A/N:

Hi everyone! This is the end of the story as I had imagined it. There are possibilities of continuing. If you have any ideas, you're welcome to let me know. For now, I would like to put this story to rest, as I am currently working on my other story: "Lost in Bronte." I purposefully left this story open to interpretation, so it can be continued in the future, perhaps from Jane's perspective. Hope you enjoyed the story. Your reviews are much appreciated. xx


EPILOGUE

Jane and Mr. Rochester landed back on solid nineteenth-century ground with a thud. "Ouch!" cried Jane. "Where the blazes are we?" thundered Mr. Rochester, almost simultaneously. They looked around and realised they were back at Thornfield Hall. The moon was shining brightly in the sky, like a halo protecting the two of them.

"Oh no!" Jane blurted out. "We never got to say goodbye properly! Ruby will be wondering what has happened to us." Mr. Rochester gave Jane's shoulders a squeeze. "She'll be fine," he said confidently. He got up cautiously, wincing, as a searing pain raced down his back.

They had landed on the fields just beyond Thornfield Hall and could see the now almost entirely burnt down building in the distance. Mr. Rochester sighed heavily, feeling torn between feelings of mournful longing, regret and newfound hope. If the building was burnt down, all the memories in it were too. He could have a fresh start, but he also felt the necessity to mourn the loss of Bertha.

Jane stood next to him silently, lost in thought herself. She recalled one of the chapters of Jane Eyre they had peeked into in the bookshop. It had claimed that Mr. Rochester would go blind in an attempt to save Bertha, but he was now healthy as a horse and had evaded this fate. Jane felt an immense sense of thankfulness overcome her. She could still not fathom why she had been sent into the future, the real world as it were, but she knew it was all to teach her a lesson. A part of their suffering had been lifted due to the change in their narrative. Jane did not half starve to death while running away from Mr. Rochester and her dearest Edward did not lose his sight. She could not explain what the meaning of these changes was, but she did not complain at the outcome events had taken, either.

Almost unwillingly, Jane asked Mr. Rochester the question she was most afraid of thinking about: "Can you believe we are simply characters in a story?" "Oh, dear Jane," said Rochester soothingly, "We cannot live our lives like that. Our lives are valuable, just like anyone else's. And this is our world. This is where we belong." "I am certain you are right," Jane said, but at the back of her mind she could not unsee what she had seen in Ruby's Blackfield. So many devices and machines. So many new inventions that made life so much easier. Talking picture boxes called televisions, communication devices called mobile phones, machines run by electricity or fuelled by gas. Aeroplanes and cars and high speed internet and female doctors! There had been so much to learn, so much to take in – and now she was back here, Jane felt slightly stunted. Jane did not know what to make of any of it. She was sure of one thing; however, and that was that she would find a way to invite Ruby to her wedding, at least to send a letter to let Ruby know she and Edward were alive and well.

Then Mr. Rochester uttered an equally unutterable thought: "Imagine if we had looked at the last chapter of our story," he laughed sinisterly. "Now that would have been interesting, wouldn't it?" Jane cringed and her mind began to race. Was their story actually limited to the pages of a book? What if the story did not cover their entire lives, would they still continue existing? These were all questions she could not deal with presently, but she felt a little delirious at the thought that their lives were not their own. In the end, however, she was sure it would all work out. They would simply have to write their own story from now on. It was in their hands now what happened next…