Disclaimer: As much as I would love to, I don't own The Hollow Kingdom trilogy. Neither do I own Harry Potter, which the quote below is from.

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm sorry it's been a while! It feels like a while, but maybe it wasn't. Anyways, expect updates anywhere from three days to a week. Since I've been rather busy lately, and I just caught a cold this week, it took a little longer. But no bother. I'm back anyways. Thanks for sticking with me. Well, I don't think I have much news. The only thing I should add that I'm planning on putting quotes up before each chapter. I hope you guys enjoy that. I rather think it adds a nice, more professional look to it. One thing I should like to add is that I apologize for the last chapter. I was told it was too fluffy and that Marak was too childish. I apologize, but that is one side of Marak. I tried to show that a little bit later in this chapter and mostly in the next so, yeah…Other than that I got some complaints about the movie sentence. I apologize about that as well. I didn't mean to be out of time period, I just wanted people to understand how she felt. Also, and most importantly, there was a question about how early Imogen fell for Marak. Since she's not a normal King's Wife, she fell in love with him during the afternoon tea chapter. She was struck by his honesty with her and his actual care for her. She did panic there when he kidnapped her but, that was just for a while. Well, enough ramble. Here's chapter nine!

It's changing out there. Just like last time.- Hagrid, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

- - -

The day went fast, leaving Imogen in a whirlwind of confusion. She couldn't even concentrate well. So many questions had been asked, so many goblins had wanted shake her hand. The noise had been so deafening that when she was helped into carriage again, she was instantly pulled out of her daze. "It's…quiet."

Marak grinned. "Amazing, isn't it?"

She gazed up at the ground ceiling above her. "What time is it? I can't tell."

"It's about seven in the evening."

"Seven?!"

He chuckled. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

"Yes. I'm actually starving." She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms.

"Is that so?" He put a mock look on his face, feigning thoughtfulness.

"Oh shut it." She pushed him jokingly.

He chuckled. "Well, now that you've asked nicely…" He scowled, pretending to be angry.

"Please?" She stuck out her bottom lip and made her eyes as wide as possible.

He hissed and turned away. "NO! Not the kitty eyes! Agh! I'm defenseless against them!" He wilted in his seat.

"Say yes or I'll do it more."

He sat up. "Geez, you're a hard mistress."

She chuckled. "I try."

"So, what are you up for?" He asked causally.

Her eyes narrowed. "You're planning something."

"Elf spit! How'd you guess?"

"I can see it in your eyes." She said, matter-of-factly.

"Smarty." He snickered.

"You're getting off the subject. What do you have planned?" She tapped her foot, impatient.

"Just a delicious meal together and then we'll be off for the grand ball."

Imogen sighed; she'd already forgotten that there was another ball to attend. She had really been looking forward to peace and quiet. "Another ball?"

"Yeah. It's the fun one, remember?" He raised his eyebrows. "Do you have a poor memory?"

She sighed. "I don't think I can handle another."

"Will this make it better?" He kissed her sweetly, again.

Once it was over, she cried "Stop doing that!"

"What?"

"Stop kissing me so well. It's too hard to resist."

He laughed happily. "Good. My evil plan is in affect." He rubbed his hands together and put on a mischievous face.

She narrowed her eyes. "Did you just…giggle?"

Marak raised his eyebrows. "No, never. We Goblin Kings laugh, chuckle, maybe even chortle…but never giggle."

Imogen smirked. "Not in touch enough with your sensitive side?"

He frowned, not wanting to sound too tough (He knew many earth women loved sensitive men). "Well, I wouldn't say that…"

She laughed. "Uh-huh. Sure you wouldn't."

Marak rolled his eyes. The carriage stopped behind the palace. "I didn't know there was a door here…" Imogen said, inspecting it.

"Yep. It's for my own personal use."

Marak stepped out, offering his hand to her as she stepped gingerly out. "In other words, just so you don't have to use the front."

"Yeah, that has a lot to do with it."

"So, this is a private dinner, huh?" He placed his hand on her back.

"I figured its better that way. We won't be alone for much of the evening, so I figure it's the best I can do."

Imogen nodded. "Good idea. The quiet before the storm."

Marak burst out laughing. "What?" She demanded.

"I just love the way you look at things." He rubbed the back of his neck, his smile fading. "I'm just so used to life being this way that…I guess I forget quite quickly how life can be normally."

She raised an eyebrow. "Honestly, I don't think you could really be 'normal.'"

"Well, normal for a goblin at least."

She shrugged. "You're probably right."

After a delicious candle-lit dinner and a quick change into a new pair of clothes, Imogen was led into the private chambers where she and Marak waited for their guests to arrive. Every now and then, Imogen would peek behind the large curtain to see who had arrived. After the first peak at the beautiful, large ballroom, she couldn't stop.

"Darling? Why don't you come sit down?" Marak was reclining in his chair, watching her with great confusion.

She stopped, leaving her hand on the crease of the curtain. "Why?"

"Well…it's just a ballroom."

"But, I've never really seen one before. I mean, in our world ballrooms are kind of a thing of the past. I like the idea of them." She ran her gloved hand up and down the curtain, the velvet beneath the silk on her fingers.

He smiled. "I think you were born in the wrong time dear. Now come and sit for a moment. You can look a bit later."

She did so, sitting down delicately. "So, who all is going to be at this party?"

"Oh, just some goblin barons and baronesses, some advisers and several of the elven tribes that we have remained in peace with."

"Elves? You didn't tell me there are elves!" She was completely ecstatic; never had she imagined that a world like this could be so real. She stood, excited.

