A/N: Wow. Um, hi everybody. Is anyone still out there? I'm not going to bore you with pathetic excuses as to why this story hasn't been updated in months. I'll just keep it simple: I've been extremely busy. :P If you're not too angry at me for leaving this story alone for so long, please enjoy this tiny peace offering. I can't promise a fast update after this, but know that I have not given up on this story!

xXx

Sarah's mouth dropped in shock, and she found herself unable to speak. The tall Fae drew closer, and in terror, she pressed herself even tighter against the desk.

"C-come any closer and... and I'll scream." she gasped, finally finding her voice. The Fae drew a little closer held out one hand as he knelt to her level.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said quickly, voice smoother than silk, "Don't scream." Sarah blanched and shook her head. Opening and closing her mouth, she groped for words.

"Leave me alone." she whispered, edging away from the desk, "If you leave now, I won't tell anyone you were here." She reached the end of the desk and began scooting backwards. However, the movement sent a shot of pain through her ankle, and she stopped suddenly, face contorting into a grimace. She clamped her hands over her swollen ankle, but quickly retracted them when the action hurt even more.

"I can fix your ankle," the Fae pressed, coming even closer, "Just relax."

Sarah wanted to protest, thrash, scream, kick, yell... anything to get attention! However her ankle was hurting more and more, and instead, all that came out of her mouth was a whimper. So weak! she berated herself, Pull yourself together Sarah!

"I give my word that no harm will befall you." the Fae told her, breaking her from her thoughts, "I bear no ill will." Sarah sucked in a breath, thinking for a moment.

"You give your word?" she asked, hesitant to trust this stranger. Only moments before he had been an owl! How could she be sure he wouldn't attempt something indecent?

"On my life." he replied seriously, "I swear to it. You will not be harmed."

Sarah closed her eyes in shock and deliberation. He swore on his life; the ultimate promise for a Fae. Surely he couldn't be lying after such an oath as that. It practically violated all Fae mores. From what she knew, no Fae would ever violate a life-oath. Finally, she gave him a nearly imperceptible nod.

"All right." she whispered, eyes still shut, dearly hoping she made the right decision. The Fae moved forward slowly, doing his best not to startle her with sudden movement. He grasped her bare (and slightly muddy) foot with one hand, and circled her ankle with the other. Muttering something under his breath, Sarah's eyes shot open as she recognized the words to be Fae. She had never heard them before, but before she could wonder too much about them, the bones in her ankle snapped back into place.

The Fae's hand clapped over her mouth just as she screamed in agony and shock, and in the very back of her mind, Sarah was grateful of that. However, the pain was so intense that she felt dizzy, and had to lean back on her elbows in order to keep from toppling over. Meanwhile, the Fae was saying something.

..."I apologize... didn't want...anticipate the pain...only make it worse..." Sarah shook her head, clearing out the cobwebs. He was apologizing for something. The pain maybe? It was already fading, and as her mind cleared, she realized she needed to get off the floor.

"Help me up?" she ground out through clenched teeth, holding out her arm. She wasn't going to stay in that improper position a minute longer. Standing up, the Fae extended his hand and took hold of hers. "The pain won't last long." he informed her, "Your ankle is completely healed; you can walk on it now." Nodding distractedly, Sarah gripped his hand a little too hard, still getting over the pain of having her bones re-rearrange themselves. The Fae winced and guided her over to the desk, seating her down at the chair.

The room became uncomfortable, as the Fae stood awkwardly at her side and little jolts of pain were still traveling up and down Sarah's leg, making her slightly distracted. The Fae seemed to be studying her room, eyes finally landing on her desk, scattered with poetry and translations. Had Sarah been paying attention, she would have seen his eyes widen slightly in recognition at the words. However, she was doing her best not to look at the stranger and was instead staring at her floor. Finally, after what seemed like eternity and when she couldn't take the silence any longe, Sarah blurted out, "I'm Sarah."

Raising an eyebrow, the Fae looked amused. "Is that so?" he asked. Sarah wanted to crawl into a hole. How embarrassing.

"Yes." she answered, shifting uncomfortably. She paused, and then added, "Well are you... you know... going to tell me your name?" This time, the Fae actually smirked and Sarah's cheeks flamed. Where was this brazenness coming from?

"Since you asked so politely." the Fae replied sarcastically with a deep bow, "My name is Jareth." He walked around to face Sarah from the other side of the desk.

