The Goblin King's Daughter
By: DemonSaya
Chapter One
Sarah Williams parked the car in front of the school, glancing out through the rain streaked window. Through the driving rain she could see a form huddled under the overhang, trying to stay dry. She smiled softly, opening the car door and walking out, ignoring the icy pelt of the rain.
As soon as she closed the car door, a head that still didn't quite fit the gangly child's body lifted, revealing features that were both a source of love and pain for Sarah. She would have to be blind to not know that when her daughter grew into that face and when the body filled out with the curves it was starting to have, Erin Williams was going to be the most lovely girl in school.
Unfortunately, so did all of the young girl's schoolmates, and her heart broke as her eyes set upon the dark bruise under her daughter's eye. Sarah sighed, moving towards the girl and opening an umbrella to keep the girl dry. "Another fight?"
Erin's eyes, large and filled with knowledge that no girl her tender age of twelve should have. "You know it was already," the girl answered back, stepping under the umbrella, ignoring her mother's apparent concern, as the hem of her long coat grew wet from where it drug on the ground.
Sarah was quiet as she observed her daughter, quiet as she watched the way her daughter favored her right shoulder and left knee as they moved. Once they were in the warm safety of the car, she finally spoke again. "How bad is it?" She faced her daughter, looking over the girl, her hands patting her hair, searching for bumps and other bruises.
Erin – independent, stubborn Erin – thrust out her chin, tilting her head to the side, a look of familiar defiance covering her face. "You should see the other girl."
She couldn't help it, a snort of laughter left her, an indelicate sound, and it caused herself and her daughter to begin chortling harder. She turned again, focusing on the child, at the splash of freckles that went across the nose that had the same slope her own had at that age. It had been around then that her father had remarried Karen, and only a short time later when the woman had become pregnant with Toby.
Toby.
Sarah grew faintly serious, her laughter dying. It really was with that boy that everything had begun, even if her own actions had caused everything to end. Well, perhaps not everything. She cast a look towards her daughter and smiled, ruffling the girl's hair. "Come on, rugrat. Let's get you home so we can put something on that eye."
She pulled onto the street, starting the drive home, her eyes continually drawn to her daughter.
Something about her had always been eye-catching, from the time she'd first set eyes on the girl. She'd come out with a full head of hair, eyes part-way open as though speculating about the world she'd just been brought into. Alex Fletcher, her husband at the time, had taken one look at the beautiful child and then walked out of the room.
The next time she saw him was when she returned home and found that he'd cleaned out the apartment of everything except a note and a bundle of papers that she found were for a divorce. He took everything he could in the divorce, with the exception of Erin and the pile of hospital bills that he refused to pay, since Erin was 'obviously not his daughter'.
So many people speak of how marriages rarely survive the first year these days, but she hadn't expected hers to end in failure. Suddenly, she was a single mother who only had acting on her resume, and no job prospects whatsoever. In the years that followed, she lived in her father's home, going to school full time, while working her ass off at two full time jobs to pay off her bills, wishing desperately that she'd taken her parents advice and graduated from college before she'd gotten married to the bastard who had hamstrung her.
Granted, Alex had been thrilled with the prospect of being a father. What had infuriated him was the coloring of the child. Blond hair that brightened to nearly white at the tips, eyes that even at birth showed signs of being light in color. If she'd been born with Sarah's own hair, the eyes might have not been an issue. After all, her own eyes were green and her father's had been blue. However, everyone on the other side of the family showed darker coloring. Everyone on his side of the family had come in and called her whore to her face before leaving with a flouncing indignity that would have caused Sarah to laugh if she wasn't watching her carefully constructed world fall apart around her.
As a result, on Erin's birth certificate, there's no father listed. It helped that Sarah had a sneaking suspicion that she knew who the father was, and couldn't for all the money in the world figure out how she'd gotten pregnant from a man she'd not seen in almost seven years. The suspicion only grew as her daughter's eyes settled into the final colors of blue and green.
Since then, Alex had come to her, seeming to want to reconcile their differences, bringing gifts and such, especially in more recent years. However, whenever they spoke the topic always turned towards his firm belief that she'd cheated on him during their engagement or shortly after the wedding. She couldn't deny that Alex wasn't the father and make it believable, so she didn't. Every time he set eyes on Erin, he grew angry about the child's existence, and as a result, Sarah knew that they would never really get back together.
