"What Dreams Must Come"

(Sequel to A Forfeit of Dreams)

Written by K.L. Morgan

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PART I

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Tainted Love: CHAPTER SEVEN

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The wind peeled back layers of fluttering paper, the leaves of the book crackling with movement as Jareth held it before him. The scarlet script curled across the pages with ease, making the barren sections like startled silences in a beautiful piece of music.

"Explain this, Librarian. Quickly."

Chaucer fidgeted, shifting from one clawed foot to the other as he hesitated on the threshold. "My liege," he began, clearing his throat, "we are overjoyed at your return –"

"Dispense with the formalities. Tell me how this happened."

Chaucer hesitated.

"This is not just a book, Librarian." Jareth's long fingers smoothly closed the volume, tightening protectively across the cover. "This is a living record. My living record." This high up, the breezes whistled sharply around them, ruffling Jareth's pale cap of hair and making Chaucer's red eyes squint against the cold. "To tamper with it is to tamper with my life."

Chaucer swallowed heavily.

"Who did this?"

"Sire," Chaucer quickly spoke, "I cannot..." His bat-like ears twitched unhappily. "This has never happened before," he admitted, miserable. "Could it be, erm, the unique color in which they are inscribed? Perhaps the red ink fades over passing time, being... inferior to..." At a look from Jareth, he swallowed heavily. "No, no, of course not. Couldn't be. Then I have failed you, sire, for I cannot think..." His eyes grew round. "Unless... unless in my absence they have begun to deteriorate? Is this the product of neglect on my part?" He unconsciously nibbled on a razored claw. "Maybe I should check the rest of my collection. Straight away."

Some of the terrible intensity left Jareth's face. He even smiled – a perfunctory quirk of the lips. "I highly doubt it. Unless all your charges have recently visited you with complaints of missing memories." His smile became real. "If a goblin ever remembers to complain of forgetting, let me know."

"Ah. Yes." Chaucer laughed nervously, dropping his hands to twiddle them together. "I suppose... er... I hope we were not presumptuous in, ah, tending the mantle of authority in your absence."

"Not at all." Jareth turned his attention back to the record again, thumbing through the smooth pages.

"Ah. Truly, a relief." He grinned to reveal yellowed, broken tusks. "I assume, Majesty, that you will be re-donning that prestigious mantle in the near future?"

"No."

The ears drooped. "Ah... are you... displeased with how the realm has fared under our, er, collective thumbs?"

"We just went over this, Librarian." A thread of impatience tangled in Jareth's tone as he scanned the suspect section of the slim volume. "The four of you have done well. I'm sure the kingdom will continue to thrive under your care."

"Erm... 'will,' sire?" The clicking of Chaucer's claws returned, even more frenzied. "Are you... you haven't returned to claim your rightful throne?"

"Your calculations are astute, as always."

Chaucer's chin wobbled. "But – but, sire –"

"Yes?"

The demon took a moment to collect himself. "You must. Surely you have marked – the kingdom has not thrived, for all our efforts. Not for lack of attention or caution on our part, I humbly assure you, but simply because it cannot – it will not – flourish without a destined ruler. You saw the change your very presence wrecked upon the Labyrinth, Majesty." He took a deep breath, finishing firmly: "It cries out for the Goblin King."

Jareth slanted a glance at his servant. "The Goblin King is dead. He died quite a while ago, according to your world's time."

Chaucer winced. "Sire –"

"I forgive the lapse in memory," Jareth continued, turning back to the record. "After all, you weren't there. But by some happy coincidence, I was." He smiled mirthlessly. "I can remember for all of us."

"You jest with your loyal subject."

"I assure you, I am perfectly serious. The Goblin King is definitely dead. Murdered, in fact. By Sarah Williams."

Chaucer, forgetting himself entirely, let out a nervous bleat.

"A tragic event, really. Maybe we should hold a service. Show respect for the dearly departed."

Chaucer hesitated. "You've changed, Sire."

"Not really. Just my perspective." He snapped the book shut, tapping the cover against a flat palm. "But that appears to have been seriously edited. Against my will."

"Majesty... What you said about Sarah..."

"Keep to the problem at hand, Librarian."

For a moment, Chaucer’s feelings of friendship warred with loyalty to his monarch within his gnarled, ancient demon heart.

Loyalty won.

He swallowed his objections with a sigh. "I am at a loss. The records are as much a part of the Labyrinth as the City, the mazes, the trees and rocks themselves. It should be impossible for an outside source to affect them... they wouldn’t be able to do it, not without somehow altering the fabric of the entire kingdom." His brow furrowed in great wrinkles. "The land has changed recently, I admit, but that was the Labyrinth’s own doing – a mechanism of defense."

Jareth weighed the volume, considering. "Perhaps this is much of the same."

"I do not understand your meaning, Majesty."

"It isn’t necessary that you understand."

