AN: I'm just vibing over here at this point - just over 12 pages for this chapter, whaaaat?! Who is she! I'm also just so blown away by how much love the last chapter got. I don't deserve y'all, but I hope this latest installment counts for something.

Psychometry

Chapter Three

Prelude

Sunlight filtered in through Sarah's window, casting bright rays directly onto her face. Sarah scowled, blearily opening her eyes while halfheartedly trying to shield them with her arm.

"Come on, Sarah, you must wake up!" Tanya's voice lilted through the space.

Sarah propped herself up on her elbows, her scowl replaced by confusion at Tanya's urgency. Tanya knew more often than not to let her sleep in when possible, as Sarah could hardly function in the morning. And judging by the light, the sun appeared to only just now be creeping up for the day.

"Why on earth are you in here so early?" Sarah moaned, letting her head fall back against the fluffy pillows. "Can't whatever it is wait?" She couldn't even remember what she would be needed for just after dawn.

Tanya marched over to her from her spot by the window, standing above her bed less like a lady in waiting and more like a valkyrie with her narrowed blue eyes and red hair appearing fiery as the sunlight behind her illuminated it.

"I don't think your wedding can wait," she replied with her hands on her hips. "One would think I wouldn't have had to barge in here and wake you up! I would've expected you to be so overcome with excitement." Tanya's eyes lost some of their ire, instead replaced by a wistful look, as though she were imagining her own wedding. "Just think, Sarah! After tonight, you will no longer be a princess, but a queen!"

Sarah sat up straighter in her bed, a jolt racing down her spine. Her mind was struggling to comprehend Tanya's words. She knew for certain her family had been looking to have her married off as she could remain unwed only for so long before it became unseemly. But she could've sworn that she had been having a hard time finding the right suitor, not that she could exactly remember why that had been the case. But to then find a king?

She worried her lip, afraid to voice her confusion aloud.

"We have to get you ready soon," Tanya carried on, seemingly either ignoring or entirely unaware of Sarah's bemused expression. "The ceremony will be tonight just after dusk. A little odd, but also romantic, isn't it? Imagine - getting married under the stars!" Tanya chattered on, Sarah struggling to catch up.

"Could I maybe have a few moments alone?" Sarah asked, suddenly feeling a wave of dizziness. Tanya frowned but then gave a soft smile.

"You must be feeling nervous for this day. But I must say, he seems like such a charming man. Not to mention, he's handsome, gentlemanly, and oh, did I mention he's a king?" She asked in mock forgetfulness, a wry grin tugging her lips.

Sarah couldn't help but return the smile. It was easy, for just this moment at least, to suddenly believe that she knew exactly what was going on and that she was living a fairytale. She would marry a handsome king, rule by his side, and perhaps even be in love.

"When you put it all like that…" Sarah teased.

Tanya gave a laugh in response, but Sarah felt like it rang hollow for some reason. She had known Tanya for years and in knowing someone as closely as she did her, Sarah knew when her laughs were genuine and when they were not. They had been born into nobility and they knew all the minutiae of court life, including when to sit and behave like a proper young lady, laughing at boring jokes dumb old men told.

She could've also sworn that there was a panic-stricken look in Tanya's eyes, but Sarah blinked and it was as if her mind had conjured up the image entirely. Looking at Tanya again, she was all smiles and giddy delight. Sarah felt her suspicions rise, but at the same time didn't have any real proof to consider why she felt the way she did.

"I suppose we can spare an hour. But then you'll promise me that we'll get started right away! I would never forgive myself if I didn't make you radiant for this occasion. Nor would your mother."

Sarah laughed and assured Tanya that she would be absolutely ready even though the way her heart began to pound against her chest indicated otherwise. And thinking of her mother only made her more anxious, like there was something she was supposed to remember.

Sarah leaned against the door after Tanya left, eyes darting around the room as she tried to steady her breathing and figure out what to do. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, but there was nothing for Sarah to grasp onto, nothing to point to exactly why she was feeling off. Her memories felt hazy and she felt like she couldn't trust her own ability to recall anything, what was fact versus fiction.

