Chapter Eight: Labyrinthian Refugee

Fenris woke to the sound of furious movement in his room and he jolted in fear. Even years since he'd been on the run, unexpected sounds still had that effect on him. It took a moment before he recognized the sounds. A mortar and pestle, crushing herbs. There was also the soft sound of a feminine voice counting, and the bubble of a potion.

Olivia had woken up at some point and was working at the small station he'd put in his room for her.

He lay there for a long moment before he caught the other sound he hadn't quite heard under the sounds of her working. Soft, hitching breaths. The occasional, quiet whimper. Sobs that she couldn't quite muffle.

If he hadn't heard that, he might have gone back to sleep. Instead, he rolled off the bed, wrapping the sheet around his shoulders to ward off the chill in the air. He found her standing at the small work table that was wedged against the small wall, almost too big to fit in the small room. He could see her shoulders were shaking with the force of the sobs she was trying to hide. A soft sigh escaped him and he walked towards her, wrapping his arms and the sheet around her bare shoulders.

She went still and stiff for a moment, and then he felt her relax before she turned so her face was pressed against his chest.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

The words were whispered against his skin and he threaded a hand through her thick auburn hair, holding her close. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against the crown of her head. "You should have woken me when you did. You didn't need to stay alone with your thoughts."

She nodded, and he felt her arms lift around him, holding on so hard that he felt his ribs ache. He could feel the moisture of her tears on his chest and for a long moment, he just stood there holding her in silence. Then, he turned the burner off, scooped her up, and carried her back to the bed, sitting down with her cuddled on his lap. She clung to him the whole way, her face pressed against his neck. He could hear the hitch in her breaths, still.

It took time, but eventually the storm inside of her had died down a little and she gave a quiet sigh. He stroked her back over the sheet, drawing back just enough to look at her face. Her eyes wouldn't quite meet his own.

"It was just a dream, again. The same sort I used to have, after I ran from the summer court. I hadn't had one in so long, it just -" she stopped herself, and seemed to struggle with words. "I guess something is triggering them, again."

He considered that for a long moment, still stroking his fingers over her hair. "Something meaning Sarah?"

She nodded, and he felt the sigh that escaped her. "You and I both know how hard it can be to come back from something like that. Not just the torture or emotional scarring. I'm worried that Jareth will push her too fast."

Fenris shifted so that he leaned back against the headboard, considering that for a moment. Olivia just curled against him and looked up at his face, waiting in silence.

"I can understand that worry. But I think Jareth is a lot better at understanding how much he can push a person before he needs to stop. He's better at reading people than most. The first day, he said he'd drag her to the castle in a week. It's been a month, now and he hasn't done that."

"But will he understand why he shouldn't push her? And will their history blind him?"

That was the real question, wasn't it. Jareth had been willing to cut her loose, to get him out of the Shadow Kingdom. Still, since they'd arrived, he seemed intrigued by the girl. Fenris couldn't remember much of his own first weeks in the Labyrinth, and he wasn't here for Olivia's. He hadn't seen Jareth with such a vested interest in any refugee before. It could be impossible to tell with the Goblin King.

He didn't exactly volunteer information unless he saw some benefit to himself.

Fenris took Olivia's hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing the inside of her wrist. He still hadn't figured out how to answer those questions, yet, so he gave the only answer he had.

"Love, we can't know how either will react until they actually meet again. So all we can do is hope for the best and plan for the worst."

. . .oOo.

When Sarah left her room that morning, she almost turned around and went back in, immediately.

It felt almost as if the Labyrinth was holding its breath in anticipation. Like it was waiting for something. That scared her, because she didn't know what it might be waiting for.

Lately, her dreams had gotten worse. Yesterday, Sir Didymus had brought her a potion that was familiar. Fenris had given her two doses of it when she had first left the Shadow Court. It had given her a peaceful, dreamless sleep, then. In her exhaustion, the potion had resulted in her sleeping longer than normal, last night, and she'd woken to find the sun well up into the sky.

She felt rested, and that was wonderful, but the way the ground seemed to almost vibrate in excitement confused and frightened her. It made her want to avoid people, so she made a split second decision, walking at a brisk pace to a place she'd avoided so far. The oubliette. She knew how to get there without dealing with the helping hands, now, because of how she'd left it before.

So when she reached the courtyard, she went down the circular hold and into the dark of the tunnels. The dark was comfortable, right then, and let her feel hidden. The sense of anticipation felt muted compared to how it felt on the surface.

She hesitated for a moment before leaving the room, keeping an ear out for the sound of slashing blades. The cleaners were the only thing she was worried about, down here. That could change, and she knew it. She just hoped that she didn't end up hearing the crashing noises, again.

