The Goblin King's Daughter
By: DemonSaya
Chapter Three
Her kidnapper, who supposedly was a fae prince who called himself Kieran, did not have a needle or thread…or scissors. In fact, it seemed to her that he had nothing useful in that pouch of his besides that potion, which she now carried precariously in the loose pocket of her pajama shorts. She'd managed to talk him into loaning her one of his shirts, as well as a vest, however, she was still barefoot and rather filthy.
Shortly after breakfast, they'd begun trudging through the forest again, although he was moving quicker than she was strictly happy with. She didn't comment eying him with a pursed frown on her lips. "Would it kill you to slow down a little?"
"Until we're out of the Goblin King's territory, we're going to keep up this pace." He didn't so much as glance back at her.
She examined him, her frown deepening. "You're afraid of him?"
He didn't answer, and she scooted up beside him, looking up at his face. He had a look about him that told her he was being stubborn and it made her want to laugh a bit. Who would have thought? He actually had a cute side to his personality. Then again, maybe it was a little sadistic of her to consider this stubborn, pouty side to be 'cute'. She certainly wasn't going to say that out loud. As it was, he was giving her one of those speculative looks from the corner of his eyes; like he was trying to read her thoughts or something.
She gave him an impudent smile, and cocked her head to the side. She was challenging him and she knew it. She found as she grew up that it was impossible not to challenge people. The only one she didn't seek to cause distress was her mother, and that's because the older woman was quite distressed as it was. "You look worried," came the voice of the man beside her.
She blinked, noticing that he was no longer looking at her, his gaze was once more on the path before them. She inclined her head and frowned a bit. "My mother is probably very..." she floundered for a word to describe how her mother likely felt. Upset was too weak, distressed wasn't right either. "Pissed off."
He frowned deeply, glancing back at her. "Your language is inappropriate for a girl your age."
"Stop living in the stone age," she snapped, stomping ahead of him on the path. She indignantly tossed her hair over her shoulder as she went. Her foot caught something in the ground and whatever it was cut across her ankle. "Ouch, son of a -"
"DUCK!"
Two arms caught her and she fell backwards just in time to see a deadly looking metal ball that was covered in spikes swing out of the trees, right where her head had been moments before. She stared at it as it swung back, completing the pendulum motion, her blood rushing from her face, leaving a cold tingle in its wake. A gloved hand slipped over her eyes, hiding her face as the swooshing sound of the trap came rushing past her head once again.
"There are reasons that when traveling, the women are well protected. In this forest there are worse things than fieries, and they'll take advantage of young ladies, regardless of their age. Minotaur are especially fond of virgins, and I've seen the remains that are left." The voice in her ear was chastising, irritated, and harsh. However, the hand was very gentle. "There are also thieves and bandits. So do yourself a favor and stick close, else you run afoul another one of these traps."
She shuddered, nodded, and let the fae help her to her feet. Her keen eyes caught sight of a tear on his sleeve, and noted it looked slightly damp. She reached towards it, but her kidnapper withdrew as though her touch was poison. She blinked in surprise and saw his face was tight with pain and it seemed to have grown a little pale. She put her most irritated expression on her face and grabbed the thong he still had around her ankle and his wrist and used it to pull him over.
He fought against her, but he didn't appear to be struggling very hard.
"Let me see it," she grumbled, gripping his arm and turning it in her hand. She pried the tear in the shirt open and stared at the long, thin scratch that seemed to be bleeding rather badly for such a mild wound. She frowned at it slightly, and took the edge of her pajama top, which had been tied around her waist, and tore a long strip from it.
Her kidnapper had gone quiet, and was still rather pale. She wrapped the strip around his arm a few times, tying the knot over the wound. When it was done, she released him and waited. He was quiet for a long moment, examining the make-shift wrap that she'd put on him. "I figure that you probably don't have a proper first aid kit either, so when we get to town, you should get one," she said frowning at him.
