I'm couch surfing, in the most literal sense. I currently do not have a car. I am a lyft driver, therefore I am not working. My computer is broken and it's gonna cost $100 to fix. Sorry if I have been a little out of touch.
But I need to escape. I am currently using my aunt's computer because I am desperate for a release.
Luckily it's lengthy. Gotta give me props for length, right?
O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o
"It hurts!" Francesca gasps in a scream.
Jareth replies in a calm, yet worrisome voice as he cradles her in his arms. "I know-"
"Oh, Gods-" her gasps of pain won't subside. "I-it hurts!"
Jareth hears his nieces struggling voice as he enters a darkened cobble-stone room with a large aged wooden table surrounded and large chairs to match.
"I-I don't-" Francesca struggles to speak.
"Don't speak. You will only exhaust yourself." Jareth lays her down on the table oh, so gently. He feels her tremble in fear and pain. She shakes as if she were about to combust. "Your father is coming with your healer. You just need remain calm."
"No!"
"That's enough. Now calm yourself, or I will put you to sleep. Do you want night terrors?" she vigorously shakes her head in retort as she tries to muffle the pain, but it is too excruciating.
"I'm..." she tries to whisper. "I-I-"
"Be still," his voice is more kind and calm as he examines her from head to toe.
"I'm... sorry..." she hiccups in her whispers.
"Stop-" he refuses to listen to her.
"Jareth-" his niece calls him by his name as she grasps to his shirt for dear life. She pulls him down to look into his eyes. He doesn't fight her dramatics and willingly looks to her. "I'm sorry-aah~" She screams as the wound on her side pulsates in pain.
Her cries don't let up. Her tears are never ending. Her fists ball as she loses all ability to speak, she hurts so much. She desperately tries to control the jerky movements of her limbs as he leans in to look at her wound. Her large would lays on the side of her abdomen, surrounded in dark, dark red colored blood, quite a few tints darker than human blood. Her dress is hard pressed and stuck to her skin as if it is glued to her by the vast amounts of fluids flowing from her fragile body.
His hands grow closer to the bloodstained fabric, but he has to quickly and suddenly pull away as he feels a slight sting he from the tip of his glove covered fingers. This sting is felt all the way to the center of his spine. Flabbergasted at this rather unpleasant sensation, he is more careful as he slowly pulls away the ripped fabric to see what has his niece in so much pain. The shocking sensation that he felt is now more continual as he further inspects the situation. Fully revealing the wound, there is so much blood as something sharp sticks out of the side of her abdomen.
"Sssshit~" the shock is too much for him, this time, as he flicks his hand back and hurriedly waves the pain away. The shock to his spine is the physical equivalent to the pain of a pair of ears hearing nails on a chalkboard and he is severely riddled by the curiosity of it all. What is inside of her wound that causes a shock through him as well? "What in the seven hells-"
"WHERE IS SHE?!" The echo of Francesca's father suddenly booms into the room with agonizing resonance.
O.o
Alister's office is not a long walk from the hallway, and it is way too short of a walk for his comfort. He wants to delay as long as humanly possible, so he silently walks, not wanting to say a damn thing until the party of three were sitting behind closed, locked, and buried doors. Opening his illustrious office with a single key that he seemed to draw out of thin air, the door swings open with a little more force as he invites the two ladies to have a seat in two chairs identical to his own on the opposite side of his desk. Sheena and Sarah sit with ease, one in exhaustion, and the other in determination. Sheena is about to pass out in the chair, as Sarah looks dead in Alister's eyes, waiting for him to start.
Alister takes his time, though, looking around at the room, shuffling at the papers surrounding the desk, and humming a simple, yet foreign tune under his breath.
"You're unusually quiet tonight, Al." Sheena says with a playful grin. "Usually we can't get him to shut up."
"Mm, yes," he mumbles as he shakes the blinds at his lone window behind his desk chair to see if anyone is near or far.
"He is acting a bit odd tonight, isn't he Sheena?"
"And since when did the name Al stand for Alister? Do I even know you?" Sheena's smile widens as she sits comfortably.
