Chapter Ten: Work Arrangements
Sarah noticed over the next several weeks following that conversation that Jareth hadn't approached her. The goblins, on the other hand, were visiting her almost daily. It was almost like they'd worked out a rotation to come into the healer's workroom so that they wouldn't overload them. A brief conversation with them shortly after she'd started about how hard the healer worked to make sure they could do their mischief had assured that. At least once a week, Ludo, Hoggle, and Didymus would come up and have lunch in the workroom with her.
The longer she was here, the more she felt herself relaxing. It was odd to her. Her mind kept telling herself how foolish that was, but she couldn't help it. The presence of her friends and the kind nature of Olivia had that effect on her. It helped, also, that Jareth hadn't insisted on her enduring his presence. That made her feel more brave, as long as she wasn't left to her own thoughts.
Some days, Olivia told her that she didn't need the assistance, and so she'd head down to the gardens and spend the day weeding them with Hoggle. That also helped keep her occupied, so she wouldn't start thinking too much about what had happened to her. When she was distracted by her friends and her duties, she didn't think as much.
Then, one day, she was told Olivia didn't need her help and the garden beds were already well weeded. She'd wandered, trying to think of what she could do, and eventually she found herself at the door to Jareth's office. She stood in front of it for a long moment, looking at it. She wondered for a long moment if she was brave enough for what she was considering. Then, she lifted a trembling hand and knocked on the door.
It swung open a moment later, and she found the King sitting at his desk surrounded by piles of paperwork. There was a crease from concentration in his brow. She stared at him from the doorway, digging deep for some courage before she stepped into the room.
"Just one moment," he said, and she noted that he sounded slightly terse. His hand flew across the page, the quill in his hand scratching the parchment, and she wondered for a moment if she'd come at a bad time. As she watched, he folded the page with precise movements, then carefully heated a wax stub, pressing it on the closed page, then he pressed a metal stamp into it to seal the letter closed. He held a hand over it and the wax glowed for a moment, before he held the letter out to his side and it was snatched by a goblin that had appeared without a sound. The creature gave her a broad grin, then bolted out the window. Only once the correspondence was on its way did the King look up. His brows lifted immediately as if he were surprised to find her there. "Goblinskin, is something amiss?"
Words choked her for a moment as she tried to find the answer to that. "N-no. It's nothing -"
He lifted his hand, requesting silence from her, and then he stood. He gestured to one of the chairs across from his desk and waited until she sat before he returned to his chair. He didn't say a word, just waited patiently while she struggled with her fraying nerves. He didn't push her to talk, but his focus on her unnerved her.
"I-I was just wondering if there was any work I could do, today. Olivia said she didn't need my help and usually I'd help in the gardens in that case, but Hoggle said he didn't need help, either." She bit her lower lip, hard, her brow furrowing. It was hard to speak, her throat kept trying to close. "I don't want to be idle. When I'm idle, I start thinking too much, and then I start to panic."
He considered her for a long moment, his long finger tapping his cheekbone, his eyes narrowing on her. There was no malice in his expression, however. After a long moment, he leaned back in his chair, glancing away from her. "I'd have thought you'd want some downtime. Everyone in the castle knows how hard you've been working since you arrived. That's probably why Hoggle and Olivia didn't have you work, today."
"Please," she asked, her voice quiet. "I'll do anything." Anything that didn't leave her alone with her thoughts and memories.
"Would you be amenable to working for me today, then?" He looked towards her, lifting a brow. "I assure you, I have plenty of work, myself. It's not physically taxing, but it is plentiful. I'd considered suggesting you assist me when you first arrived, but it's clear that you're terrified of me, and to be honest, I didn't wish to cause you further trauma."
The matter of fact way he said it made shame surge through her. She lowered her face, biting her lower lip. "It's not personal. I promise."
"Indeed," he said, not disagreeing with her and she swallowed hard, lifting her eyes to look at him. Something about the way he was looking at her made her stomach twist. Understanding and acceptance. It was like he expected her to refuse to work with him. That made her bristle a little, but not enough to get snappish. She lowered her eyes back to her shaking hands, staring at them and she bit her lower lip, making a difficult decision.