He didn't say anything, but he moved forward, his eyes once again going to the path. Frowning, she fell into step behind him, her eyes going towards where she'd bandaged his arm. It was really starting to bother her that even though he'd kidnapped her, he kept protecting her. His hand had covered her eyes so she wouldn't be frightened or have her face possibly injured by the trap, and he was injured himself as a result. He'd snatched her from her bed, but he'd saved her life twice now. He'd grumbled a lot about it, threatened to not help her again, but even so.
"You don't seem to have the temperament to kidnap someone," she said finally, walking faster so that she was at his side. "I think you might actually be too nice for it."
He glared at her. "I'm not 'nice'." His voice was cool as he stated that.
She gave a shrug and looked up at him, meeting his glare with her own measuring look. "No, you're not nice; you're rude and sort of irritating, and far too cranky. But you're not cruel. That's what I meant. I kicked you in the balls, but when I had my fit, you saved me. Again back there. You loaned me a spare shirt and vest, even though you could have left me in my pajama."
She examined him more closely. Was he...blushing?
"Don't be stupid." The grumbled words were low and he averted his face from hers, as if trying to hide. A smile turned up her lips, but she hid it. He was rude and irritating, but he really was almost cute.
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
Sarah was getting tired. Jareth could tell by the way she was carrying herself, her shoulders hunched, her feet shuffling where earlier her steps had been evenly measured. Her hands held his cloak closed around her shoulders, yet she shivered.
The girl he'd known had been stubborn and just looking at the woman she'd become, he knew that hadn't changed. She wouldn't ask to stop, wouldn't wish to appear inferior or weaker. Which meant he was going to be drawing the line and refusing to let her shift it. "We're stopping for awhile." Jareth set the pack his goblins had brought him down on the ground, and starting to scrounge for dry timber to use for a fire.
"We can't afford to stop; the kidnapper has a head start-"
Jareth turned his gaze to her. "What good will you be if you collapse from exhaustion at a critical moment? It's better for everyone involved if we sit down for an hour and rest ourselves. Besides, I'm tired." He said the last part just as she opened her mouth to object again. "I had a startlingly poor night's sleep last eve, and I need a break." He gestured towards the bag. "There will be some fairy cakes and such in there, if you're hungry."
"I can't eat the food of the fae, or I'll be trapped here," her jaw got that admirably stubborn set to it and he arched a brow, smirking.
"A bit late to be worried about that, isn't it? What with the enchanted peach nineteen years ago?" He couldn't help but smirk at her when she glared up at him and snatched the bag off the ground, rummaging through it. "I'm glad you aren't putting up too much of a fight."
She looked like she wanted to razz him, but she must have thought better of it. She pulled out a carefully wrapped cake out of the bag, nibbling the edge. "So if I already broke that rule, how was I able to go home?"
"Rule," he scoffed, setting the kindling in a pile and snapping a finger at it, pleased when it happily burst into flames, causing the girl to jump as though startled. "My dear silly girl, how is that a rule? It's simply a story made up by the human realms."
Her jaw dropped and she stared at him, dumbstruck. "What?"
His head rocked back and he laughed, flopping down beside her and looking at her, amused by her shock. "Sarah, stories always hold a grain of truth, it's just not always the part that everyone expects to be truth. Things are said like the 'touch' of iron is fatal to us. It really depends on how hard we're touched with it, and whether or not it enters the bloodstream."
"You mean everything in those stories is false?" She looked like she got whacked upside her head, which he found both amusing and endearing. It must be difficult to have the carpet pulled from beneath her feet at her age.
"Not everything. There's always a grain of truth. Fae do tend to kidnap children, often leaving our own in the child's place. We don't use them for slavery or any such nonsense, we liberate them from homes where they are unloved, putting in its place a more resilient fae child. We also have an affinity for sweet foods, for no reason I can understand."
Sarah gave a soft chuckle, as if something suddenly made sense to her and she set her chin on her knees. The cloak was pulled around her knees as well as she hugged them. "You'd get along well with Erin, then. She can't stay away from cake and cookies and such. She eats it constantly and is still skinny as a wraith, and yet I eat a few too many and I gain an inch at the hips."
