As far as I know, the public transportation down the Hudson is completely made up. I'll be honest, I haven't proof-read all that well. Thank you for your love and suppooooort!
EDIT: I have made this chapter a little less intense. My younger self lacked some…empathy and experience. I wanted to explore the many types of dreams one could have.
So, TW (trigger warning) torture, drowning.

Sarah woke with a start. She turned her head to the left and looked at the clock.

5:58am; two minutes before her alarm would go off. It was Tuesday.

She reached her left hand down and felt between the mattress and boxspring; all three inches of the iron nail Sarah had hidden were still there.

She hadn't dreamt.

She quickly pinched herself and gave a squealing "ouch" in reply. She really was awake.

Had the fortifications really worked? Is that why there was no visit from Jareth?

Her alarm snapped her out of her thoughts. She went through her morning routine of stretches before getting dressed. A cold shower, breakfast of fresh fruit, and the contentment of a good slumber (even if it was only four hours) let Sarah start her morning in a cheery mood. She wondered if she should skip school; she had sick days left over, and she didn't have a final today...

"No," she thought to herself. "Might as well attend." The end of the year was always fun, anyhow. They didn't do anything in classes except hang out and play games.

The bus ride to school was uneventful.

"Hey, Sarah!" greeted her friend Delilah cheerfully in the hallway. Their lockers neighbored each other and they had homeroom together. They had taken swimming together as kids; Delilah had stuck with it, and Sarah had given it up for dance and acting. Though, they made sure to get to the pool together at least twice a month.

"Morning, Delilah. How was your Biology final yesterday?"

"Eh. I know I did pretty well. But, eh."

Sarah smiled, "I'm sure it went well."

"Hey, want to go to the pool this weekend?" asked Delilah.

"Ya, sure! That actually sounds great. Let's go later in the day, not 5am," Sarah said with a little laugh. "It's summer. No need to rise before the sun."

Delilah gave a dramatic sigh. "Fiiiiine. If you insist," she said with a wink.

Sarah disappeared into her thoughts. Today felt normal. It was hard to believe the Goblin King had come back into her life. Was he gone?

"Earth to Saraaaaah. Hellooooo?"

teased Delilah. "Where'd you go? You can't start summer brain just yet, it's still finals week."

Sarah gave a little laugh, "Sorry, you know me."

Sarah and Delilah decided to call it a half day; the administrative office didn't have a problem with them heading home early, and they stopped for shakes before Delilah dropped off Sarah.

Sarah was glad for the extra study time—but her thoughts wandered often, distracted by a little piece of paper on her desk with "" written on it.

She decided to go down to the city early and check out the shop.

Mikel's ballet classes took place north of the Bronx. Modern took place right in Manhattan, while jazz and tap both actually took place on the west side of the Hudson River in "West New York," which was technically New Jersey. Sarah was glad for the train that ran up and down the Hudson between Albany and the City.

The shop was in Long Island City; thanks to the subway, Sarah could navigate the different NYC burroughs with ease. The subway was a very practical way to travel around.

The subway was terrifying.

Sarah hated the smell, the common outbreak of violence, and the shady characters and their dealings. The subway system was an "underground" of which Sarah did not want to be part. She always got in and out as fast as she could, keeping her head down and eyes forward.

This time, two stops from Long Island City, she dared to lift her eyes and glance around. The surrounding crowds were multicultural. Every style of fashion from their current decade—and even the past decades—were present. Before today, Sarah had never really seized the chance to truly take in the scene around her. The graffiti had a certain artistic beauty to it. The mish-mash of peoples and things was odd, yet kind of sweet. No one was a stranger here. She watched two men, one of Asian heritage and the other with dark skin, trade money and a small package. An old, short woman walked around with a carton of apples for sale.

There was a man, assuredly homeless, as he was more a heap of cloths and clothes than man, sitting on the ground, a small collection of shiny baubles around him. Two people, equally bundled and so short Sarah assumed they had dwarfism, stopped and traded shiny objects with him. They were so bundled she could barely see their eyes. Sarah blinked; she realized there was something inhuman about these short little men—was their skin...green...?

She blinked once more, and they appeared as human again...odd, yet human.

The pair of short ones noticed her looking, and skittered away into the crowd, suddenly disappearing before any distance had been made between them. The one on the ground grabbed a blanket behind his head and folded himself into a cocoon.