The small talk is short lived. Silence overcomes the room as the girls look to one another. Sarah is losing what little patience she had to begin with. She roughly exhales as she continues to watch his every move. Alister avoids eye contact as much a possible as he sees a lovely piece of decor on his wall that hasn't been dusted in a few decades and decides now is the time to swipe an index finger against it to see it's shiny exterior.
Sarah, completely done with his antics, fidgets with her hands, unable to stand the silence any longer. She needs answers, like, now. "Alister!"
"Sarah! How are things?" He turns to her vigorously blinking with a smile.
"Alister-"
"I heard about your brother. I am so sorry." His words sound so sincere as he holds out a hand for her.
"Alister-"
"If you need a place to get away while all of this is happening, you know you can always stay with me and Jon."
"Alis-"
"And free drinks. Anytime you want. This is the time-"
"Where are they?" Sarah's voice becomes stern and serious as she locks eyes with his.
His brow furrows. "Who, dearie?" He asks as he slyly slides into his desk chair from the other side of the room.
"I don't have time for this-"
"I'm sorry, Sarah." he says with a very convincing face. "Who are you looking for?"
"Jareth and Francesca."
Alister stops whatever movements he makes and stares deeply within her. His movements have come to a halt, a halt so startling that he looks like he has become somewhat of a statue. Sarah and Sheena awkwardly wade their gaze side to side in slight confusion. "Who?" he leisurely rises a sly smile.
"Al, I swear to God if you don't start giving me answers I am going to go apeshit."
His smile grows at her anger. "I'm sorry. Can you be a little more specific?"
"Well, I'm thinking that I might get a spoon aim it for the giant organ in the middle of your chest that pumps blood through your body-"
Sheena's eyebrows shoot up. "Pretty sure that's called a heart."
"What is a heart, exactly?" Alister asks smile never fading.
Sarah rushes up. "Okay, where's the spoon-"
"Touchy, touchy..." Alister stands to meet her. "Honey, I think you might be a little over stressed." He pulls her in for a half hug. "Why don't you go home and get some rest-"
Sarah pulls herself away from him in a sudden jerk. "You know where they are." She points to him accusingly.
"Honey, I would have to know who "they" are in order to know where "they" are." Alister looked to her with reprimanding eyes. "I think it's time for her to go home, Sheena," he mentions to the third party, pushing Sarah to her friend.
"I agree. Sarah. I need sleep. Obviously no one know's what you are talking about. Can we go now?"
"Not until Alister spills all that he knows." She turns to him, anger now boiling inside of her.
"Sarah-"
"Don't piss me off, Alister," she says as she then pulls his jaw towards her eyes, "now really isn't the time to make me angry."
'...her eyes...'
"I swear, Alister-"
'...they're different, somehow...'
"Tell me where they are."
'Ah. Magic.'
His eyes are just as dagger-like.
"Okay!" he waves a hand in Sheena's direction. Before anyone could react a light green light shoots from his hand right into Sheena's body, causing her to collapse to the floor.
"What the-" Sarah runs to her friend's aid. She lands to her knees as she tries to wake her friend.
"Don't waste what little energy you have, Sarah." Alister's demeanor changes in an instant. She looks to him with shock in her face, not to mention fear.
"What the hell did you do to her?!" She shouts as she lightly pats Sheena's face.
"Calm the dramatics Sarah. It's not like I killed her or anything." his voice still carries a strong and feminine Irish accent, but he is different, somehow. He still looks the same, still dressed the same, but Sarah senses something about his aura. It's different. It's dark. It's commanding.
"What the hell is going on?" She asks with wide doe eyes.
"Oh, let the poor girl sleep and come sit down." Again she looks to him, now with hatred.
"What the fuck, Alister!"
"Sit!" He points to the chair she claimed before.
She doesn't say anything. His aura is so strong, she only feels compelled to keep her mouth shut as she obeys his command. She lightly lays Sheena's head down on to the floor as she takes a seat right across from Alister.
"So," he claps his hands together, "you have something you'd like to talk to me about?"
