The Truth of a Lie

a/n: I do not own Labyrinth. This chapter was beta-ed by AngelaScarlett, who is always quick and nice about it.

Chapter 4 – To Save the Day, Or Maybe Melt Away

Naroof, son of Looner and Carpen, ripped his teeth into the deer he had been roasting all day. Sometimes, he did not even bother with the roasting, but the demon needed something to do to pass the time. The men who had offered him the soul of this Fae needed him to bide his time until they said it was okay. The deal had been this: a pretty girl would subdue the Fae king, and then he would take the king to his lair, and wait. When it was done, they told him that he could have the soul of the king.

Naroof survived by sucking the souls from living things. His mouth was a round hole, with puckered lips that jutted out from his face. He covered the mouths of his victims, and sucked until their very essence was gone. The more powerful the being, the more filling the soul. Sure, the deer that had been turning on the spit would fill his enormous stomach, but the souls would fill his consciousness. The souls would keep him alive. And the soul of this Fae would fill him for a long time.

He had been tempted to suck the soul from the girl who had subdued this king, but he knew he could not violate the agreement between himself and the powerful men that had come to him. Naroof never broke a promise. He was a demon of his word.

Naroof knew he had no special powers beyond his ability to suck the souls from things. He was a fearsome fighter however, and he would fight to keep his Fae here. When the men gave the order, he would suck the soul from this Fae, and then consume his flesh.

Naroof stood up and walked to the beautiful figure chaines to his wall.

"Such a shame, it is truly beautiful flesh," Naroof let one of his gnarled and red fingers trace a trail down the pale cheek of the king. He was like an angel, this Fae. His pale blond hair, and his soft skin. His skin was chafed where the chains held his wrists, and Naroof momentarily lamented the scars the iron chains would certainly leave. He had been watching this Fae for days now, and every day he felt himself being drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. His soul would be so sweet, so filling, and his flesh would be like pure honey in his mouth. Naroof backed away and sat back down to his meal.

That was when he heard a small step. Naroof tilted his ear to his right, towards the opening of the cave. A boot if he was not mistaken, which would mean a two-footed creature. Was it his employers? Could he know suck the soul of the king? No, it was too soon. So, a rescuer? Someone found out where he was? The figure had grown silent, and Naroof knew the rescuer was waiting for the right time to attack. Then, he was surprised as a young girl walked straight into his cave, no weapons drawn. She was tall, and lithe. She was encased in red, from head to toe. Her face was covered, but her eyes were gray and calculating. Her hair was long and brown, drawn back in a braid. Her weapons collection was formidable, and she wielded power. Naroof sniffed the air and smelt the power that dwelt within her. She would be a succulent feast. He smacked his puckered lips, and was pleased to see her disgust. Let her be disgusted, let her scream, he did not care. Her eyes narrowed as he took a step, and then she drew a fearsome blade from the scabbard at her back. The blade was slightly curved, and at least two and a half feet long.

"Come on, little girl, you do not want to hurt old Naroof, do you?" he rasped, and took another step towards her.

"Let His Majesty go," she said. It was a command. He saw her eyes dart over to the chained figure.

"I am sorry little girl, but as soon as I get the order from the gentlemen who hired me, I am going to devour this Fae's soul, and then consume his flesh. I am afraid you will be joining him soon enough," Naroof drew a blade from the scabbard at his hip, and then he charged the girl. His three-foot blade met hers in a shower of sparks. She was quick, and very agile. Naroof swung again, aiming for her legs, but once again she met him, and forced his blade upwards. This time she swung, aiming for his stomach in a terrible slice, but Naroof blocked her deftly. She swung around and backed off, changing tactics. Naroof saw her consider him for a second, before coming back at him. There was a flurry of sparks and clangs, and Naroof thought she was just as capable as he. Soon, he felt himself losing ground, and being forced towards a wall. Being trapped would not be a good thing. He turned suddenly, so he was not being backed into the wall.