Sarah never called upon the real father, never told him that somehow they'd managed to create a miracle. Then again, she'd not seen nor heard from him in thirteen years, since that one night before her wedding. Since the night where he'd explained that once her marriage was consummated those who had been permanent fixtures in her life would be gone forever.
It had been a dream, of course. That was the only way he'd come to her after she'd reclaimed Toby. After the party had worn down and she'd collapsed in her bed, she'd had what at first she'd thought to only be a dream. In that dream, she met the Goblin King in the broken remains of the crystal ballroom, and she'd seen the face of a man who had been carelessly tossed aside. He looked bitter, pained.
Then his eyes had fallen upon her and there was shock and anger. They'd fought, argued so fiercely that she'd been astonished that two people could be so furious with each other in a dream. In the end, she'd found herself backed against one of the pillars, and his heat had pierced her clothing. However, he did not touch her.
He'd asked her point blank why she was there, and she'd blinked, confused. Her innocent answer was that she needed him, too. All of them had meant just that. She needed all of them, including her adversary. His face had changed then. From bitter and angry to filled with a wonder that she'd never seen on the face of an adult. He looked as if she'd just handed him the world.
After that, she always found him in her dreams. Sometimes he didn't join her, but he was always there. So began the strangest courtship she'd ever likely experience; an affection so strong that it pierced the veil between their worlds, and allowed them to meet in her – or perhaps their – dreams. However, once she was married, once she had sex with her husband and took that final step towards becoming an adult, the dreams stopped.
Just like he'd said they would.
"You're thinking about him again," Erin said softly.
Sarah blinked, glancing towards her daughter before returning her gaze to the road. "What, Erin?"
Those mismatched eyes turned towards her and Sarah swallowed hard. Those eyes always saw more than Sarah really wanted. So much like his eyes...
"You're thinking about him again. My real father."
Sarah flinched slightly. There was no way to deny it without directly lying to the child, and she hated lying to her daughter. "Yes," she finally said softly. "Sorry."
Erin was quiet for a long moment. "I'm getting hungry," she said, letting Sarah know that the girl wasn't going to pursue the topic. She'd never pursued the topic. It was like she was waiting for Sarah to be ready to tell her. Or she knew something that she wasn't saying.
She nodded, smiling at her daughter. "What do you want?"
Erin smiled back, and Sarah couldn't help but notice that the dark bruise that had blackened her daughter's eye had faded to a lightening purple.
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
They'd stopped at the local Chinese food restaurant for their snack, sharing a plate of fried rice. As regulars, it was set between them with hot tea before they'd ever placed their order. Erin sat there, one leg pulled up to her chest, twirling the chopsticks in one hand. "Can we buy some cakes or something?"
"We'll get donuts before we leave. Is that alright?"
Her daughter hummed an agreement, looking rather bored. Finally, Sarah wiped her mouth and leaned back, fixing her daughter with a calm look. "So, what was it this time?"
Her daughter's unusual brows became a v on her forehead, showing her upset. The bruise had faded further at this point, barely yellow. It should have taken almost a week for it to fade so much, but it had taken scant hours. "They called you a whore," she said softly, her voice dark, angry.
Sarah closed her eyes, sighing softly. She'd thought so. Her daughter was already quick to anger, and throwing that word at the woman who'd raised her was the fastest way to feel the sharp side of the girl's temper. She reached over, setting a hand gently on her daughters. She searched those turbulent eyes for a long moment and finally smiled. "Let them think what they want."
"I can't stand hearing them say something like that about you..." she whispered, putting her face on the table. "I try to get along with the others, it's just impossible...I'm different."
Those words sent a tiny ring of fear scrambling up her spine. She shook it off and squeezed the girl's hand. "I never got along well with my peers either. I only call a few people friend, and most of them have disappeared among the pages of my life," she lowered her face, not letting her daughter see the pain on it.
"Like my real father?"
Her head jerked up and she saw a speculative look on the girl's face. A shudder worked through her and she swallowed hard. "Erin, I haven't seen your birth father in a very long time. Since the night before I married Alex." She sighed softly, running a hand through her dark hair. "Our story is very complicated, and he wasn't very happy when he found out about the wedding. He told me it would be the last time I'd see him."
Erin sighed, lowering her head. "I guess he never knew about me, then..."
"No," Sarah agreed sadly. "He never knew..."
The girl grew upset, stiff almost, and Sarah wanted to comfort her, but there was nothing she could say. Sarah stroked the hand on the table gently and then stood, smiling at her daughter. "Let's go get those donuts."