The air in the room began to constrict her throat, and Sarah knew she needed to get out. Grabbing one of her cloaks, Sarah tied the lace around her throat and slipped the hood up, not wanting to be noticed. Quietly opening the door to her rooms, Sarah was thankful for the thousandth time that she never had too many attendants surrounding her. She supposed rumors of her being a cursed princess didn't exactly have people flocking to attend her.

Glancing down both sides of the hallway, Sarah slipped out and turned and began to walk down the hallway before dodging into a door that was unmarked on her left. It had originally been a servants' cleaning closet, but Sarah knew that it had long ago fallen out of use and been left largely untouched. And Sarah, being an adventurous and not-so-studious daughter, had spent much of her free time as a child exploring all the hidden corridors in the palace. A place such as this, one that had been standing for centuries, had constantly undergone transformations depending on who ruled and when. But rather than raze any one part, things were simply added on or discarded. Which ended up being rather enabling for Sarah's curious nature.

She remembered often getting into trouble when she would disappear for lessons, having decided that rather than learn embroidery or the etiquette befitting of a young princess, she would instead find ways to get outside. Sarah fondly remembered having found a crack in some of the palace stone walls that created a perimeter around the gardens. It was easy enough for her to shimmy through and explore the surrounding forests while her attendants always struggled to see where she had gone.

Whenever she traipsed through the forest, she used to imagine that instead of a princess, she was a fairy looking for treasure. Most of what she ended up finding were things like flowers, acorns, and smooth pebbles that were perfect for skipping across water. She would grab fistfuls of her skirts and clumsily tie the hem into a large knot so she could climb trees and nestle in the branches, content to let the adults scramble around looking for her.

She also recalled a strange white owl she used to see on occasion. The owl hadn't been like other woodland creatures, and thinking back on it, Sarah wasn't quite sure why she came to that conclusion. She only had the sense that when she spoke to it, it seemed to understand. But that was perhaps the whimsical nature of being a child, believing in things that were unbelievable.

Sarah strolled over the spot in the wall that she knew to have the crack, now conveniently concealed by shrubbery. She had managed to slowly pry more stones out over time to ensure that she could still slip through. Sarah was a slight girl anyway, and so it didn't take much to keep her exit route accessible.

It was like a great weight had been lifted the moment Sarah stepped through the threshold of what was her home and the palace grounds and the rest of the world. While Sarah was always appreciative of the comforts that the palace afforded her, a large part of her knew that deep down, she wasn't suited for this kind of life. She longed for having a life that was filled with decisions she made, not decisions she felt must be made, her own feelings on the subject be damned.

As if on autopilot, Sarah's feet led her into the woods where she knew a familiar clearing lay just beyond the thicket of trees. She had always loved this clearing, with its lush grass and filtered light coming through the canopy of trees. What she also loved was the tiny idol-like figure that sat in the middle, grass having sprung around it for who knew how many years. It was made of old stone, cracked and covered in moss, but it was a funny little thing, looking almost like a sad goblin.

Still, Sarah felt an affinity for the poor thing and tended to it whenever she remembered, taking care to clear off some of the moss and grass that nearly shrouded it from view depending on how long it took her to make the trip back out.

But this time Sarah was shocked to find that her clearing was occupied. In all the years she had been exploring the woods around the area, no one had ever appeared or even bothered to venture along with Sarah. Tanya had always been frightened of the consequences of being caught sneaking outside and also the bugs, and so Sarah would often find herself in her own company.

This time however, a man stood in the clearing, his back turned to her. From what Sarah noticed right away, he was tall and lithe, with a messy shock of ashen blonde hair that seemed to be thrown into perfect disarray. The clothes he wore were so fine they looked as if they were spun from the stars themselves, perfectly made to cloak his frame.

Sarah bit her lip, unsure if she should run before he saw her or stick around and see what happened. She wasn't usually timid, but she had been caught off guard. But then, she was also warring with the curiosity to see his face.

The choice was made for her when the stranger turned around, eyes immediately landing on her.