Her feet led her unerringly, deeper into the tunnels until she could hear the words of the false alarms, though they sounded like they were just telling bawdy jokes amongst themselves. She felt a smile curve her lips, heading that way, but she stopped when a crystal rolled from behind her towards the direction she was walking. It startled a scream out of her, and she clasped her hands over her mouth, jumping back a step.

The crystal seemed to pause in the middle of the poorly lit corridor, as if it waited for her to follow it. Every cell in her body seemed to be screaming for her to run in the other direction, but she couldn't help but step towards it. As she did, it rolled further away from her. She swallowed hard, feeling herself trembling in fear.

Every time she stopped moving, it would go still, waiting until she continued to move again. Her whole body was quaking in terror, but she couldn't look away from that perfect sphere of crystal. When she saw it head towards the form leaning against the wall, she froze, looking at him for a long time. Her hands went towards her mask, because for a moment, she'd forgotten it was there. She stood with her back against the wall and watched as the figure leaned down to pick up the crystal.

Spellbound as she'd been years ago, she watched as he slid it up over his hand until it came to rest on his fingers. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him any better than she'd ever been able to. His hair was still wild around his head, and she noticed with a start he was only a bit taller than she was, now.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

His voice was just as she remembered it, and she wondered for a moment how she could have thought that night was just a dream. A shiver worked its way up her spine and she tried to back further into the shadows as much as she could. She could feel herself hunching in, trying to hide. Her fear had caused that hunch she walked with, now, but recently it had eased. Her voice caught in her throat and she clutched the front of the grubby cream cotton blouse she wore - clothing that Hoggle and Didymus had found for her since what she'd worn from the shadow kingdom was in tatters.

"Well? Are you a mute?" He asked, and his head inclined as he looked towards her. She noticed that his eyes were blue. Why had she forgotten that?

"N-no," she stuttered. She wasn't certain how she got that answer out. The word seemed to stick in her throat. It would have been easier to pretend that she was a mute, she supposed, but she wasn't certain how long she could fake that.

He moved in the dim tunnel towards her, his skin illuminated as if to spite the darkness around them. A strange twist in her chest startled her. It was somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. His hair was wild, his eyes piercing. Back then, she had known he wasn't human. However, she was older, now and noticed things she hadn't when she was younger. Her eyes drank in his appearance, the dark leather coat that hugged his trim physique down to the tops of the matching boots. They strayed, for a moment, towards his hips and something she'd noticed at fifteen caught her gaze again. Fear and fascination caught hold of her, followed swiftly by nausea as she remembered what happened in the Shadow Court.

She turned away from him, trembling harder.

"Fenris told me he'd brought a refugee in from the Shadow Kingdom." The words caused a chill to crawl up her back and she wondered if that was why everyone knew who she was. Had Fenris been forced to tell who she was? "He was supposed to bring you to the castle the day you arrived. Introductions are only proper, after all. If you're here for asylum, having you live in the squalor of the trash heaps hardly reflects well upon me."

She saw him pace around her and she turned away again, not wanting him to take the mask from her. It hit her suddenly, that she wasn't afraid of anything more than the idea of seeing pity on his face. Tears welled in her eyes and she clutched the collar of her shirt at her neck. "I don't want to be in the way or a burden. I-I'm fine living in the Labyrinth."

There was a moment of silence and she wondered if she'd dreamed everything, right then. The sound of a boot on the dirt drew her attention back to him and she turned her head to find him standing much closer to her. Fear knifed through her and she stumbled back, raising her arms to defend herself as she fell onto the dirt. She turned her face away from him, one hand holding the mask in place, the other trying to shield herself from his gaze.

She couldn't see his expression clearly in the dark, but something about the way he was looking at her troubled her. After a moment, he crouched down in front of her and she cringed back.

"What should I call you?"

She blinked and her hands lowered, confusion filling her as she looked up at him. "You...don't know?"

"Everyone has been being very mysterious about everything involving you. Not even the healer who saw to your injuries will tell me the full extent of them. Very rude of them, to not give their king such basic information. It's almost a pity that they're invaluable to the kingdom. So it falls on you to tell me what I should call you."

Fenris hadn't told him, she realized, and she straightened a bit, looking at the king that was looking at her in the dark. His pupils reflected the faint light just a bit, she noted and she bit her lower lip hard.

"If I tell you my name, it'll give you power over me." The words were choked out, still strangling her from fear.

"Girl, I already have power over you. You're here under my protection, whether you like that or not. Now, tell me what to call you." His voice sounded short, as if annoyed.

She paused, a frown pulling at her lip. She realized after a moment that he hadn't demanded her name. Not really. Just what he should call her. Her hands trembled as she looked at the reflective pupils, still holding the neck of the shirt she wore in a death grip.

"Goblinskin," she said, after a long moment. "You can call me Goblinskin."