Had Naroof noticed he had put himself with his back towards his camp fire, maybe things would have turned out different. But with a mighty kick, Sarah caused the large demon to lose his footing, and he tumbled backwards into the fire.

Naroof screamed, unable to see through the smoke being created by the charring of his red flesh. It smelled terrific, like the creatures he roasted, but the pain was horrific, as though his own soul was being sucked away. Such was his distraction, he did not see the girl bearing down on him until the last second. He was not in time however, and her fearsome blade sliced his stomach open with one strike, and then there was nothing.

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Sarah stared at the severed head that had landed across the room, and then at the spilled entrails that were cooking in the fire Naroof had landed in.

"He had no idea what he was facing," Sarah sighed. Her red leather was covered in blood, as was her hair and skin. She looked terrible. She used a spare bit of cloth she found near the king to wipe her blade before she sheathed it. It would not do to have her blade rust.

Sarah walked over to the severed head and tossed it into the fire, watching smoke once again fill the room.

"He was an ugly fucker," Sarah remarked as she turned to the whole reason she had traveled this far, "Hello, Your Majesty"

The Goblin King was still asleep, and Sarah was grateful. She adjusted her face mask and walked over to the chains. They were made of iron, and she could see why he could not have escaped. Sarah found a rock on the floor of the cave and used it to break the chains that bound her charge to the wall. She caught him as he crumpled, and then she laid him down on what she was sure had been Naroof's bed. It was probably not clean, but it would have to do for now.

Sarah quickly tabulated his injuries. His head had a small gash on it, which had clotted but not healed. His lower lip was split, most likely from dehydration. His clothes were tattered. His wrists were chaffed and red. She rolled him over and could see that his back had not been injured. On his left arm was the gash that had been caused by the glass on his window, a clotted cut about three inches long. It was jagged and looked terribly painful. Other than that, nothing was too damaged. Sarah boiled some water on the fire and used another spare bit of cloth to clean the wounds. She ripped apart a spare sheet to bandage the wound on his arm, and then she covered him up.

Sarah stared at the figure on the makeshift bed and wondered what exactly had happened to this king. She was not sure she wanted to know the answers. She put her back to a nearby wall of the cave and closed her eyes, waiting for His Majesty to awaken.

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It took two days. Two days for him to awaken. In that time Sarah had disposed of the ashes in the fire, and built a new one. She had made a rough broom from the twigs she found here and there in the forest nearby, and had swept out the cave. She had washed the makeshift bed and she had washed the Goblin King also, or what she could of him. She had wiped the blood from her own clothing, and she had bathed in a nearby stream herself. She had secured a lot of vegetables, and had made a soup from them. She had sterilized water for them both to drink, and she had meditated when she could do nothing else.

A groan had been the first sign the Goblin King was awakening. The groan was hoarse, and rough, but still a sound. Sarah rushed to his side, and watched to see if he opened his eyes. And then, he did. Two mismatched eyes looked at her hazily, as if they could not see her distinctly. Then he tried to sit up. Sarah pushed him back down, which he instinctively tried to fight.

"Your Majesty, I am a Found of the Trefnu gan Seren Rhyfedd. I have been sent to rescue you. I have slain the demon Naroof, and you are free of your bonds. As soon as I deem you well enough to travel, we will make our way back to the Goblin City, and relieve Alis and Alun of the position I have put them in," Sarah smiled, relieved he had stopped fighting her.

"Water," he gasped. Sarah lifted the dipper from the small barrel she had been using to store the sterilized water, and held the Goblin King's head. She tilted it slightly so he did not choke, and she slowly poured the water into his mouth. He coughed and sputtered at first, but then he began to drink. She let him drink three dipperfuls of water before she put it away.

"More," the king asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Your Majesty, I fear that we will need to take it slowly. You have been very dehydrated and malnourished. Sleep now, and when you awaken I will give you more," Sarah lowered his head and the king drifted off, obviously not in any position to disagree with her.

