Curses


Jareth blinked slowly, letting things churn in his mind. He was so focused inwards, he didn't register anything external – not me, not Feanor or the babies, not the uncountable goblin eyes watching from shadows in anxious hope and fear.

I held my breath, waiting. Please, oh please, let him see it…let him believe me…let him be able to fix it…

At last, he looked up at me, his glance as sharp as a spear.

I shivered, but held my chin up, arching an eyebrow.

His lips twitched up in a half-smile. "Insidious. I'll have to remember it for my next curse."

I slowly exhaled. Thank you, whoever's listening. "Admiring the handiwork, were you?"

"Truly. It's the equivalent of a magical scalpel cut. Targeted, precise, brilliant."

"And downright evil, to cause you to think those things."

"But brilliant. Just one little perception pathway altered, and so many things are affected."

"I'll say. It's one thing to be accused by your mother-in-law of being a mortal harpy who seduced her precious boy, and it's quite another to be accused of being an impostor by said precious boy." I let my fingers linger along his cheek.

He kissed them slowly, one at a time. "The very best impostor."

I froze. "But you know I'm not an impostor, right? Our kids are not impostors. " I hugged one arm around our son. "This is the real Feanor." I pointed at the babies. "These are the real Telperion, Laurelin, and Aranel. Right?"

His eyes glittered with mischief, but not suspicion. Not suspicion.

I exhaled a long, controlled breath as my stomach unclenched. "I might have to strangle you if you tease me like that. Just so we're clear."

"It's been hard on you, hasn't it?"

"Damned right. Whoever cursed you with that thing, I will find them and I will dismantle them slowly and painfully."

"I do hope for my mother's sake that it wasn't her. That could get awkward."

I growled. "She only wants to get rid of me, not her grandbabies. She'd never do anything to make you doubt them like that."

"True. This was significant enemy action, then."

"Very much so." I closed my eyes, holding back a hot wash of tears. "I thought I'd really lost you."

He was suddenly behind me, pressed against my back, his arms enveloping me in a familiar wave of winter and Faerie. "Never ever, Sarah mine."


Author's note: Capgras Syndrome is a real psychological thing, where the brain pathway that connects visual recognition with the emotional ping of recognition is damaged. When the visual system recognizes someone as familiar but the emotional system doesn't, the sufferer will rationalize it as the familiar person being an impostor.