Chapter Nine: Hidden Truths

Sarah woke feeling warm, and for the first time in too long, oddly safe. She couldn't remember dreaming about anything the night before, even without the potion. She wondered, for an idle moment, if she'd dreamed everything. As she stared at the ceiling, she jolted, realizing she wasn't in the room of broken dreams. That put her immediately on guard. Her hand shot to her face and she breathed a bit better. She'd gone to sleep with the mask on, she realized, and straightened it, checking to make sure it hadn't loosened.

After reassuring herself of the protection the mask afforded, she looked around the space, her trembling hands clinging to the blanket. The heavy, brass key was sitting on the table beside her bed, and she lifted it, turning in her hands.

There was nothing wrong with the room, even if it was made of heavy stone coated in a dusting of gold glitter. The bed wasn't overly large, like the one in the room in the Shadow Kingdom. In fact, it was only slightly larger than a full sized bed from her own realm. The frame was dark wood, darker than she'd have picked for herself, in truth. The covers, however, were bright and warm, which she'd appreciated the evening before. The small space had sparse furnishings, but there was a wardrobe that she'd found fully stocked with working dresses - long-sleeve linen under dresses with sleeveless over dresses that had deep pockets in the front.

There was a dresser of underthings, a small side-table by the bed. The majority of the floor was covered by a thick carpet, and tapestries hung on the walls. Two, large windows flanked the modest fireplace, both dressed with light, airy curtains. In front of the fireplace was a small, low table and a chair.

She'd eaten there the night before.

The only time someone had knocked at her door, last night, there was a tray of food sitting on the ground outside and a book with it. It had taxed her courage to answer it at all. Still, when she saw the food, she cracked the door just enough to drag the tray in, before closing and locking the door. That was when she discovered why he'd given her that key.

When she locked the door, it vanished, leaving only a faint impression in the stone. No one could get into her room unless she allowed it. Maybe that was the real reason behind that feeling of safety.

The food had been light. Berries and cream, sweet bread, and more of the tea she'd been given by the Goblin King. After she'd eaten, she'd gone into the small adjoining bath and found a steaming tub waiting, lightly scented with a soft, sweet smell she couldn't identify. The smell helped her relax enough to actually strip down and bathe before she pulled on a chemise and curled up in the bed.

Foolish, really, to feel safe in this castle, but she did. Perhaps it was knowing that she was screaming distance from Fenris, and that gave her the sense of security. Maybe it was because Jareth hadn't touched her without permission more than once, and that was when he held her hands and dragged her out of the panic attack she'd had yesterday.

She wasn't stable, not by any sense of the word, and she knew it. But the work he'd offered would give her a challenge to focus on, rather than what she'd been doing up to this point. That amounted to her trying to bury all the trauma she'd experienced and pretend it didn't happen. To be frank, that hadn't been working. Knowing now that she was the only one who could hear those crashing sounds proved that much.

She didn't know what else to do about it. She had to pretend to be functional, to bury what had happened, and put her focus elsewhere. She had to try to forget it.

So, she rose from the bed, finding and fussing the clothes she'd been given on. None of the clothing was complicated and she was glad for that. She found that they were warm, however, and the socks and boots she'd found were, too. She brushed her hair, and then found a scarf, tying the mass of dark strands back and up to keep it out of her way. She looked at her masked face in the mirror when sounds from outside caught her attention.

"What the devil -?"

The confused voice of the Goblin King reached her and she turned towards where the door should be. Every nerve in her body stood on end and she grabbed the heavy key with trembling hands. Rushing towards the door, she shoved the key at the vague impression of a keyhole and threw the door open, looking up at him in fear.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you would be here."

He just lifted his hand to silence her while he stared at her door for a long moment. There was no temper on his face, just a bemused sort of curiosity. Then, he looked towards her.

Instinct made her hands reach up and verify, again, that her mask was there. Reassured by the feel of it, she lowered her hands and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her. He was silent as she joined him in the hall, just watching and considering her.

"Did you bring your key?"

"Yes," she said, and held it up.

"Lock your door, then." His voice was calm, but there was something she couldn't identify in his expression and it gave her a spike of anxiety. She took the key and locked the door behind her. This time, the door didn't disappear. Before she could consider why, Jareth spoke again, his voice pensive. "Curiouser and curiouser."

"What is?" She blinked looking towards him. He had that strange, somewhat sinister smile on his face, again.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Goblinskin. Come along. I'd like us to make it to the healer's work room before she ends up too busy handling whatever nonsense my goblins have managed this time." He turned on his heel and headed down the corridor. As he moved, the lights ahead of them sprung to life, illuminating the hall in front of them with a pale blue light. She scurried after him, wondering if that was another thing the Labyrinth did for the people who lived here.

"The lights -"

"Hmm?" He looked towards her, and then returned his gaze ahead of them. Whatever he was thinking, he was keeping close enough to his chest that she had no idea what it was. "They do that. I forget that sometimes, the Labyrinth can be disorienting for people who aren't accustomed to it's quirks."

She took that at face value, since in her experience he'd never lied to her, and followed him down the hall. She paused for a moment as they passed the entrance to the escher room, then hurried on, keeping her eyes averted. They stopped in front of a large wooden door, which he opened and then stepped into a massive workroom.

There were several small beds along one wall of the room, a few goblins already groaning in them. In the middle of the room was a large table with a potion bubbling away on it. Several shelves held books and potions. There was a small desk scattered with parchment and ink. Leaning over the table in the middle of the room was a woman with generous curves and long, auburn hair twisted into a thick braid. She could see from the strands that had escaped, it was curly.

