Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 2, 2011.

Chapter Five: Those Midsummer Nights

It became ritual.

Before every performance, Agnes would come to the dressing room with another box containing another rose. With the exception of the first night, however, there were no more notes beyond ones designating Sarah as the recipient. In addition, each night during bows, a bouquet of flowers would be presented to Sarah. Each one was different. Each bouquet was bound with a red silk ribbon. Each ribbon had a small card tucked inside bearing Sarah's name and nothing else. All the cards and notes were written in the same hand. Still, there were no more clues as to who the mysterious gift giver could be, not that any of the previous clues gave her any idea. She did have the feeling that something was familiar about it, though she could not pinpoint what that something was.

Finally, closing night arrived. There had been three weeks worth of performances, with shows Wednesday through Saturday. Agnes had just left the dressing room after delivering the twelfth and, presumably, final crystal rose. They were being held in one of the vases provided backstage for flowers, cheap plastic things and ill suited for the exquisitely crafted flowers, but Sarah did not mind. She was mildly worried that the other actors would grow jealous or tired of the flowers, but they never did. They were more curious as to who the mystery man could be.

One of them, the actor playing Puck/Philostrate, had hinted after the third night that it could be some psychotic stalker. Sarah knew instinctually that this wasn't the case, though she did not bother trying to explain that to Kevin. She did not know anyone who was more paranoid about conspiracy theories. Plus, Theseus/Oberon, played by an older student named George who was minoring in Logic, figured that if it were a psychotic stalker he would not bother with crystal roses unless he was an extremely wealthy psychotic stalker, in which case Sarah should go for him anyway. No one could quite figure out how that conclusion could be reached logically, but they did not bother arguing with him. They had ruled out any of the students at the University, but this did not bring them any closer to discovery. Sarah had a feeling that they never would figure it out before they were told who it could be.

Even had she not received the flowers, Sarah would have been just as disappointed that tonight was the last performance. Though she could not see herself becoming a professional actor, she had heartily enjoyed herself and loved being on stage. She finished putting on her makeup for the last time as Hippolyta/Titania then went into the wings for places. She was, truthfully, a few minutes early, but she wanted a few moments to center herself in solitude. All too quickly, the curtain went up and she was walking out on stage.

"Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour" began George as Theseus, "Draws on apace. Four happy days bring in Another moon - but O, methinks how slow This old moon wanes! She lingers my desires, Like to a stepdame or a dowager Long withering out a young man's revenue."

"Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;" Sarah's Hippolyta replied, Four nights will quickly dream away the time: And then the moon - like to a silver bow New-bent in heaven - shall behold the night Of our solemnities."++

So the play continued, and Sarah held strong.

"These are the forgeries of jealousy; And never since the middle summer's spring Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, By pavéd fountain or by rushy brook, Or in the beachéd margent of the sea To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport."++

She wooed the audience as she wooed Bottom as the Ass, she gained their pity at being such a victim to Oberon's devices, she charmed them as Hippolyta charmed Theseus, and when she bid Oberon:

"First reherase your song by rote, To each word a warbling note. Hand in hand with fairy grace Will we sing and bless this place."++

So, too, the audience felt privileged at such a gift.

As with the past eleven nights, when they came forward for their bows, Sarah was once more presented with a bouquet. This time, there were twelve roses, pure white petals starkly contrasting the ribbon binding them. Tiny droplets of water sprinkled the petals. From nowhere came the thought that each individual flower had a mirror image in crystal, and somehow she knew that thought to be truth.

Sarah had brought a basket to take the flowers home with her. She had kept the white silk and used it to line the basket before gently wrapping each crystal rose and placing it inside. She was the last to leave the dressing room, though she was not far behind the rest of the cast. With her bag slung over her shoulder, bouquet in the crook of her arm, and basket clutched in hand, she went out to find her family. Her parents were waiting in the lobby talking to Agnes' parents. Toby stood next to them, clutching a handful of flowers she recognized as having been picked from Alison's flowerbeds.

She walked over to the group. "Hi. You made it," she said, knowing that the smile on her face probably bordered ridiculous.

"Of course we did, sweetheart," said Lewis, giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek. "You were amazing up there."

Alison swept her stepdaughter into a big hug. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered.

"My turn, my turn!" Toby bounced up and down. Ten years old, he had yet to reach the stage where it was not cool to hug one's big sister. He handed her the flowers, held together with scotch tape and wrapped with a damp paper towel to keep them from drying out. He noticed the roses she had set next to the basket and his face fell. "I guess they're not as nice as those."

Sarah ruffled his hair, "They're just as beautiful as those," she told him. "Even more so because they came from my little brother." That seemed to satisfy him. Sarah gently tucked the tiny bouquet in the basket.

Alison noticed the roses as well. "And who gave you those? I saw you were presented with flowers on stage. All the other cast members received their flowers out here."

Sarah blushed. "Actually, I'm not sure who they are from. A secret admirer, I guess. I kind of hoped he would have introduced himself one of these nights, but he hasn't." She shrugged. "Maybe some other time, I guess."

Alison furrowed her brow at that answer, as well as the way Sarah wouldn't meet her in the eye. She wondered what more was involved with this admirer, and how many other bouquets of roses Sarah was given to prompt a wish to meet him 'one of these nights'. She was not given much time to think about it as Lewis asked her which restaurant they were going to. He couldn't remember the name. They, as well as Agnes and her family, were going to have a late dinner together in celebration. Traditionally, the cast and crew were supposed to help out with striking the set the day after closing night and they would all get together for the cast party then, which meant they were free for celebrating with family members the night of closing. Agnes came out shortly after that, plans were finalized, directions were given, and they went off to their cars.