Marak was not amused. "Imogen…" He began. "The elves here are much different from the ones in the stories you've heard."

"What do you mean?" Her heart sunk considerably.

"Sit down." He instructed. "It's a long story."

She sat down again, but less primly this time, more with a defeated manner. Marak took a breath and began. "Imogen…if you could point out one common belief that you, in however short a time, have seen us, goblins, believe firmly in…what would it be?"

She rubbed her chin. "Well…I'd say…fair treatment?"

He nodded. "That's part of it. As you know, we goblins aren't exactly 'lookers.'" She giggled at his word usage and the funny way he drew quotation marks in the air with his fingers.

He smiled for a moment and then continued. "Although this is a fact, we believe in looking at the heart, instead of the face."

"And the elves don't do that?"

"Well, some do. But most don't. You see, the elves are absolutely stunning. They love their good looks. They marry, live, breathe, sleep beauty and make it their top priority. Some females have even been forced into marriage because their husband wants their beauty, not them."

"That's awful!" She exclaimed.

"It really is." Marak sighed quietly. "But we've managed to remain in a shaky peace with them. For now at least."

There was a knock on the door. "Come in."

"My liege," A goblin servant entered the room, bowing curtly. "Your guests have arrived."

"Thank you, Percy. We'll be out in just a moment."

"As you wish my lord." The servant left, closing the door after him.

Marak stood up. "Well then. Ready?"

Imogen shrugged. "I guess."

"If I've said it once, I've said it a million times, Imogen: relax. Just have some fun tonight."

She stood. "Alright." She breathed in shakily.

He held out his arm and she took it. "Let's go." He smiled as they exited the room.

"And how do you feel about your new position?"

Imogen yawned, hiding it behind her hand. She had been making small talk with goblin women all night long. It was becoming seriously boring. "Well, I don't see it as a position really. I suppose I'm queen now, but I'm a wife first."

"Oh really…how…riveting…" The woman frowned, obviously disappointed in the answer.

Another woman spoke up, her bill clicking as she spoke. "I hear that the royal bedroom is absolutely stunning."

"Oh, it is." She smiled, realizing that she hadn't really inspected it much; she'd been far too sleepy the night before and rushed off in the morning.

Marak turned from his conversation, murmuring something and striding over to her. "Hello ladies, you don't mind if I borrow my wife do you?"

The women all smiled and one said. "No, of course not! Be our guest."

Imogen stood, taking Marak's hand. As soon as they were out of earshot, Imogen breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. That conversation was going nowhere."

He chuckled, though not his normal, mischievous laugh. "Ah yes, I know it." He sighed quietly, his smile fading into a mere trace of a grin. He led her onto the dance floor which was half-full with dancers. A small symphony was playing in the background.

"Is something bothering you?" She asked as he placed his hand around her waist and took her hand. They began to sway to the music.

"To be honest, yes. But…I'm not sure what."

Her heart fluttered. "Marak…do you think this is the beginning of the bumpy section?" She said, referring to the scar.

"Possibly. Don't worry though, we'll be fine. I promise." He smiled broadly.

They danced for a while, talking about many things. That is until Imogen mentioned elves again. Marak tightened a bit. "Darling, let's not talk about that now."

She frowned. "Why not?"

He sighed, rubbing his forehead "Because-"

I'm sorry to say Marak never finished his sentence. Before I say why, I must explain how the troubled goblin king had been feeling that entire evening. Marak, though a playful, childish sort of fellow, was always thinking ahead and ever since his wife had mentioned the elves, he had begun to think hard on that subject.

As he wondered, a disturbing thought came to him: What if the elves were planning something? What if, ever since Imogen came around, the goblins were blind to this? It was certainly true that many things had been amiss with the elves, before Imogen showed up. The elf king was due to end his reign soon because of some illness or other and two ambitious young elves were planning to take his place. Marak had been anxiously awaiting this event, but had heard no news.

Now, I can finally tell you what happened. A young elf woman appeared in the room with a puff of magic smoke. The doors flung open to show another young elf, this one male. Both were clad in black leather and looked like siblings with their fair faces and black, silky hair. The male was obviously a hunter, complete with a hawk on his shoulder, a bow and an arrow sheath over his shoulder. The female was seemingly more skilled at magic.

They both approached him, the male wary, his eyes darting around the room, while the female was respectful. When they reached him, they bowed low. "Greetings, King Marak of the goblins." The female spoke; she was obviously a better speaker than her brother.

"Well met." Marak said quietly, bowing back to them. The room was completely silent, leaving the guests to stare at the scene before them.

The female seemed as though she was struggling internally with something. After a moment, she spoke. "I bear bad news." She sighed.

Her brother gritted his teeth. "Lila…Don't." He warned. His voice was dark, rough but there was an underlying richness.

The female, Kara, shifted her weight. "Forgive me, for I must rid myself of all respectful notions. This conversation is strictly secret and I would prefer that it not be mentioned." She looked around the room cautiously. "To anyone."

Marak nodded. "Ladies and gentleman, dear friends, do excuse us. I regretfully must end this party. But thank you for coming." Imogen was shocked; Marak's smile was confident and relaxed, though she knew that inside he was unnerved.

The crowd began to leak out, their mouths agape. Marak pretended not to notice. "This way."

A/N: It's starting to pick up! In the next chapter, some real plot thickening comes in. So, let me know what you think. Say "The Grimmierie" in your review if you've read my author notes. I just bought that book (Wicked: The Grimmierie; for those of you who don't know.) It makes me want to see that musical so very badly. I've never seen it and I'm already in love with it and the music. Well, thanks for reading and reviewing!