Sarah felt surprised for a moment, realizing that this was the healer. For some reason, she'd been expecting a man.

"What have these idiots done to end up in here, this time?" Jareth asked, stepping away from her and moving towards the goblins on the beds.

The woman looked up, amusement bright in her eyes. "They all indulged in a drinking competition last night, as ever. They'll be fine with some rest and some time pain powders."

Then, the woman seemed to recognize that they weren't alone in the room and her eyes turned towards her. She was pretty, Sarah noted. Her eyes were shaped like almonds and colored like emeralds. Her nose had a graceful slope, and beneath that, full lips, and her jaw had a gentle curve. Those lips curved into a smile and she moved around the table towards her.

"You must be Goblinskin. Jareth mentioned you'd be working with me from now on. It's a pleasure to meet you." She extended her hand towards her, and Sarah looked from it to Jareth. He just gave her a bit of a nod, and she stepped forward, shaking her hand.

"Y-yes," she acknowledged. "He mentioned that you needed an assistant. I hope I suffice."

"I'm Olivia," she said, and then glanced towards Jareth. He was still standing not far from his goblins, watching them closely. "I'll get her settled in here, Jareth. Thank you for getting her here."

A dismissal if Sarah had ever heard one. She blinked, surprised, because not only had Olivia called him by his name, rather than his title or an honorific, Jareth didn't seem upset about it. She glanced towards the king and saw him with his arms crossed and a bemused smile on his face. That smile looked less sinister than the one she'd seen in the hallway.

"I'll expect a report on all injuries treated from any ill-advised misadventures, Olivia. By the end of the day. Goblinskin can deliver it." And with that, he turned towards the door and headed out, closing it behind him. Sarah watched him go, her hands shaking. Once she was certain that he was gone, she turned towards the woman standing in front of her.

"You're looking better." Olivia waited for a beat, and then a brilliant smile curved her lips. "I was the one who treated your injuries when you first arrived in the Goblin City. Before we get started on the day's work, I'll feel better if I can make sure that your physical state has improved."

Sarah curled in on herself, swallowing hard. Olivia took her hand and led her to a vacant bed and with no choice, she sat on the edge of it, curling her hands into the sheets that covered it. The woman didn't touch her, just set her hands over her shoulders. A soft blue light formed at her palms and she felt a warm tingle through her. It was difficult to describe, because she'd felt nothing like it. It wasn't unlike the goosebumps that rose when listening to music. Then, the glow died and the woman lowered her hands, nodding. She turned away for a moment, checking the goblin on the next bed while Sarah got her nerves under control.

"You saw me without my mask." She must have, if she treated her before she woke.

"I did," Olivia said, very matter of fact about it. "Which is why his majesty is still fighting me over what the healing from that day involved. However, I find that is something between a healer and her patient. The only thing that was his business was that I healed you, and that your injuries were handled. He doesn't need to know the extent of them."

"Were you able to see...everything?" That question choked her, her hands quaking harder.

The woman stopped, went quiet for a long moment, her eyes distant. Then, she turned and looked at Sarah. "Every physical injury, yes. I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable. If it makes you feel better, I ensured that his actions would not result in lasting consequences for you."

Her hands shook and she curled in on herself for a moment. Her stomach turned at the mere idea of what she meant and after a long moment, Sarah furiously nodded her head. "Thank you."

There was silence from the other woman and Sarah lifted her eyes to look at her, again. Her gaze was turned away, looking at something Sarah couldn't see. Then, she turned a smile towards her, once again.

"You're welcome. Now, Goblinskin. Let's get you trained up to help me out handling a collection of toddlers with drinking privileges."

. . .oOo.

Upon returning to his office, Jareth found four people waiting for him and he paused at the entrance, looking at them all with a lifted brow. Fenris turned and bowed at the waist, an apologetic look on his face. "Well, well. I wasn't expecting so much company so early in the day."

Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus looked at him, and he could see hostility on the face of the dwarf. His lips curved into a mocking smile as he moved into the room and towards his desk. He sat in the chair, shuffling his correspondence for a moment, before finally giving them his attention.

"Your majesty," Fenris said, and his tone was cautious as he spoke. "The refugee is no longer in the room of broken dreams."

"I'm aware. I collected her yesterday." Jareth flipped through the stack of letters, sorting them and enjoying riling Hoggle up for the moment. After a moment, he paused, glancing up at them. "All of you are aware of my rules regarding refugees. Goblinskin cannot be allowed to continue living here if she doesn't work. As I recall, Hogspit, you were a refugee a millenia ago. You know how this works."

Hoggle sputtered, his hands curving into fists and he stepped towards the desk. Sir Didymus set a hand on his shoulder, stalling his forward movement.

"You're right, of course, your majesty," the fox goblin said. He kept his tone and demeanor respectful, while the beast beside him just made a mournful groan. "We are just concerned that she isn't well. We're worried."

"Fwend…" Ludo moaned, sounding distressed.

Fenris was still looking at him, his expression telling Jareth that his friend might be reading him too well, again. "If it pleases your majesty, might we know where the girl is working?"

"I've set her up assisting the healer. Is that sufficient?" He looked up at them, frowning, his eyes narrowing at all of them. "If that's all, I have a great deal of work and you all are halting progress."