"There," he said, and she saw a smirk curve his thin lips. The lighting made his face seem more sinister for the smirk on it. "The ground didn't swallow you up and you haven't fallen over dead from meeting me and giving that much. You'll join me at the castle, now. The Goblin City doesn't have use for those who don't put hard work into it, refugee or not. So we will discuss what talents you may have and see what sort of work would suit you."

"You won't -" she stopped herself, hands slapping over her mouth and a shiver of fear wracked her body.

He was half-way to his feet and he turned towards her, his blond hair backlit into a halo around his head. "I won't what?"

It was hard to get the words out. But she could remember what the others had said about him, about how he was as a king and a person when he wasn't the antagonist. "You won't hurt me? You won't touch me?"

Surprise on his face, then lightning flashed in those eyes for a moment. She couldn't be certain if he was angry or insulted by the implication that he'd cause her harm.

"Goblinskin," he said, and his voice was firm. "The Goblin City is separate from the courts, which is why I end up with refugees. It's a neutral place from the machinations of the other ruling powers. Fenris came to me as a refugee from the Winter Court. Does he look as though I've caused him harm? I see little point in harming those who serve me."

She felt tears well in her eyes as she remembered her first night in the Shadow Court and how the following morning, Marcas had brought her the heads of his own servants. She remembered every punishment for her defiance, even the time she hadn't been intending to defy him. A sob caught in her chest and she lowered her face so the Goblin King couldn't see hers. Even the time she'd been accused of attempting to escape, even though she hadn't been, because Fenris had promised to help her leave. She could feel his hands, where they'd stopped prior to breaking her ribs, and she almost slipped into a flashback before the smooth voice of the Goblin King broke through her thoughts.

"I can tell that you've been through a lot, girl. I'll not insult you by telling you that you don't need to be afraid of me. However, bravery isn't a lack of fear, but rather, it's action in spite of it. All I ask is that you have courage." His tone was gentle, she noted, as he said those words.

Blinking back her tears, she lifted her face to look at him. His head was inclined as if he were considering her and as she looked at him, he offered her a hand to pull herself to her feet. He didn't grab her or reach for her. She swallowed, hard, staring at the extended hand for a long moment. Her own shook like a leaf as she lifted it, setting it on his and used the stability he offered to pull herself to her feet.

Once she was upright, the sound around her changed and she lifted her eyes to look at him, wondering why. She found them standing, now, at the entrance to the Goblin City.

She gave a startled yelp, almost stumbling back, again, but the hand that still held hers kept her on her feet. Her free hand slapped over her mouth, as if it was to keep the sound in.

She'd forgotten he could do that.

She clung to that hand for a moment, until she was certain that she wasn't going to fall on her backside again. When she withdrew her hand, he didn't try to keep it. She appreciated that. He regarded her for a long moment as if trying to read her, then he turned towards the massive doors that led into the city. As he did, the brickwork closed, removing the doorway that would have let them through.

She blinked, startled by that as well, and she looked towards him in confusion. "Why did that happen?"

He didn't answer her for a long moment, just regarding the wall before them before he turned towards her. There was something not unlike amusement in his expression. In the bright daylight, she found herself reminded that he was a painfully beautiful man. "It would seem that someone is wanting for us to take a longer route to the castle."

She felt her brow furrow beneath the mouth and she inclined her head in confusion. "Who?"

"The Labyrinth, of course," he said, and cast a glance around them before he turned, starting to walk along the wall. "It has a mind of its own, and no one who it doesn't like or trust will make it to the center of the Labyrinth without invitation."

She considered him for a moment, pausing before she started after him. "I didn't notice that since I've been here. It hasn't been changing while I've been wandering it."

He glanced towards her, a hint of a smirk curving his lips. "It wouldn't change to befuddle someone who isn't either a runner or means to harm the kingdom. It's quite good at reading people. Also, it seems to like you."

She watched as he changed his direction, his steps leading him away from her, along the outer wall of the city. She stared up at the wall that had sprung up in front of them and took a step towards her. She lifted her hand, resting her fingertips against it, considering what he'd said.

Not just a magical maze that changed constantly. A mind of its own implied that it was sentient. Alive. And he said it liked her.

A smile curved her lips, and then she remembered that she was supposed to be following the Goblin King and turned. She found him standing not far away, watching her with a bemused smile on his face. She dropped her hand, embarrassed for a moment that he'd seen her like that, and then moved to follow him.

"What do you mean by it likes me?"

"It didn't let you wander astray, didn't change its walls or paths behind your back to trap you. The ground didn't open up beneath you as you wandered, or drop you into an oubliette. It protected you, though you weren't aware of it." His words were matter of fact. "I suspect it's been waiting for you to notice it since your arrival."

"It didn't speak to me, so how could I realize -" She stopped herself, thinking hard for a moment. "That's why it changed, right now, isn't it? So you'd tell me?"