His attitude dismissed Chaucer as clearly as any outward gesture. Knowing when he was not wanted, the demon bowed low, backing away until he could slowly creep down the skeleton of the staircase.

Jareth sighed deeply, crossing his arms over his chest – book trapped between – and hunched his shoulders, looking uncharacteristically exposed, even vulnerable. His chin dipped down, hair falling unevenly over his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he stepped to the center of the dilapidated library. He knelt. Opening the record to the ravaged passages, he lay the book on the spotted and molding floorstones. He bent forward; head down, one hand on either side of the open record.

"I know you’re listening," he spoke quietly. "I can feel it."

The wind snatched his words away, jealously, like a neglected lover.

"I don’t know why you did it," he continued. "I won’t even try to discern how. In the end, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything."

The wind wailed.

"Stolen memories won’t keep me here." Pale eyes hardened in a paler face. "Nothing will. You are not my world anymore." He took a deep, steady breath. "Give back what belongs to me. Now."

Nothing.

Jareth scrubbed one hand across his eyes, fingers closing into a fist. "Now, dammit!" His voice was hoarse.

And as his sparing tears landed in soft, wet circles upon the pages, red words appeared across the white paper like blood falling on snow.

The pieces locked into place.

That's all he could understand, at first. The sensation of a kind of sick unease and sharp, shooting pains lancing through sinew and bone, as if – he almost smiled – as if he were a rotten tooth someone was trying to yank free. The distinct impression that something was peeling, prying, pulling him away from reality, the terrible wet tearing of an alien force stealing him from where he belonged. Wrenching his soul away.

In a word: pain.

The pain was so great it paralyzed him, so that for a few moments all he could do was fall into its endless depths, silent and still. It stole his breath, his life, his sense, and he barely knew who or where he was. He could only focus on the pain.

"Are you alright?"

A familiar voice. A girl with a dark fall of hair over her young – very young – face. The hesitant touch to his shoulder, then taking one of his hands in hers. The sick warmth of her pity.

At least the rage gave him something to focus on.

He shoved her away, brutally careless of where she fell, before she could come any closer. He hated her a little. He was dying. It was her fault. The great Goblin King of the Labyrinth, reduced to a whimpering mess – all because of a child.

Athan would laugh.

He could struggle, now – he rolled onto his back and fought it with clenched fists and bared teeth. He fought it. He tried to remain, to anchor himself in the present chaos of shattered mirrors cascading around them in musical crashes. He wrenched his breath back, struggling for each moment of steady in and out: air into his lungs, life into his body. He wanted to stay here.

And Jareth usually got what he wanted.

"Oh, my God," came a faint, unsteady voice. "What have I done?"

He turned his head toward her even as another lurch washed over his body, made his joints ache and his vision swim. He clenched his teeth, not willing to let go – not yet. The ground rumbled malignantly beneath them both.

"I wasn’t even suppose to have it," he gasped out, almost laughing. "And now look where it’s gotten me."

This would teach him to be such a curious cat.

"No!" Sarah leapt to her feet and was at his side in a second. He pulled away from her, snarling as he leaned against a fragmented wall. One arm curled defensively against the agony in his chest – like a wild animal that can’t bear to be touched when in pain. The wall against his back shuddered, and a few more mirrors cracked with musical dissonance.

Sarah halted where she stood, one arm outstretched, still reaching for him. Her eyes were wide and excruciatingly vulnerable. "No," she cried, low and soft. "I didn’t mean to hurt you!"

Always an excuse with this one.

He laughed again. His heart stuttered, impatient to stop beating. He held a soothing hand over it. "That doesn’t change the fact," he murmured, "that you just did."

His darling, his dear one, he thought bemusedly. He never should have given her his heart to play with. If only he'd remembered – such children break their toys.

He could allow himself to soften. He'd be gone soon. No one would know.

He watched them both, the boy and Sarah, from beneath lowered lashes as they continued to bicker. There was a steady vibration, now, in the ground beneath him and the walls surrounding. He could feel it, even as the numbness began to seep into his body.

"The Castle is going to collapse," he remarked, conversational.

Sadly, it didn’t give the two children much pause. Sarah still struggled uselessly, and the young man looked at Jareth with burning eyes. "Stay the hell away from us," he said, full of mistrust. "You come near us, and I’ll cut you open, do you understand?"

With what, he wanted to ask. Your razor-sharp wit?

"If you hold her still," he only replied, "I can send you both home."

Just this once, he thought, he didn't want to be the scheming magician, the wicked prince. He'd play the romantic hero one last time.

No!" That from Sarah, who managed another desperate burst of energy. She almost pulled free – really, quite impressive, considering her captor and the shape she was in.

Yes, sweetheart, he thought absently, noting the cold steadily stealing away the pain. Replacing it with aching numbness. Lifelessness. Just once more. For you.

