The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Two

Jareth stood in his bedroom, staring out at his moonlit kingdom. It was a cold, lonely night, as every night for the past thirteen years had been. He'd warned her what would happen, had hoped that the warning would convince her to cast aside the mortal she'd decided to wed.

In the time that Sarah Williams had been in his life, he'd learned all different forms of adjectives to describe living. Unfortunately, those two – cold and lonely – were the two that he used the most frequently.

Even with a kingdom full of rowdy, miscreant goblins, somehow, he felt alone. He detested that word, detested that even after repeated attempts to forget her, he could not. Front and center of his dreams was the girl who had caused him equal parts frustration and warmth even after so long. Remembering her smile, remembering her laughter – even if they were the ones inside her dreams, for she'd never given him that warmth in the flesh – caused joy and sadness.

He was exhausted this evening, yet somehow he could not sleep. He did not know why, he simply felt a strange anxiety rubbing at his nerves, like something was about to happen or had happened that he needed to take note of. He smiled morbidly. Perhaps Sarah had finally forgotten him and that was what was being brought to his attention.

The dark smile slid off his face and he sighed, shaking his head and lifting his face to look up at the full moon, wondering faintly if it was the same moon which Sarah looked upon. He couldn't possibly know.

He didn't even know if she even thought about him any longer.

His morose mood grew darker and he wondered if the sweet release of death would free him from this cursed memory. He shook the thought off, reminding himself that he had his responsibilities in this realm, and while taking a header off the balcony might seem like a great idea now, the weeks he'd spend recovering from such a fall were enough to convince him that it wasn't a wise one.

His eyes turned to the horizon, frowning deeply. "What is my instinct trying to tell me," he mused aloud, setting his palms flat and leaning out over his kingdom, as if hoping it would be able to tell him.

Not even a second had passed when it felt like insects had skittered up his back and he shuddered, straightening. A summons, then. How long had it been...better to not think about that, he decided, going into his room and deciding to take his time. He changed into his most intimidating armor, hoping to frighten the measly pest of a human into just handing whomever was wished away-

He stopped. No wishing away, he realized, staring towards the horizon again. He called in a crystal and peered into it, almost dropping it in mute shock. Without another thought, he vanished from where he stood and appeared in the bedroom of Sarah Williams, silently standing behind her, unable to believe – or perhaps too afraid to believe – that this was real.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

She didn't really expect anything to happen. After all, thirteen years with no word from him rather had a way of disillusioning one. As the moments ticked by without anything, she began to sag in on herself. No lightening crashing, no windows bursting open with a flash of wings and a splash of glitter. Nothing.

Except she could feel a hand on her slumped shoulder. She went rigid and turned abruptly finding mismatched eyes looking down at her from beneath exotic, dark brows. Those eyes were wide, filled with surprise and wonder. Her breath rushed out of her, and her eyes wandered over his face.

She would almost call his face haggard, deep lines cutting into his face, frown lines between his brows. Yet, as each second passed, he seemed to be recovering his youthful appearance more and more. His hair was still wild, standing up in every direction. He was dressed in that same armor she remembered from her parents' bedroom. The hand on her shoulder slid up, cupped her face. The leather was warm against her skin. "Sarah," he breathed, and it was like he was worshiping the sound.

She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Her throat was too clogged with emotions. His hands tightened their grip on her and she was pulled against his chest. A rough laugh escaped him and she felt his face against her neck. Her body jumped to attention at the contact. "I'd thought...but that doesn't matter, I'm here now," he murmured against her skin, the feeling of his lips brushing over her neck with each word causing the hairs on her arms to rise.

She shuddered, putting him away from her a bit. "Jareth, this isn't the time-"

His lips worked up her neck, each kiss sending electric shocks through her body. It officially killed her ability to speak. He continued to move, brushing against her ear lobe, her jaw, her cheek, until they finally found her own, silencing any other words that had been on the verge of leaving her. His arms pulled her close, hands flattening against her back. This was familiar to her mind, yet horribly foreign to her body. It didn't stop her from responding. Her hands slid to his chest, gripping the soft silk of his starlit hair.