"Fenris said that he told you I was hurt, but he didn't tell you how I'd been hurt," she said, her voice quiet and her words halting as she forced them out.
He paused, considering her for a long moment. Then, he nodded his head in agreement. "He told me you were fragile, that you'd been harmed badly enough to require the healer. He used an experience of his own to illustrate things that can cause that, rather than breaking a confidence with you."
She bit her lower lip harder, curling her hands into fists, trying to think about what she could say about it without making the beautiful day turn dark for her. She didn't want to go through another panic attack. They were still frequent enough that she relished every moment she didn't have one.
"You don't have to tell me. I'm aware that whatever happened was bad." His voice had turned gentle and when she looked at him, she found he was looking away from her, a complicated sort of look on his face. "I know what sort of man Marcas is. While I haven't seen first hand what he's done, I've heard enough rumors about the sorts of things that go on in the Shadow Kingdom. In particular to those who are powerless to fight back."
Powerless. That wasn't a bad way of describing how she'd felt while she was there.
"It's not just what happened there," she admitted, the words coming out slow and stilted. "It started before I left home. You remember the panic attack I had after I met you in the tunnels?"
He nodded, his expression serious as he looked towards her, again.
"I didn't notice before you said you couldn't hear the sounds. I was in an accident, the day I got dragged into the Underground. Behind me, then back left, then right, then this crunching sound. I don't think I could have explained why the noises scared me so badly until after I realized they were just in my head…" She curled her hands into her skirt, biting her lower lip hard to keep herself focused. "It's from the accident. I was driving, and a car rear ended me, then two more hit mine, and then I hit a light pole, I think. I looked up after, and there was this dark figure staring at me. He was the only one not trying to help. I know now that it was...him. Then, I wasn't in my body, anymore. I don't know how else to explain it. I was still aware, still me, but I could see my body still sitting in the car and that...person was right in front of me. He pushed me and I fell and blacked out. When I woke up, I was in the Shadow Kingdom."
His eyes were fixed on her face when she lifted her gaze and looked at him. There was an intensity in that expression that made her uncomfortable and she averted her gaze from him. "There's more, obvious, since I ended up here. But -"
"Thank you for sharing that much," he said, his voice still quiet. There was a strange tightness in his voice, when he spoke that sounded strange. After a moment, he got to his feet. "Come along. We can work by the other table. Correspondence needs sorted and filed. I've a few missives I need to write and a settlement regarding a damaged chicken - don't ask."
She bit back the urge to do so, lifting her brow as she stood and moved towards the chair by the low table on the less formal side of his office. "A chicken."
He looked towards her and she felt a curious tickle in the back of her throat that she hadn't felt in what felt like years. It felt like a laugh.
"Goblins take their chickens very seriously, Goblinskin. There's always something involving a chicken."
. . .oOo.
Olivia had taken note within a few weeks of working with Goblinskin that the girl was a diligent worker. She was never late, worked as hard as Olivia did, and never issued a complaint regarding tasks. Her hand was tidy, and she definitely had a knack for shorthand. Even though she admitted that some of the terms she was given were ones she was unfamiliar with at first, she picked things up quickly.
Underneath all that fear, of which there was plenty, she had discovered that the girl had a sense of humor and a strong sense of justice and morality. One day, in particular, she'd come back with one of the fireys after a break and made him apologize to Olivia for making more work for her. It had surprised her, and after the firey was gone, she'd laughed that she hadn't seen them act so repentant before.
Goblinskin simply stated they'd have to be told that what they were doing was wrong or they'd keep on doing it. She didn't seem to realize that their willingness to comply had nothing to do with being told and everything to do with her being the one to tell them. No, the girl didn't understand that in the slightest. She also didn't seem to notice that after the first day, Jareth hadn't requested that the girl bring any more of the reports. He still checked on her, but he never did so while the girl was there. Olivia couldn't quite place why the king's interest amused her, but it did. Even now, weeks later, he didn't approach her, directly.
She suspected that had to do with Fenris's conversation with him. One that had left her beloved trembling and afraid, that had dredged up memories that resulted in nightmares for days. She and Fenris were used to the nightmares. They'd both endured more than their fair share.