The boy was trying to calm her down, make her see sense. Jareth could have told him not to waste his breath, but Brian wasn't looking for advice. "You obviously have no idea what the hell is going on," he pleaded. "Sarah, listen to me, you don’t know what you’re doing!"

"I know what I’m doing," Sarah said softly. She locked eyes with the boy. "I always knew," she continued steadily, exactly what I was doing. Even in the dream."

Jareth wondered, distantly, if that was true. He didn't want to dwell on the idea, though, because if it was... well, it lent this whole scene a kind of maudlin pathos he didn't think he should be subjected to in this weakened state. It would be really quite unfai –

His breath caught.

If she continued to have this effect on him, he just might be better off dead.

The boy stared at her for a long moment. "No way," he finally said, trembling. "No fucking way." He wrenched Sarah around again, drawing her in close to the circle of his arms. "The only reason she’d choose you," he said raggedly, directly to Jareth, "is if she’d been drugged, tricked, or fucking bespelled! And you know it!"

He tried to smile, but it hurt. Everything hurt.

"Of course I do," he replied, his tone deceptively light. "Why do you think I started this charade? But if you don’t get her to calm down, you’re both going to die."

"No," Sarah choked out, still trying to twist her arms out of his hold. "I’m not leaving you, don’t you dare send me away!"

And then she said his name.

He didn't look at her. He made his muscles lock, halting in the slow process of pulling himself upright, so he couldn't look at her. Instead he concentrated at the floor beneath their feet, the mirrored planes now flawed with broken shards and dustings of mirrored powder from the surrounding destruction. A tiny, traitorous thought: he still had some power. It might be enough. It was his world, after all, and ultimately subject to his wish. He could bend reality every which way until all the loops and curves of it became... well, a maze. He could stop this. Maybe there was enough power left to reverse whatever was happening, to weave himself back into the fabric of now and hold everything together by sheer force of will. If he could find his feet, he could save them all. If only he used that power to save himself first.

And there was a moment – one shining, effortless instant – when he understood what love was.

He looked up.

"Hold her still," he said tersely. "Otherwise, it won’t work."

Sarah appeared to struggle even harder at that. Of course. Because it wouldn't be within her to ever make something easy, would it?

Wretched girl.

At least the boy seemed to understand the situation now. He was wrapping his arms even more tightly around the kicking, screaming Sarah. Apparently it was as still as she was going to get. Jareth held out his hand, noticing dispassionately that it shook rather badly. Shrugging to himself, he began to concentrate.

"Let me go!"

Having her scream in the background wasn't helping. Silently gritting his teeth, Jareth forced himself to not care, to ignore it. She could throw all the hysterical fits she wanted once she was safe.

She reached out to him – he knocked her hand aside roughly, swearing to himself that if she made him mess this up he'd move heaven and earth just to bring her back and kill her all over again. He wanted to scream at her: why this, why now, when he was finally giving her the victory she'd wanted all along – why was she still fighting him?

She gave a sad, hurt little gasp at the blow. Damn her.

He made the mistake, though, of throwing one last glace her way, where it caught and held and he found himself unable to turn away from her wide, wild eyes. Even as he cursed himself for risking precious seconds – cursed her – he hesitated.

"I’m sorry," she whispered brokenly. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you."

No.

He might have a few moments to spare. He would only tell her --

No.

He didn't have time for this.

"I know," he said simply. His concentration turned inward.

"Jareth!"

They faded from sight as gently as the morning mist.

As if that were some silent signal, the castle walls began to shake in earnest. The ceiling began to break apart, huge bricks dislodging and tumbling down towards the earth, taking out structures as they went. Sheets of mirrors crumpled like paper, falling away from the stairs in rainbows of prismatic light. They crashed to earth like comets, splintering upon contact into showers of fragmented glass.

He'd done the right thing. Made the right choice. Grasped the sliver of humanity offered him and held on tight. But it didn't change anything. His victory tasted like ashes. He just felt curiously heavy – and tired. So very, very tired.

And alone.

Jareth slid to the floor, weary of fighting his own helplessness. Idly, he tilted his head up. Through the broken ceiling he could glimpse patches of the evening sky: cold, clear stars shining against the darkness of the night.

He'd sung her a lullaby about those stars.

Without ceremony, the Goblin King died.

He was complete.

He reached out to trace the dark red words on the pages before him, now absent of suspiciously blank passages. The back of his knuckles brushed the smooth vellum and he let the touch linger, somehow tentative, perhaps caressing. He leaned back, shoulders loose, letting the tension drain from his angled frame.

He’d been so very, very wrong. About so much.

It hit him like a physical blow and he had a moment of weakness, a minute where he could do nothing but press a hand, hard, against his mouth and cry a few tears of mingled relief and regret.

That was when the pain hit.