Sarah wrinkled her brow. She was just seeing things, she thought to herself...

When Sarah emerged into the streets of the Big Apple, she gave a little shudder, as if to shake off the heebie jeebies of the subway system. She walked the short distance to the supposed shop of fairy etc. archives, and found herself in front of a tiny, unassuming storefront. She pulled the piece of paper on which she had written the shop's address out of her pocket and uncrumpled it from a ball; sure enough, this was the correct address. The storefront window was so caked in dirt, the inside wasn't visible. The door was half-open, and it looked as though the shop was literally overflowing with books; stacks of ancient, thick books so worn titles were no longer visible covered the doorway, threshold, and sidewalk. The only advertisement visible was a hand-painted, wooden sign hanging over the doorway.

"Genie Starlett's Shop of Lore and Fantasy: archive and museum" it read in chipped red and blue paint.

Sarah sighed and pushed the door fully agape, climbing through heaps of books; a musical bell chimed, announcing her arrival.

Sarah gave the place a little more credit than she did at its first appearance, as it was bigger on the inside. The store was not very wide but was split level, and the front half of the shop was approximately thirty feet deep. In the middle of the room was an ornate, wooden staircase which lead to the second level, of which Sarah could only see the equally-as-ornate banister that separated the upper floor and a ten foot drop. Sarah walked to her left to view the back half of the first floor hidden behind the staircase; it was very much the same as the front, aside from the several, tall wardrobes and cabinets haphazardly grouped together in the left corner.

Every square inch of the walls was covered in books packed tightly into bookshelves. The space was half library, half museum. Glass display cases were every couple of feet. Sarah glanced into the nearest case, where she saw a tiny, humanoid skeleton no taller than four inches. She walked to the next case; Sarah gasped as she viewed a jar two feet tall that held an amphibious humanoid floating in what Sarah assumed was formaldehyde.

"It's easier to believe the unseen," came an old voice that sounded as dusty as the bookstacks on the floor. Sarah stepped back with a start and looked up; over the banister peered an old woman. She had long, unbound, iron-colored hair with streaks of white that drifted around her like mist; Sarah noted that it seemed to drift about without wind. Even from the first floor, Sarah noticed piercing, ice-blue eyes behind cateye spectacles. The woman wore a wine-red, floor-length robe over her loose, black pant and shirt that fit like drapes hanging on a curtain rod. Around her neck was a pile of necklaces, chains, and miscellaneous vials and trinkets; Sarah wondered how the thin, old woman still stood tall and straight without being weighed down. In the supposed shop-owner's left hand was a mug out of which steam rose and curled.

"When your own imagination is at play, believing is easy," said the woman, beginning to descend the staircase. "A tangible thing is easy to disbelieve. Something to fight against. 'It must be a fake,' you say to yourself. 'I'm sure the shape is just a mutation, a coincidence.' Even scholarly souls will disbelieve the most obvious answers; proof is not enough if it goes against what the multitudes call 'reason' and 'common sense.'"

The woman reached the ground floor and took a sip from her mug; she was barefoot and now only ten feet from Sarah. Sarah could not bring herself to say anything. She was mesmerized by the woman. There was something regal and powerful about her presence, as if she were the library full of knowledge, not the building itself.

"That's a Nixie, also known as a Kelpie. I'm Genie Starlett. What brings you here, my dear?" she asked. She smiled. Sarah noticed her entire demeanor changed with a smile. She now seemed more like a grandmother than a professor.

"I'm just doing some research," said Sarah rather blandly. She wasn't quite sure what to say.

Genie lifted her glasses and closed the distance between them. She looked into Sarah's eyes and crinkled her already wrinkled brow in thought.

"Hmmm..." she mused, her smile fading.

She took Sarah's chin gently in her free hand and tilted Sarah's face left and right.

"You've seen," she said solemnly.

Sarah widened her eyes with a gasp. She stepped back. She didn't know why she was suddenly nervous. She had never told anyone about the Underground. She realized now the realest thing in her life was also her biggest secret. She had never told a living soul, and now this woman knew from a single look; Sarah felt exposed, as if she were standing without clothing.

It all came pouring out. Sarah began to tell her story and couldn't stop.

"It was an accident...I made a wish that I didn't mean, and..."

