was his own kin. But, no, that would be impossible. HE was the last Fay (?), wasn't he?
He was shocked out of his irrational thoughts to see her eyes locked accusingly on his. He thought for a moment she might somehow know him and solve the new puzzle buzzing around his brain, when he remembered he was in his owl form and relaxed. Still though, she studied him, as if calling upon some distant memory that might somehow explain the remembrance she felt stirring from deep within. She must have found something, as her eyes finally came back to his, disbelief shining through her carefully blocked orbs.
As she turned and fled the park, something odd occurred to him.
He may not know her, but she somehow knew him; or at least of him.
Author: nightash
Summary: 16 years after Sarah's triumph. Jareth finds himself in the park where it all started, watching a girl who means more to him then he thinks.
Rating: PG-13, R later
She leaned her lean and obviously agile body against the bridge in thought. Or, what appeared to be thought to his mind. He didn't know the girl, so he couldn't be sure. Her hair was an indefinite color, when she shifted one way those strands that weren't colored purple looked chocolaty, yet another motion made it appear golden blond. Currently it was drawn up in a clip at the back of her head, but she had been toying with it for the past half hour he had been watching her, as if itching to restyle it; never satisfied even though it looked beautiful anyway she did it. The only touch of make-up on her somehow familiar face: the dark liner circling her indefinable eyes, and a small touch of gloss on her lips.
For what seemed the millionth time he returned to her eyes, his stubborn and impatient mind determined to define their color, and maybe place her face. He preferred to do it this way, rather than to revert to the easier way and simply calling a crystal on her. As he stared into them he realized they were mismatched, much like his own. The difference was slight, but it was there. If he didn't know better he would say she was his own kin. But, no, that would be impossible. HE was the last Fay (?), wasn't he?
He was shocked out of his irrational thoughts to see her eyes locked accusingly on his. He thought for a moment she might somehow know him and solve the new puzzle buzzing around his brain, when he remembered he was in his owl form and relaxed. Still though, she studied him, as if calling upon some distant memory that might somehow explain the remembrance she felt stirring from deep within. She must have found something, as her eyes finally came back to his, disbelief shining through her carefully blocked orbs.
As she turned and fled the park, something odd occurred to him.
He may not know her, but she somehow knew him; or at least of him.