He gave a sharp shout, taken unawares, then managed to bite it back. The pain seared his palms, made him clench them protectively tight. He leaned on his fists, driving them against the floor as if he would sink them into cool, numbing stone. Distantly, he caught the scent of burning flesh.

It stopped.

He sat back on his ankles, wincing as he cautiously opened up his hands. At the sight of the damage, he scowled.

Damn. He’d managed to forget this part.

It made sense, though. Now that the last part of him was restored, his old self was – well, restored. Down to the smallest detail.

He was too tired to conjure gloves. He slipped the record back into place on its shelf, in the library that floated effortlessly atop a piecemeal staircase reaching into the sky. A convenient solution presented itself in the form of long-rotted tapestries, now hanging in threadbare tatters on the half-formed walls. He ripped a length away, and then another, wrapping one around each hand, carefully tucking the frayed ends in so that they wouldn't come loose and unravel. Now his hands were appropriately covered, all but his fingers hidden from view. It was a makeshift solution, but it would serve the moment.

He made his way back down the stairs – taking them two, three at a time, with such ease and carelessness it looked as if he were falling back to earth.

"He's comin' down. We should run."

"Verily! Art thou ready to take to the hills, Sir Ludo?"

A determined rumble.

"Really, this paranoia is utterly inexcusable. What, may I ask, has he ever done to you -- any of you?"

"Threatened t'dip me in the Bog of Eternal Stench --"

"Sir Ludo and myself were most cruelly confined to our post for years, snatched away from former duty to dwell in solitude --"

" -- plus all that stuff he did t'Sarah last time, well, he did it to me, too, 'cause she's my friend --"

"LUDO WANTED DOWN!"

"Prithee, dear brother, lower your impressive voice. Though I am sure, only the noblest of knights could have withstood such torture as you endured -- to be strung up and baited!"

" -- and didn't you tell us he threatened t'use your head for ninepins and your great ears for napkins if you ever bothered him for another of his records, which is why you moved out of the Castle before Sarah came back?"

There was a moment of consideration.

"Right then," someone resumed, determined. "I'm with the fox, the hills will offer the most substantial cover until we get far enough away to deter pursuit."

"Sirrah! I am not a fox!"

"Librarian."

They froze, a perfect tableau of four creatures on the verge of fight or flight -- it could have gone either way. As one, they turned.

Jareth was watching impassively just beyond their hiding place. You would have thought he hadn't heard a word of their discussion -- except his mouth had a tendency to quiver at the corners.

"Librarian, I'd like a word with you."

Reticent, Chaucer had already ducked his head and made as if to move towards his liege, when --

"He’s got a name."

Jareth paused. His gaze focused on the truculent figure before him – a knobby-featured dwarf dressed in a gardener’s uniform of pants and jerkin. "What did you say?"

"I said, he’s got a name," Hoggle replied mutinously, glaring from beneath formidably bushy eyebrows. "Sarah gave it to him."

After a moment’s hesitation Jareth transferred his gaze to the demon under discussion, whose scabby skin turned a – rather becoming – shade of pink at the attention.

"Ah, yes," Jareth finally spoke, considering. "I remember now. She called you Chaucer."

Chaucer croaked, fluttering his hands in a bashful gesture.

"Do you wish to keep it? The name, I mean."

The spindly-limbed created nodded vigorously, spectacles slipping down his nose.

"I won’t forget again." Jareth grew noticeably cooler as he turned from ex-librarian to ex-gardener. "Should I thank you for the reminder?"

Hoggle ducked his head. "Wasn’t lookin’ for thanks."

"Nevertheless." Jareth's unnerving eyes lingered on the Hoggle. "On second thought, it's you I want to speak with."

"Me?" Hoggle's head shot up, eyes wide with something that looked suspiciously like panic. "Why?"

"I have the terrible suspicion it might be good for me." Hooking his thumbs into his jean pockets, Jareth began to pick his way through the rubble surrounding the Castle's ruins. After a few steps he turned.

"Coming?" His tone was easy, but it was most definitely a challenge.

Hoggle, grumbling, followed after.

The two of them wandered only a little way away -- out of earshot, though still visible to the others. Jareth chose a particularly large clumping of craggy boulders, which looked like they'd once served as part of the outer walls and gate, and easily found a comfortable perch. Hoggle took a bit longer, brushing away debris and making a huge production out of finding a flat space large enough to accommodate him, and close enough to the ground.

Jareth watched him wriggle for a few minutes, finding the softest spot. "Comfortable?" he asked.

His only reply was a sharp grunt and a long, hard look.

"Is something wrong?"

"Don't mean disrespect," Hoggle muttered. "But..."

"Go on."

Hoggle glared everywhere but the immediate area around Jareth. "You've changed."

"Everything does."

The dwarf squinted skeptically at the sky. "What, everythin'?"

"Eventually."

The sky was unresponsive, so he switched back to the ground. "Huh."

"I did have help."