Still, it was good to see that the king wasn't beyond reason and understanding. Perhaps she'd been wrong regarding how their history would affect him. It was quite interesting to her, the amount of concern he continued to show for the girl.
"Goblinskin, please pass me the tincture of valerian?" She extended her hand, expecting the vial to be placed in it a moment later. Instead, her hand hung empty in the space for a long moment. She blinked, lifting her gaze from the potion she was working on. She found the girl staring at a spot on the wall, not moving, not seeming to mentally be there, at all. She considered the girl for a long moment, circling around the table towards her, keeping her movements slow.
She recognized this. She'd experienced it, herself, a long time ago. She didn't want to frighten the girl, so she shifted, taking the vial that sat behind her, humming quietly and waiting for the girl to start to return to herself. She thought that using her real name might bring her back, but she'd given a false name for a reason. It wasn't a poor choice, if Olivia was perfectly honest. After all, when you didn't know if you could trust a faerie creature, a false name was safer than a real one. So, instead of pulling the girl back, she tapped a bit of the tincture into the sleeping potion she was working on and set it to simmer.
She kept watch over the girl for a long moment, and when she saw her eyes starting to refocus, she knew she'd come back from wherever she'd been. The anxiety that started to spike in her eyes saddened her. She kept close to her side, working on the potion, hearing the quiet sound of panicked breaths.
Once the potion was at the point it just needed to cool, she turned towards the girl, wiping her hands on her apron, giving her a bright smile. "We should have tea. Go have a seat in one of the chairs, and I'll see that some is brought to us."
Goblinskin jumped, looking towards her through wide-eyes and then she heaved a quiet breath, nodding her head. "I'm sorry. I must have been elsewhere, mentally."
"It's fine. That means it's a good time for us to take a break." She gave her a warm smile and headed towards the door to wave down a goblin. She requested a tea service and headed back towards Goblinskin was sitting. There was a tight furrow in the girl's brow. Rather than commenting on it, she took a moment to jot down a few notes for the potion she was working on. "We haven't had much time to just talk, and my lover is fond of telling me I don't rest often enough, anyways."
"Sarah inclined her head, frowning a bit in confusion, but she relaxed into her chair a bit. "I just don't want to end up being forced to leave because I can't carry my weight."
Olivia looked towards her, lifting a brow, and her lips pulled into a slow smile. She didn't understand, yet, that once she was acknowledged as a refugee by the King he wouldn't send her away. That was fine, she'd have time to learn that particular truth.
There was a quiet knock at the door and when it opened, Olivia found Fenris standing there with a tray in hand and an amused look on his handsome face. She blinked in surprise and turned towards him fully.
"Fenris." She moved towards him, taking the tray and noted there was an extra cup on it. Amused suspicion tore through her and she looked up into his eyes, feeling her lips twisting into a smile that was wider. "Were you coming to make me take a break?"
"I thought the two of you could use one," he admitted, and leaned down, kissing her on the lips. It took all of her concentration to not drop the tray to grab him and hold on for a little longer. But he was pulling away and she fought to not giggle and blush.
"Come on, then," she said and gestured towards the seats where Goblinskin had already settled. When she turned, she found the girl standing again, looking at them with wide eyes. Her eyes moved from her to Fenris and then back, her confusion clear.
"Fenris?" Goblinskin asked, her tone a little shaky. "What are you doing here?"
Olivia set the tray down on the low table in front of the seats and pretended to ignore the conversation.
"I have mentioned before that the healer doesn't take breaks often enough for my liking," he pointed out. Olivia could hear the smile in his voice. "Olivia and I have been friends and lovers for a very long time. I noticed over the last few days that you seem to have the same problem that she does. You work so hard that you can barely move at the end of the day."
"I didn't realize...that you two were talking about each other," the girl admitted.
Fenris helped Goblinskin back into her chair and took the one opposite them. Olivia glanced at them from under her brows, her lips quirking into a smile. "We're very good at separating our work from our private lives. With good reason. You know we're both friends with the king. Being able to draw that line between the two is partially why we're able to be."
Once everyone was seated and comfortable, Olivia dressed their tea and leaned back, considering how to bring up the topic on her own mind for a long moment.
