Contrasts
I tried to blink away the memory that rose suddenly of Jareth lifting Feanor up in his arms, both of them laughing in the streaming sunshine.
There was sunshine now. It even streamed, courtesy of the accommodating will of the Labyrinth. All our children were playing in the throne room, with the triplets chasing either after Feanor or after any hapless goblin who happened to have something shiny in hand. They all were clearly having a very good time.
And Jareth wasn't here.
It had been months, but my heart did that sudden clench thing that always hit me like a punch. I wished so badly that he was here with us. Not the iron-poisoned wraith that still looked and talked and walked like him, but my Jareth.
My love, please come out of the darkness.
The slithers of shadow coiling at the edges of the throne room hissed at me. There is nothing wrong with darkness.
I had inherited those Faerie shadows just after Jareth had been temporarily banished from the realm by draconian decree in order to protect everyone's safety, including the shadows'. I extended the shadows an affectionate mental nudge. Sorry, guys. No offense. You're very nice darkness.
If a smoky hellcat with tendrils of icy nothingness swirling around it had been bopped on the nose by a newspaper, it would have recoiled just the same way. We are not very nice darkness. We are scary and mean and cruel.
Mmhmm. I cooed. Who's a vicious horde of demon shadow? You guys are! And I just wuv you.
Gaaaaaaaah.
It made me smile. They made me smile. And it helped unclench my heart just a little.