As Isolde made her way up the front stairs to Jareth's estate, her mind was not on the present, but lost in her past. She was taking a deliberate, painful trip down memory lane, trying to trace the path that had led her here, to this moment, bound to a man who now filled her with revulsion.
With Jareth.
Isolde had lost her entire family during the war. She had been very little, but the memories were seared into her soul, not as clear pictures, but as nightmares: the smell of smoke as houses were razed, the piercing screams that cut through the night, the terrifying, coppery scent of blood. In the bleak aftermath, she was utterly alone, a small, silent cub in a world of devastation and grief.