"That line," she said, after a long moment," is why Jareth doesn't push either of us regarding what happened to you. And why he won't push you about it, either."
"Not that he isn't grumpy about us keeping secrets," Fenris acknowledged.
Olivia noted that the girl looked a little green and was having trouble breathing, again. She glanced towards Fenris and gestured towards her with her chin. She saw concern flash on his face when he saw the look in the girl's eyes. The silence hung in the air for a long moment before Olivia started to speak, again.
"We have a condition, here, that we call battle trauma." As she started speaking, Goblinskin's gaze fixed on her face, again. "In spite of the implications of the name, it can arise from different situations. Being in a violent battle is one, but personal trauma, long term abuse, and things like that can cause it. You're displaying symptoms of it."
Goblinskin straightened, looking startled. "I'm...what?"
Olivia reached over the table towards her, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. She felt Fenris's hand on her shoulder, the caress of his thumb in a slow circle. She took a moment and gathered her thoughts before she focused them into words. "Jareth told me that he saw you experience auditory hallucinations, when he first brought you to the castle. Your hands have battle tremors, and sometimes you stare off into space, like you're not really in your own body. I could claim the last one was you being deep in thought, but when you return you seem unaware how long you've been like that. That's just what I've seen since I started working with you, or heard second hand."
Goblinskin shivered, her hands scrubbing over her arms as if she was trying to rub warmth into them. "It's complicated. I...I can't talk about it. I barely managed -" She stopped herself, looking into her tea as though perplexed for a moment.
Olivia and Fenris glanced at each other in interest at what she 'barely managed', but didn't press her further on that.
"We're not asking you to," Fenris said, his voice gentle and quiet. It was the same tone he used when she would wake up from bad nightmares, to help soothe her. "Olivia and I know the signs of it so well because we've both lived through it, ourselves. When you're ready to talk about it, you're welcome to talk with either of us. But pretending that the trauma didn't happen isn't going to help you heal from it."
Olivia watched as the girl curled in on herself and squeezed the hand she still held. She understood how hard it could be to open up enough to be vulnerable again. Goblinskin lifted her eyes and looked at her, and Olivia gave her a warm smile. "It's okay to take your time healing. These kinds of wounds take a long time to repair, and magic can't fix it. But we'll help you get as close to who you were before it as we can. I promise."
Tears filled the girl's eyes and she bit her lower lip. After a long moment of silence, Goblinskin nodded, those tears falling behind her mask. A shuddering breath escaped her as if she'd been holding it for days.
"Thank you," was all she said.
. . .oOo.
Weeks turned to months, and during that time, a rotation had started to keep Goblinskin's days occupied. Twice a week, she helped Hoggle in the gardens. Three days, she helped Olivia with errands, notation, and whatever else she needed. One day a week, she assisted Jareth in his office, sorting his correspondence. The final day, Jareth insisted that she use it to rest and recover. In order to assure this, he gave her access to his considerable library.
Even with the mask on her face, he'd seen the way she lit up when he'd shown it to her for the first time. Her eyes wide with wonder, lips parted in surprise. She'd rushed to the shelves, her fingers hungrily running over the leather spines of the books and when she turned towards him he felt that strange twisting sensation, again.
He'd always known she loved to read, but he hadn't been prepared for that look on her face. A look she'd given him for a gift that wasn't even meant to be a big deal.
He couldn't even begin to decipher why it had given him that queer feeling. He wasn't certain he'd ever even begin to understand it. He wasn't certain how he felt about it at all. It wasn't necessarily unpleasant, but he wasn't sure he liked it, either. It felt hot, like there was energy building up under his skin. Like he was ready to burst from it. All it took after he showed her the library was just the memory of her eyes looking so bright and happy - the first time he'd seen her that way since she'd been here.
That smile was the first hint of the girl she'd been since she'd arrived here.
Today was a day she was working with Hoggle and he could hear them in the gardens, voices filtering up through his open office window.
A quiet knock at his office door drew his attention and he looked up as it opened. In the doorway he saw Fenris standing there with Olivia, both of them looking at him with resigned looks on their faces. He shifted, sitting upright in his chair and lifting a brow as they entered, shutting the door behind them.
"Is everything alright?"
"The goblins know who she is."