Genie listened intently as Sarah spoke and led her by the hand behind the staircase. They sat on an antique, overstuffed sofa and Genie poured Sarah a cup of tea from the kettle on the adjacent end table.

Sarah finished; "It's over now. Or it was. Though, I talk often with my friends from the Labyrinth. I suppose it's all begun again now that the Goblin King has decided to pursue me in my dreams."

Sarah sipped her tea; it seemed to be home-brewed: Rose hips, violets, honey, and something else Sarah couldn't identify that gave it a little spice.

The pair sat in silence for a few moments while Genie thought.

"My dear, what is your name?" the elderly woman asked.

"Sarah."

"Well, Sarah, I have met many people who come looking for answers. Many. I can honestly say, in my whole life, I have only met two or three who have truly believed. Humans have a habit of getting in their own way. Humans like simple, the in-complex. For the race with the biggest imagination, the most grandiose dreams, and the strongest will to believe, rarely do they truly open their minds to the magical. You, my girl, don't just believe it; you live it. You embrace it, you've experienced it."

"I still don't know as much as you think," said Sarah quickly. Genie was looking at her with awe. "I suppose I've taken it for granted. I know it all exists, but I don't think I truly understand it all. I don't think I understand any of it! That's why I'm here..."

"I think I can help," said Genie with a smile. She rose and walked around the staircase and ascended; Sarah followed.

At the top of the stairs in the center of the upper level was a small pulpit. The walls were also full and overflowing bookshelves. In the far right corner was a ladder leading into an open hatch in the ceiling. In the far left was a large wardrobe with several padlocks. Next to it was a small yet modern safe. The juxtaposition of the safe was striking, as it looked rather high-tech and quite expensive.

Genie first walked to a shelf and pulled two book from it. One was green and one was brown, and both were leather-bound and quite small.

"These are about the Fae. Read them and keep them as long as you like." She stepped behind the pulpit. "Here," Genie directed Sarah's attention. Sarah hadn't even noticed the giant book lying on the pulpit. Genie laid her left hand on the book that was almost half a foot thick. The cover was red leather, and it looked like it was hand-bound with leather chords rather than with a machine that would create a book-spine with glue.

"This book is a collection of everything we humans define as mythical and magical. That is, it's a collection of everything that has been proven to exist, so I know. The final chapter is all collected speculation, urban legends that still deserve merit."

"Is this everything that you have in your Web database?" asked Sarah.

"Of course! It's almost the 21st century, we can't bet on paper to last forever, now can we?" Genie said with a wink.

"Ms. Starlett..." began Sarah.

"Please," the woman interrupted, "call me Andrea. Genie is just a pseudonym. Sounds more like the 60's; it attracts a larger crowd."

Sarah smiled. "Andrea, can you help me? Can you help me defend myself?"

"My dear, I will do my best. While I do have a bit of a collection here, most of what I can give you is knowledge. Ah!" she exclaimed, pointing a finger into the air. "I do have something. Not here, if you come back later in the week I should have it. Looksee..." she beckoned, leaning over the book. Sarah came closer as Genie—Andrea, opened the book. The table of contents was divided into a hierarchy. The two largest were Proof and Speculation. The two smaller categories were Beings, broken into the sections Humanoid and Animal, and Objects, broken into the sections Weapons, Defense, and Tools.

Andrea turned to Defense, ran her finger down it's own table of contents, and turned more pages. The whole book was hand written.

Genie opened the book to a page with a drawing of a dream catcher.

"This is what you need. I know of one woven from unicorn hair and will certainly obtain it for you. The thing you should know about dream catchers is the fact they have varying levels of strengths. Unicorn hair should provide pretty powerful protection from ill will, but as you know, words and intent are tricky when dealing with magic."

Things aren't always what they seem in this place...Sarah heard in the back of her mind.

"I understand. Thank you. Thank you for sharing this all with me," said Sarah sincerely.

"Of course, dear! It's so refreshing to find someone who has also had magical experiences. Being a curator of all this knowledge is a lonely life. I've been called crazy and worse. I'm happy to help however I can, please visit me whenever you'd like. Humanity isn't alone in this universe. Information needs to be collected and preserved for a day when...who knows."

Andrea was a steely and level-headed presence. Sarah wondered how anyone could ever accuse her of being crazy. Sarah wondered what Andrea's magical experiences had been...