Fenris and Didymus bowed before the group headed towards the door. He sighed after he heard the door shut, slapping his work aside and leaning back in his chair, a frown pulling at his lips. Too late, he realized that one of them hadn't quite left, yet. Fenris was standing by the door and watching him. He narrowed his eyes at his friend, lips twisting a bit, and he wasn't certain if it was a grimace or a smile he wore.

"Jareth," Fenris said, moving towards him. His voice was quiet and mellow. "They mean no insult."

"I'm aware. They are worried about her. I should have taken that into consideration, yesterday. I'd have though you'd have known about it already, since I spoke to Olivia about it last evening."

"She doesn't tell me everything." Fenris moved towards him, bracing his hands against the desk and considering him. "I admit, I can't recall you taking so much interest in a refugee, before. I noticed that, yesterday. You've been keeping an eye on her when the others aren't there."

"Observant as ever," Jareth said, lifting a brow and eyeing his friend.

"I did train as a spy to serve you, Jareth. I'm quite good at it, remember?" His friend was smiling, and there was a hint of smugness to it.

Jareth scoffed, leaning back in his chair and after a moment, a sigh was wrung out of him. "She can't be properly protected out there. She trusted me enough to come to the castle, but I suspect that she might actually have some quirks that none of us were aware of."

A frown pulled at his friend's face. "What do you mean?"

Pushing a hand through his hair, he leaned back, looking at the window on the side of the room. "The Labyrinth changes around her."

Fenris straightened, his eyes wide as he considered what that meant. Jareth let him turn that over, as he'd been doing since the previous day and watched as the other man set to pacing.

"Yesterday, when I was escorting her to the castle, the doors that lead into the city closed. This morning, when I went to take her to Olivia's workroom, her entire bedroom door was gone. When we were walking, faerie lights lit the way for us. I can't be sure if it's her or if the Labyrinth is doing it for her," he admitted, heaving a sigh. "Did anything like this happen in the Shadow Kingdom?"

Fenris stopped pacing, thinking hard for a long moment. When he spoke, his tone was pensive. "Somehow, she escaped her room there, right before we left. I know I closed the door behind me and when that door was closed, it disappeared. Still, she managed to get out of the room before Marcas caught her."

"Shit." He scrubbed his hands over his face, shaking his head before leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. "That explains her concern about me taking her door. And why she was resistant to staying in the castle."

"If she's been accidentally making things like this happen, she's going to have to learn to get a hold of herself before something terrible happens," Fenris said, pushing his own hair from his face, and rubbing the back of his neck. "And it means we have to get her out of here before Marcas figures out that she actually does have powers."

Right now, that was the least of his concerns. A much larger one was that he was going to have to be the one to train her to use this power before it got any stronger. "If this happened in the Shadow Kingdom, she's not just influencing the Labyrinth. If she's not made aware of this, she could accidentally pull the world apart. She's going to have to be taught to control the magic, and that's more important than her simply learning to control her emotions."

Fenris's jaw tightened and he looked away for a moment. "You know the signs of battle trauma, your majesty."

"I do, and I'm aware that she's not had a chance to cope with whatever was done to her." Not that anyone would tell him what the hell that was. "That's why I sent her to work with Olivia, rather than having her sort my correspondence. She admitted that she's afraid of me to my face. I don't like that, to be blunt. But regardless of her feelings or my own, no one in this kingdom can teach her how to control that magic better than me. I'll do my best to not push her, Fenris. She's acclimated to the Labyrinth itself. I suppose it'll take her time to acclimate to the castle as well."

To acclimate to him was what he meant. That chafed as well. He was the king, she was a ward of the kingdom. The girl hadn't shown a whit of fear, all that time ago. What the hell had changed?

Still, the allowance caused his friend to relax and nod. "Your history -"

"Don't be ridiculous, Fenris," he said, stopping the other man, because he didn't want to think of that, further. "I have no history with Goblinskin, correct? She's just a refugee that only just came to the castle, and I'll treat her as such."

The elf lifted a brow, considering him for a long moment. "Yes, sir," he said with some amusement in his tone. "I was foolish to have worried."

"No, you weren't." The admission was difficult and he lifted his eyes to his friend. "But as you mentioned, I've been watching her and I know the signs of battle trauma. It takes time for something like that to heal."

Whether he liked that or not. The woman gave him too damn much to worry about. He flopped back in his chair, half-scowling, not liking these thoughts. It would have been easier to leave her in the Shadow Kingdom, if it was going to be like dropping a hornets nest into his own. But her powers made that an equally terrible idea.

Fenris lifted a brow at him, and Jareth knew that he was trying to read him. It should probably bother him that his two friends could read him, but he was closer to them than anyone he'd ever met. After a moment, Fenris dragged a chair over and sat in it, kicking a foot up onto the edge of the desk and tilted his head, just waiting.

"Currently, we have a refugee who defeated the Labyrinth, who Marcas is no doubt looking for. Who happens to actually have powers over reality when she's in the Underground. Who Marcas did something to break before you got her out of there. She's fragile and frightened and I can't even send her home because the bastard will just find her again and drag her back here. At least if she's here, she's under my supervision."

Fenris gave him a crooked grin, and shrugged.

"With all the other insanity in my life, already, why did he have to find her?" Jareth mused, grinding his teeth so hard his jaw ached. It didn't help that he felt oddly protective of the girl, more than he had for his other refugees. Was that because she'd been a runner? Because he'd known her before she'd been broken?