"Huh." The ground seemed similarly impervious to Hoggle's derision, so he kicked it lightly, skirting up a cloud of dust. "How is she, anyway?"

Jareth glanced at his reticent companion. "Took you this long to ask? Patience didn't use to be your virtue."

Hoggle shrugged.

"You must have wondered about her over the years."

Hoggle was suddenly -- extremely -- interested in the condition of his fingernails.

"Hoggle."

The dwarf threw up his gnarled hands in a gesture of defeat. "We peeked, okay? You left a few of those damn shiny crystal lyin' around and the demon couldn't stop tinkerin' with them because he can't leave well enough alone, noooooooooo, he's got to try and take the things apart and see what makes 'em tick! Scientific exploration, he calls it. Stickin' his big nose where it doesn't belong is what I call it!" He scowled, scratching the back of his neck. "Anyway. He figured out how to make it show things. Sometimes, anyway. We always looked for her."

"What did you see?"

Hoggle turned an accusing gaze on Jareth. "She cries a lot."

"Not for the reason you might think."

"Still. Still your fault in the end, right? Had somethin' to do with it, right?"

Jareth's slight smile faded. "Yes."

"So... how is she?"

"I don't know." He lay back against the rocks, arms folded under his head. His nonchalant tone sounded forced. "I've been... in a new place. Not one you know of, not in the Underground. The time there moves even faster than the Aboveground's -- I could spend centuries in the Labyrinth, and only a few minutes would pass in the place I have been."

"So what?"

"So," Jareth continued, sounding slightly impatient, "I didn't leave her that long ago, according to the time of that place. A fortnight at most. But." He drew a deep, unsteady breath. "It's been longer for Sarah."

"What, weeks? Months?"

Jareth was silent, staring up into bruise-dark, twilight sky.

"How long?" Hoggle demanded, voice harder. "How long has it been for Sarah?"

"Years," Jareth finally spoke, looking as if the admission pained him. "It's been years, for her."

Hoggle's head snapped up as he stared, unabashedly agog, at his ruler -- aware, of course, that Jareth couldn't see him. "Y'sure?"

"Most definitely."

Hoggle blinked and then returned, dogged, to his original line of questioning. "But how was she? When you left, I mean?"

"Not at her best, I'm afraid."

Hoggle was suddenly angry, clenching his stubby hands into fists, shoulders hunched as he leaned in, ready to attack. "Y'messed up again, didn't you? Didn't you?"

No answer.

"What is it this time, huh? You lied to her? Betrayed her? Showed her your worst?"

"Yes." The words sounded oddly distant, disconnected, released into the air to float away. "Will she forgive me?"

Hoggle lost it.

"How th'hell should I know?" he burst out, face turning ruddy with emotion, voice growing louder and louder as his rant gained momentum. "I haven't seen her in centuries! Not that if I did I'd persuade her to go over, f'that's what you're thinkin'. So what makes me an expert on her forgiveness?"

"She gave it to you, once -- for similar crimes."

Hoggle swung to his feet, roughly brushing the dirt off his – already rather grimy – clothes. It was probably the most attention he’d ever given them.

"Hoggle."

The dwarf slowed his ministrations. "Yeah. She did."

They were both quiet for a moment, remembering regrettable pasts.

"Gotta ask yourself one question, though."

"What would that be?"

Hoggle threw him a scornful look. "Y’gonna make her cry again?"

He thought he heard Jareth give a tiny, sad little sigh. "I don’t know."

"Then maybe y’should leave her alone." He made as if to leave, then stopped and turned back. "Y'said everythin' changes," he began again, with unaccustomed heat. "Well, yeah, she forgave me. But it's been a while. Maybe she's a different person. Maybe she's changed."

He trudged back to his friends and they left together, still bickering, until their voices faded into the distance.

Jareth lay on his sandy rocks long after Hoggle had departed, long after the sun had set, until the cold and the darkness covered him like a blanket. He looked up at the sky, throat exposed in a long line of pale, vulnerable flesh.

"Even the stars have changed," he whispered.

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Author's Notes:

This one's for Sax, because A) the 'returned memory' scene was the scene I sent to her, anxiously awaiting conformation that I had not turned into an Awful Writer in my long hiatus/ that it worked in context of AFoD and B) it keeps making her cry. And I loooooooove making her cry.

Few things.

One, as I pointed out to 'neversaynever' recently, has erased all my carefully inserted 'smiley faces' that let you know when I am, in fact, joking or pulling your chain. Darn them. Consequently I sound awfully stern, so just picture me with a perpetual half-grin on my face, yeah?

Two, this was a Regularly Scheduled Update, which is nice, but Eight might take a wee bit longer. I'm doing a LOT of things in the next few weeks, some of them Life-Altering. So fanfic is nudged to the side a bit. I shouldn't be gone more than three or four weeks, though.