"You're a quick study," he said and she thought she heard approval in his voice.

Something about that made her chest ache, twisting hard, and she lowered her head. After a moment, she stepped closer to the wall, again, trailing her fingers along the stone. A small smile curved her lips. It felt strange, foreign, to be smiling and she shook herself after a moment, thinking that she knew better than to trust the king. He was fae, that meant he was like -

Nausea overwhelmed her and she set a hand over her stomach, her steps faltering. She felt the fear she'd been living with since her arrival in the Underground start to overwhelm her. Then, just as the nausea started to subside, a loud crash sounded behind her and she whirled to look and see if she could find where it was coming from, now.

"No," she whispered, backing away from the sound. "Please, no." She took another step back, waiting for the next crash.

"Goblinskin?"

His voice saying the name she'd chosen for herself startled her and she whirled back towards him. His eyes were sharp on her and she felt herself trembling. She wondered if she could shake apart. She shook her head, taking a step back from him, before another crash sounded behind her. She screamed, covering her ears and dropped where she stood, curling in on herself.

Her fear was choking her, strangling her with every second. Tears filled her eyes and started pouring down her face, even though the last thing she wanted was to cry in front of him. She didn't want his pity. She didn't. She didn't want him to know the broken girl before him was the one who had beaten him so few years ago. As the next crash happened, she yelped, unable to contain the sound, and she clasped her hands over her ears, sobbing.

"Please, no…"

. . .oOo.

Jareth heard the whimpered plea and turned to find that she wasn't facing towards him. He could see that her body was shaking harder than before.

Sweet mercy, what had happened to her, he wondered, and stepped towards her. It took effort to not use the name he had known her by. Still, he managed to use the name she'd given him, today. "Goblinskin?"

She turned towards him and her pupils were like dinner plates, dilated, her eyes as wide as they'd open. He could see fears falling from under her mask. Then, she gave a scream and dropped to the ground, curling in on herself. Her hands were clamped over her ears as if she were trying to keep a sound from reaching them. However, besides her ragged breaths and quiet shrieks, there wasn't a sound he could hear.

After a moment, he stepped towards her and dropped down so he was at her level. He examined her face, twisted in fear and pain under the mask she wore, and set his hands over her own. Slowly, he pulled her hands from over her ears, holding them in his hands until her face slowly lifted and looked at him. Even when she'd realized he was real and had taken her brother, she hadn't looked so frightened. He didn't ask what was wrong, because whatever it was he didn't think he could fix it.

As he watched, she shook her head, over and over, as if she was trying to deny something. Her breaths were coming too fast for her to possibly get enough air or calm down. Her eyes were fixed on his face and he met her gaze, looking into her eyes. Some instinct had him stroke the backs of her hands with his thumbs.

"Close your eyes and listen to me. You're having a panic attack."

After a long moment, her eyes fell closed and she continued sucking in breaths as if she was starving for air. If it continued, she'd pass out, and that would put a quick end to whatever talk they might have. He didn't release her hands, and noted that hers were clinging to them. He stared at them for a moment, surprised. Then, he shook off the feeling, speaking to her with quiet calm, ignoring his own disquiet.

"You need to listen to me. Take a deep breath in. Slowly, Goblinskin. Slowly. Until you can't get any more air in." He watched as she did, keeping his attention focused on her. "Hold it. Hold it. And now, you're going to let it out. Slow and easy."

Her eyes opened as she exhaled, looking at her and there was still fear in her eyes. Fear and confusion that was deeper than he'd seen before. Again, he wondered what the hell had happened to her.

"Good girl. Do it again. Deep breath in, nice and slow."

As she did, he kept coaching her until her breaths steadied and her eyes focused. She still kept taking those slow breaths as she looked around them, still shaking, but not hyperventilating, now. Then, her eyes found his hands and hers holding tight onto his.

Her own shock was greater than his, and her hands sprang open before she drew them to her chest, curling them into fists.

"Are you back from wherever you were?" He noticed she was even less willing to look at him now than she'd been before her fit. He got back to his feet, shaking himself for a moment, his hand flexing a bit. It felt oddly chilled now that hers wasn't clinging to it. He pushed that thought from his mind, turning to lean against the wall outside the city. Drawing a cigarette case from the inner pocket of his coat, he set it between his lips and lit it. As he took a long drag from it to settle his own nerves, the scent of cloves filled the air.

He was careful to not look at her as she gathered herself. When she finally got to her feet, he turned his gaze back towards her. She was looking at him, her expression wary, nervous.

"You couldn't hear it. Could you."

Her voice cracked a bit as she spoke, and he noticed it sounded thin from the fear in it. Tilting his head back, he blew a plume of smoke into the air and considered the question for a long moment. "I don't know what you heard that frightened you so. And no, whatever it was, I didn't hear it."