O.o
Jareth is a very patient fae. He has had a couple of centuries to build up such patients. Rome was built with less patience than he had in his mental repertoire. He patiently waited for his crown, he lives with unruly goblins that hourly test his patience, he regained his patience whilst dealing with Sarah and her childlike attitude a few short years ago, but nothing could prepare him for the wait of his niece and her race for time.
His paces are long and vast. His thoughts are not his own. His head fills with endless what-if's be it for her health, or her father, or her siblings, or her place in line for the throne, or the elders stepping in to deal with matters, depending on how the situation will become-
They went to the human world. She caused a lot of hell for the humans she had been around. He didn't do his job. He didn't watch her. He didn't look out for her. He didn't reprimand her for her obvious actions against the human realm. He didn't properly teach her. He didn't do what was required of him. He had been wrapped into the same charm that Francesca had placed upon her father, as well as many other fae that surrounded her daily.
He had failed. He failed her.
He failed her father- his brother.
What will be the repercussions for this? For her? For him? Jareth is more than willing to accept any kind of punishment for that has happened to the child.
It would be discussed between the elders and they would pick something that would be worthy of his class and his position were she to die. Although he did not technically commit a murder on his own, he will be charged with abandonment of his brother's child and tried a fair, yet terrible trial, indeed.
She put countless people in danger because of her magic. He tried to tell his brother. He tried to tell Oberon that this was a bad idea. Nothing good would come of a child who barely had any control of her magic to be surrounded by endless temptation for a human solar year. It was utterly stupid and reckless. Out of everyone in the Land of Seven, Jareth knew the human world the best, which is why Oberon had come to him with the plan in the first place. But then she came to him with her stupid plan.
Her brilliant, stupid plan.
The plan that she, herself fell for... As well as he.
She broke the one rule he gave her. The make or break rule.
Do NOT fall in love.
This is why Fae do not tangle themselves with humans. Humans are bewitching. They hold their own power, power that they do not know that they possess. Humans do not live long. But their ambition, their ingenuity, their desperate desire to be the best- the love that they possess-
Their love.
The Fae do not know love like humans do.
And when a Fae sees this strong power that is love, they yearn to possess it themselves.
Jareth had seen this love with Sarah.
In the book that was written, it was a fantasy. Humans did not want the children wished away. The book was written by an author that explored the idea of a human actually regretting their decision, for a change. The book went wild Underground, and a few copies were smuggled into the human realm by the Impish, just for the fun of their hell raising ways.
There were runners. They ever only cured his boredom, and they never got very far before just giving up.
But Sarah. She was the first person to ever actually want their child back. She was the first to cry for the child and beg and plead for their return. This intrigued him to no end. He only agreed to let her run, just so he would watch her.
He loved what he saw.
The way that she bewitched everyone around with words and human emotion. She pulled everyone she could find to her side. Her power drove him mad.
He wanted that power.
He wanted that power over her.
But he was too weak for her. He was defeated. She actually won. She won! She got him back. Such love for something as small as a human offspring. Jareth wanted this.
He needed it.
He has now been beaten twice, now. And each time hurts- physically hurts- more than the last. And now his is forced to see his own kin fall for such a heavy fate. This kills him on the inside.
Jareth sighs a heavy sigh as he rubs his face, from the top of his forehead down. He shakes himself from his thoughts as he hears a heavy door open on the opposite side of him. Out of the door comes his own mother, Matriarch Mab, whom arrived shortly after his brother and the healer.
"Mother..."
"Silence, my child." Her gaze lifts his with ease as her tranquil voice sends a tremors through his own castle walls. "Be still your wandering thoughts, for they bollow my mind with unrest and fear," her eyes are kind, yet forlorn, "emotions that are human, no doubt." Her voice is deep and voluptuous. It fills the room like the thunder of a rainy day.
Jareth gazes into eyes that match his own. "Francesca's status?"
She gently tilts her head as her long, long silver tresses follow her movements. She caresses her sons cheek with such soft hands that immediately brings Jareth back to his own childhood, oh so long ago. "She is breathing, but she is very weak. They have pulled the object out of her abdomen, but we are not sure if she is going to make it."