Six years of dreams, followed by thirteen years of absence. Dreams where he held her and kissed her just like this, the last of which they had let the rampant emotions they felt continue through completion.

Even now, he tasted as he had in those dreams. Like spices and magic and something that she could only call Jareth. She let him part her lips, forgetting everything else for just a moment. Then, when it was almost physically painful to continue kissing him, she broke away, squeezing her eyes shut. "Jareth, you need to stop." Her hands were fists in the velvet sleeves of his shirt, pushing at him gently.

He withdrew, his eyes suddenly confused. Then, they darkened like the sky preparing for a summer storm. The warm man who was grateful to see her had given way to the cool, intimidating Goblin King. He paced away from her and she watched as his armor grew more ominous, and a cape seemed to form out of air. As he continued pacing his hair streaked with an angry dark red. When he turned towards her, he looked as she could never remember seeing him before. He was beyond angry, he was furious. "You called upon the Goblin King."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement and the words were clipped. Well, that was just fine. She could be angry, too. "Trust me, if there'd been any other choice, I wouldn't have," she snapped at him, pacing away and dragging a hand through her hair. "My daughter's missing."

Surprise on his face. "I fail to comprehend the question." His voice was cold, sterile. He stalked towards her. "I have not received any wished away children in more than a year. And if anyone wished away your daughter, I would have recognized a child that was yours." His eyes ran – almost violating – from her head to her toes and back again. It felt like a just-as-violating caress had followed that gaze.

She flushed, obstinately refusing to be intimidated, she stepped towards him. "Not long ago, she was kidnapped. I know the one who took her is one of the fae."

"Why would the fae have any interest in a human child that wasn't wished into their keeping?" Jareth looked completely disinterested in the whole thing.

She ought to tell him, however she didn't figure he'd earned the right to know her suspicion. So she withheld the answer. "How the hell should I know? Do you think he was telling his nefarious plans for my daughter while he took her?" His answer was a snarl of rage. "Stop being such a pissy ass hole!"

He turned towards her, leaning intimidating over her. "I think I have the right to be pissy, you irritating little mortal. For thirteen years I waited for you to tire of that human who you saw fit to marry. I waited until you would need me enough to call upon me." He paced away from her but not before she saw the pain mixed with fury. "I thought you had forgotten about me in your wedded bliss." He whirled back, refusing to look at her. "And when you finally call me, it's for your precious child, not for me."

She swallowed her own bitter pill, looking up at him. She hadn't known that. "I've been divorced for twelve years, Jareth," she said quietly. "And you shouldn't blame me for needing some sort of relationship in this world. I could never see you here, and..." Her own face twisted in pain. It wasn't fair to bring this up, wasn't fair to either of them. "Six years of dreams, nothing more than that. You didn't offer me much."

"I couldn't!" He glared at her in fury. "Don't you think I wanted to? However you..." he snarled, beginning to pace once again. He stopped, half the length of the room away from her and pointed at her chest, his face accusing. "You said the words that shut me out of your life, yet you dare to lash out at me for not being at your side?" He dropped his arm, his eyes boring into hers, and his voice suddenly lacked fire, lacked emotion. It was completely cold. "Damn you, Sarah."

A shudder worked through her, and she felt tears well in her eyes. She had to leave this topic before they both inflicted more wounds upon each other. "I don't know why they took her," she finally whispered. "He seemed...young. Your kind usually looks young, but he seemed like an adolescent on the verge of becoming a man. Black hair, golden eyes. I think his other form was a raven..." She saw dread on his face and met his gaze. "Jareth, what is going on?"