The first thing Sarah realized was that he looked as though he were cut from marble, nearly too perfect to be human. The second thing she realized was that he had all the air of a noble, from the set of his shoulders to the perfect arch of an eyebrow. And lastly, Sarah realized that she felt like she could get lost in his eyes. They were the softest gray-blues but mismatched, and Sarah found herself and all conscious thoughts slipping.

"And who might you be?" A smile tugged at his lips, as though he was very amused by Sarah's sudden lack of functioning.

Sarah blinked, as if trying to clear away the fog that had overtaken her mind. She felt warmth flood her cheeks at how quickly she had been caught spying and then promptly staring without a trace of shame.

"Oh! I'm…My name is Sarah." Her voice sounded so shy she had to wonder if it was even her speaking. And then, feeling a bit flustered and unsure of his status, she dipped into a low curtsy, grateful that she hadn't fallen on her face in the process.

"Charmed," the man responded, enveloping her hand in his and pressing a soft, feather-light kiss to the back of it. Sarah wondered when she had moved closer, or was it him that had closed the gap? Her heartbeat was racing too much for her to be able to focus.

Momentarily catching herself, Sarah noticed he hadn't given her his name. "And you are…?" She ventured, a polite smile gracing her lips, a perfect replica of what a young princess should look like.

"A friend."

His smile put Sarah at such ease that she didn't dwell on his secrecy. Instead, her thoughts wandered back to his appearance; he almost looked as though he were a fairytale prince, and against better judgment, Sarah felt her heartbeat quicken. She didn't know why she was suddenly so overtaken by him, but never before could she recount meeting someone like him.

Snapping out of her trance, Sarah noted that he had been standing near the idol and observing it. She felt another burst of curiosity - no one she knew had ever seemed to notice it or mention its presence. Then again, no one else seemed to care to venture far past the palace grounds.

"I've always been fascinated by this, you know," she hiked her skirts up as she knelt down, suddenly uncaring of how improper the gesture seemed, and fondly brushed off some moss that had been growing on the side of the creature's stone head. "I don't even know what this is or who placed it here, but it's always called to me." Turning her head over her shoulder to glance back up at the man, she smiled tentatively. "You'll have to forgive me for not announcing myself when I arrived - no one seems to be out here often, if at all."

His gaze bored into hers, and for a moment, Sarah felt like she was looking into the window of another universe, a place where things that she only dreamed of were reality. It was easy, she realized dreamily, to get lost in his gaze.

And then just as quickly as the connection had been made, the man broke it, returning his attention to the tiny idol.

"You know, people used to once upon a time believe in what was deemed unbelievable. Figures that were immortal, beyond human capacity for understanding, became relegated to the supernatural," he said this word derisively.

Sarah cocked her head, wondering where he had gotten these ideas. "Perhaps if they are beyond human capacity for understanding, it's no small wonder that they couldn't understand. I suppose I myself don't really understand what it is you're saying…that maybe there are beings that exist beyond humans?" Sarah bit her lip, feeling a flush of embarrassment at her admission, though her inner voice bristled at the thought. Why be sorry for something she didn't or couldn't know?

The man's laugh was rich and deep, and Sarah's brief embarrassment died off. His laugh was somewhat discordant, almost odd, and yet she found herself finding it musical in its own way.

"I suppose you must be right."

Sarah was silent for a beat before asking, "So what do you believe in then?" She noticed he had failed to acknowledge the last part of what she had said.

The man turned to her, a wolfish grin twisting his lips upwards.

"I believe there is so much that ordinary people take for granted. Power, magic…it all exists right under their very noses. In fact," the man suddenly clapped his gloved-hands together, before pulling them apart to reveal a small, glittering bauble. "It can be found right here," he finished softly, allowing the bauble to transform, taking the shape of a crystalline butterfly.

Sarah gasped, touching her fingers to her lips as she stared at the butterfly's wings silently flapping, trails of dust falling off of it. It felt impossible to witness, and yet Sarah had seen it pop into existence right in front of her.

The man's fist quickly curled around the butterfly, his grip vise-like. When he opened his palm, glittering dust swirled in the space between.