"Just Jareth?" Sarah asked curiously, "Forgive me if I seem rude, but from what I've read, Fa- your kind have more than one name."

Jareth shook his head amusedly. "And I'm certain you have more than just Sarah as your name."

"Touché"

Glancing around the room, Jareth spoke up at length. "Well I suppose I must take my leave." He flexed his shoulder, testing how it felt. Now in his human form, he was able to relieve the soreness with magic, and he did so, leaving it better than before. Walking over to the window, he turned around. "Thank you, Sarah." he said, "I am grateful for your assistance, and I apologize that I caused you to inure yourself in the process."

He's leaving? Sarah knew of course, that it was the only reasonable and proper thing to do, however, she was disappointed. She'd never actually been able to speak to a Fae about anything but court matters; this was exciting. She had so many questions she could ask him, so many things to observe and say. Depending on the outcome of the war, she might never have such a chance as this again.

"Thank you," she replied instead of voicing her displeasure. It would be highly improper and completely implausible to ask him to stay anyway. She stood up slowly and walked around her desk, "For fixing my ankle." she continued, "I wasn't quite sure what I would tell everyone when they asked what happened."

Jareth smirked again. "You are welcome Lady Sarah."

"Princess." Sarah correctly automatically. Then realizing what she had given away, she clapped both hands over her mouth in horror. Oh no. Jareth's smirk faded and he turned completely away from the window, taking a step closer to her.

"Princess?" he repeated. Sarah slid her hands up to press against her forehead. "What have I done?" she moaned to herself, and then added after a moment, "Yes. Princess."

Obviously thinking very hard, Jareth stated, "You are not an elf." It was more of a question. Sarah shook her head.

"I'm the mortal Karen's sister." she said reluctantly, lowering her hands, "I know you can't see much of a resemblance." She laughed bitterly.

All of the blood seemed to have left Jareth's face. "Oh gods." he whispered, "You're her sister." He seemed to sway just a little.

"Who are you?" Sarah demanded, now seriously concerned over who she may have brought into the castle, "You're not just any Fae, are you?" she stopped short and blanched. "You're not... you're not King Menelaus are you?"

With a mirthless chuckle, Jareth shook his head. "No," he replied hoarsely, "I'm not Menelaus. I am Jareth Androcles Gaylen Lysandersson the First, King of the Goblins."

The name "Lysandersson" and the title King of the Goblins struck a bell in Sarah's mind. "King of the goblins, king of the goblins," she muttered, "Why does that sound so-" she stopped, eyes widening in horror.

"You're High Heir!" she gasped, panic etched across her face. He was her future High King. "Oh my... oh gods..." Sarah trailed off, too shocked to form a coherent sentence. This was too much to take in. Neither said a thing, too shocked and horrified; the silence was deafening and felt like it was closing around on her, smothering her with its weight. However, before Sarah could become hysterical from it, Jareth broke the silence.

"I suppose it doesn't need saying that we won't speak of this. Ever." he stated cooly. Slightly taken aback by his formal tone, Sarah shook her head.

"You won't hear a word from me." she assured quickly. Jareth nodded in approval.

"And I shall keep silent as well." he replied, "Goodbye Princess Sarah." Sarah cringed at the emphasis, but dropped a curtsey.

"Farewell your highness," she bade softly. The Goblin King turned around and prepared to switch forms, but Sarah's voice stopped him.

"I guess this means I won't see you ever again." Jareth froze at these words. Turning back around, he stared at her.

"That all hinges on this war." he said gravely. Sarah lowered her gaze and sighed. That's odd. Jareth frowned in confusion, She seems almost... unhappy to be here.

Hesitating, he asked slowly, "Are you discontent living in the Elven kingdom?"

Indignantly, Sarah's head shot back up. "How can you- how can you even ask such a thing of me?" she spluttered, groping for words, "Do you wish me dead?" She began to pace, his question obviously opening the gates to a flood of already well thought ideas. "If I answer yes, I commit treason against King Priam. If I answer you no, then I commit treason against you! You have me backed into a corner!" Her voice had been rising throughout her tirade, and now she was practically screaming.

"Keep your voice down!" Jareth hissed. The last thing he needed was to be caught. He could fly now that he had been able to heal his shoulder, but he doubted he would make it past the castle's archers once discovered. Footsteps passed by her door, and both Jareth and Sarah froze, afraid to even breathe. Suddenly, his eyes found hers, and they locked in a silent exchange as they both realized his safe escape lay in her hands.