"Her magic should help-"
"The magic in her soul chalice is vibrant and toxic, bright yet zealous." The Matriarch says dropping her hand as she slowly starts to pace herself, her long silver down tracing shortly behind. "If I didn't know any better, I would say that is the tampering of, yet another emotion that is strictly human." She lightly sighs.
"Mother-"
"She was pierced with iron, my son." She states, hissing out the last word. She expects nothing but silence from him. "When she crashed, a long iron spear lunged itself through her ribs. How, pray tell, was she around any kind of iron in that god-awful human realm?"
"Iron is everywhere. It cannot be avoided. I don't wear gloves when I meet human runners for fashion." He stands erect to respectfully adhere to his mother. "You can cast a protection spell to evade its affects on you momentarily, but it is far easier just to build a resistance towards it." she starts to walk expecting her son to follow. "It takes time, but it works."
"It is also led to believe that it can have an effect on your mind and spirit. You have seen our Wonderland to the East." She looks to her son. "The Iron City has taught us much in the ways of iron and it's strain on a Fae's mental abilities." Their pace is slow in stride. "It is deadly."
"The human world is a deadly place, mother."
"Then why did she go?"
"Because her father has no backbone."
"Yet, she went with you."
"There was an agreement."
"I am aware." Her eyes pierce his. "You were supposed to be a mentor, a leader, an uncle, a protector-" she turns away from him. "You were supposed to teach her. What went wrong?"
"You have been caught up on the events at hand, mother. You know what exactly what went wrong."
"Yes," her voice grows darker as she faces him in animosity. "This whole thing could have been avoided if she didn't have you as her guide."
His face is stoic upon her rattling accusations against him. What she is saying isn't new to him. He knows that he has royally screwed up. He knows that he is the reason why Francesca is moments away from death. Hearing his own mother speak it into existence, isn't something he isn't used to, but it certainly doesn't help his morale.
"I am well aware. I wish not to have a reminder."
"Pray tell, young Jareth," her animosity diminishes as her professionality returns, "how shall you be punished if she is announced dead?"
He doesn't miss a beat, "That is up for the Seelie courts to decide. And I fully accept any fate that be."
"You are a good son." She says with a lonely smile. "Now," one of her long and beautiful fingers calls him nearer, "who is it?" she turns her head towards her son.
"Pardon?"
"Who is the human that has filled our Francesca with avidity, longing, desire- lust?"
"It is just a young boy,"
"What is the name of the creature that has cursed my grandchild?" The Matriarch asks more sternly as she starts to belittle his being with hers. "I will have the name. This bewitchery will end. I will not stand for injustice."
"With all due respect, the boy is in no better condition than she. They were both involved in the same accident." he looks to her, standing his ground, no matter how small he felt.
"Is the boy dead?"
"I do not have that information. I left with her as soon as I found her. I also left a failsafe spell behind in our wake."
"Well," she nods a single nod. "At least you did something right." her sigh is more rigid as she exhales. "If she survives this, if we have a miracle, not only will I spare you the rod, but if she asks, the boy is dead. Is that clear?"
"Crystal." Again, Jareth stands straight next to his mother. Matriarch Mab sees a distilled distaste in her son's stoic features. He could never hide anything from her.
"I need a name."
"Of?"
"The boy."
"Why?"
"Because I would hate to lie to my granddaughter."
Jareth doesn't move an inch away from his mother, but he does not answer. She sees his hesitation, and measures up to him again.
"Jareth. What is the boy's name?"
He looks to her not answering her command. She vigorously blinks as she tilts her head, humoring him. "Do not make me ask again, my son."
"Seeing her injuries, I highly doubt that we need to interfere with the boy's fate."
"Jareth-"
"Let nature take it's course."
Her eyes widen at his audacity. She slowly inhales at his uncooperative words. Her nostrils flare, as she lifts a sharpened brow to the child in front of him. "Turn around."
"Mother-"
"Jareth, you dare to disobey your mother twice?"
There is a sharp silence between the two as he refuses to blink. He sees her long finger twirl in front of his gaze motioning him to 'turn around' and a fair warning in her smile. Doing what he is told, he quickly spins to face his back to her. He still stands tall, never cowering under his mother.