Jareth straightened a bit more in his seat and he lifted a brow in interest. They approached, sitting in the high backed chairs in front of his desk. "What do you mean, they know?"
"I'm fairly certain everyone does, at this point, Jareth," Olivia said, her voice quiet. "Except the wise man, and he's always been a little slow."
"His hat, however, definitely knows." Fenris gave a quiet snort of amusement. "I'm not certain how much longer this masquerade is going to be maintained. If she finds out that you know as well, she's going to run. And you can't protect her if she isn't here. I'm pretty certain that if the other kingdoms got their hands on her, she'd end up in sorry shape. Plenty of bastards in the Underground who would love to stick a knife in your side. Especially if they figure out you've been protecting her."
Jareth hated to admit it, but Fenris was right. The only place in the Underground she was safe was here. A sigh escaped him and he rubbed the furrow that was forming in his brow from the worries this girl gave him. There weren't many options to keep her from finding out he knew. After a long moment, he extended a hand to his side and snapped his fingers.
A round little goblin popped in beside him, looking up to him through the slit in his helm. It saluted and it's hand clanged loudly against the cast iron cauldron that served as a helmet. "Kinga."
"Fodder, I want you to pass a message through the goblin ranks. I know they're aware of the real identity of Goblinskin. They are to keep it a secret from me. If I know who she is, she'll feel unsafe. If she feels unsafe, she'll run away and be in danger. So you make certain they get that order. They are not to tell me under any circumstances. And if she finds out they know, they are to tell her that they will not tell me. Do you understand?"
Fodder looked up at him, just two almost glowing eyes from under the cauldron and then he caught a flash of teeth. "Yessir, Kinga."
"Explain it to me, then."
"Lady will be scared if you know who she is, so they can't tell you who she is, and if she finds out they know, they say they aren't going to tell you."
"Well done." He gestured, and the goblin scrambled away, off to spread his information. Jareth just hoped it didn't end up turning into the Underground's worst game of telephone ever.
"This is either going to go perfectly or it will backfire in the most spectacular way I've ever seen." Olivia's tone was nothing but dry amusement.
Jareth gave her a sly grin, his own amusement pushing him. "When are things ever not like that when goblins are involved, Olivia?"
They stayed for lunch, and after they left, he got to his feet, standing by the window and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it. He inhaled deeply and looked down into the gardens on this side of the castle, watching the girl and dwarf working together. He blew a plume of clove scented smoke out, watching it swirl in the afternoon air.
He admitted to himself he was curious about the girl, now. She seemed to be growing more comfortable here, with each day that she wasn't harmed. Like the time was helping her get stronger. It made him hope that whatever damage had been inflicted wasn't as permanent as what had been done to other refugees in his kingdom. Then again, perhaps she was just acclimating to the castle. She was still nervous whenever she was around him. It didn't interfere with her work when she was assisting him, however. It was as if she got so focused on her work that it was all that existed or even mattered.
That said, once or twice, her fingers had brushed his hand when they reached for the same piece of mail and her reaction was always the same. Her hand jerked away as if the contact had burned her, and then she'd look like she expected him to punish her. That troubled him. It annoyed him how much it troubled him.
He tried to not touch her. However, the more time he spent around her, the longer she spent around him, he felt an increased desire to do so. To brush loose hair over her ear, to pat her back at the end of the day. He tried to ignore those desires because she was still so afraid to be around him at all. He didn't want her to ever think that he expected her to be amenable to physical contact. Even if he found he wanted that contact.
He couldn't have explained it to anyone, even himself. He'd been intrigued by her when she'd been a girl. So much defiance and innocence. But now he was learning about the woman she was, rather than the girl he'd imagined her to be. A part of him wished he'd taken time to discover that before she'd been dragged back to the Underground. To have approached and met her as she'd been before she'd become an unfortunate victim of Marcas's cruelty. To see all the ways she'd changed from a spoiled brat after her time in the Labyrinth.
How much of who she was now was because of the trauma of what happened in the Shadow Kingdom, how much was from the lessons she'd learned during her run so few years ago, and how much was just part of who she was as a person?
No way to know any of that until she opened up to him more. That she'd told him of the accident she'd suffered at all was more than he'd expected after so little time. He heaved a sigh and another plume of clove scented smoke left him.