They rode home, eating their donuts, Erin consuming them with a vigor that made Sarah smile slightly. As they pulled into the driveway, Sarah found another car there and discomfort gripped her heart roughly. She gestured for Erin to remain within as she got out, looking at the man who stood on her front porch.
His dark hair was brushed carefully, he was dressed carefully, and the smile on his face was as fake as everything else about the man. Her hands clenched tightly into fists as she looked at the man she'd not seen in many years. "Alex," she said, her reception cool. She moved around the car, shouldering her purse and taking her daughter's back pack from the trunk.
"Sarah, darling, how have you been-"
"I've been fine, and if you call me darling again I'll rip your tongue out of your mouth." She said it calmly, as if they were doing nothing more than discussing the weather. She opened her door for her daughter, holding the girl as far away from Alex as she could. He approached the girl, and her daughter did something that startled her as well as the man on the porch.
She snarled.
It was a rage-filled sound, not welcoming in the slightest, holding nothing but hostility and hate. That sound from her daughter's throat sounded inhuman. Sarah swallowed and gave her daughter a squeeze. "Go on inside, sweetheart, I'll be in shortly."
"You don't have to waste a second on him, Mom," Erin said coldly.
"Erin, please."
Mismatched eyes lifted to her face, searching it and after a tense moment, the girl nodded, taking her bag and disappearing into the house. Once she was gone, Sarah relaxed a bit. She sighed softly, shaking her head. "Alex, I have work I need to do before bed tonight. If you want to talk again, call first, so that I don't have to deal with seeing you at my place. There are no memories of you here, and I don't want any-"
His hands slammed on either side of the door, trapping her against it. "You're making a mistake, Sarah. I want to try again, I want to be with you again. I'll even take care of Erin-"
She lifted her face and said calmly. "Too little, too late. You had an opportunity to love Erin twelve years ago, and opportunity to love me. A chance to share in my success. You've had twelve years and multiple opportunities to attempt an apology, and yet you show up on my door now, after I've made a name for myself, expecting to be welcomed with open arms. I'm not that hard up for a romantic relationship, Alex. I've got someone who needs my love, and she's got everything I can give." She turned to go into her home, and Alex put a painful grip on her wrist.
"What makes you think that this is your decision-"
She reached down, curling her free hand around his privates and squeezing until he started to pale. She leaned close to his ear and spoke softly. "I am not the naïve little girl you hurt all that time ago. I've grown up, and I don't have any time to spare for bastards like you. Now get off my property before I call the police..."
She released him, watching as he staggered down the porch, looking furious. Sarah watched until his car disappeared down the road before she went inside.
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
Sarah jerked upright in her bed, her breathing ragged, covered in a thin layer with sweat. Gooseflesh rose on her arms from the chill produced by the dampness. Her pajamas were soaked, and her hair stuck to her skin. A shudder worked through her and she glanced at her hands finding them shaking. To give her something to do with them, she chaffed her arms to warm them.
She wasn't entirely certain what might have pulled her from the depths of her sleep. It might have been nothing more than a bad dream; however there was a strange sense of foreboding that seemed to suffocate her. She swallowed hard, shaking her head.
She was being ridiculous. That sense of foreboding probably had more to do with the fact that she'd just heard from her ex-husband for the first time since the divorce had been final. She wasn't surprised by it. Shortly after he left with his tail between his legs, she'd called her brother to find out that he man's job at the oil company had failed, and he was hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt with no job to pay for it. She would have seemed a perfect target, as her birth mother was a wealthy actress, her father was a wealthy lawyer, and she'd recently gotten a quite good job as chief editor at a publishing house- a job which meant that she could stay home for Erin.
Speaking of which, Erin had turned strange after Alex, had shown up at their doorway. No, strange wasn't the right way to put it. She'd gotten cold, had spoken less than a handful of words before retreating into the house. The rest of the evening, Erin had been quiet, almost hostile.
Sarah certainly couldn't blame the girl for her cool reception. When she'd realized who was standing on her doorstep wearing a warm smile, she'd come very close to punching him in the face. She hated the man who had thrown her away like used tissue, simply because the daughter didn't look like him. Alex, after all, had dark hair and brown eyes. Sarah's hair had darkened to the color of ebony as she grew older, and more recently had started to show an alarming trend of white at her temples. However, her Erin had hair the color of honey at the roots, and faded to something closer to platinum at the tips. Always, her hair had faded like that, even when cut.