"I can understand your frustration about us not telling you what happened. But it's not our story to tell. Yes, the bastard hurt her and she's wounded as deep as I was when I was when I arrived. As wounded as Olivia was. You never pushed us for our stories, so give her time and she'll tell you, herself."

Again, he hadn't known them before they came to him as a refugee. Even though he'd said that his personal history with the girl wouldn't interfere, he was also aware that history was why he had such a keen interest.

"She defied him, you know. That first night she was there. He wanted to drag her to a dinner party. She was scared out of her wits, because she'd been dragged here, and she still fought back." Fenris looked at him, his expression too serious. "He responded by taking the two ladies maids who were supposed to prepare her for 'showing', beheading them, and serving them for dinner. He left her alone in the room with them for almost two full days as a 'lesson' regarding how he saw people who had no use."

That explained some of the fear, but not the panic attack. Something uncomfortable twisted in his stomach, and he shook his head. "That's standard operation for Marcas. He's never seen a problem with murder if it got him what he wanted."

"He wasn't giving her adequate food until he demanded I keep watch on her. At that point, I was able to get her more food, but she didn't eat it regardless."

"I served her tea yesterday. She was certain the food would trap her, here, so that doesn't come as a surprise." He didn't mention the peach, which would be further reason she wouldn't trust food offered by him. Dammit. "I assured her anything she ate here would be safe - as long as it came from one of my subjects."

"As unfortunate as it is, you're right. Sending her home before Marcas is handled is useless." Fenris leaned back in the chair, heaving a sigh. "Poor kid probably doesn't even realize she has any powers at all. She kept telling him that, you know. That she didn't have any powers. He never believed her."

Jareth heaved a sigh from his nose and looked out one of the office windows, thinking for a long moment. To handle Marcas, he'd have to get the bastard here, physically. Especially if the other courts continued to want to sit this shit out. Stripping him of his powers would be the fastest option. Probably the most socially acceptable, too. Killing him would be best, and would take care of a long-standing, toxic problem in the Underground. A quiet snarl escaped him and he bit his thumb, thinking hard.

"I'm working on a plan for that. I've been preoccupied with ensuring the girl's safety, of late. Perhaps now that she's actually at the castle, I can focus on the rest of this utter disaster." He looked towards his friend, frowning. "Do you have any ideas? You were there and understand what might be a good lure."

"Marcas always likes a good party." Fenris gave him a grin that was a bit on the crooked side. "And you've been single for quite some time, haven't you? A party like that might be just the right lure to get Marcas here so you could deal with him."

"An engagement party?" Jareth straightened in his seat, lifting a brow. "And who, exactly, would I be marrying?"

"Someone from the Shadow Kingdom, of course. I can make a list of candidates for a fake bride. Once who would make Marcas think he'd have an in to get his hands on your throne, since that's his primary, long-term goal."

Jareth snarled in distaste. "I'd think the whole of the Underground knew that I'd rather die than spend a minute with anyone from that kingdom - never mind anything more intimate." Still, he considered it, tapping his cheekbone with a fingertip. It had merit. And it would force the other courts to be here when he enacted justice, so they couldn't claim ignorance. A sinister smile curved his lips and he straightened in his seat.

"I'll get you that list, this evening," Fenris said, huffing out a laugh.

The idea had promise. At very least, it was worth a shot. The more complicated matter was keeping their little refugee out of the line of fire.

Fenris standing drew Jareth's attention and their eyes met over the desk as a more serious thought came to his mind. He choked on the question in his throat for a long moment, and noted his friend waiting, like he knew that he was going to ask something.

"You said she's at least as broken as you were when you arrived. Do you think she'll heal?"

Fenris paused and Jareth saw something in his eyes. Grief. Then, he looked away, a sad smile curving his lips. "As much as any of us can, Jareth. But it'll take time."

. . .oOo.

Working with Olivia was hard work, but Sarah found it rewarding and enjoyable at the same time. In fact, she found that she far preferred it to what she'd been doing at home. It wasn't like nursing or emergency trauma care. Olivia was a healer in the magical sense and when she wasn't making potions to aid simple things, she handled the goblins for many different mischief-related issues.

Several came in because of mere overdrinking. Two had done swan dives into the chicken pens, resulting in them getting severely pecked. One had decided to attempt to outrun the cleaners - that didn't end well for him, even though he survived. Several came in because they'd been playing catch with the fireys. When asked why there were so many concussions, they admitted they were what was being thrown.

Sarah decided she'd have a talk with the fireys about that, later.

After a lunch of hearty sandwiches, during which Sarah got to know Olivia better, a woman who lived in the city came in. She was late in her pregnancy, and was getting false labor cramps. Her husband had paced the hall outside, all excitement and nerves until he'd been told that it wasn't time, yet.

After that, she'd been sent into the city with a list of herbs to pick up from the apothecary, and when she returned, she found six more goblins present. These had been involved in a game that involved them piling into a barrel and rolling it down the stairs. It had ended up in the escher room.

She learned how to make the sleeping potions she'd been using to keep from having the nightmares, as well as a basic healing potion for minor injuries, with Olivia explaining that the simpler potions she could start handling when they were both certain of the results.

By the end of the day, she was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to head straight back to her room and sleep, but Olivia reminded her that she was expected to take a report to the king.

Olivia had a funny sensibility when it came to talking about the Goblin King. Sometimes, she was all business, like she was very aware of her position versus that of the king. Other times, she called him by name and spoke of him with a frankness that would have alarmed Sarah if she hadn't seen how he'd smiled about it, earlier. So, when she'd referred to him by title rather than name, Sarah knew she was acting as the healer of the Goblin Kingdom, and meant business.