Before he could inhale again, a scream drew his attention and his eyes jerked down, finding the girl curled up on the ground, hands clasped over her ears. Hoggle was shaking her, as if to pull her out of whatever nightmare she'd been pulled into.
Jareth didn't remember making the decision to go to her. Between the scream and his next breath, he was standing in the gardens, feet away from her. Hoggle's eyes snapped towards him and he looked torn for a moment between his loyalty to the girl and his fear of his sudden appearance. He backed away a step, falling onto his backside. Jareth paid the dwarf no mind, just considered the girl for a long moment and noted her flailing was about to knock her mask loose. He dropped to a knee and with one hand, held the mask onto her face, the other resting on her shoulder to keep her still.
She flinched away from him, and it bruised his ego a bit, but he doubted she saw him in the first place.
"Goblinskin, attend," he commanded, keeping his voice low as he spoke. The words grabbed her attention, and she lifted her eyes to look at him. When she stopped flailing in her panic, he dropped his hands and stepped away from her. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Hoggle looking at him with a protective gleam in his eyes. He slanted a glance towards the dwarf and gave him a nod of acknowledgement before looking back towards the girl. "I believe you've worked enough for the day, Goblinskin. You're to go to your room and rest for the remainder."
She opened her mouth to object, and Hoggle caught her arm. "You've been working hard all morning, and you told me at breakfast you didn't sleep good last night."
Jareth lifted a brow at the words, suspecting that Hoggle was giving him the information, rather than reprimanding the girl.
"King's orders," Jareth said and he got to his feet, offering her his hand to aid her getting to her own. "Hogspit can keep you company if you wish, but you are going to rest. And if you argue, I'll just put a sleeping spell on you. If you're resting poorly, you will not work efficiently. I stated that people in this kingdom are my responsibility. That means ensuring their health and wellbeing as well. Come along, now."
He could have been mistaken but he thought he saw a hint of a defiant glare under the mask and the urge to give her a patronizing, patient smirk hit him hard. As it was, a slow, lazy smile curved his lips, almost hoping she'd pit her stubbornness against him. However, after a long moment, her eyes averted, as if she'd lost the fight with herself and she put her hand on his. He didn't rush her to her feet, letting her use him as an anchor and pull herself up on her own. She released it at once and looked towards Hoggle."
"Will you? Keep me company, I mean?"
"'Course," the dwarf said, blustering a little. "Come on, let's get you tucked in."
Jareth looked around the gardens for a long moment and made a decision, then. He took a steadying breath and addressed the dwarf before he had gone far. "Before you retire to your home for the evening, I want you to report to me. That's an order, Hoggle."
He felt, more than saw, the dwarf jerk in shock when he said his actual name.
They all three stood there in silence for a moment before Hoggle started leading the girl inside. Once they were gone, he looked at the hand she'd taken and glared at it. It had felt annoyingly cold since she'd released it, even though there was no reason for that. The day was perfectly balmy, with soft sunshine overhead. The air around him was comfortable. Still, he noticed too keenly when her hand had released his.
What the devil was wrong with him?
It took a moment to shake the sensation off, and he flexed his hand as he headed back to his office, leaning forward in his chair and settling in to work. He'd forgotten his cigarette somewhere, but he ignored that, burying himself in his work to ignore the strange feeling he got whenever he looked at the girl. Paying attention to the correspondence helped him pretend that there wasn't anything else bothering him.
That the blank look he'd seen in her eyes when he'd called her back from whatever nightmare she'd been in hadn't bothered him. That her fear of him didn't bother him.
He managed to pretend for a while, but when the monotony of the work caught up with him, he threw his pen to his desk and ink splattered across the blank paper beside his correspondence. The hand she'd used to get to her feet curled into a fist and he glared at it like it had betrayed him. He flexed again as if it would help him forget the feel of the warmth of her hand in his. A heaved sigh escaped him and he curled it into a fist, closing his eyes.