"How…?" She looked up in question, suddenly seeing this man before her in a completely different light. But this time, when she stared into his mismatched eyes, a wave of nausea rammed into her. Sarah felt unsteady, dread curling up in her stomach, creating a pit in her stomach where it nestled itself.

As soon as the feeling swept over her, it vanished. Sarah had to blink, trying to right herself as though the dread and clamminess had never existed at all.

"Magic," he answered simply. "Once you've witnessed it, you'll never see the world the same way again, I can assure you."

Like a light flicking on, the answer to her question came easily. "You aren't human. You couldn't possibly…no human can do what you just did." Her words sounded confident, but her tone was questioning, as if she were waiting for him to tell her she was completely irrational.

The man simply grinned in response.

"Remember, Sarah," his voice was a soft purr. "There is power in believing. In words."

And then it was as if he had winked out of existence, the only evidence he had ever been standing before her being the last bit of shimmering dust, twinkling playfully as if to tease Sarah and her tenuous sense of reality.

The rest of the day had gone by in a blur, and try as Sarah might, she couldn't get the strange man out of her thoughts. Well, man, but he wasn't really human, was he? Sarah had to shake her head, much to the frustration of a maid trying to fix her hair, as if she could dispel the crazy ideas running through her mind.

"You look so beautiful."

Sarah started, the soft, regal voice of her mother carrying from the doorway. In the vanity, Sarah caught the reflection of her, standing resplendent in a gown of the deepest emerald to complement her equally green eyes. It was startling sometimes, to see how similar they were, to the point they could be mistaken for sisters.

Sarah smiled at her mother's comment, turning in her seat to take her in.

Maria swept closer, pulling her hands from behind her back and revealing a delicate tiara. Sarah gazed at it in awe, noticing the intricate detailing with the metal. The tiara had been formed to look as though it were a wreath of silver leaves around spikes fashioned into something reminiscent of antlers.

"You cannot imagine how long I've been waiting to give this to you," Maria's voice lost some of its calm, a slight tremor tracing the edges. Sarah didn't know if she could take her mother's tears without crying herself. "To think…my tiny daughter, now grown and ready to be married." Her voice broke on the last word, as though voicing it was physically causing her pain.

Sarah was about to comfort her when she looked into her mother's gaze and felt fear and confusion spike in her chest. Her mother's expression, rather than looking melancholy, appeared wan, like all the blood had drained from her. Looking into her mother's eyes, Sarah was taken aback to find that rather than them appearing misty-eyed, they were fearful, pupils dilating.

As Sarah's fingers gently grasped the tiara, it was as if the spell had broken, and Sarah's mother's face was serene once more, if not a bit somber.

Sarah couldn't ignore the feeling that she was being prepared less for a wedding and more for a funeral.

Shaking the sense of foreboding that threatened to overwhelm her, Sarah allowed her mother to take the tiara out of her hands and place it gently atop her head. Looking into the mirror, Sarah had to admit she looked more stunning than she thought herself capable of. She had to hand it to Tanya and her other maids; they knew how to make Sarah look not only like a bride, but a queen. Her hair felt in dark brown, soft waves, framing her heart-shaped face with small sprigs of baby's breath woven in like stars against a night sky. The tiara crowning her added a touch of fierceness, and Sarah felt emboldened by her reflection.

The next several hours would pass Sarah by in a blur, and if she were asked to recall any one specific moment, she wouldn't have known where to begin.

It was as if one minute she was in front of her vanity, maids and Tanya fussing around her, and the next, she was staring at the grand double doors, music swelling beyond them, waiting to be given away to the next milestone of her life.

Sarah bit her lip, the discordant feeling of experiencing something that was supposed to be a huge, life-changing event mingled with complete dread, ate away at her. She tried to draw in steadying breaths, waiting for her nerves to settle, as if simply breathing could dispel them.

In some ways, Sarah was glad for the silver veil that obscured both her face from the world and her vision from everything else. If people were to see her features up close, she imagined they wouldn't be too impressed by how apprehensive she looked, an expression unbecoming of a princess-nearly-turned-queen.