Sarah pushed those thoughts away; the feeling that was crushing her didn't seem so simple as to be related to earthly emotions. Another shudder ripped through her as she finally slipped out of the bed, stuffing her feet in the warm, slippers – kitty slippers, a gift from Erin from that Christmas – that were waiting. She rose out of the bed, pulling down a worn terrycloth bathrobe and wrapping it around herself for extra warmth.
Dread was settling into her stomach as she left the room and began moving down the hall. The nightlight lit the hall with an eerie blue light. The house wasn't large, but that hallway seemed to stretch on forever for some reason. The farther she moved, the stronger the sensation became.
Needless to say, as unnerved as she was, it came as a great relief when she finally reached her daughter's room.
She opened the door to the room and stepped inside, finding the room sweltering. Her daughter's face was dotted with sweat and she sighed, cracking the window to let some of the cool night air in. Taking a moment, she glanced around the room, finding a faint smile turning up her lips.
Erin had been the person in charge of decorating this room, and much as her own had been as a youth, it was covered with a smattering of hodge podge which caused most adults to go crazy, however it may have comforted her. However, Sarah wasn't like her own parents, and she understood her whimsical and temperamental child far better than others. The colors were not pastel pink, they were shades of orange and purple and bright green which would set nearly anyone on edge, however Erin said that they made her comfortable and that was more important to Sarah than how fashionable her child's room might be.
Finally, she moved over and sat beside her daughter on the edge of the bed, staring down at the child who was both a blessing and a curse. That honey colored hair that seemed to lighten towards the tips hung around the child's face wildly, some strands sticking to her damp skin. Chocolate brows that arched up the youth's forehead enough to remind Sarah of the man she suspected to be the father. Freckles dotted young cheeks, and Sarah reached down, lightly smoothing her daughter's soft hair back.
She was fine. Sarah smiled faintly, blowing out a sigh of relief.
She sat there, looking down at her daughter for a long time, simply stroking her child's hair. Still, that feeling of fear and dread still rubbed against her and finally she stood, moving towards the door, giving her daughter one final glance before she closed the door behind her and went to check the rest of the house.
She checked the lock on the front door first, and then the back. Both were locked. All the windows were sealed against intrusion. Her security system was still active. She walked into the kitchen, trying to shake off the unease.
Since the night of her wedding the fairy realm had stayed well enough out of her life. No matter how she called, she could never contact her friends from the Underground. The only she'd never tried to call was Jareth, too afraid of his reaction to seeing her again. She wasn't certain she could stand seeing hate on his face. In fact, the last time she'd seen any of them was thirteen years ago, this very evening, when Jareth had given his warning.
What bothered her most was that the feeling she had now reminded her of that moment when Toby's cries stopped eighteen years ago. The night she'd run the Labyrinth, the night she'd met him...
Her hands trembled at the memory. Ruthlessly, she pushed the memory away, shaking her head and reminding herself that The Goblin King couldn't be coming for her daughter now. If he'd been interested or even known about her existence, he would have come back then, not now.
She shook the thought from her head, before the tears started. They always did when she thought about that time. He had warned her the night before her wedding that once she took that step she would have officially left her childhood behind her. After that, her friends wouldn't be able to reach her. They wouldn't hear her call.
She pulled a glass out of the cabinet over the sink and poured herself some water. She took a long drink from the glass and left it on the counter. She would check her daughter one more time and only then go back to bed. It would prove that she had nothing to worry about, and perhaps she'd be able to get some sleep.
However, as her foot hit the bottom step, the unease condensed into fear and she began moving quickly up the stairs, her breaths growing ragged with each step. Her heart told her that there was danger in her house, that something was coming. She only hoped that she wasn't too late.
She pushed the door to her daughter's room open and stepped within. The sheer curtains blew in the breeze, and it took her a moment to notice that the window was open much wider than the crack she'd originally allowed.
On the ledge perched a raven, looking at her through glowing, gold eyes. She moved slowly towards the bed, and glanced towards her daughter. When her eyes returned to the bird, it was gone. In its place was a young man with black hair and golden eyes. His skin was sun-kissed bronze, and he seemed more boy than man, caught at the brink of adolescence. Black smoke seemed to surround him before it faded. He was dressed all in black, from his cloak to his boots, to his gloved hands.
One of the fair folk, she realized.