The girl scoffed, but it wasn't aimed at his answer. The sound was bitter and humourless and he didn't like it. He lifted the cigarette, again, considering her as she straightened and turned her eyes towards him. There was grief and pain, there, those green eyes pinning him. They were dark and murky from the emotions boiling in them.

"So, I'm just imagining it, then. It's not real, it's just in my damn -" She stopped herself, her hands pressing back into her dark hair and curling so hard that he knew her scalp must be screaming in pain. As he blew more sweetly scented smoke in the air, he gave her a smile that he knew was on the edge of patronizing.

"It's in your head, perhaps. But since when does that mean something isn't real?" Her incredulous expression almost made him laugh. It reminded him of when she faced off against him and he smirked at her, lifting the cigarette again and breathing deeply. "Plenty of things exist in our heads, as opposed to in the physical realm. Just because you can hear it and I can't doesn't mean that it isn't a real thing you're experiencing. It just means that I can't experience it."

She paused, her surprise evident and she took a moment to consider what he'd said. Then, her eyes narrowed at him. "Are you mocking me?"

He held his cigarette between two fingers, flicking the ash to the ground and grinned, considering her. "Goblinskin," he finally said and saw her jerk at the name, as if she'd forgotten that she'd given it to him. "You're standing in a realm that most people would consider to be 'just in your head'. Does that mean the things you've experienced here haven't been real? Does it mean that those who reside here, myself included, aren't real?

That knocked her further off stride and she lowered her face so he couldn't see her eyes any longer. She seemed to be standing straighter, now, the hunch from before smoothing out. She didn't answer him for a long moment and when she did, it was quiet. "What if this is all just a dream? How are dreams real?"

He laughed again, and felt a rumble from the ground. He set a hand against the wall behind him and used it to balance as he straightened, moving towards her. He stopped right in front of her, lifting a brow. "Dreams are the experience of a single person, that most times others cannot experience alongside them. Humans often consider this place a realm of dreams. And I do promise you, me and mine are quite real. As is every other creature in the Underground. Writing things like this off as a dream, and as such not real, is a human response to things they cannot explain. I feel no such urge. Now, if you've collected yourself and are ready to move along, we really should go to the castle."

When he turned to continue along, she stepped towards him and to his surprise, started walking beside him. Poor manners, he thought at first, but considering how terrified she had been only a few minutes he decided to overlook it. It wasn't as if he had a kingdom of the best behaved creatures, as it was. His healer and master of the guard often referred to him by first name without any honorific at all. The goblins had no decorum whatsoever. If he was honest, he preferred it that way.

Could he really demand politeness and propriety from her when the example his kingdom set was borderline anarchy? So, instead, he just continued forward, noting that the Labyrinth was either toying with him or trying to protect her. He didn't like to make demands of it. The reason the two of them had such an easy relationship was because he didn't try to force his will upon it. Still, after heading towards the next door and finding another wall, a quiet growl escaped him.

"Is something wrong?" She sounded like her fear was getting the better of her, again, and he took a moment to get control of his temper. After that, he glanced over at her, finding her clutching the collar of her shirt, again.

"There is usually a door here, as well. My Labyrinth appears to have either moved it or removed it." He felt the growl in his voice and saw surprised confusion on the girl's face. "I think it's playing with me. Here."

He extended his hand towards her and watched her as she stared at it as if it would grow teeth and bite her. Then, her hand came to rest upon his, again. He could feel how hard she was trembling from the light hold he placed on it. Her eyes met his and when they did, he transported them then. As disorienting as it could be, if the Labyrinth was playing with him, this way was safer. He moved them directly into his formal office and once he was certain they'd both arrived in one piece, he released her hand and snapped his fingers.

A tall, rotund goblin appeared immediately, her wild curls hanging half way down her back. She looked around, and when she saw Sarah, she almost rushed the girl. He reached down and caught her shirt, lifting her up with one arm, turning her until she faced him.

"Gurdy, see to it that a tea tray is brought here, and make certain that there will be a room available for our guest to rest in."

"I would feel more comfortable sleeping in the room I've been using -"

He expected the objection. He set the goblin down and watched her rush out the door before giving his attention to the girl standing near him. He could see the faint hint of defiance in those eyes and it gave him an unexpected rush of something. Either pleasure or excitement, he wasn't certain which.

"Goblinskin," he began, pacing towards her, knowing his voice sounded a bit too tart to be patient. "Is there a shower in that room? A toilet, perhaps? A wash basin or sink?"

He saw a flush light up her cheeks and she quickly lowered her eyes. That was certainly answer enough. When he was sure she wasn't going to answer him, he continued.

"Even if you spend every night sleeping in the room in the trash heaps, you will have a room available to you here to use to freshen up, with clean clothing and a place to sleep that is inside of the castle."