Sarah realized the time. "Oh, I'm so sorry to run off, but I need to get to a dance class!" she said urgently.

"No worries, dear. I'm sure I'll see you soon." The Professor-like woman took Sarah's hand in her own soft, wrinkled one. "Be safe," she said, giving Sarah's hand a squeeze. Sarah smiled in reply.

On the subway to ballet, Sarah didn't notice the hunched "woman" with a face covered in fur and ears on top of her head instead of on either side; they were hidden under a cap. She walked right past the small "man" with scales instead of skin and the whites of his eyes colored red. But, they noticed her.

"That's one that knows," speculated a dwarf to goblin.

Sarah felt at ease that night. She trusted her fortifications. She closed her eyes and drifted peacefully to sleep.

Across the street, Jareth leaned against a tree. He had three crystals spinning in his left hand. His jaw was clenched as he angrily remembered the night before.

In owl form, he had flown especially swiftly that night, eager to visit his beloved. He alighted on the tree outside her window, landing so quickly he didn't notice his power draining. His left talon landed smartly on the head of an iron nail. He screeched and stepped in the opposite direction, his right talon scraping against another nail. Red blisters immediately formed; with all the iron around, he could barely breathe. He made a leap for the windowsill, but the amount of iron there repelled him. He couldn't fly and fell coughing to the ground. The present amount of iron wouldn't have disabled him so immediately in his Fae form, but it was relative to his size as an owl. He retched as air could finally make its way into his lungs. He was ill, his feet were in pain, and he was too weak to transfigure back. He had beat his wings feebly, trying to put some distance between that accursed house and himself. He made it three feet and had to stop, retching once more, bile dripping from his beak. He had lain there for hours before he could move again. He did not transform that night, he had simply teleported away, landing awkwardly in the castle kitchen still in owl form. The scullery maid had shrieked when he appeared in the basket of potatoes she had been peeling.

"Call for Atme. Call for the doctor, you fool," he had said in her mind.

It was not uncommon for him to come back injured; he would not tell them that these injuries were no great battle wounds. He would not explain that he had been careless, ignorant that this...this girl was clever.

So, this night, he would keep his distance. It would still be simple to get into her room; he only had to be careful. Still...

He gently blew on one of the crystals, and it floated as a bubble towards Sarah's window. Through the closed window it floated, over her bed it drifted, and onto her forehead it gently landed and popped.

Sarah was at the indoor pool with Delilah.

So she dreamt.

Sarah was in a lane second from the right. Delilah was in a lane second from the left. Each girl was one lane away from the pool's edge. They swam back and forth. Sarah had done a mile so far, and she knew Delilah had gone much further. Sarah loved swimming for exercise, but she much preferred to swim for fun. She stopped and exhaled, crossing her arms on her chest and allowing her body to sink. She lifted one and lowered the other, causing her body to spin in a tight circle. She made the opposite motion and twirled in the opposite direction. When she returned to the surface for air, she immediately dove back down and swam a ways like a mermaid, using only her legs to propel her body. As she broke the surface of the water, she called out to Delilah, "Hey, want to have a mermaid race?" she asked with glee.

Sarah looked around for Delilah and didn't see a single trace of her. She gasped and looked around the pool before ducking under the water and checking to make sure her friend wasn't drowning.

There was no sight of her, so Sarah figured she must be in the bathroom.

Sarah took a big breath and swam to touch the bottom of the pool. She loved practicing distance. She and Delilah used to throw stones and challenge each other to retrieve them. Sarah returned to the surface for air and ducked to do the same distance; the pool was only nine feet deep.

Sarah touched the bottom and looked back up at the surface.

Bubbles escaped her mouth as she let out an underwater scream; there was at least thirty feet between her and the surface.

She launched herself from the cement floor of the pool and pumped her arms and legs as fast as she could go.

She coughed and gasped when she broke the surface, her heart still racing in panic.

She looked around, confused. The normally fluorescent lights now cast an eerie green hue around the room. The water normally lapped the sides of the pool, but it was completely still.

Jareth's low laugh started quietly, echoing around the cavernous space. It grew in volume until it was almost painful in force.

Sarah swam for the edge of the pool, but a huge wave rose out of nowhere. It headed straight towards her.

Sarah could not swim out of its path, and it lifted her into the air, slamming her back down into the pool. Sarah tried to stay above the water and swam frantically in the other direction. The same thing occurred once again.