Fear became panic and Sarah felt her throat close. "No," she whispered, unable to speak louder. She moved to grab her child, but her body froze, and she couldn't move. She tried, she tried hard, but her body was stuck. She couldn't move a muscle, nor use her voice. Tears filled her eyes at the seeming hopelessness of the situation.
The creature moved towards her, resting a hand upon her shoulder. A shudder worked through her as those fingers squeezed slightly. The touch was surprisingly gentle, like someone seeking to calm a frightened animal. It made her wonder what he viewed her as. The voice that met her ears was faintly accented, quiet.
"It's nothing personal," the teen said. "However she is necessary for our plans, so I shall take her." That hand squeezed faintly. "It would be best if you forget what happened here tonight."
She could do nothing except watch as her daughter was lifted out of her bed and the young man walked towards the window. She wanted to rage, to scream out her fury. No one takes her daughter to the fairy realms. The spell which held her captive seemed to evaporate and she moved instantly, running towards where the threat stood. With her ability to move came her voice. She didn't bother restraining the cry that left her. "ERIN!"
The child woke instantly at the sound and volume of her voice and shifted, looking over her captor's shoulder. "Mom? MOM!" Her struggles must have taken the fae by surprise, because he gasped softly. Then, he tightened his grip on her, and suddenly black mist was swallowing them. As they disappeared, she got the faintest impression of black wings, and a few feathers fell to the bedroom floor.
Tears fell down her face and she trembled in shock as her knees gave and she fell to the floor, right where her daughter had vanished. Those black feathers rested right in front of her. Her hands curled into fists and she struck the floor furious, a scream of pain and frustration leaving her lips.
A moment later the rage within her turned cold. She rose from the floor slowly, bringing those feathers with her. Her steps were measured as she returned to her bedroom and she walked to her closet, pulling down a padded leather jerkin that was a throwback from her acting days. A poets' shirt followed, dug from the depths, as well as a pair of leather trousers.
She stripped from her pajamas, then dressed carefully, ran a brush through her hair until the mass of dark strands shone. She pulled them up and away from her face, fashioning a messy ponytail that more hair hung out of than stayed contained.
Digging in her closet some more, she found her amber pin, as well as a pair of sturdy riding boots. The riding boots went on first, followed by the pin. A quick rummage through her drawer and she found her little red book with its gold letters. She swallowed hard, tucking it into the jerkin, and then pulled a tiny ring from her trinket box.
She glanced into the mirror, deciding that she was as good as ready. She had her game face on, and she was dressed for battle. Thirteen years to the night since she'd last heard his voice, and even that wasn't actually real. She wasn't certain she could handle this.
She was, however, certain that she didn't have any other options.
Finally, taking an unsteady breath, she spoke, "Jareth, I need you."
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
Erin Williams only had a moment to feel shocked as her room gave way to soft forest, but she couldn't say that it lasted very long. After all, she was the daughter of Sarah Williams, a woman who practically breathed magic into stories. It would have been difficult to not believe in the worlds that her mother had sometimes told her of. Besides that, she was a little too worried about what had happened to her mother to be shocked for long
Most pressing at the moment, however, was that Erin was the woman's daughter and wasn't about to take being made a damsel in distress sitting still.
A well placed heel caught her captor in an area that always hurt, and he released her with an obscenely creative curse. She hit the ground, rolled to her feet and was sprinting through the forest as fast as her bare feet would take her – hopefully before the idiot knew what had hit him. She was suddenly deeply grateful for her mother playing hide and seek in the forest near their home, because the result was that she could move surprisingly fast over uneven terrain. She hooked trunks, changing direction as quick as a thought, jumping over high roots and dodging under low hanging limbs.
Unfortunately, she was on foot.
Her captor apparently didn't to have to worry about that little handicap.
She'd just rounded another tree when a large bird dived into her path and before it hit the ground it was replaced with a furious man. Two arms snatched around her waist and she let out an indignant shriek. She struggled, again trying to kick the man between his legs, but he seemed aware of this game now.
"Knock it off, or I'll be forced to use a sleeping spell on you until we reach our destination!"
She leaned down just enough to get her teeth on his arm and bit down as hard as she could. She had to commend him for not dropping her. As it is, he swore with severe precision, threatening her in several ways that only made her clamp down harder with her teeth. However, he still didn't release her. She finally resigned herself to the fact that she was caught – for now at least – and wasn't getting away. Yet.