So, she accepted the sealed report from Olivia and left the room, heading through the castle walls, trying to ignore the dread in her stomach. Her feet didn't seem to want to move, but she forced herself to keep walking along the halls. Still, no matter what she did, she didn't seem to be able to find the king's office.

Exhausted, she berated herself for not paying closer attention, when he showed her to her room the night prior. Still walking, she bit her lower lip until her strength wavered and her knees started to give out. A hand caught her by her bicep, holding her upright and she jolted. An involuntary cry of fear escaped her and she looked up at whoever had that grip on her arm. There, she found Fenris who was looking at her with an expression of concern.

"I apologize," he said, his voice quiet and calm. "I didn't mean to startle you. I saw you listing and didn't want you to fall."

"Fenris," she breathed, relief knifing through her. A sigh escaped her and she looked at the report she clutched between her hands, still. "I was supposed to deliver this to the king, but I got lost and can't find his office. It's my fault. I should have paid better attention, yesterday."

"I can walk you there, if you'd like? I think you can be forgiven for getting turned around. You're clearly exhausted."

Sarah looked up at him, her nerves scraping inside of her. "You think he'd forgive me for being late?"

"The king respects hard work. Judging by the state of you, the healer had you running ragged today. In all honesty, it's a relief. She doesn't take care of herself when left to her own devices, and tries to handle everything herself." He turned them in the direction of the office, Fenris keeping close, but no longer touching her. As they turned a corner, Fenris gave pause, lifting a brow. He seemed to be turning something over in his head, before he glanced towards her and gave her a grin. "You're so tired, I'll take the report to Jareth. If he has an issue with that, I'll handle it."

Perplexed, she nodded, and handed him the envelope. "Thank you, Fenris. Please tell him I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Go get some rest." He gave her a rueful grin and tilted his head a bit.

She gave him another smile, feeling a bit worried that she wouldn't be able to find her room without help. Then, she remembered the day before, when Jareth had said that the Labyrinth liked her. She brushed her fingers against the wall and blinked in surprise as she got a clear impression of how to get to her room. A picture of her door, still closed. She wondered if that would have gotten her to the Goblin King's office, and decided to try that another time.

"Will you find your way alright?"

She paused, and then turned towards him, giving him a smile. "Yes. The king said the Labyrinth likes me."

Fenris nodded and gave her a brief salute before he headed down the hall in the opposite direction she walked in. She watched him go for a long moment before heading to her room. She, oddly enough, trusted the Labyrinth to make sure she got there, and sure enough, she found her door. She unlocked and opened it, but before she could close it, another familiar face appeared, holding a tray full of food, heading her way.

Hoggle.

She glanced around, and when he reached her door, she held it open for him and gestured him inside. Once it was closed and the tray set aside, she threw her arms around him in a tight hug. The dwarf patted her back, and when she drew back, looked at her closely.

"You had us worried. Weren't in your room, no sign where you'd gone."

"He found me yesterday," she admitted, hesitating, not certain what to say about that. "He gave me a job."

"Good," Hoggle said, holding her hands, his worry evident. "Worried he'd found out who you are. Seems your disguise is holding up well enough to fool him."

She gave a shaky nod, sighing. "Seems so."

"I'll let you get settled in, then. We were just worried, so I decided I'd find ya to get Ludo to stop howling." He patted her hands, his expression still worried. "Should you need us?"

"I'll call," she said, feeling a sharp ache in her chest as those words came back and slapped her. She closed her eyes tight for a moment, squeezing his hands. It meant a lot, already, that he'd come into the castle for her and make sure she was safe. When she'd gotten her brain untangled, she released his hands.

He gave her another worried look before he turned towards the door. She reached out, catching his shirt, pinching the edge between two fingers.

"Hoggle. Thank you." She was how cheeks turned red with embarrassment.

"'S nothing," he insisted after a moment. When she released him, he bustled out of the room. When he was gone, she sat down with the food at the small table in front of the unlit fireplace. She looked at it for a long moment, but before she could so much as dip her spoon in the stew, she fell asleep in the chair.

. . .oOo.

Jareth was right about her powers, Fenris noted as he reached the door to Jareth's office. Once she'd left, he'd been able to find it exactly where it should be. Somehow, Sarah was changing the Labyrinth around her. He doubted she realized that she'd been twisting the world to keep from seeing Jareth, but that's what happened. He considered the envelope for a long moment, wondering why she was delivering such a thing, anyways. Unless that was Jareth's way of checking on her.

He knocked at the king's door, then opened it, walking in. Jareth was leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling, a tired look on his face. There was a piece of paper in his hand, the king's grasp creasing it. Fenris moved inside until Jareth finally focused on him, then he gave a short bow, ignoring the stab of concern at the temper in his king's eyes.

"Your report from the healer," Fenris said, smirking at the man and setting the paper down on the desk in front of his king. There was a frown on the man's face. "Goblinskin, regretfully, was unable to make it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Weariness in his voice, as well, but still enough temper at the defiance that he noted it.

"It means I got a first hand account of your comment regarding the Labyrinth twisting itself around her. She was so tired by the time I saw her, she was stumbling and almost fell asleep walking. I tried to walk her here, but turns that should have taken us here took us elsewhere in the castle. I don't know if the Labyrinth was doing it out of respect for her fear for you, or if she was muddling her chances out of dread, but she seems to have thought that she was too tired and didn't pay attention, yesterday."