Three: I'd like to encourage those people who tell me they 'caught typos' to, y'know, TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE. (The caps are to attract attention, not to signify anger.) I'd really, really love that. Really. Especially as uploading process seems to alter my documents in the process. Gah.

Four: If you're not reading these notes, you suck, and I'm not going to answer questions I have clearly answered in them. Tough.

The following people gave this chapter the once-over for me: AllisonHarvey, Saxonny, and Sabrina . I love them for it.

Also, about my replies: I don't know if I've every brought this up, but I call people pet names: love, sweetheart, doll... Honest, it's my way of showing affection. (I'm Southern. Just around the edges, but still.) If it bothers anyone, let me know!

Just to drive it home:

EIGHT MAY TAKE A WHILE TO COME OUT (three to four weeks). I'M REALLY BUSY WITH BOTH SCHOOL AND LIFE IN MAJOR, UN-PUT-OFF-ABLE WAYS. PLEASE BE PATIENT.

Whew. Hopefully that got everyone's attention.

Moonjava Thank you!

Bratling Heh -- yup, I'm back!

Sarsalot Heheh. Yeah, you and your crazy eye for the details. Yes, she does have it... though she doesn't know she has it. An yes, that's exactly it -- you are mad brilliant. Sarah? Oh, Sarah is... around... heh.

RoksaraThank you!

Alionya Yup, I came back! S'good to be back... and thanks!

melata Mmm, Athan and Aracelis have an awfully complicated relationship... it may take a while, but we will eventually see how it all came to be. (Actually, not so much a while, we cover it up to a point in Nine!) And thank you, thank you, thank you.

Chicanery: Yay! Sorry about your throat! (Hee.) And yes, I'm so glad we've chatted in the Escher Room! Thanks for the lovely review.

iamascientist Heh. I am a total Garbage/Poe girl; anything they do I am on like white on rice. But I'm so, so glad you're enjoying the stories -- keep me updated so I know how I'm doing...

CelingFan Hee! The fanfic habit is never kicked. It only hibernates until it may rise and bite you in the ass again. I know from experience. And to be perfectly honest, I'm still working out the kinks of the ending -- I pitched all of my plans for the final arc of the story, so a lot of it's up in the air... thanks for the review!

Kristin: Oh, Sleeping Beauty. What a beautiful score. No wonder you cried! But thank you -- yes, Athan and Aracelis will have their own story, though to a limited extent. (Or not so limited. See above review, aka Kinks Being Worked Out.) It's good to be back!

Alorindanya Thank you, hon! Yes, I love the Fearsome Foursome with all my angsty heart; couldn't resist sticking them back in. And thank you, doll... Actually, the 'princess' is Sarah -- it's the meaning of her name!

Lady Tremere: Thank you SO MUCH for pointing out those typos, hon -- you're a lifesaver. And of course, the rest. Didymus was (is) my favorite, as well. There's just something about him.

Solea SOLEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! (glomp) Oh my GOD where did you go? I emailed you but never heard back and assumed you were AWOL. How are you, doll? And you're writing again? Lovely. And thanks for the review, and saying hi once more.

Mesopotamia Thank you so much. Well, this one was a Regularly Scheduled Update, and we should see more of them in the future -- Eight, however, may take a tad longer. Ever read Woolf's 'A Room of One's Own,' where she argues you need a room of your own to be quiet and undisturbed in? I presently lack that. Gyah. Makes writing... spotty at best. But I'll do my best!

Shiegra Awww! But the black lambs are the cute ones! (grin) And thank you so much for the extra reviews on Digital Quill -- you're a sweetheart.

girltype Yay! Glad you liked it! Well, we may have to wait a while for Sarah, but we got Jareth a'plenty here, trust me. But thank you so, so much for a wonderful, heart-warming review.

Velf Woohoo! Best thing ever is when other people write and ascribe it to me. It shamelessly stokes my ego. (grin) And good LORD, woman! You've done well! (I'm really wowed by your review count. Can I go around telling people I'm your inspiration? Heehee. Joking...) I definitely have to trip over and take a look some time -- feel free to poke me if I forget -- as I personally loved 'Spirited Away' with my heart and soul. Best wishes from a fellow curly-haired redhead...

Annie: Thanks so much! You're gonna have to wait a while for Sarah, though...

LadyRhiyanaThank YOU for reviewing, and such a nice one, too!

Silver Salamander: Heh heh. Flatterer! And thank you so much. All the questions will be... OK, maybe not answered. But given compound complexities. Fun, yeah?

Shelby (hugs) You're very sweet, and incredibly encouraging. Thank you, doll.

Vaude Thanks so much! Heh -- yeah, cliffhangers are kinda my thing. They give me a point to come back to, it helps in the long run.

Xanda Thank you so much! And I hope you enjoyed this chapter, as well.

