Labyrinth - Let the Magic In
Title: Let the Magic In
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters and settings referred to here are not mine. No infringement is intended and no profit is made.
Summary: Jareth/Sarah and the prompt "return".
Author's note: Profuse and sincere apologies, hope27, I never meant for it to take this long and I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting! As always, thanks to geekmama for looking it over.
Let the Magic In
by Hereswith
“Would you return?” he says, standing in her room, in the corner where the shadows are, the darkness dimming the colours of his coat and the light in his eyes.
She’s in her bed, but she doesn’t flinch. It’s her home, after all, and she’s thirty and counting, with a degree in literature and a teaching position at the university. She’s used to handling those bored and restless.
“Why are you here?” It isn’t the weekend, so she has to get up early in the morning. Too early for nightly conversations as demanding as this. “Don’t you have someone else to haunt? Someone’s child to steal?”
It’s still an accusation, with Toby long since grown, but her visitor doesn’t deign to rise to the bait. He moves, however, coming to sit at the foot of the bed, and she’s become complacent in his presence. Must have, because she allows it.
“Oh, Sarah,” he says, placing his hand on the cover, the blue-striped fabric creasing between his leather-clad fingers. “Don't you know what you did?”
“I?” she lightly replies, though she can guess. He had asked her to love him. Impossible, at that age. Impossible now, with his gaze on her and the everyday surroundings bringing his otherness full to the fore. Far easier to fear him, always, but she would not and she will not give him that. “Surely there have been others.”
“None as brave,” he says. “None as strong-willed.” And it might be true or maybe it isn’t, she wouldn’t put it past him to lie, but she can feel the tension shift between them, like a wind turning, and draws her legs up and away from him. But he doesn't reach out, barely shudders a breath, only repeats, "Would you return?"
“I don't trust you,” is her reply. “Whatever you promise or offer me.”
“No.” His smile is thin and pale. "And yet, you open the window. You let me in.”
She can see his point, clear as anything, and she closes her eyes, shutting it out. “Go away.”
“Forever?” he says, softly, so softly. “Or for tonight?”
It’s on her tongue to tell him. Honestly, it is. But magic has its own, particular allure, and he’s nothing if not that. “For tonight.”
When she looks again, she’s alone. The moon shines through the curtains with a ghostly glow, and the echo of his laughter shivers through her a moment before it fades.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters and settings referred to here are not mine. No infringement is intended and no profit is made.
Summary: Jareth/Sarah and the prompt "return".
Author's note: Profuse and sincere apologies, hope27, I never meant for it to take this long and I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting! As always, thanks to geekmama for looking it over.
Let the Magic In
by Hereswith
“Would you return?” he says, standing in her room, in the corner where the shadows are, the darkness dimming the colours of his coat and the light in his eyes.
She’s in her bed, but she doesn’t flinch. It’s her home, after all, and she’s thirty and counting, with a degree in literature and a teaching position at the university. She’s used to handling those bored and restless.
“Why are you here?” It isn’t the weekend, so she has to get up early in the morning. Too early for nightly conversations as demanding as this. “Don’t you have someone else to haunt? Someone’s child to steal?”
It’s still an accusation, with Toby long since grown, but her visitor doesn’t deign to rise to the bait. He moves, however, coming to sit at the foot of the bed, and she’s become complacent in his presence. Must have, because she allows it.
“Oh, Sarah,” he says, placing his hand on the cover, the blue-striped fabric creasing between his leather-clad fingers. “Don't you know what you did?”
“I?” she lightly replies, though she can guess. He had asked her to love him. Impossible, at that age. Impossible now, with his gaze on her and the everyday surroundings bringing his otherness full to the fore. Far easier to fear him, always, but she would not and she will not give him that. “Surely there have been others.”
“None as brave,” he says. “None as strong-willed.” And it might be true or maybe it isn’t, she wouldn’t put it past him to lie, but she can feel the tension shift between them, like a wind turning, and draws her legs up and away from him. But he doesn't reach out, barely shudders a breath, only repeats, "Would you return?"
“I don't trust you,” is her reply. “Whatever you promise or offer me.”
“No.” His smile is thin and pale. "And yet, you open the window. You let me in.”
She can see his point, clear as anything, and she closes her eyes, shutting it out. “Go away.”
“Forever?” he says, softly, so softly. “Or for tonight?”
It’s on her tongue to tell him. Honestly, it is. But magic has its own, particular allure, and he’s nothing if not that. “For tonight.”
When she looks again, she’s alone. The moon shines through the curtains with a ghostly glow, and the echo of his laughter shivers through her a moment before it fades.