"Sarah, my dear fool, what did you do to catch their attention?" He drug a hand through his hair and sat on the edge of her bed. He rested his head in one hand. "There are several races of fair folk, Sarah. Most of them are classified as Seelie or Unseelie. The classes usually leave each other well enough alone, however, they do fight amongst themselves." He ran a hand through his hair. "As you may have guessed, I'm a member of the Unseelie courts. It comes as a result of my subjects. All fae are notorious for kidnapping human children, sometimes leaving one of ours in its place until it's time for them to come home, still, I'm Unseelie because I play with and manipulate the humans foolish enough to call upon me."

Sarah saw the dim amusement on his face and arched a brow. "You thought me a fool?"

His eyes lifted to hers and there was something else in them. "You were naive, but no, I wouldn't call you a fool." He paused, sighing softly. "The one you described comes from a court which has been trying to cause unrest in my kingdom for quite some time. His line is failing, and his father believes that taking my throne by force would revive it. They live, by grace of the Troll King, in a kingdom which neighbors mine."

She remembered the boy's words, how Erin was necessary for his people's plans. She paced a bit, collecting her thoughts. She turned towards him after a long moment and she swallowed, not sure how to explain the whole thing. "They took Erin to get to you?"

He gave a half-smile. "I'm sure they did not intend to get her. More likely you were their aim. However, time is a fluid thing between the above and Underground. Those who don't have intimate contact with it as I do, often do not realize how fast time passes here. Also, immortals who do not deal often with mortals cannot understand their aging process."

She wasn't so certain.

She swallowed hard, and lifted her gaze. "Regardless of their aim, I have to get her back. Please understand that...she's all I have." He wasn't looking at her, his face turned away. She lifted a hand, touching his arm lightly. "Please, Jareth. I need your help."

His gaze returned to her and there was something else there. Almost pain. "If that is your wish, Precious."

The endearment caused tears to pierce her eyes and she turned away from him for a moment in order to collect herself. It was actually physically painful to hear him call her that after how long they'd been apart. During that magical six years, that little pet name was spoken more than her name.

Making sure she was calm, she turned back finding herself standing on a windswept hill that overlooked the Labyrinth. She swallowed hard, looking at the man who now sat upon a rock, his eyes looking into her own with something she couldn't explain. Because she had to say it, she spoke. "I didn't know how to get you to come to me again, Jareth. I truly didn't."

He gave her a melancholy smile, stepping towards her, his gloved hand cupping her cheek. "Let us find this daughter of yours, darling. We'll talk about anything else later..."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

They'd been walking for several hours when his captive finally spoke again.

"I'm tired."

"Not stopping," Kieran responded, continuing to shove the girl along the heavily wooded path. "We need to make up time for you running me in the wrong direction for ten minutes."

"I think we've more than made up for that-"

He shoved her harder. "Shut up and walk," he ordered, his brow furrowing in consternation.

She glanced back, giving him a look that could singe off a man's ball hairs. Her verbal response was equally as acidic. He stared at her for a full minute, trying to unravel the insult, and then gave up. Above grounders were strange, and as a rule, his family tried to not linger in areas where those who came here lived.

He gave her another strong shove for good measure, but he must have put too much strength into it, because she toppled over. However, she didn't swear, didn't curse at him. Instead, she began writhing on the ground. "Knock it off, I'm not going to fall for your pranks."

The writhing grew worse, and he watched her head hit the ground a few times hard enough that she should have cried out. "Shit, shit," he muttered, getting to his knees and rolling the girl over. Her eyes were rolled up in her head and she thrashed still. "This is so not worth the trouble." He dug through the pouch at his hip and pulled out a bottle with a stopper in it. "Saving a sacrifice, I must be some sort of idiot," he complained, using his teeth to pull the stopper out of it before he dripped the shining blue liquid over her lips. "Have another fit like this and I'm going to let you die."

The girl sputtered a bit, coughing, but the fluid didn't seep from between her lips, so he assumed it went down her throat. She relaxed, her eyes closed.