She released his arm, and after a tense moment, he set her feet on the ground. His hand wrapped into her hair and he forced her forward, using that part of her to keep grip as well as vital parts of himself out of her reach. Tears pierced her eyes at the pain, but she refused to whimper or cry out. She was the daughter of Sarah Williams. And this idiot had no idea what that meant. She forced her back straight, her hands curled into tight fists.
"I suppose I should have expected the daughter of the Goblin King to be a pain in the ass," came a mutter from behind her.
She frowned faintly, arching a brow. The Goblin King? Her lips pursed and she inclined her head, then dismissed the information. She'd suspected for years that her mother's tale of the Goblin King was more than just a story, especially since the woman had always gotten a sad, distant expression on her face whenever she told it.
The rest of the words registered and a niggling of joy she wasn't sure she really wanted to admit just yet surged. She'd always hoped that Alex Fletcher wasn't her father. He'd never liked her, and as a result, she'd never liked him. The only memory she had of the man was when she'd pulled out her mother's wedding album to ask who the stuffy man in the picture was. Her mother had told her calmly, and her mother wasn't stingy on details. It was like the first time she'd read the story 'Deerskin', the horror and upset was a very real thing, even if it was nothing more than a story.
Still, daughter of a king? Wouldn't that be a bug in everyone's backside? She didn't bother hiding the faint grin at that little piece of knowledge. She idly wondered why her mother hadn't told her this little story before.
Obviously, her captor saw the upturned lips and it made him nervous, because he suddenly gripped her around her waist and lifted her onto a fallen tree trunk that was nearly chest high on him. It wrung a gasp from her, because she wasn't used to being around someone that strong. He'd lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all.
The move put her well above him, and he put a hand on either side of her, looking at her, his gold eyes intense. Finally, she allowed herself to examine her captor's face for the first time since he'd kidnapped her; smooth, softly-tanned skin, black hair that hung wildly around his head in uneven layers, golden eyes that seemed to be trying to look into her soul. He was glaring at her, trying to intimidate her, trying to frighten her. "What exactly do you find so amusing about your situation? You're my prisoner, my hostage, and therefore you're completely at my mercy."
She inclined her head, suddenly curious.
He continued his intimidation tactic as she silently observed him. All of her mother's stories had stated that even the fae that looked beautiful and young were usually quite old, sometimes by centuries. They were calculating, tricky, and very intelligent. This one did not seem any of those things to her, not here, not now. In fact, she couldn't help but get the impression that he wasn't old at all. His attempts to scare her were shockingly feeble. He seemed strangely young to her, and she had a hunch that if you measured his maturity against a mortals, he would be little more than an adolescent.
The man must have become unnerved by the scrutiny, because he swore, pacing away from her, walking back and forth for several long moments. She set her hands on either side of herself feeling soft moss growing on the rough trunk. She watched him pace through wide, innocent eyes, swinging her legs back and forth.
After a moment, she spoke, her voice filled with amusement. "You don't want to do this," she said with confidence. She didn't bother hiding her faintly snarky grin when he whirled on her, his gaze filled with hostility.
"And why not? You're the key to bringing down the Goblin King. I can just see Jareth squirming in his over-polished boots. His precious daughter whisked off by the Unseelie, whatever shall he do?" He stalked towards her, setting his hands on either side of where she sat. "Exactly why wouldn't I want to do this?"
She leaned towards him, not looking away from his eyes, which were made dark from anger. She wasn't intimidated by him in the slightest. Why should she be? "You really have no idea who I am, do you?"
"I believe I just mentioned I did. You're the daughter of the Goblin King."
She shook her head. "I wasn't referring to my paternal line. I've never even met the Goblin King." She leaned closer, so that she forced him to look up to hold her gaze and pointed a finger into his collarbone. "You don't know who my mother is. You've no idea who you've just brought down upon you." At his expression of confused interest, she gave a faint smirk. "My full name is Erin Marie Williams, and long before you told me that my father was the Goblin King, I was raised in the Above by the champion of the Labyrinth." There was a flicker of surprise in that gold gaze – surprise mixed with slight fear. "Sarah Williams is my mother, you idiot. And she's going to tear the Underground apart to find me, and when she does, you're going to learn just how cruel she can really be..."
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
AN: A little something to keep everyone hanging on. Now is when the story really gets started, and it's going to be a long and bumpy ride ^.-
A note as well: Ages ago, I drew a picture called Blackbird, that had no story to go with it, but it inspired my beta well enough that she sent me an e-mail with an idea. This story is the result. She is also working with me to edit and improve on the story as we go. So, while you thank me, also thank her.