Jareth chuckled softly to himself, wondering what the High Queen would think of him beginning to court a young, Mortal woman at a play in which she presented a most uncharacteristic Titania. Though he had watched every performance, this was the first night he was actually in attendance. He ventured Aboveground once before to arrange for delivery of his gifts, but could not spare more time away. Truth be told, he had likely been away too long this evening. It was necessary, however, or so he told himself. He left specific instructions behind should anything out of the ordinary happen and he hoped that his absence would not be noticed too widely, that no one would be watching so closely.

After waiting until the rest of the audience left the theatre, he followed them out into the foyer to await Sarah's exit. He knew that this was where she would exit the building, and he knew she would likely be the last to leave. She tended to linger behind after any play she was involved in, as though saying goodbye to the experience each time. He stood against a wall in the shadows and waited.

When she did come out, it was sooner than normal. He soon realized why as he saw her go over to a small group of people. The recognition of some of them as her family was almost instantaneous, though he could not get over how much her brother had grown. Though he did watch Sarah from time to time, and with increasing frequency over the past five years, he had not once looked in on the boy.

He shamelessly eavesdropped on their conversation, taking in the way she gently handled this night's bouquet and a basket filled with familiar white silk. His level of satisfaction waned, however, when she heard her comparison of Toby's flowers to his. It was foolish, and he knew it, but he could not control a tiny stab of jealousy at her words. He struggled momentarily to regain control, and because of that he almost missed her unconscious smoothing of the silk in an affectionate and tender gesture as she tucked the bouquet from her brother inside the basket.

His suspicion of what lay inside was confirmed, as well as his confidence restored. Though, this time, he reminded himself to not be too self satisfied when things did and disappointed when things did not go according to his carefully structured plan. This was not some frivolous and predictable girl. No, his Sarah was spontaneous and passionate with a depth of character he rarely saw in anyone. That last thought took him by surprise. His Sarah. He had not realized he had already become that possessive of her. Though he knew it was to be expected, he did not think it would happen before she openly accepted his suit.

That thought gave him pause. The jealousy and possessiveness of the Fae were legendary among his people. More wars had been started because of those two things than by any other cause. It was not simple coveting of objects, however. It always related to the heart's deepest desire and dearest treasure. There were, of course, the few cases where actual infidelity had caused difficulty. Those were few and far between. Instead, it was much more likely that innocent events lit the spark that soon blazed into an uncontrollable inferno.

Jareth knew that if he reacted this strongly to a gift from Sarah's brother, he was definitely more closely bound to her than he realized. He would have to go more slowly. Should she reject him, it could drive him to do any number of things. And, if he was to be honest with himself, he had to admit that there was the chance she would in fact reject him. It was within her right; he had put her through a terrible ordeal, made her think it was all a dream, and caused heartache that lasted for many years. He knew it did. He had seen it in her eyes. He had felt it in her spirit.

Again, he was caught by that thought. He had felt it. He should not have been able to feel anything of that sort. Not yet, anyway. He asked himself the same question he had asked many times before, What have I done? Jareth knew he had to leave, now. Before she realized he was there.

That was when he noticed that she was alone in the foyer. She called out to her friend, the one with the red hair who had been around for years as well, saying she did not need help but would see her at the restaurant. Jareth slowly pulled back further into the shadows.

As Sarah bent to gather her things, a sudden movement caught her eye. She quickly looked up, and froze. It's him, she thought, her mind racing. But it can't be. But it is! Their eyes met, their gazes locked, and she slowly stood up. He looked different from what she remembered, but that was mainly because he was wearing normal clothing. It must have been to blend in. But why is he here, anyway?

When Sarah's eyes looked into his, Jareth froze. He meant to leave quickly and before she saw him, but now that she had he lost the ability to act. Her expressions were an open book. First shock, then horror, amusement, joy, and finally confusion. He knew she wanted to know why he was there, was trying to come up with a logical reason for him being there in the flesh or convince herself it was just her imagination. Suddenly, he saw her eyes widen as she drew her own conclusions. She looked down at the basket. As soon as she broke eye contact, he quickly fled the scene, vanishing Underground without fuss, flare, or turning into owl form.

Sarah slowly looked down at the basket and stared at it for a long moment. She felt as though her thoughts were working in slow motion, but it all clicked. The crystal roses. The handwriting showing power, arrogance, yet grace and beauty. The sensation that she knew so much about someone who told her so little. And with all that came a single thought: It was real.

Not sure what to think about that she looked up just in time to see him vanish. There were no lights flashing, no glitter sparkling, no owl flying around the room. "No! Wait!" Though it made no sense, she ran over to the wall where he stood as though that would somehow bring him back. But there was nothing. No hole in the wall, no sudden transportation to the Labyrinth. Nothing. Disappointed and... something else, she could not place what, Sarah sighed.

The next thing she knew, she was furious. She slammed both hands against the wall and fairly growled in frustration. Her eyes brimmed with tears, so she shut them, refusing to cry. She hung her head, leaned it against the wall. Taking some calming breaths, she blinked her eyes quickly. That was when she saw it. It was just lying there, unannounced. She wondered if he even knew he left it behind.

Sarah stood there for a full minute, not moving. She would not have noticed if she had stopped breathing, she simply stared at it. Slowly, she reached down and picked it up. Twirling it in her fingers she walked back to her things and picked them up. Before she pushed open the front doors and walked into the evening air, Sarah tucked a snowy white owl feather into the basket beside Toby's flowers and the silk wrapped roses she now knew were gifts from Jareth, the Goblin King.

++Text taken from: Shakespeare, W. (1967) A Midsummer Night's Dream, Wells, S. (ed.), London: Penguin Books. Lines in order of appearance: I.i.1-11; II.i.81-87; V.i.387-390.