He hated that his temper and his patience were being tested like this. She was nothing more than a slip of a girl who he'd let play a game against him and she'd managed to scrape together a win. That win had put her in danger, so that's why he felt a responsibility towards her, now. It had nothing to do with anything else. It had nothing to do with the fact that his eyes were drawn to her when she was sitting in his office with him, helping him with his paperwork. Nothing at all to do with the soft sound of her voice filtering up through the open window, or the soft laugh when he'd pass near the healer's room to check in.
He'd tell himself that until he believed it.
Still, recently, he'd become more aware of her - of her presence, her scent, the shadows in her eyes, the curve of her smile.
Damn it all, he refused to think he'd gotten wound up over a mere mortal girl like her. Absolutely not. That had nothing to do with anything. There were no feelings. None, dammit.
He wasn't certain how long he'd been pacing after he sprung up, but it was full dark when there was a knock at his office door. He'd been so deep in thought the sound startled him and he turned toward sit, snarling a bit. Still, he shook himself and gestured for the door to open. This time, he found Hoggle standing outside and looking nervous. He waved a hand for the dwarf to approach and once he did, closed the door behind him.
"Y-you wanted a report, your majesty. The gardens -"
"The report was an excuse, Hoggle. It's been brought to my attention of late that I don't know all of my subjects as well as I pretend to - including, even, those I call friends. You and your mother immigrated here, ages ago. I want your story. Why did you come to the Goblin Kingdom?
Hoggle looked startled by the question and then he shifted from one foot to the next, looking at the floor. "It's complicated."
Jareth returned to his chair, leaning back in it and lifting a brow at him. "As opposed to anyone else's reasons?"
"Are you going to ask Fenris and Olivia?" The dwarf asked, scoffing at the idea, and crossing his arms, looking annoyed.
"Fenris volunteered his story, and I suspect it cost him for a while after he did. I'll ask Olivia for her own when I stop valuing my neck quite so much. Suffice to say I've been allowing creatures from across the Underground to immigrate here as refugees without knowing any of their reasons. I know no one runs without reason, but at this point, not knowing the reasons is leading to ignorance on my own part and I'll not suffer that. So you'll share your story with me. Or will I have to go and ask your mother?"
Hoggle bristled at the ultimatum, glaring at him from under his bushy brows. He pulled the hat off his head and twisted it between his hands, thinking for a long moment. "Wasn't her fault, ya know? She didn't do nothing wrong. Wasn't her fault. Was my fault, being born so ugly."
Jareth lifted a brow and gestured for him to take a seat across the desk from him. "Have a seat, Hoggle."
The dwarf looked surprised again, and then he did as he was told. His hands curled together around the hat, gripping so tight Jareth could see the skin of his knuckles turning light. It was a moment before Hoggle got his thoughts together enough to say much of anything. "The families didn't know at the time, ya know? Not mum's family, the ruling families, the upper classes. They just saw an uncommonly beautiful dwarf lady with larger than usual eyes. Didn't know that her grandfather was Gibbergeist, a goblin of unusual stature and charm. So, when my mum married and had a boy-child, and it was a throwback to her grandfather, everyone assumed she'd been unfaithful to my father. After all, that was the only possible reason they could think of that such a beautiful couple could have such an ugly offspring."
Jareth watched Hoggle for a long moment when he went silent, his brow furrowed in upset. "They ran you out?"
"Nah, they were going to kill her and me besides. Couldn't have a bastard wandering around, right? Dwarf politics are funny like that." He looked down at his hands, his face tired and sad. "When mum's family found out, they bundled me and her up and told her to run. Goblin Kingdom's the only one that doesn't care why you're there, right? 'Sides, 's where her grandfather still was. Don't regret coming here, not either of us. But mum wasn't the same after it. But you gave her work, and me too when I was of age."
"Why have you always been so afraid of me, then?"
Hoggle lifted his eyes and looked at him after a moment. "Because you're still the king, and a fae besides. Not meaning no offense, but your kind aren't known for kindness without expectation. Better known for cruelty and changeability and hiding your feelings behind a mask of arrogance. Fae are fickle. Ya smile, even to each other, and then you take a turn and stab another in the back. And unlike Fenris and Olivia, I'm a coward and quite fine with that."
It wasn't an unreasonable thing, he supposed, and it had never caused a real problem between the two of them. He considered the dwarf for a long moment and then nodded his head in acceptance. "Very well, then. You can return to your home. It is late and you've given me all the information that I require."