Sarah took this time to fashion a comb out of small sticks and some twine she had found. She combed as many tangles out of his long hair as she could, and she bathed him again. Sarah also set about making more soup. She would give anything for some bread right now. Sarah sat up against the wall and shut her eyes, in the half sleep she had become accustomed to. She knew she would hear him when he finally woke again.

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It was hours later when His Majesty awoke. This time Sarah let him sit up, and he looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

"Who are you? What is your name?" he asked, using an authoritative tone.

"My name is not important. I am a Found of the Trefnu gan Seren Rhyfedd. My assignment was to rescue you and take you back to your castle," Sarah told him, mindful to not tell him who she was.

"Do you know Found Morwen?" he asked her, looking a little concerned.

"I do," Sarah told him.

"Is she quite well?" the Goblin King asked her.

"She was when I left, Your Majesty. Why do you ask?" Sarah replied.

"She is the last thing I remember seeing," the king murmured.

A growing feeling of dread spread throughout Sarah's body. Morwen had been the last thing he had seen? Her mind working faster than usual, she worded her next question carefully, "Your Majesty, I know you saw Found Morwen on a regular basis. I am aware, through my own investigations, that she was in your bed that night, or some night before it. In the interest of getting to the bottom of this, can you please tell me what transpired that evening?"

The king looked at her with consideration, and then cleared his hoarse throat, "Found Morwen joined me for dinner. I can only remember having culumus pie. I took her into my study, and then used a secret passageway to get to my chambers. I trust you know of Found Morwen's capabilities as a courtesan?" Sarah nodded, so he continued, "From there I only remember a few things. She went to use the restroom, then she came out and kissed me. Everything is fuzzy and disjointed after that. I remember a woman's haughty laughter, voices murmuring, a roar, flashes of red skin and black leather, very cold air, and I remember catching my arm on my window. I can remember nothing after that until waking up just now. I suspect more memories may return the more I heal"

The more the king told her, the more Sarah began to suspect something terrible was happening. She knew now that it was Morwen who was behind this. Morwen was known for her specially made lipstick, which held a number of poisons inside of it. No one knew the recipe, for Morwen made the vile stuff herself.

The Founds were all trained as courtesans. Their training started when they were thirteen, with the taking of their virginities by their Founders. It was a ritual as old as the Order itself. The male Founds were also trained thusly, usually by a female Founder. After Sarah had been deflowered, she was trained in some things by her Founder, and in some things by a female Founder. Morwen was the one who took such pleasure in the art of seduction and in the delights of the bedroom. Sarah knew that she might enjoy it one day, but seducing a male or female just to kill them or gather information seemed low to her. It was one of the many reasons she did not like Morwen. Morwen could make men like the Goblin King care, and then kill them without blinking. It was also known that Morwen took great pleasure in sharing the bed of Founder Gabriel to this day. Sarah still did, out of obligation and custom, but she never found pleasure in it. Founder Corsair was neither a considerate lover, nor a pleasant lover.

"Found, why do you wear that mask?" the king asked, startling her out of her reverie.

"For reasons of my own, Your Majesty. I do not want you to know who I am," Sarah explained simply.

"Take it off, I demand it!" the Goblin King stated emphatically.

"Your Majesty, I mean no disrespect, but I am not your subject, and am not subject to your commands. I do what I am ordered to do by those who have the right. You have no --," Sarah paused, revising the words she knew would jog his memory, "You have no say in what I wear or how I wear it. Now I suggest we eat something and then seek our beds. Tomorrow we may see if you can walk. If you can get around a little tomorrow, then the next day we best start back for your castle. I am afraid poor Alis and Alun may be run ragged by those goblins of yours before long," Sarah said with a smile in her voice as she dished up soup for them both. After a moment the king began to drink the soup, and Sarah settled down to do the same.

It is going to be a long trip back, Sarah thought to herself, as she lifted her mask just enough to tip the bowl into her mouth.