Now that he was seated, he found that he was actually quite tired as well. He pulled a leather thong from the pack he'd had waiting and made a noose around her ankle and another which he put around his wrist, then set up a fire, both for animal repelling properties and for extra warmth. He took off his tattered cloak and laid it over the girl who was sleeping.

Some small sausages cooked up easily over the fire, and he ate slowly, watching his young charge.

It had taken him by surprise when she'd fought back. This girl was no simple wilting violet. She had a defiant nature that almost made him smile. That didn't change his annoyance with the fact that she'd nearly kicked his balls into the next province or his equal frustration that because of this little fit, she'd set them back even more.

He sighed, leaning back against a log and pillowing his hands under his head. "Father is going to kill me," he muttered, closing his eyes for just a moment.

He woke to the feeling of his shoulder being jerked nearly out of its socket, and he quickly twisted his hand around his end of the thong and gave it a jerk, sending the girl spilling to the ground. He continued to pull it towards him until he could put a hand upon the girl's ankle. "So not cute," he grumbled, trying to acclimate himself to the sudden waking.

Obviously, she'd tried to run from him while he was asleep, however had failed to notice the tether he'd fastened her with. Her fingers, now covered with dirt from clawing at the ground to get away, were tearing at the noose around her ankle fruitlessly. "If you don't stop that, you'll just make your fingers bleed."

Finally, he was able to focus and found that dawn was just kissing the sky. He turned towards the girl and got the first look at her without darkness or distance hiding her features. He was surprised to find that his verbal assessment of her behavior did not include her appearance. Her face still had the softness of youth, but it was slightly awkward, since it was trying to become the face of a woman while still having that softness. There was a crop of freckles that curled over the bridge of her nose and her cheekbones. Her hair, wild from her fit last night, and having twigs and leaves stuck in it as well, was honey blond at the root and platinum at the tips.

Most startling, however, were her eyes.

She had the eyes of a fae. One was startling ocean blue, the other was moss green, and they were large, innocent.

He allowed himself to admit in silence that she was going to be quite devastating if she grew into that face.

Besides that, her face was smudged with dirt, likely from her abrupt fall to the ground. He gave her a harsh smile and displayed his wrist, where he'd tied off the 'leash'. "Wouldn't do to have the prize wandering off and getting herself killed."

She spat in his face and swore with quite the intense vocabulary for someone at such a tender age. Once her ranting settled a little bit, he stoked the fire and set a few more sausages in it to cook. He mostly ignored her, although his mind kept drifting back to what had happened when he'd been forced to stop the evening before.

The girl herself grew a bit quiet, frowning deeply. "What happened last night?"

He blinked, shocked at the non-threatening question. His eyes shifted towards her and he saw her pulling up blades of grass and smoothing them between her hands. He sighed, deciding that answering her wouldn't kill him. "You had some sort of fit. Started having a spasm, and lost consciousness." He shrugged when she looked towards him. "I gave you a tonic and you settled down, and I wasn't carrying you all the way by myself. You're heavier than you look," he said the last bit to spite her, to insight her anger.

However, she took on a pondering expression. It was a little troubled, yet at the same time relieved. "Then I suppose you saved me," she said calmly. "I don't suppose a fae would have much knowledge of human medical conditions..." She lifted her face and looked at him. "I'm diabetic. It's something I was born with. Something about my body absorbs sugar too fast or something, and if I don't eat pretty often I'll pass out."

He eyed her, frowning.

"I always usually have some kind of snack on me, but I didn't really have time to grab one last night." She gave him a faint grin. "Looks like your target is troublesome. That's what you're thinking, right?"