She lifted her face after a few moments, looking at him. Her defiance was gone, and in its place was confusion. He noted that her hands still trembled, had been since he'd first seen her. He knew well enough the signs of someone who had been in a battle. What the hell had happened to her during the brief time she was in the Shadow Courts that would result in this? Or was it before that?

After a long moment, she nodded her head and he saw her curl in on herself from her fear, once again. He felt another strange, unexpected sensation - one of disappointment - that he pushed aside. He gestured for her to have a seat in one of the high backed chairs on the less formal side of his office and waited until she complied. Once she was seated, he took the chair across from her, leaning back in it, considering the girl who sat there, features hidden behind a gruesome mask.

And he found himself hoping that she wasn't too shattered to heal from whatever the fuck Marcas had done to her.

. . .oOo.

Sarah waited for the litany of questions she was certain was coming from the monarch. Where she came from, who she was, why she was here. So when it never came, she felt nothing but confused and afraid. When she finally found the courage to lift her eyes again, she found Jareth looking towards the window, rather than at her. He seemed perfectly at ease, simply waiting for her to start talking, and for them to sit in silence until then. The quiet was welcome, even if unexpected, and she bit her lower lip, letting it settle over her.

Knowing the sounds were just in her head explained why Marcas had accused her of running away. If she was the only one who could hear them, then how could anyone understand her terror?

And yet, Jareth had seemed to. He had at least recognized it, hadn't diminished it for it being in her head. She hadn't expected that from him. She could still feel the warm leather around her hands as he'd coached her through the panic attack.

When the goblin Jareth had called Gurdy burst back into the room, the sound startled a cry out of her and she pressed back into the chair. Instinct had her gripping the collar of the blouse she wore. The goblin looked distressed by her fear and stopped immediately, her large eyes looking watery and sad.

Fingers snapped and drew the goblin's attention and Sarah looked slowly towards the other creature in the room. He was leaning so his elbows were on his thighs, putting him closer to the level of the anxious goblin. His eyes were fixed on it when he spoke. "On the table is fine, Gurdy. It isn't you Goblinskin fears."

The goblin looked back at her for a long moment and Sarah realized it was looking to her for reassurance. Finally, she nodded her head. "The door opening startled me."

Gurdy relaxed and bustled over, setting the tea service on the table between her and the Goblin King, and she paused for a moment, turning towards her. Sarah blinked as Gurdy beamed up at her as if she were someone special as opposed to a broken shell of a person. Then, the goblin gave what amounted to a cursey and then bolted towards the door again, giggling.

Once the door was closed again, the soft clatter of china drew her attention and she saw Jareht pouring tea for her. She found herself staring at his hands as he did. His fingers, she noted, were long and graceful, but still covered by the soft leather gloves. Still, considering what skin she could see, she could imagine what they looked like. Pale and soft, the blue of his veins visible under the transparent skin. No freckles or spots maring them. The hands of an aristocrat. She was spellbound, watching as he added sugar and cream to his own cup.

"You remember what I said about people working for the good of the kingdom?" His words were quiet and they still startled her because she hadn't expected him to speak.

She lifted her eyes to his face as he set a cup of tea towards her, the plate having a cookie with a disc of chocolate slightly melted into it. She felt her stomach churn in discomfort, staring at the tea, wondering if he'd be offended if she refused it. She pulled it closer, taking a moment to dress her own tea.

"Y-yes," she managed, staring into the tea as she cream mixed into the sweet smelling tea. There was a quiet sigh from the man across from her, and she cringed.

"The food is safe," he said, his voice sounding patient. "Anything given to you in this place will be. You need only be cautious if it's offered by someone from outside of my kingdom."

Those words gave her pause and she lifted her eyes to look at him, startled that he realized exactly what her concerns were. "What?"

His eyes lifted to her and she saw amusement clear on his face. "Did you think I couldn't tell you are mortal? You dress up well enough as a goblin, but you don't smell the part. I'm also partial to fairy stories from the Above and have read Perault."

She blanched, shaking her head to deny what he was saying. He knew she was lying. He would punish her. He'd -

"You can relax, Goblinskin. I'm not telling you to reveal yourself. However, pretending that you're a goblin in truth is useless. Perhaps you haven't noticed, but even when they're clean, they have a particular odour." He relaxed back into his chair, sipping his tea and smiling at her over the cup. Again, she noticed the smile gave his face a sinister look. "Besides, the Shadow Kingdom and its king have little use for goblins. However, Marcas is known for sneaking above and kidnapping a mortal or generally stirring up trouble. The goblins are already aware that you're a mortal, and while Fenris and Olivia refuse to give me details, I'm no fool."

"I didn't mean to offend -" The words spilled from her as soon as he stopped talking, until he lifted a hand and met her gaze, his eyes pinning hers.