And then the doors parted, Sarah having long ago tuned out her surroundings. Sarah clutched the bouquet in her hands, absently irritated by how sweat-slicked her palms felt. Her feet automatically propelled her forward, her steps somehow steady despite the overwhelming urge to pass out.

Something felt wrong.

It had been feeling wrong since she woke up.

All too soon, Sarah approached the dais of the great hall, a feeling of déjà vu cresting over her like an enormous wave.

The priest was speaking, but Sarah could only hear her heartbeat in her ears, thudding loudly.

And then her soon-to-be-husband's gloved hands were gently lifting the edges of her veil, the silken fabric gliding over the back of her head like water. Sarah waited a beat, almost afraid of what she may see. Slowly, Sarah gazed up at the face of the man standing across from her through lowered lashes.

Sarah sucked in a sharp intake of breath, the dress suddenly feeling too tight around her chest.

"What…y-you," she spluttered softly, entirely aware and entirely uncaring that she was standing before a large room filled to the brim with guests.

The man from the forest gazed back at her, a serene expression drawn across his features. Sarah stared at him and felt the dull thudding of heartbeat in her ears give way to a high-pitched whine as her skin turned clammy.

"No…N-no," she whispered, feeling herself backing away ever so slightly even as his hands gripped her arms.

Flashes of images streaked across her mind, intercepting her current reality so rapidly she could hardly discern what was real and what wasn't. She remembered lights flickering out, the shrieking of guests in this very room. She remembered the petrified expression on her mother's face, both today and from a time she could not recall. She remembered a young man with sandy blonde hair lying before her feet, neck broken, his body looking so limp and pitiful when only moments before he had been breathing, blood pumping through his veins while a stormy expression had been on his face.

She remembered the wolf-like smirk on the face of the man standing before her, the way his mismatched eyes had gazed intently into hers, like he had just found his prey. The taste of bitter, rotten peaches flooded her mouth, and Sarah had to fight to tell herself it wasn't happening.

"Pre-marital jitters, nothing more," his voice intoned softly so only she could hear. "Come, Sarah." His hands tugged on her, not harshly but still firm enough to pull her back towards him.

Glancing at the audience again, Sarah saw everyone seated, bland, placid smiles on their faces. Sucking in a few breaths of air, Sarah told herself she was just overwhelmed and anxious, that the images she saw were nothing.

But…

Sarah chanced another glance over at the audience, combing the faces of her closest loved ones. Tanya gazed up at the dais, her brows arched in concern while she gave an encouraging, tentative smile. Her father looked largely the same, though there was an even harder set to his jaw than usual. And when Sarah finally locked gazes with her mother, she saw the one thing she could not shake.

Her mother, despite having a small smile on her lips, could not disguise the fear so plainly evident in her eyes. Sarah knew this, because their faces felt like mirror images, and she had seen the very same expression in herself.

The priest continued to blather on, as if nothing was amiss. And then Sarah felt the man's hands grasp hers, his lips murmuring words she couldn't understand, mostly because she felt as if she were underwater, everything hazy and too distorted for her to make out.

Sarah was startled to find herself repeating words after the priest, her body and her mind feeling increasingly separate. What was going on?

"Well consider me heartbroken…considering I did save your life."

"One might think that it's just been a series of unfortunate events, some bad stroke of luck…but you and I know better than that, don't we?"

"I should've known you wouldn't come easy…let's try this again, shall we?"

Words, echoes of memories from what felt like both an eternity ago and mere moments, swallowed Sarah up. She felt a static energy coursing through her, and when she looked down at her clasped hands, hers so frail and small compared to his, she was taken aback to see the faintest outline of a shimmering, silver tattoo, the mirror image of the one on her ring finger appearing on his. If she looked more closely, she could see it looked like a thorny wreath, not dissimilar to her own tiara crowning her head, the weight of it threatening to crush her with all it symbolized, a reminder of this growing nightmare.