He didn't want to admit that, but it was true. To avoid answering that question, he dug through his pouch. "It's probably due to your mixed lineage. Fae can only really eat things like cake and sweet cream from the above. I suppose you can eat more variety, but it would explain your...condition. He found what he was looking for, pulling out the vial of glowing blue liquid. "I used this on you last night. If you notice yourself feeling tired or getting light headed, take a very small sip. It tastes like candy, so it's easy to try to drink too much, but if I see you take too much, I'll punch you in the stomach until you puke."

She took it, glaring at him again. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to be nice," she chastised.

He leaned towards her, his eyes narrowing. "I wasn't the one who violently kicked the other in an extremely sensitive place that girls your age shouldn't even know about," he hissed, darkly.

Her lips curled into a wickedly sharp smirk. "I know plenty of ways to cause physical pain, sir," she said, amused. "That's just one of them. And it was all I could reach." She turned her attention to the food and nibbled a sausage quietly for a long moment. "What's your name," she finally asked, turning her eyes towards him.

He blinked in surprise. "What does that matter?"

She frowned faintly. "Because, you're the only one here to talk to, so I figured if we're going to do that, we might as well be polite and properly introduce ourselves. You already know my name, but I don't know yours yet." She seemed to sense his reluctance, because her frown deepened. "And if you wont tell me, I'll have to come up with some irritating nickname like 'Bird boy' or 'fancy pants'."

He stared at her for several moments before a reluctant chuckle left his lips. He smothered it behind a hand, his shoulders shaking. Finally, he returned his gaze to her, his expression settling towards one of exasperation. "You're the most irritating chit I've ever had the misfortune of meeting."

"You mean kidnapping," she smiled, though, her eyes obviously seeing his amusement. "I would hardly say we 'met' the traditional way."

"Believe me when I say that kidnapping is not top on my list of things to do..." he glanced away, sighing quietly. "My name is Kieran. I'm the heir to a very small kingdom that borders the Goblin Kingdom. I'm the son of King Bram, who was once a very powerful, respected Unseelie king."

She looked him up and down and he arched a brow at the scrutiny. "Why is a prince kidnapping a neighboring king's half mortal daughter? And how do you even know that he's my father?"

"Instinct, I suppose. You...have the look of your father." He gave her a wry look. "You also have a bit of his attitude. Royal fae blood also has a particular smell." There was a hunger in her eyes and he slanted her a curious look. "You're looking at me strangely."

She leaned close to him. "You know my father." It was a statement. "Can I see him? Is that why you took me? Are you taking me to him?"

He was taken aback. The desire to meet the man who sired her was startlingly intense. He looked away from her, shaking his head. "No, princess, that's not why I took you from your home. I am no friend of your father's. Quite the opposite. You'll be the key to bringing your father to his knees."

She was still looking at him when he met her gaze once again. Her eyes – those unnerving, fae eyes – seemed to stare through him. She didn't speak, didn't condemn him, didn't accuse him. She wasn't trying to claw his eyes out, which considering her temper and how she'd kicked him in his privates was a definite risk. When she finally spoke, it was quite. "My mother tells me that my father doesn't even know that he has a daughter. If that's true, I don't see how anyone else would. We haven't had anything to do with this realm. So why did you take me?"

He was getting tired of the questions, as well as how the girl seemed just a little too savvy for a mortal of barely a decade. "My father sent me to kidnap Sarah Williams, who is said to have taken the Goblin King's power. When I arrived and discovered you, a possible daughter, I thought that you'd make a better choice. The Goblin King would sacrifice his kingdom to keep his heir safe."

She huffed. "You didn't think that this might piss off the Labyrinth's Champion? You knew she was my mother."

"Things such as that mattered little to me." He finished his breakfast and began scooping sand onto the fire. He gave her a brief once over and then huffed a sigh. "We're going to have to find you some suitable traveling clothes..."

She gave him a speculative look. "I don't suppose you have a needle and thread do you?"