Hoggle got to his feet and headed towards the door where he paused and looked back at the king. Jareth lifted a brow and then narrowed his eyes on him. "If'n you don't mind me askin' -"
"What, Hoggle?"
"You seem you're takin' a lot more interest in Goblinskin than you did any of the rest of us when we got here. Why is that?"
Jareth sat back, considering that for a long moment. It wasn't the first time he'd been told that. Olivia and Fenris had both mentioned it. He couldn't say he'd known her before, because Hoggle didn't realize he'd known she was Sarah and if he told him, the coward would rat him out to the girl in a heartbeat. It also would do him no good to mention the burgeoning powers she appeared to have, yet. "She's mortal, Hoggle. This isn't like with you or Fenris or Olivia. She's also off, as if in order to bring her here, a part of her was torn away from the rest. As a result, I have more things to take into consideration for her protection than I did for any other refugee before her. If part of her still resides above, then she's at risk if anything happens to that part of her."
Hoggle paled and straightened, as if he hadn't considered that. "If that's true, why don't ya just send her back?!"
He didn't answer to the dwarf, but their goals were similar. "Because, Hoggle, if Marcas has his eyes on her, sending her back will just put her at further risk. No, this requires a delicate balancing act. So, for now, just do as you have been. Be her friend and confidant. Let me worry about the bigger things. Like what the kingdom is going to do when Marcas inevitably figures out that she was smuggled out of his kingdom by one of my spies."
Hoggle paled further, the only required acknowledgement that he knew exactly what sort of man Marcas was, and then he nodded his head, a stubborn look forming on his face. "I'll keep the little lady guarded while she's with me, your majesty."
"I know you will, Hoggle. As I said before, go home. She's safe enough for the evening." The dwarf did something unusual that surprised him, then. He dropped into a short bow, a clear sign of respect, and then hurried out of the room. Jareth watched him go, smothering his shock at this.
Once he was gone, he tapped his fingertip under his nose. He doubted the dwarf noticed how telling his action was, that his concern for the girl overwhelmed his fear. Better to not tell him, he decided, and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and heaving a sigh.
It was late and he was tired. He pinched the bridge of his nose and released a slow breath before getting to his feet and heading to his room. As ever, he passed through the hall where Goblinskin's door should be and paused, closing eyes and listening for any sounds within. When he heard nothing, he continued onwards towards his own room.
They were right. He was more intent on her than he'd been with other refugees. More aware of her, more concerned for her. Damned if he could explain why. Their history was the excuse he could use, but he wasn't certain it was as simple as that. He suspected he was starting to care about her, as much as he did Olivia and Fenris. He wasn't just worried about her healing or her mental state. He found that he looked forward to that one day every week where she'd visit him in his office and help him with work. He found himself anticipating it each week, making certain that they'd get a tea service around lunch, regardless of if she would talk with him or not. It was as if the mere idea of having a chance to monopolize her attention for that brief time pleased him.
It was a concern, but no matter how he promised himself each week that he wouldn't let himself get wound up about it, this time, every day she'd come to his offices, he was.
Once he was in his rooms, he threw himself under the shower, glaring at the tiled wall with intense frustration.
He didn't like it. Whatever this was, he didn't think he liked it. Why should he feel nervous butterflies in his stomach before she arrived at his office? Why should his skin crave the warmth of hers? Why did he find that he missed the sound of her voice whenever she was working with Olivia instead of in the gardens?
He needed to cut whatever this was off before he ended up more twisted up than he already felt.
The question was how to do that without causing her more harm.
He supposed he could have sent her to the kitchens, rather than having her spend time helping him. But he hadn't, and now he wanted that company. He didn't want to send her somewhere else to work. In fact, he found that he wanted her to come work with him more often, though she was so efficient that he didn't have enough work to justify more than once a week.
A snarl curled his lips and he punched the shower wall, ignoring the ache in his bones afterwards. Instead of the pain driving the thoughts from his mind, it made him realize he was fighting against a rising tide. A groan escaped him and he leaned his forehead against his arm, closing his eyes in resignation.
"Woman, what are you doing to me?"