Time stopped, Death hesitated, and the Goblin King smiled.
His triumph exploded throughout the room – his power tasted of his conquer. She would be his, willingly.
Her grandfather's body shied from the rush of power, but more painful, anguished at Sarah's declaration. All he had fought for was in vain. His beautiful granddaughter would now suffer for the Goblin King. Sharp memories attacked his mind as he remembered what it had been to suffer upon the hands of the fae…
The rogue fae had come upon his manor, bloodlust carved into every region of his face – exquisite beauty; distorted with rage – the mask of a monster. Sarah's grandfather had heard the screams of the children outside, swept up his broadsword into his right hand, his daggers lifted into his left.
The grass was no longer green. Bodies of children littered the lawn, drenched in the crimson blood.
The children, oh gods… the children.
Laughter. Joyous laughter upon a field of defilement, violation. One glance was all it took – Sarah's grandfather saw upon the face of the fae lightened amusement, coated in the blood of children, his family.
Afterwards he couldn't remember what happened, what he had done. All he could see in his mind was the ending of the rouge fae, daggers pierced into his belly, the sword sunk to the hilt – through his heart. The monsterous mask no longer snarled or smirked in joy – his life had fled his body. It was then that her grandfather lost unconsciousness.
He awoke to the pain derived from his captor's hands. Chained, naked, blood seeping from innumerable wounds. Screams of confusion tore from his mouth as his body became a canvas for his captor's fury. His own blades drawn against him……
Torture, excruciating agony forever remembered upon his skin. The fae only returned to him to break his body, attempt to break his mind. Unspeakable actions by his captor, to quench his fury, or entertain his guests. They took their pleasure in his humiliation, his abasement…The fae had existed inside their realm for hundreds of centuries – they had been able to perfect the arts of torture during the span of time.
So long he was held inside the stone walls, he no longer sensed the passage of time. Beatings, starvation, despair. One ideal forced him to live – his innate stubbornness became his core, to mix with his hatred of all things fae. Those fuckers would never see him die at their hands. He would take his revenge with all the vengeance allowed to him by the wrathful gods. To create such agony upon another for the sake of pride…..
He would kill them all. He would claim his blades, and make them pray for Hell.
They had been keeping him only to punish him, a mortal, for the obliteration of a demi-god fae. Their pride would not allow such a mortal to exist, even when his actions were justified. For her grandfather to survive under the kindly administrations of the fae for so long, his captor had became even more enraged. He was remarkably strong for a mere mortal, but due to the ignorance of his sadist captor, he was able to hide his intelligence. He would make him pay, regardless of his captor's lineage.
In his drunken rages, Sarah's grandfather accrued information crucial to the demise of his captor. He was royalty of the court, related to the King himself. An uncle. A fucking bastard of an uncle in the royal line. Through marriage he had managed to grasp high social status, the court would not have him until he had secured the marriage to a royal female. Even now, the court barely tolerated him.
It was during another of his captor's rages that his captor, obscenely drunk, dropped the blade in his furies against him. That was all it took.
He opened up his captor with his blade, again familiar in his hand. He left him to bleed out upon the floor. His hunt for the others who had enjoyed his treatment took little time. He slaughtered them all, and made their blood run through the giant hallways to rain down upon them from the sky.
His vengeance was not yet complete as he returned to his captor, who remained upon the floor. Rage clouded all thought from his mind. He was not merciful as he delivered true death.
Sarah's grandfather at first didn't understand how he came again to be in the human realm. It was only until later did he realize that his captor had broken the bonds that he had previously placed on Sarah's grandfather. The action had been intended as a last attempt to drag him into hell, but the captor could not control wild magic – and sent him into the human world instead. The blessed irony.
Most important were his new talents, magicks. He had been inside the world of the fae long enough to be "touched" by the otherworldly realm, and on the receiving end of so much fae attention that he was no longer truly mortal; but something more. New talents shown in speed, agility, physical strength, magical prowess, age. At Sarah's birth, he was over 300 years old. Dedicating every waking moment to the destruction of the fae.
And now, his granddaughter had given herself willingly – despair cried from every fiber of his body. If the Goblin King accepted… gods, no. The horrors that would await her in the dungeons, the court…the bedchamber of the King... Sarah had only ever experienced the adrenaline of the fight – nothing of the true nature of the fae. He loved his granddaughter, knew that she was of his line, and therefore stronger than the average mortal. Her spirit overwhelmed many fae, and she could handle herself in almost any situation. But alone against the Goblin King, he knew. He would quench her light, and she would be no more.
Her voice startled him out of his haze.
"Goblin King – Of this I beg you, heal them and send them home, and place them under your personal seal, mandate an order for their protection against any of either of our realms. They will become valuable bounty as soon as they leave. Please Goblin King…please." Sarah's voice cracked with emotion.
"I will be yours, if you can give me these things I ask."
Sarah knelt her face to the floor. The tears would soon come. She could hear her grandfather yell underneath his gag, Toby wailed through his restraints. She knew they would never accept her decision, but she prayed to the gods for the forgiveness of her family.
The Goblin King's voice rang across the marble of the room. Sarah's heart broke. Her grandfather despaired. Toby stiffened – past the point of pain.
"Sarah, I accept your offer."