Stretching her fingers, each digit dances as they take position right on the edge of the top of his spine. She trails her fingers down his spine as if she were to look inside, and through this action, she opens a small portal within his back. This portal shines with a hue that matches the aura of his soul chalice. The color of the aura matches the strength and longevity of his power. Each soul is vastly different. His mother has been doing this for a very long time and knows what each and every soul looks like in every creature. Therefore, she will also know if there is even the slightest difference in between them.
"By the Gods-" she closes the portal in an instant. He spins back around, not surprised in the least. He can feel difference. It drives him ballistic. "Not only are you filled to the brim with toxicity, but it is rotten. It is almost clear. There is little to no color." She looks to him almost pained for him. "How are you even alive?"
"I am remarkably strong willed, mother."
"You need a healer."
"No,"
"What is her name, Jareth-"
"I do not need a healer."
"Do I need to educate you? I will not allow this sickness to last."
"This..." he straightens himself. "This pain... Yes, your majesty, it is, indeed, unbearable. It's unimaginable. It also keeps me going." He doesn't let her interfere. "I am stronger because of it. I have grown greedy. I refuse to lessen my strength."
"You are shaving off hundreds of years of your life."
"My mind is made."
"You are insane."
"Then it seems as though I have been around a little too much iron." He nods to his mother in rendering satisfaction.
"You dare mock me-" she suddenly gasps in realization. "they're related," her mind suddenly sparks a connection.
"Mother-"
"These two... humans... Your human and... Francesca's. They're related." her gaze is deadly.
His brow furrows in confusion. "How could you possibly know that?"
"Francesca's soul and your soul are similar. There is a construct that relates the pair of you by your bloodline. A human's mark is no different. This be not the first time I have had to take care of bewitching humans that take hold of my children- Now give me these names, young one, or may the Gods-"
"I am leaving." Jareth has had enough of this.
Her anger finally shows itself as she approaches him. She pulls him back with brutal force as she shoves him against the stone wall. This is the closest that they have been in centuries. "This disobedience from my youngest child will go on no longer." Her title starts to show. She proves to be a powerful Matriarch, indeed. "I refuse to lose any of my children to such a disease. You will give me the name of the human that has harmed my granddaughter, or else I will-" she pauses the relish the moment. "else I'll release your father on your human."
Never in Jareth's life have his eyes filled with fear, and he swore that they never would. But this emotion was close enough to that of a fearful notion, that it wakes his own and the slight fear that possesses him is quickly replaced with anger that far matches her own.
"Mark my words mother," his bark is just as loud, "neither you nor Father Finvarra shall lay a hand on her." The strength of his own voice causes her to step back one step. "For if you touch her, there will be hell to pay."
Matriarch Mab is not amused as she shakes her head in displeasure at her youngest child. "You do well to remember, young one, that these are words that you will not be able to take back." With that last statement she disappears with nothing but a sea of silver shards spreading the air of where she once stood, leaving Jareth to the cold and dark stone walls of the night.
O.o
Alister sits slightly shaking his head in disbelief, but his smile remains. "How did you do it?"
"Alister," Sarah scoffs as she pinches the bridge of her nose. They have gotten absolutely nowhere. "Just tell me what happened. Where are they?"
His smile only grows. "I mean, I have heard that it could be done, but I have never actually seen it happen."
"I have a migraine, and I'm not afraid to take it out on you." Sarah is at her wits end.
"You're not going to give this up, are you?" He asks his friend with his head resting upon a fist.
"Oh, you're just now figuring this out?"
"This is a real hallmark moment, Sarah."
"ALISTER!"
"They're gone," he simply puts it, "gone, Sarah. They left. Poof. Disappeared."
"No shit, Sherlock." Sarah grunts in frustration. "How do I get them back?"
"Oh, that's not possible," he snorts as he tosses a teasing hand at her.
"I am really done with this facade."