The king leaned back, a frown pulling at his lips. He looked at the report and picked it up, considering it for a long moment before setting it aside. "Whatever have I done that makes her so terrified of me?"

The musing surprised Fenris, and he straightened, the smirk falling from his lips. He considered the other man. He seemed petulant, almost. Like he was sulking. Again, his concern regarding the man's history with her scratched at him, again. "You might consider that she was under the neglect of Marcas and the Shadow Court for some time before I was able to get her out of there. Whether you like it or not, you are the same race as Marcas. I also didn't trust you when I first met you, either, and it took time for our friendship to develop." He hesitated. "And she thinks you're furious over your loss to her, that as soon as you realize her identity, you'll turn into the villain you pretended to be during her run."

"I never hurt her," he insisted. "I realize I play my role well, it's one that I've no choice but to play when someone wishes away a child. I've played it for years. But I never let any of my runners come to harm. I even tried to keep their run from biting them in the ass, later, by disguising it as a damn dream. To fear me so deeply that she twists the Labyrinth to avoid me is insulting -"

It was difficult, biting back what Marcas had done to her, but he managed. Instead, Fenris sat in the chair that was still sitting in front of Jareth's desk and looked at him for a long moment. "Have I ever told you how I ended up where you found me in the Cliffs of Despair?"

"No," Jareth said, a frown covering his face, that petulant tone still in his voice. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I was a slave in the Winter Court, to some minor noble. They weren't important enough to have the interest of anyone of power, but he so wanted power. You know that part. Do you know what he did to me that resulted in me slaughtering the entire family that lived in that house?"

That seemed to startle his king. The man straightened, considering him, his eyes narrowed.

He'd never told Jareth the whole of it. He didn't even think he'd ever told Olivia everything. But for Jareth to understand how badly someone could be hurt, it was time. He gave a bitter, rough sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a snort.

"I'd been serving them for decades. None of them were good people. My master, in particular, was a mean tempered bastard. Far more like Marcas than you could ever dream to be. He was selfish, self-serving, and power hungry. Perhaps that was why he never amounted to anything, there. I don't know. But he wanted to social climb. Married a woman who was wealthier than him, who was from a more powerful family. He was pushing his son to do the same. There was a young nobleman's daughter of marrying age. And he invited the family over for a party. The girl's father expressed interest in such an 'exotic' slave. So I was offered up for the evening's entertainment."

"Stop," Jareth commanded, holding a hand up, but Fenris didn't stop, the words falling from his lips.

"The nobleman savaged me - he beat and raped me the whole of the evening. It wasn't the first time I'd been used like that, you know. Just the worst, the most demeaning. When it was over, I couldn't even move. When my master found me like that, he started beating me for not pleasing the man. After all, if I'd done my job properly, his son would have ended up engaged to the other man's daughter." Fenris scoffed, a sneer curving his lips. "He tried to rape me, too. The pain had reached the point where something inside me snapped, and I don't know where the strength came from, but I grabbed him around the neck and beat his head against the floor until he stopped moving."

"His wife and son heard his screams and came running. The son grabbed me while the woman tried to subdue me. All I remember of killing them was the red haze that hung over my vision. The manor guards came after me, next, and I ripped them apart. I don't know if anyone other than me survived that day. When you found me, I'd been on the run for a long time. Bounty hunters from the Winter Court had come after me. They couldn't have a valuable slave like me running loose after killing a noble family. I'd had to kill all of them to survive. In all honesty, when you found me, I thought you were one, too. At that point, I was little more than a feral dog, and would have rather died than be dragged back to that hell."

"Fenris," Jareth said, his voice sounding strained. "What does this have to do with what happened to the girl?"

When he looked back at his king, focused on the present after being lost in memories, he found Jareth more pale than usual. Fenris leaned towards him, his elbows on his thighs, looking into his friend's face, his own serious.

"Jareth, that's the hell I went through before I got here. She's as fragile as I was when I first got here. So, Jareth, what do you think a bastard like Marcas would do to a girl like her?" He let that question hang in the air between them. There, the temper in his eyes but aimed elsewhere, and horror that was deeper. "I told you some of it. The psychological torture of trapping her in that room. What was done to the maids to teach her a lesson. You also know she was injured enough to require Olivia's services when we got here. So, like I did, she's going to need time before she's going to be able to set that fear aside and start to trust you."

Jareth didn't speak. Fenris wasn't certain he could, right then. The conversation had taken a heavy turn, but it was a story that Jareth needed to hear so he could comprehend the reality of what Sarah had experienced. So, rather than letting Jareth press Sarah for it, Fenris gave his own story. They sat in that uncomfortable, smothering silence for a while before Fenris got to his feet, gave the king another short bow, and headed out of the room.

He didn't pay attention to where or for how long he wandered. When he reached the room he shared with Olivia, he found his lover sitting on the edge of the bed, damp from her bath. A heavy sigh was wrung from him, and he walked towards her, dropping to her knees beside her, resting his cheek against her thigh.

The action surprised her, because he heard the quiet gasp. Then, her fingers started to comb through his hair, nails scraping gently on his scalp and he closed his eyes. It was always difficult, driving those memories away when they crept up, and like Olivia, his own past had reared its ugly head of late. As she continued brushing her fingers through his hair, he wrapped his arms around her legs, a sigh wrung from him.

"What's happened?"