"You'd better go." Sarah whispered, gesturing to the window. Jareth nodded and backed up, eyes still locked on hers. He sat on the window sill, and was about to jump off, when he stopped and looked as though he wanted to say something.

"You need to get out of here." Sarah pressed, "Hurry, before someone catches you." She walked over to the window, and for a moment, Jareth thought she might push him out. Instead, she simply placed both hands on the sill and looked out at the now moonlit ocean. "You have to leave now." she said softly, "You'll get caught if you stay any longer, and I'm sure your troops are missing you."

Surprising himself, Jareth took up one of Sarah's hands in his own. "Rest assured I won't forget this," he told her, eyes focused on their hands, "When we win this war, you will not have to be concerned for your well-being. As long as you are among Fae, you will be safe." And with that, he let go and tumbled backwards out of the window.

Sarah barely suppressed a shriek as he disappeared in a flutter of clothing; though she knew he would be fine, the abruptness startled her. Silence was even more important now that he was flying away, and Sarah was grateful she had enough self-control to keep quiet... -ish.

She watched the white owl fly over the castle wall without so much as a glance back, and only when he disappeared into the darkness did she turn away from the window. With a sigh, she began pulling off her damp clothing. It seemed almost impossible to go back to normal life after such a strange encounter.

He said 'when', she thought, dragging her chemise over her head, When they win the war. Is he so certain that they will? Tossing her soiled clothes carelessly in a corner, Sarah hurried to redress, the cool night air urging her to dress faster. She was probably going to catch a cold from wearing her wet clothes for so long, and her sister would be sure to ask about her split lip in the morning.

Goodness knows how big my lip will have swollen in the morning, she mused, I should get some ice to put on it. Maybe then it won't swell any larger. Now dressed in a clean night-shift, Sarah grabbed a robe out of her wardrobe and exited her room in hopes she would run into a servant.

As she tip-toed through the castle, Sarah realized that her ankle was completely healed. It didn't hurt at all, and felt good as new. The Fa- Goblin King- had done an excellent job. I wonder if I could learn how to do that. she pondered as she walked slowly down the stairs. She didn't want another tumble, and she kept a good grip on the stair railing to keep from tripping.

As she drew nearer to the kitchens, Sarah was surprised that she hadn't run into any other servants. The castle was strangely devoid of activity, which was unnerving. Sarah quickened her pace, feeling very uncomfortable with the eerie situation. Something obviously wasn't right. Breathing a sigh of relief, Sarah entered the kitchen, finding it still as full of servants as it had been earlier that day. However, her relief didn't last very long. One servant caught sight of her, and let out a shriek.

"Oh god! The princess too!"

Suddenly, Sarah was surrounded by a swarm of servants displaying various degrees of panic. She couldn't understand what any of them were saying, as they quickly plunked her down on a nearby stool and began fussing over her lip. Slowly, she managed to make out a few sentences through the mayhem.

"Princess! Are you all right?"

"Bring ice!"

"Who did this?"

"Did you see?"

"How many fingers am I holding up, your highness?"

"Get me some ice now!"

"Give her some breathing room!"

"Bloody hell! Where the blazes is that ice?"

Throwing her hands up, Sarah waved the servants off. "I'm all right." she protested, "I just need some ice for my lip." A young boy pushed through the small throng holding a chunk of ice wrapped in a napkin and handed it to her with a swift bow. Gratefully, Sarah pressed it to her lip and closed her eyes with a sigh. The ice was definitely helping.

"Your majesty," Madelin, the head cook, spoke up, "Who did this to you?" Sarah frowned and shook her head.

"No one did." she replied, voice muffled by the ice, "I fell down the stairs." There was a murmur that spread through the dozen or so servants surrounding her, and Sarah wished again that the Goblin King had healed her lip as well. Explaining that she had fallen down the stairs was humbling; and not in a good way.

"Did someone push you perhaps?" Sarah frowned in puzzlement.

"No one pushed me," she answered slowly, "Why would you ask something like that?"

The servants all looked at one another, as if hesitant to answer. Finally, the boy who gave her the ice spoke up.

"The king's study has been raided."

A/N: Maybe if you're not super mad at me, you could leave me a review?