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah watched Jareth kneel to the ground near the edge of the Labyrinth and touch the dirt, lifting a bit between his fingers, giving it a sniff and then he dabbed his finger in it, then touched his tongue. She would have cringed, but he straightened, turning towards her. "There's the odor of magic in this area. We're very close to a portal, which is likely the one that our brave young man used to spirit away your daughter."

Our daughter, she wanted to say, but there was no point in telling him. Once this was over, she was certain he wanted her out of her life as quickly as possible. She just didn't know how to explain her appearance once they found Erin. Now that she was once again faced with the man, she found that it would be impossible for him not to recognize the resemblance. However they'd never had physical contact, and while he knew of their shared dreams, that didn't mean he would believe in immaculate conception. "Then we can track him?"

"Of course I can track him," Jareth grumbled, giving her a faint glare. "Just who do you think you're talking to?"

"His royal highness, who happens to be an arrogant pain in the ass?" It was muttered under her breath, but he must have heard her because he shot her a sharper glare. She stuck her tongue out in a childish manner, pulling it back in when he snapped his teeth at her. She stared at him, startled.

"Put that away unless you're prepared to use it."

Blood pooled in her cheeks and she sputtered, shocked that he'd even said that. "Prick," she muttered as she shot him a harsh glare of her own, before glancing around. They were on the edge of a forest, and the sun was starting to lighten the sky to purples and pinks. "So you think I was their target?"

He hummed in agreement, heading towards the treeline. "The girl who conquered the Labyrinth, who declared that the king of it had no power over her. I'm certain that Bram thought you would be able to give him that power somehow. He's a fool who doesn't know a thing about the situation, but thought a kidnapping would incite a war that he could win."

"Why would anyone want to go to war?" Sarah frowned deeply, confused by the idea of it. "I mean, people you care for might die, and there's really no guarantee that you'll win at the end."

"Indeed, and I thought after the last time we fought, he'd have learned his lesson. In that battle, he lost five of his six sons and his mistress, although I did not realize there was a woman on the field at the time." Jareth turned towards her, his face solemn. "She was a brilliant fighter, one of the best on the field that day, and she died protecting the King's sixth son, who I presume was also her own. I struck her down not knowing, I was so deep in a battle rage."

Sarah shuddered. "So the boy has reason to hate you," she said quietly.

"Indeed, I suppose so. It has been so long since I've heard from that kingdom that I'd assumed that Bram had finally settled on the terms that Oberon had set, but it appears I was wrong." Jareth shook his head. "The man has grown to be a greater fool in the past decades."

She followed Jareth as he walked through the first trees, then she shuddered, concern tickling her. "Damn, I hope Erin knows enough to tell that boy of her condition..." She rubbed her arms roughly, feeling slightly chilled in the damp morning air. Then again, it might just be her worry that caused the shivers that wracked her frame.

Something heavy was dropped on her shoulders and she blinked, finding Jareth had draped the cloak around her. He didn't linger in touching her, simply set it about her and then continued to move forward as if nothing had happened, or as if he didn't even realize he'd done it. She swallowed hard, stilling when Jareth paused, turning towards her. "Condition?"

Sarah pulled the cloak tighter around herself, unable to look in his piercing gaze. "Erin is diabetic. If she doesn't eat small meals frequently, she can go into convulsions or a diabetic coma. If that happens, she can die."

There was something melancholy in his gaze. "Does she look like you?"

She swallowed, looking up into his face. He tried very hard to hide the emotions in his eyes, but they were so strong that there was still a hint of sadness, of loneliness. "Not especially. She had my nose, my chin, my freckles. She has her father's hair, and his cheekbones." It was as much as she could say without telling too much.

He was quiet for a long moment and then offered her his hand, but she couldn't be sure if he was offering it to her as a guide or as a man. Tentatively, she rested her own upon his, seeing relief so intense in his gaze it was palpable.

As a man, then.

She wrapped her fingers around his own, letting him lead her further into the forest, and hopefully, closer to finding her daughter and the young fool who'd seen fit to kidnap her little girl.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.