"Girl, if I were offended, you'd know it. This wasn't the reason I brought you here. I need to know what skills you have that can benefit the kingdom." His tone was all business, now, serious, the smirk he'd been wearing gone.

Those words knocked the wind out of her and she curled in on herself, chafing her hands over her arms. How to explain that she didn't have special skills, that she was useless? Could she explain in a way that he would understand?

"I have no skills," she finally said, and a sigh escaped her. "None that you can't already find in your kingdom."

"I find I sincerely doubt that," he scoffed, leaning back. Another sigh escaped him, gusted from his nose and his eyes narrowed as if considering her honesty. "Put the false modesty aside. Tell me what things you've trained to do in your life."

She started to shake her head, again, thinking he didn't understand. Then, she paused, thinking that maybe she was the one who hadn't understood. She bit her lower lip, hunching in on herself as she thought. "I know how to cook and tell stories. I have a passably neat hand and I know shorthand for notation. I know basic science and math, but nothing fancy. I can -"

Drive. Her breaths caught, and she felt a tremor wrack her body, and she thought she'd start to panic again, but she caught his gaze and took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm.

A smile curved his lips again and she thought she saw pleasure on his face. "While the kitchen staff can always use extra help, I know someone who is in greater need of an assistant than the cook, and the job requirements would be similar. The healer has been mentioning that she could use an extra set of hands."

She blinked, feeling surprise and interest.

"When she's developing new potions, she needs someone to notate measurements, act as a runner for materials she needs, and make certain she eats." The amusement on his face deepened as he lifted his tea and took a long sip. "Healers tend to hyperfixate on what they're doing, often to the detriment of their own bodies. That's especially true with a difficult healing."

"I think I can do that much," she said, uncertain. It did sound like a job she could do, but - "Would I have to stay in the castle?"

"While you're working, yes, unless your work takes you from it to grab materials. When you aren't working, you're free to use your time however you wish, go wherever you like. At night, you'd be free to return to your room outside of the city. However, you might wish to make use of the room available here, once you learn of your hours."

She inclined her head, feeling her brow furrow again in thought. She definitely did not want to stay in the castle. Not under any circumstances. The look on his face told her knew exactly what she was thinking. Still, he seemed equally certain that her mind would change.

"Olivia typically rises before the sun, and tends to work late into the evening. Your hours would be the same as hers, which would mean you would have to get up very early in order to make it to the work room on time."

She swallowed hard, considering that for a long moment. She lifted her tea with shaking hands, taking a sip, and then took a small bite of the cookie to give herself time to consider the offer. The silence hung between them for a long moment, and she swallowed hard. The cookie seemed to stick in her throat like the words she was trying to say. How could she explain the terror of being in a castle room, when he didn't know what had happened to her?

"The door...won't disappear?" She lifted her face to him, then lowered them again when she saw the intensity of his gaze on her. She shrunk in on herself a little, trying to steady and calm herself. She could remember the panic, that first night, of finding there was no way to escape her prison. How the door only appeared when someone was coming into her room. She took a deep breath before looking at him, again. "To keep me from running...my door would disappear."

It was the only explanation she could offer, right then.

He was silent for a long moment and he turned to look away from her, his gaze turned towards the window. He leaned on the arm of the chair, his chin resting on his palm, deep in thought for a long moment, before he spoke. His tone had a hint of self-deprecating humor in it.

"These are the faerie lands. Sometimes, things do not behave as expected, here. However, I can promise that I will not remove your door." He looked at her, and reached out across the table, his hand curving over the wooden surface. When he lifted his hand, there was a heavy brass key resting there. "I'll show you how that key works when I take you to get settled into your room. Do you have any additional concerns you wish to address?"

The elephant in the room, and he just ripped the cover right off of it. She felt a shiver work its way through her and she swallowed hard. She mad a million concerns. Her fear of being here, in the same room as him, felt like it was choking her. The feel of the stones around her felt like they were pressing down on her, crushing the air from her lungs. He was a man, or at least like one, and one like him had hurt her in ways she still didn't want to think about too closely.

"Yes," she finally admitted, looking at him and curling her hands into fists, pressing them against her thighs. "But they're not ones I want to talk about."

His brow lifted and he got to his feet, again, nodding his head in acceptance. "As you wish. From this moment, you're a ward of the Goblin Kingdom. Which means your well being is my responsibility. Come along, Goblinskin. Let's get you settled in to get cleaned up and have some rest before meal time?"

Her nerves were scraping at her as she got to her feet, and she looked at him for a long moment. "What about where I'll be working?"

"That can wait. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning, and escort you to the work room." He had a wry smile on his face, as if he was keeping something close to his chest, that he wouldn't tell her. She remembered what he told her in the tunnels, about bravery, and not asking her to not be afraid, and she curled her hands into fists, trying to control the tremble in them.