Metallicfire Thanks SO much, love. (watches your cartwheels in admiration, as she can't do 'em for beans) I hope you continue to enjoy...

musicgirl141: Hee. The questions I can't answer expect through the story, you're right, but I DO enjoy knowing you're involved and inquisitive about the narrative. So thanks for that -- and thanks for a great review. And yes, except for some isolated incidents, his books are filled with 'time passed' up until the 13th.

Amber Evans Potter: Thanks so much!

Midnight Lady: YAAAAAAAAAY! (grabs your hands and dances around the room) One of the best pleasures of 'returning' is getting to see all my old compadres, and I have missed you, luv. I hope you're well, and I'm so glad you enjoyed the latest chapter and are still sticking around to wait for me to get my ass in gear. I can't answer questions -- I'll wait until the story's all finished, and take them then. (Heehee.) But. Thanks so much for reviewing!

pruningshears HAPPY BIRTHDAY! (Whee!) Twenty is an awesome age, IMO. (She says from the lofty position of all of her 21 years.) Gack! People have so many questions, which is good, but I just can't answer them right now! Eventually, though, I promise. And thanks so much for the review, and I'm glad you're enjoying it... and yes, Sarah is... well. When we finally get back to Sarah, the story will kick into a whole 'nother gear. Just you wait.

connor Yeah, a very long ride -- and I'm glad you're enjoying it. And yup! Looks like I managed to get it in on time... Eight might take a tad longer, though. Busy time. Yech. Thanks for reviewing!

sheena (grin) Not blasphemy -- makes me feel less guilty for including even MORE OCs, at least! I'm glad you like them -- sit tight for a chapter or so and we'll get a chunk of their story, I promise. Roksana... can take care of herself. Trust me.

Ashes2: Heeheehee. Yeah. I like that kind of thing. Sorry! (Though not, really.) Heh heh -- to be perfectly honest, I have no idea how my Yahoo group has thrived, given my fanfiction's extensive neglect. Hmm. Maybe that's the secret ingredient? (Joking, joking, I'm back on the wagon with my grip on the reins.) Thanks!

Maq Thank YOU. Oh, and in future, feel free to point out those suckers. (Typos.) I would appreciate it!

Emajor Thank you so much! I hope you continue to enjoy.

Illowy I got your email! Yay! We can keep in touch, now. Heh heh. Yeah, about the end... nyyyaaah. (grin)

jumping-jo Thanks!

Your Worshipfulness: Woohoo! Look, if the Son of the Morning offers you his blue-light special, take a pass. It's only partially assembled, and I had to bargain up to my firstborn child to get the rest. And welcome to the Soulless Writer's club! We have tea and scones! ... (grin) All silliness aside, thanks so much. Let me know if I stray off the rails...

ThistleDemon Heh heh. You know, I think he IS a red wine man. But as you can see, it's a bit hard to torture the culprit in question. Not that he wouldn't try, but... ah, well. Heh. It'll take a bit, but random cuddles will return. Oooh! Puppet! (snatches greedily)

rx-patient Thanks so much!

draegon-fire Aw! Well, hey, whenever you can get around to it, I'd love to see what you have to say. And like I've told others, the ending is not even set in stone yet... so we'll see!

SeventhSpanishAngel12: Thanks!

kaio (mwa) Here there, you! Thanks for the WONDERFUL review -- I can't answer the questions, but I hope this chapter helped!

AngelwingsDevilhorns Aw, now you're making me blush. Thank YOU! And, um, thanks again! (is really truly blushing) I hope it happens someday...

mcfly85: Thank you, thank you, thank you... I always sound like a broken record, but never know what else to say! Your review thrilled me. And I'm glad you like Brian and Nikki -- I might have some plans for them, we'll see... And no offense taken over the Pullman thing -- to be honest, I'm a huge fan of his style and skill, just not his using his own books to be a soapbox for his personal issues. (grrr) Story above all. ABOVE ALL! (... oooookaaay, no more soda after midnight.) And, um. You guys ROCK. What if I told you I was working on it? (grin)

kayly silverstorm: Thank you! And yes, Sarah has been deliberately... well. You'll see.

CiraArana I will admit without shame that I absolutely cannot WAIT for your 'official' review. People are always apologizing for 'rambling' in reviews, but I love long reviews like I love big, fat, gooey mouthfuls of chocolate fudge. I am shameless that way. So! I hope you continue to enjoy, and I await with bated breath.

lilemmy Awesome. I will schedule the vows before the fan who wanted to be buried with it, just in case. (winks) And I have been known to swear, publicly and in many places, that WDMC will not be abandoned. Now I gotta stick to it. And thanks for the lovely review.

SmartAlek Thanks! And, well. I've got at least a couple tricks up my sleeve.

Keito-chan Thanks so much! Hope you keep enjoying...