The worry in her voice smoothed through the rough tangle of his own emotions. "Tonight I spoke of events that I've only ever spoken of with you, because our King needs to understand the damage a man like Marcas can do to someone."

Fingers found his chin, and she eased his face back up, her eyes holding his. "Do you need me to hold you, tonight?"

A ragged sound between a laugh and a sob escaped him. "So I don't wake up screaming from the dreams? Yes."

She shifted onto the bed, her arms opening to him as she lay back and he climbed up beside her, curled towards her. As her arms went around his head, his own went around her waist, his cheek pillowed against her breasts. Her fingers resumed combing through his hair as they lay there, and he bit his lower lip hard enough that it bled.

"I need you," he said, his voice quiet.

"As much as I need you," she answered, her warmth enveloping him. Laying like that, in a way so completely divorced from his past, he was able to relax again. The feel of her fingers, gentle in his hair, lulled him to sleep and as he drifted off, he heard her soft breaths, the beat of her heart by his ear.

. . .oOo.

Jareth sat for a long time, troubled by the story that Fenris had told and the implications behind it. He'd known Fenris had been pushed to the brink in the Winter Kingdom. It's why he'd allowed him asylum, rather than sending him back. He'd recognized that of Sarah, as well, but he'd missed the larger picture. He'd been too busy thinking that he'd never caused the girl harm, so she shouldn't fear him. Fenris had ripped that illusion from him by laying bare a secret Jareth had allowed him to keep. Fenris was there after whatever trauma had occurred, had seen her before she was taken from the Shadow Kingdom. Whatever he'd seen had caused his friend to share that story with him.

Those possibilities caused grief and anger and more complicated emotions that he could barely tolerate.

A sigh escaped him and he pressed his fists to his eyes, trying to relieve the pressure of the headache behind them. He'd been so fixed on the fact that Sarah was afraid and didn't trust him, he'd ignored the fact that until recently he'd never done anything to prove himself trustworthy. It stung that it had taken his friend shoving that truth into his face for him to understand it.

He was the same race as Marcas, from the same world, and she'd only ever known his cruelty. Worse, he was the same gender, and the implications of Fenris's story -

No, even Marcas couldn't be so callous, could he? No way to know for sure until she opened up enough to tell him.

Another sigh escaped him and he got to his feet, heading towards the door. As he went, he shoved the report from Olivia into his pocket, along with the list of names Fenris had made up for him, earlier that day. He'd peruse them further in his room, and hope that Olivia had gotten the point regarding his request for a report.

As he passed the space he'd given Sarah to sleep in, he found the door cracked and paused, his brow furrowing. Earlier, that door hadn't even been there. Now, it was here and standing just open enough that he could see the fireplace wasn't lit.

He should just continue on to his own room, but as he reached that conclusion, he heard the sound of whimpers from within. The quietest sound of fear, mixed with increasingly panicked sobs. The noise caused an unpleasant twist in his gut, something he'd noticed happening too often since he'd first seen her, again. A frown pulled at his lips and he decided to move on, walking past the door.

He didn't get far when a scream of sheer terror made him freeze. Before he realized he'd changed course, he had pushed the door open and was looking around for where she was. Behind him, he heard the sound of goblins in the hallway, filling the door behind him. He gestured them away, eyes still scanning the room.

She wasn't on the bed. She was curled up in a chair by the unlit fire, shivering from the chill and from fear. He moved towards the chair, leaving the door open behind him. He didn't want her to think he'd trapped her in here with him. She was still in the grips of the nightmare, even as the scream died, her breath sucked in, readying for a second. He'd promised he wouldn't touch her, and he remembered that as a hand reached out to pat her face to wake her.

He bit the inside of his cheek, steadying himself and after a moment he called her to attention the only way he could think of.

"Goblinskin, attend." His voice was crisp and uncompromising as he spoke, keeping his tone even. His eyes found tears that spilled beneath the mask as she slept. He hadn't realized she'd felt so unsafe that she even slept with the thing on. Another thing to think about.

Her eyes snapped open and this time, she gave a quieter sound of fear, her arms lifting as if to defend herself. He kept his distance from her, keeping his jaw firm, feeling the tension in himself. When her gaze finally met his, she gasped and dropped to her knees.

"Y-your majesty -"

Shock and fear, her entire body was trembling, her breaths as ragged as when she'd had the panic attack the day prior. He crouched down in front of her, keeping space between them. How the hell to address this situation without causing more problems?

"It seems my healer ran you off your feet, today. Fenris tells me you were staggering through the halls, lost," he said, and saw her cringe away from him as if she expected him to chastise her for failing to come to his study, herself. Rather than live up to that expectation, he changed the subject. "I was on my way to bed, and I heard you scream. Are you alright?"

She stilled, and after a moment, her face lifted and she looked at him, terror in her eyes. He watched her throat bob as she swallowed whatever she was feeling, and after a moment, she nodded. "I was having a nightmare. I'm sorry."

He offered her his hand and watched her fight the battle with herself before she accepted the help. He eased her to her feet and looked towards the food that was sitting, untouched. A sigh huffed out of him and he gestured towards the fireplace, conjuring a flame to the logs that sat waiting there.

She jumped and he felt it, her grasp still on his hand. Then, he led her towards the bed, releasing her hand as he turned down the covers for her. "Do you wish to speak of it?"