This time, when she hit the water, waves from every direction began to assault her. Water now began to make its way into her eyes and mouth. She coughed as droplets became caught in her windpipe.

"Enough!" she shrieked.

The pool was still again.

Jareth appeared next to the exit sign. He wore black leather pants that cut off at his calves. His shirt was the normal, medieval peasant-style he so often adorned. He walked slowly to the edge and tauntingly dipped a toe in.

"Water nightmares can be so terrifying, I find. Of what are you most afraid, Sarah...?"

Something bumped Sarah painfully from behind and she turned as fast as she could toward it.

She viewed a large, gray shape swimming past her, a shark's fin sticking out of the water. It turned towards her, Sarah shrieked and swam away from it, toward Jareth. She looked behind; it was gaining. She had no chance of out-swimming it, yet she swam frantically anyway. She looked again; it was going to get her. She screamed.

It disappeared.

"It's a bit too warm here, don't you think?" the Goblin King asked with biting sarcasm.

Sarah's next exhalation was a visible fog. A cracking sound echoed around the chamber as the water began to turn to ice, beginning first at the edges of the pool. It spread atop the viscous water towards her, reaching her first from behind. Sarah was shivering and her teeth were chattering uncontrollably. She rested her arms on the ice behind her as it pushed her through the water towards Jareth.

In one swift move, she flipped herself backward out of the water, rolling in a reverse somersault. She landed atop the ice crouched on her knees but quickly sprang up. Triumphant, she sprinted across the ice towards the edge of the pool. The pain of the cold almost crippled her. She felt as though she were running with needles sticking into her every pore.

Sarah dropped into the water as the ice was no more. She bobbed to the surface, thankful the water was a normal temperature.

"You bastard," she cried out, slapping the water and breathing heavily from exertion. He laughed more.

"You look fetching in your bikini, my love."

The water in the pool began to flow, pulling Sarah along; the pool was turning into a whirlpool. The water sucked her to the center and caused her to turn in a circle. Faster and faster it went. She tried to swim out of it, but she was getting sucked down lower as the eye of the maelstrom reached the bottom of the pool. She sat helplessly on the concrete as a storm of water churned around her.

In a roar, it came crashing down.

Sarah prepared herself with a large breath and attempted to vault herself toward the surface.

The water hit her forcefully and spun her around. She had jumped towards the surface of the pool, but different currents flowed every which way and she was completely disoriented. Which way was up?

Sarah made an executive decision, trying not to panic and waste her limited air, and swam.

Her forehead met concrete; she had swum downward.

Sarah couldn't see. White light filled her vision. All comprehension was lost.

Her instinct kicked in; that was down, the opposite is up. The moment ended and she was fighting for her life once more. Up she swam; her lungs felt as though they would explode. Her chest was on fire. Her vision became spotted...but she was so close to air...

She broke the surface and gulped in oxygen.

Jareth stared at her in wonder and amusement, smiling in pride. "Your strength is equal to a force of nature, pet. Very good..."

He sent the maelstrom once more.

Sarah once again tumbled and swam, and her body was growing tired. Her muscles were burning, she shook.

"So, this doesn't scare you," observed Jareth. "Your persistence protects you. Where is your fear...?"

Sarah didn't care about his storms. She would fight them. She would swim. She would always win. In her mind, running out of air was never an option; it was the only thing that protected her from losing all reason. After all, this was just a dream….

The water felt...thicker. Sarah was having trouble moving her arms and legs. The clear, blue tint of the liquid was becoming more opaque. Blue became...black.

The water was now pitch-black and almost as thick and sticky as pitch itself. Then, something touched her leg; Sarah kicked at the invisible form. Then something touched her thigh.

Dozens of Hands reached out of the water, reached towards her.

"We're helping hands…"

"Which way do you want to go…"

Except this time, they were not indifferent, and it seemed Sarah didn't have a choice whether she wanted to go up or down—and they wanted her to go down. One wrapped around her ankle and pulled her under. Sarah gave a sharp kick and clawed at the grasping hands around her as she broke the surface once more.

This was enough to horrify Sarah into flight. She tried to move herself towards the edge of the pool, but the tar-like substance was so thick. It was like she was swimming through tar, barely able to move.

Still the bodyless Hands pursued her. Some grabbing at her, some forming faces staring blankly.