"As am I, yet, you're still here." Alister's voice only causes Sarah's grunting to annoyingly fill the room. "What do you want me to do, Sarah? It was a failsafe spell. It was cast so all of the humans that had been affected by their arrival would forget that they even existed. It's a great way to cover Fae tracks. Something that I was too stupid to learn in my younger days."
"Wait- so he cast a spell on everyone when he left so no one will remember them?"
"He was quite thorough. It's a complicated spell. It takes time to cast. He cast the spell before he arrived so it would go into affect as they left. It's a must if a Fae wishes to explore the human world. And the only way that the failsafe wouldn't work on a human is if the human is-" he suddenly pauses. His eyes flicker to her. His smiles grows twice its size as he slowly turns his head to her direction.
"I really wish you'd stop looking at me like that. It's... really creepy-"
"Do you want to see him again, Sarah?"
Sarah's eyes pop open.
...
"I just... What?"
"Do you wish to see him again?
"What-no... That's not what this is about..."
"Then what is this about? Why are you going through all of this trouble?"
"I...want to make sure that... that Francesca's okay."
"Well, that is extremely considerate of you," he says as he looks to the cuticles of his nails, "but unfortunately I cannot help you with that, dearie."
"What!"
"Sorry." he shrugs. "I'm an outlaw. I don't risk my arse for small time shit."
"Al-"
"Unless..." he lingers the word.
"Unless... What?"
"Unless it's true love."
"Oh God." Sarah rolls her eyes as she slams her head in the palm of her hands.
"I just can't resist a good love story."
"This is ludicrous!"
"Is it?"
"I need him to fix Toby!"
"Oh, is that it?"
"Toby is in trouble and I know he can help me."
"Can he?"
"Ugh!" Sarah is at a loss. The mood settles as she pulls her long hair back in stress. Alister is not helping this stressful situation. What on earth is he trying to get at? Why must he make this so difficult. "Why can't you just be a friend and help me out?"
"Because this is more fun." He chuckles at her torture.
"My brother's life is hanging in the balance, Al." She stands to lean up against his desk. "I don't have time for fun!"
"Just admit that you're in love with him and... Maybe I can help you."
"Maybe?"
"That's better than nothing, wouldn't you think?" Alister shrugs again.
Sarah heavily exhales at her, so called, friend. This is not the time for soul searching. This is the last thing that she is think about. All that is going through her mind is-
Jareth.
'Jareth. He...'
'I...'
'He...Needs to help Toby.'
That is on her mind.
Nothing else.
"You are so stubborn, do you know that?" Alister grabs a hold of his head in ache. "Your thoughts drive me crazy."
"Oh yeah. Okay sure-" Sarah's hands flail in the air, "on top of everything, you can read minds."
"Now is the time for soul searching, dearie. The sooner you find your soul, the sooner we can help your brother's. What say you?" Alister looks to her with the hopeful ultimatum.
Sarah's tired eyes still somehow make a statement that brings nothing but a chuckle to Alister's gut. "Alright, smart ass, what else am I thinking?"
"That you hate me and wish you knew the method of castration."
"Alister,"
"Sarah,"
"Al-"
"Sar-"
Sarah's sigh was that of defeat. She stands tall and exhausted. She is tired of the night. She is tired of this facade. And most of all, she is tired of fighting. "Alister I..."
'Fuck...'
"Yes?"
"I'm in love with him." She shrugs. "Alright? Happy now? I'm in love with him. Now will you please help me see him?"
"What about your brother?"
"Can I get cell reception in your realm?"
O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o
I guess I write best when everything is stacked against me. A little behind the scenes moment. For the longest time, I was going to have Jareth's father make an entrance, but on a lark, I decided to change to his mother as an exercise and she is WAY more fun to write! As soon as I started writing her, I was like, "who is she?".
I love her.
I mean... You aren't going to love her... You're probably gonna hate her.
But I really enjoy writing her.
Again. I'm sorry that I haven't been updating as often as I should be, but as I stated at the beginning, I am kind of caught in a little bit of a pickle. When life wants to kick your ass it REALLY kicks your ass.
But I'm not out yet! ^_^
See you soon! (Hopefully sooner than last time)
I.L.C