She was standing behind him, and he didn't turn towards her, hearing the way she still was struggling to breathe. "I -"

"I'm offering it, not ordering it," he said, turning towards her. Her entire form was trembling and he shifted away from her, standing by one of the windows and retrieving a cigarette, cracking the window as he lit it and looking out across the Labyrinth. "I'm aware that you're afraid of me and that I've done precious little to justify any trust you give me. It was rather forced into my face, this evening."

"It's not easy to talk about," she said, her voice quiet. There was a fearful tremble in it. "It's still really fresh."

He took a long drag on the cigarette, and gave a half turn towards her, a smile curving his lips. "I imagine it's not easy to listen to, either. And still I offer. If you can't talk about whatever the nightmare was, right now, that's fine. When you're ready, I'm certain you'll tell someone what happened."

Unease and surprise in her eyes, now. He turned back to look out the window, pausing and then tamping the cigarette out on the stone ledge around the window.

"You should rest, if you're able. You've an earlier morning, tomorrow, than you had today."

"I -" She stopped herself, biting her lower lip so hard he wondered if she bruised it. "I'm afraid if I go to sleep, now, I'll just dream about it, again."

"Do you want a potion to help you sleep?" He watched as she shook her head, and saw her hands twisting the linen sleeve of her underdress. "Even one that will keep you from dreaming?"

"I don't want to become reliant on those. I just...need some time to calm down?"

"A book, then?" He waved a hand, three fanning out when he lifted it, again. He set them on the table beside the tray of food. "While you're reading, you could have a bite to eat, since it looks like you didn't manage before you fell asleep."

She was quiet for a long moment, and he started heading towards the door, thinking that was that.

"Why are you being nice to me?"

The words made him freeze, his back to her. That was the question, wasn't it. He'd left a worse impression on the girl when he'd been her antagonist than he'd previously thought. Shaking his head, he shifted, to look back at her. Though he wore no physical mask, he was more accustomed to hiding what he was thinking than most, or he'd have ended up dead ages ago.

"Goblinskin, you're a refugee from one of the darkest lands in the Underground. I hardly think cruelty would be a benefit to your mental state or productivity. I may be the Goblin King, but I'm more than the antagonist from a faerie tale." He gave her a bit of a crooked grin. "Lock your door before you go to bed - you left it standing open, this evening."

She paled, and then nodded her head. "That's how you got in?"

"Strictly speaking, I can go wherever I damn well wish within the walls of the Labyrinth and the Goblin City," he said, not bothering to lie to her. "However, I don't typically violate the privacy of the people who work for me. This is your space, and you have the right to whatever company you wish in it."

"Oh," she said, and then nodded her head. After a long moment, she looked up at him again, nerves clear in her eyes. "Are you angry that I'm afraid of you?"

He considered how to answer that for a long moment and gave a quiet sigh. After a moment, he saw she'd come to stand in front of him, looking up at his face, like she was trying to read him. "I was, at first. Fenris pointed out that was idiotic."

Her eyes were the size of dish plates as she looked at him and he gave her another smile.

"I haven't done anything to earn your trust, yet. Offering basic security and courtesy are hardly stretching myself," he said, answering the startled expression. "How can I fault your distrust when I haven't earned any faith? You've every reason to doubt me and my kind. Especially since you were dragged, involuntarily, from your home for the amusement of the Shadow Court."

Her head lowered, her eyes shielded from view, and she nodded.

"I know this is hard to believe, but you're safe here." He kept his voice quiet. "Regardless of how you came to the Underground, I want you to understand that much. No one will harm you, here."

She nodded, again, and he suspected that she was crying. That knowledge left him uncomfortable, so he turned towards the door, heading out of the room.

"Thank you, your majesty," she said, a moment before he cleared the door. "For checking in on me when you heard me screaming."

"You're welcome," he answered, glancing back at her for just a moment before leaving her and pulling the door closed behind him. The goblins that were crowding the doorway looked up at him, chewing on their fists in worry. He sighed and gestured for them to go on their way. "Go, all of you. See if there's something tasty in the kitchens. She's not ready to play with you just yet."

Obediently, they trotted off to besiege his cook and he continued onward to his own room. Once his door was closed, he looked at the report that he'd shoved in his pocket and sighed, scrubbing a hand against his face. It irked him that Fenris was right about several things. Right to get her out of the Shadow Court, right to smack him with words about her right to fear him.

Part of why he had become friends with the elf was because he valued the other man's insight. He'd never suspected his friend was hiding a story like that. It made him wonder for the first time what other sorts of stories the refugees kept from him.

He'd never demanded them, unlike how he was demanding to know what had happened to Sarah. He knew part of his pissiness regarding it was because he'd known Sarah when she was a runner. Much like she didn't trust him because she knew him from when he'd taken her baby brother.

Speaking of which…

He rolled a crystal up to his fingertips and peered into the reflective surface. The goblins had been swapping out each week since he'd initially sent them to keep an eye on the girl and her family. Every day, Toby would arrive in that hospital room and would read his sister stories. He'd gotten better at it, Jareth noted. Over the last month, there was less hesitance in the words.

A sigh escaped him and he flicked the crystal away, stripping down and heading to the shower in his adjoining bath. Today had been too filled with heavy conversations and heavier thoughts. That girl gave him too many worries, he decided again and rubbed the back of his neck as hot water pelted his back. Taking a steadying breath, he closed his eyes and told himself he was just worried because the girl was so fragile.

He ignored the uncomfortable twist inside of him that had moved from somewhere near his stomach up a little higher, towards the vicinity of his chest.