As if fighting to take control of her own body, Sarah finally snatched her hands out of his, a snarl ripping of her with a force that surprised even her. "Let me go," she hissed, venom dripping from every word.

The Erlking's gaze turned cool, as if he wasn't the least bit surprised that she had seen through the facade. His image distorted subtly, as though a veil of his own had been lifted and she was seeing him clearly for the first time since this nightmare began.

"What do you mean, wife?" He gave a humorless smile, as if trying to placate a tantruming child.

Sarah seethed. "I am not your wife! This wedding isn't real! None of this is real!" She screeched, ripping the tiara from off her head and tossing it to the ground, watching with grim satisfaction as it shattered on impact, breaking into several tiny pieces. Gazing briefly at the audience, Sarah saw that the formerly neutral faces began to crease with fear, murmurs of confusion swelling around the great hall, though it seemed whatever hold the Erlking had over them was still persevering.

His gaze narrowed, some of the condescension ebbing away to real anger. "I would be careful, Sarah. Words have power, after all."

"There is power in believing. In words."

Sarah recalled what he had said earlier in this nightmare all too clearly.

"What have you done?" She whispered, shaking with barely contained anger and hysteria, both emotions fighting for dominance.

Without waiting for him to respond, Sarah eyed the jeweled hilt of a decorative dagger strapped at his side for a beat and then lunged for it.

She had no doubt that if he hadn't been caught momentarily by surprise, she would've never gotten this far. But she was running on adrenaline, anger and fear fueling her to not bother considering the consequences, instead feeling a surge of triumph that she was able to catch him off guard.

Without hesitation, Sarah felt her grip tighten around the hilt of the dagger and sprang forward, her aim true as the tip of the dagger met the place where his heart should've theoretically been, though Sarah didn't have much faith he had one at all.

She felt grim satisfaction as a silvery substance leaked from his wound, another sign to solidify that he was entirely inhuman, but he still could bleed.

He stared at the dagger protruding from his chest, his expression largely impassive, as if she had merely flicked a small pebble at him. But Sarah saw the way his stance shifted, the energy around him threatening and all-consuming.

"That," he said, voice deathly quiet, "is no way to treat your new husband."

Sarah felt her jaw waver as she tried to hold her head up high, pretending his words and murderous glare did nothing to unsteady her.

She recoiled when she saw his hand wrap tightly around the dagger's hilt before suddenly twisting it out with the deft flick of his wrist. The wound was a gory mess but began to stitch itself up right before her very eyes. Sarah stepped backwards, feeling bile rise up in the back of her throat. What on earth was he?

"I thought perhaps it would've been a kindness to you to go about this with an appeal toward your girlish sensibilities." He tilted his head, scrutinizing her. "But then, I suppose I've read you all wrong. It seems that you like to fight, pet." When he smiled this time, his teeth were bared, donning the mask of a predator all too easily, apparently having done away with all pretense of a fairytale prince.

Sarah said nothing, gaze locked on him with razor-sharp focus. She belatedly wished she hadn't let go of the dagger, wanting to feel less defenseless, not that her one weapon had done her much good.

Without warning, the Erlking blinked out of existence from in front of her, like he had in the forest earlier.

Sarah took a tentative half step forward, head whipping around as she sought to find him. She noticed with trepidation that the audience's murmurs had been growing while many of the guests began to slump forward, as if knocked unconscious. She caught sight of her mother clinging to her father's shoulder, her eyelids drooping. Sarah could tell that she was fighting whatever effects the Erlking had cast upon the crowd, but it didn't seem to be enough.

A huff of warm air landed on the shell of her right ear, and she would've screamed at the sensation if she hadn't been so shocked.

"You're in luck," he breathed, one hand grabbing her wrist while the other twined with a deceptive gentleness through her tendrils of hair. "I like a good challenge."

The world around her suddenly pitched into darkness, and Sarah felt like she was falling into an endless chasm.

The last thing she heard in the cacophony of noise that swallowed her up was the ear-piercing scream of her mother calling her name.

AN: Sarah's in deep shit as usual. As always, feedback/reviews/kudos are always appreciated!