Sarah headed towards dry land, blind with fear and panting. The earth-green fingertips now had nails and scratched her, and she broke whatever bones or roots or whatever these appendages had inside them she could, fighting as feebly as a fly in a spider's web.

The Hands were overpowering her—but, she was so close...

Something wrapped around Sarah's ankle and pulled her straight down. She was smothered, she was blinded. She kicked and hit something, causing her to be released. When she broke the surface again, it took moments to breathe as the thick liquid clogged her mouth and nose. Sarah was covered in the stuff. She was merely a black lump in this Dead Sea, barely appearing human. The taste and smell of tar encompassed Sarah. It was enough to almost make her give up...

Sarah was once more pulled straight down, blind, deaf, and mute. The weight of the pitch put pressure on her from every direction. But, when she opened her eyes, the scene changed; she was under clear, blue water once more.

Sarah began to float upward, relieved.

In horror, Sarah realized the entire pool gymnasium was filling with water, overflowing the pool itself.

It was only seconds before the entire cavern was filled. Sarah took one last breath before she had no more room; she spun towards the exit and swam.

"Saraaah..." she turned to see Jareth walking toward her, forty feet away. He walked through the water as if on an unseen platform, as if he were not submerged in water at all. His hair was spread out in every direction, its tendrils gently drifting.

Sarah was running out of air. Blood rushed to her head, roaring in her ears. Pressure built up in her throat.

She tried to continue towards the exit, but an unseen current kept her turned towards Jareth as he walked closer and closer.

"You time is up..." his voice said in her head.

Sarah couldn't hold her breath any longer. Water filled her mouth and was sucked into her lungs. She was filled with water, yet she did not wake and she did not die. She clutched her throat. She felt like she was being crushed.

Jareth opened his mouth and a stream of bubbles flowed out. They flowed straight to Sarah's mouth and she breathed air once more as a large pocket of air enveloped her mouth. Sarah felt her eyes crying, her tears unseen underwater.

"That's better, isn't it, precious? I can make this all stop..." Jareth said. He was closer now, only seven yards between them...

"Never! I know you won't really kill me!" shouted Sarah.

She took a deep breath and plunged her body backward, making a break for the exit.

The door was no longer there.

Sarah floated, submerged underwater, completely helpless.

She turned back to Jareth. He was less than ten feet away, walking lazily as if strolling through a park. Sarah was running out of air once more. Her throat burned.

"Only I can save you, Sarah," he said, as yet again she was filled with water. She clawed at the water around here, grasping senselessly for relief, but she was too heavy to move anywhere. She was sinking with the unbearable pressure crushing her.

The Goblin King reached for her.

As his hand cradled her face, she shut her eyes.

She didn't know what to do, but she quieted her frantic thoughts.

She blew out. She expelled the water from her body. This hurt just as much as inhaling the water. In an act of defiance, she grabbed Jareth's face, squeezing his cheeks so his lips parted.

She had no clue if this would work, but she inhaled.

A stream of bubbles was sucked from the king's mouth. His eyes widened in surprise as the air in his lungs was replaced with water. He drew his hand from her face, but Sarah tightened her grip, her nails digging into his skin. She exhaled, relieved as her body took its first full breath in what felt like hours. She inhaled again, drawing the breath from his lungs; Jareth grabbed his throat, unable to breathe. There was fear in his eyes.

"Enough!" his voice roared in her mind.

With that, Sarah woke up.

She was too weak to sit up. She turned onto her right side and coughed. Water spurted out of her mouth, soaking her pillow.

Sarah was too traumatized to cry. Sarah looked at her hands and realized there was dark green, mossy skin under her fingernails, left over from her swim in that pool of nightmares. She was at a loss of words, a loss of action, unable to celebrate the feat of strength she had just enacted against Jareth.

"Bad dream," said Sarah out loud to herself, unable to close her eyes. She had won again, but she was still afraid. She held her stuffed teddy bear as tight as she could, happy she had reinstated some of her beloved stuffed animals.

Across the street, the Goblin King was coughing up water. He rubbed his throat and wiped away the droplets of blood trickling out of nail-shaped digs in his cheeks. His mind went numb; Sarah had turned her own fear on him.

In silence, his respect for her grew. His mind was blank. He didn't know what to think...

He transported himself back to his throne room and sat in silence, staring aimlessly into a void.