As The World Falls Down

Chapter 10

As frustrated as it was starting to make you, the abundance of fae magic interwoven through the castle made you feel a bit more at ease. You found yourself stepping down stone stairwells that had you arriving at the same destination multiple times, despite them being on opposite ends of a wing, or glancing at portraits of fae men and women that winked at you before returning to their lifeless poses. Despite the confusion, you guessed there had to be about nine or ten stories in total, the hallways similar in their simple decoration of jewel toned tapestries, paintings and long, sprawling evergreen carpets, yet each of the rooms sported their own, unique theme. Despite sporting elaborate keyholes in ornate door knobs, all of the knobs turned easily and sprung their locks at your touch. It gave you a buzz every time a latch clicked and a door swung open, knowing that the whole castle was available for you, readily waiting at your fingertips.

After making your way up and down the levels, you decided to spend some extra time on the seventh floor, finding it a little bit different than the other floors you had passed through. The staircase leading you to it brought you to the very end of the hallway, and when you peered down it, you could see the tall window at the other end that was in the previous hallways as well had sheer golden curtains drawn over it, letting in much less light. The carpet was the same deep green as the others, but when you walked down it, it felt like soft, cool grass on your bare feet. The other factor setting it apart was that there were far fewer rooms, only three on each side of the hallway, and when you tried to open the door of the first, it didn't give right away. The doorknob was cold, shifted awkwardly and stuck randomly, but gave in defeatedly when you pressed a burst of your own fae magic into it from the palm of your hand. When you stepped into the room and found yourself fumbling for a light switch in the dimness, the hairs on the back of your neck stood and your ears pricked, feeling a pair of unseen eyes on you. Whatever this place was, Jareth definitely wasn't keen on having you here.

Yet, when you found a light, you found the room to be rather unassuming. Bookshelves lined the walls, their shelves full of well loved, soft leather bound books, as well as a variety of smooth glass fidgets that hovered dangerously on the edge. A tan corduroy couch centered the room, resting on an autumnal circular rug that faced a fireplace nestled into the northern wall. When you approached it, you could see a charred log in its mouth, and by the amber glow the log hid in its very core, you concluded that a certain someone had been here rather recently. A pillow on the couch cradled a large red book, and when you picked it up, you blinked in disbelief when you realized that the title was in your native tongue. When you inspected the books on the shelves, you found them all to be written in that same language, and you finally concluded this had to be his private library.

Across from the library was a lavish bathroom that boasted bright, sourceless light that bounced off of the spotless marble walls, making you blink uncomfortably as you adjusted. A tall, gold framed mirror was off to the left of the clawfoot bathtub, the porcelain basin an impressive size that made you imagine how comfortable it would be to sink into, up to your chin in warm, soapy water. A hook to the side of the mirror held a fluffy purple bathrobe, and you made sure not to spend too much time looking at it, knowing that any reminder of the silken robe Jareth had worn (and discarded) last night would leave you blushing as red as a beet.

The next two rooms proved to be entirely empty and dark, save for some loose furniture and sheets, and you left them feeling unfulfilled. Something about this hallway felt unfinished to you. There has to be more, you thought to yourself, revisiting the rooms you had already looked at before standing before the grand window covered in those golden curtains. They didn't seem to be made of the typical, heavy material that the curtains in the dining hall were made of, so you reached out to feel them in your fingers. When the material touched your skin, you immediately knew the delicate, stretchy material as you pushed it between your thumbs and let it fall past your fingers.