Nora: You weren't harassing me AT ALL, and I'm so sorry if I gave off that impression. (I admit, I do come off a lot sterner in my replies since decided to erase all my carefully inserted 'smiley faces,' darn them. I have retaliated with an excess of exclamation points.) I just don't want anyone to think this fic was left alone for so long because I'd lost interest, or because it wasn't a high priority to me anymore. It has never stopped being a high priority, and hopefully it never will -- it just gets shoved out of the queue from time to time by more immediate concerns. Again, I didn't think you were giving me a hard time, and I'm so sorry if I sounded chastising. I know how frustrating it can be when the fate of a story you care about is in someone else's hands, and the fact that you cared enough to leave your review touched me, truly. (As your second one did as well.) How can I say this without sounding affected or self-important... I do want to be an author in my own right, with my own stuff. But I don't want to be just a writer. I want to be a storyteller, and the term, to me, implies involving the hearts of readers and not just their minds. Reading fanfic has long lost this kind of effect on me, but then I get emails or reviews from people who are touched by fanfic in this way, mine in this particular case. And I'm angry at myself for not being more careful with other people's emotions, for not making time to finish WDMC. And I bet some of that seeps into my replies as well. So if I did snap at you, again I apologize, because it wasn't about you or what you said. (grins) Sorry, this has become much more than you bargained for, I bet. Just to reinstate: thank you. Thank you for reading, thank you for caring (to whatever degree). The fact that I may be able to get people to care never ceases to amaze me. And it's that kind of encouragement that makes me think that writing is the best damn job in the whole world.

OutInTheStorm You are a total doll, and I adore you. Honestly I do.

Tor Walker: THANK you -- hope you continue to enjoy.

janine Oh, thank you! Yes, Athan and Aracelis seem to be very popular, which surprises me -- but don't worry, they have involvement in the story. They'll be around. (Oooh, are you at Bowienet? VERY cool.)

SynD (mwa) Thank you so much, sweetheart.

Nonsequitur Yup, m'back! (grin) They cannot keep me down. And thank you for a multitude of compliments in a thoughtful and eloquent review -- it was a real treat to receive. I look forward to hearing from you in the future -- I hope you keep me updated, regardless of whether or not your impressions are always so complimentary. I value all kinds of feedback. Once again, thank you so much for taking the time to leave a wonderful review!

Pia Bartolini: Thank you so much! And good luck with finals -- I'm on my own, uhg.

SaxonnyBOOOOOOOOOOTHER! (hee)

The Crazy Cricket: Hmmm, let's see... ten months or so? Heh. Don't worry, I am twisty like a bag of cheetos. (And apparently really, really corny when tired.) But don't worry -- it's not like I throw these things in at will, I know what each of the twists will lead up to. And I love inspiring others to write -- good luck! And thank you!

thewindrider278: Thank you so much!

Catherine: Oh, thank you so much! That's really sweet of you -- and I'm glad people are reading the LJ, if only so they know I've got my finger on the WDMC pulse. Best! (mwa)

sasori Thank you so much!

I Wish I Was Kermit: Unfortunately, cliffhangers are rather here to stay -- it's not so much to keep people reading as my own tactic to keep me WRITING. I have an interesting place to pick up at, and it makes starting chapters (something which can be a real bitch) much easier. And thank you so much, as always.

Sketch: Man, I could KISS you for telling me to 'take my time.' You rock so hard. MWA. And, as always, thank you!

atsuibelulah Never meant otherwise! Thanks!

neversaynever ... okay, we talked tone at Trafalgar. (And it just amuses me we can say that.) Phew, um... Athan's history will be further explored, I promise, and soon. As for the rest... well. It's a long story. (Heh.) Thanks for the review, hon!

May: Thanks for reviewing! Can't warn you about the ending, yet, I haven't decided on one.

Dea Mariella: Wow, thank you so much! Glad you're liking it.

Secret Heart: ... wow, I'm a little impressed you read AFOD, and yet stuck with it! (Let me know what you think of 'Forfeit,' if you would, I'm awfully curious what it's like to read them out-of-order.) But thank you so much, and hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.

Serenditu Aracelis, but it doesn't really matter. I refuse to answer any more of your questions, though. (wink) You'll just have to read and find out...

Evy Heehee! Thanks! I'm so glad you're having fun reading my stuff...

Leni Actually, I do feel that way about Forfeit -- WDMC is 'unofficial,' after all! (Heh.) But of course, I want to see where it takes me. (giggles) Well, I hope after all that, you actually enjoyed the chapter -- thanks for a lovely review!

pepsitasteslikecrap Thanks so much!

LadySeradeRETURNS Your new penname. ROCKS. (grin) Hello, lovey. Missed you absolutely madly; am asking for your # again when I have phone and am in States. Otherwise, this Tuesday must bring down the city around our ears. They musn't see us coming. (grin) Speaking of which... MUST HAVE MORE ASL! (weep) And did you ever get the reviews I left for you the day your account died? I can re-post them on your site.