"I'm afraid of you," she admitted, biting her lower lip.

His lips twisted further and he tilted his head back and laughed. It was an unexpected sound and her eyes widened. For a moment, she felt a stab of fear in her heart. Then, he looked at her and she found no malice in his gaze. He reached down and picked the key from the table, handing it towards her, waiting until she took it.

"Very brave of you to admit that," he said after a moment, and she saw amusement sparkling in his eyes. "I can't say that isn't a wise thing, considering my kind's nature. However, I take my duties and responsibilities very seriously. So when I say your well being is my responsibility, that means that I will do my best to ensure that no harm comes to you while you're under my care."

He moved past her without another word, his eyes still bright with amusement and she followed him before she realized that she'd moved to. That frightened her, too. But right now, she was seeing the part of him that she'd heard others talk about. The Jareth that Fenris and the Fireys had spoken of. And for the first time since the accident, she found she didn't feel quite as much fear strangling her. So she followed him when he left the room to guide her to where she was going to be staying while she was here. Until she could gather her courage and admit to him who she was. Until she could find it in her to ask to go home.

. . .oOo.

Olivia was helping heal an incident that involved two goblins and some everlasting sticky glue when a knock sounded at her workroom door and she looked up, finding Jareth standing there. She lifted a brow as the sovereign walked in and then she turned her attention back to her work. He looked relaxed, she noted, as he leaned against the wall and watched her separate the goblins and send them on their way.

The pair gave a shrill giggle as they ran out of the room, tripping over one another as they passed their king on their way to go get into more mischief.

Jareth pushed off the wall, moving towards her and she noted that he looked quite pleased with himself. She straightened, toweling her hands off and arching a brow at him. "You look like the cat that caught the canary."

"Do I?" He asked, moving further into her working space. She felt cautious as she watched him, with good reason. The king would never hurt his subjects, but she was aware that he was moving like a predator. She didn't have an explanation for the odd tension she saw in him, and until she did, she knew well enough to be wary. "A guest has come to the castle, today. Tomorrow she'll be joining you here for work."

Her brows jumped up and she straightened, hearing the message under the words. "The -"

"She has requested to be called 'Goblinskin'," he said, his voice cutting her short. She understood the interruption. If they had a way to refer to her that didn't speak of who she was or what she'd done, it would be safer for the girl. So she didn't try to singe her king's eyebrows off. He turned his back to her, leaning his hips against her worktable, his arms crossed on his chest. "I realize that you will not break a confidence, especially not a medical one. So I will not ask again what state she was in when you first saw her. I decided that a month was enough time for her to acclimate to the new environment. If that turns out to be too soon, we'll know soon enough.

"What do you mean that she'll be joining me for work?"

He turned towards her and she found a smug grin curving his lips. "Refugee or not, she'll work for her keep here. You need an assistant, at least someone who can ensure that you're taking care of yourself when you're working. I know that you get distracted and fail to do so, much to the ire of your lover. Consider this me juggling two crystals on one hand. She'll be kept close enough that she can actually be protected and you'll have someone besides Fenris and myself ensuring that you take meal breaks."

She felt a curious itch at the corner of her eyes, even as a laugh escaped her throat. Leave it to him to figure out a way to handle them both at once. Manipulative little bastard. The thought wasn't malicious, and it touched her that the regent worried enough to insist on something like this.

"And what am I supposed to have her do besides letting her feed me?" She asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against a shelf lined with bottles of potions, tinctures, and jars of herbs.

"You can use her as a runner for ingredients, taking notation, and if you're working on a new potion, you can have her write down the results of your experiments. Just don't treat her like a guinea pig. I don't want to have to come in and find that she's been turned into a sea slug or worm." He looked amused by that and she gave him an unrepentant grin.

"That was one time, and the goblin had a great time freaking out the others he changed between invertebrates."

He gave her a look of intense amusement, then she saw the expression change. The smile slid off as it became more serious and she felt her concern for her friend push to the surface. She moved towards him, setting a hand on his arm, not looking away from his face.

"Fenris was right, Olivia. She's fragile. Her backbone is still there, but I fear it's been broken. She had a panic attack, before I brought her to the castle, and she's having auditory hallucinations. I don't know what Marcas did to her while she was in the Shadow Court, but she's not the girl I remember her being just a few short years ago. So, take care of her, Olivia." His voice was quiet as he spoke and she saw something she'd never seen before in the man's eyes. He was grieving who the girl had been, before she'd been dragged back here.

There were some things a man like Jareth wouldn't be able to comprehend, because he was a good man who had never experienced the trauma that she and Fenris had. So she just slipped her arms around his, hugging his arm and set her cheek on his shoulder. She didn't tell him what she'd discovered while healing the girl. That wasn't hers to tell. But she could answer the request he made.

"I will, Jareth. I promise."