Jareth eyed her, his lips pulling into a faint smirk. "From where I'm sitting, Sarah, it's hardly a bad thing..." Her eyes snapped to his and he proceeded to undress her with his eyes, sweeping them up and down her slowly, getting the desired response. Her cheeks flared and her jaw dropped just a bit.
"I can't believe this, even now you're a sexual harassment case waiting to happen!" She pulled the cloak tighter around herself as if to ward off the gaze.
"Ah, but it took your mind off what was making you sad, so how is that a bad thing?" Her face grew startled, and then pensive, and then she turned her face from his own. He felt a twist in his chest that he refused to relate to that hollow place his heart had once been. He closed his eyes, holding out a hand to her. "I'll take half. If you eat the whole thing, you'll be bouncing off the walls up into the clouds."
He could see her resisting, but in the end, she broke the cake in half and passed part of it to him. He leaned back and bit into it, staring up at the blue sky. He wasn't certain how to broach what was bothering him, but he knew they had to discuss it eventually. "You hate me, don't you?"
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her head whip towards him and read shock on her face. "What?"
He returned his gaze to the sky, pillowing his head atop one hand. "You can't stand to look me in the eyes, you insult and taunt me at every turn, and you seem rather set on getting this done followed promptly by getting away from me." He couldn't deny the bitterness in his voice. "I'd go as far as to say that if you'd had any other way of getting to the Underground you'd have never called upon me."
She was quiet for a long moment. "I...don't hate you," she said, her voice quiet, almost emotionless. "I'm just...feeling a little unsteady at the moment."
"You and me both, my dear." He huffed, glancing at her once again. He was surprised at the sudden pain in her eyes. "Sarah-"
She shook her head, finished the last of her cake and stood, removing the cloak. "Thanks for the loan. I'm feeling much better."
She says as she stands there shivering to pieces, he thought, but he didn't call her on it. He stood, accepting the cloak and waved his hand at the fire, letting it die down to embers. "Then let's move on. We shouldn't stay stationary for long. The more ground we cover, the faster we shorten the distance between ourselves and our target."
He headed in the direction they needed to move once again and noticed Sarah lagging behind a bit. He turned towards her, seeing pain bordering on agony in her expression and he had to fight to keep from going towards her and drawing her into his arms. As he fastened his cape once more around his shoulders, he couldn't help but notice how her scent lingered upon it and he closed his eyes, breathing the scent of her deeply as he could.
Without word, without comment, they began walking forward once again.
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
Erin was starting to feel dizzy. The heat under the trees was too high, and she hadn't eaten since the sausage that morning. Her body was fiercely craving something sweet. Cake, cookies. A doughnut. Chocolate glazed, maybe with some sprinkles on it. And an iced mocha. Sweet and cold and delicious-
"Hey, you're listing again!"
Erin snapped out of her daydream as the tether around her ankle was jerked sharply and she went down on her tailbone. Her eyes instantly focused on the slash of white that was on his arm, the only white on him. Her vision blurred, focused again, and she lifted her gaze, looking at the so-called fae prince leaning over her. Her butt hurt.
A cool hand touched her head lightly and she wobbled a little bit. There was almost concern in his voice when he spoke again. "Do you need rest?"
"I need sugar..." she squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her face against her knees. She was shivering. There was a soft sigh and she felt a hand groping into her pocket. Ah, the vial. She felt glass against her lips and a drop fell against her lips. A sigh escaped as the drop hit her tongue. He was right, it tasted like candy. Yet at the same time, it was like honey, or sweet berries. Something pure, not chemical.
She wanted more of that, she noticed, but as she reached for the vial, it was pulled away. Sullenly, she opened her eyes to glare at him. He replaced the stopper, stuffing it back into his pouch and examining her eyes with an intensity that caused her only the mildest discomfort. "I did tell you to just take a sip."
She was still shivering hard enough that she couldn't tell him where to stuff his attitude. She wanted to swear at him with considerable force, but she could only manage a feeble "push off" before she felt a heavy weight on her shoulders, and she focused on him once again. She continued to stare at him, noticing that his eyes were actually rather pretty. They weren't very large; however they were shaped like almonds, with a deep crease above and long, thick black lashes. The startling golden amber wasn't a human color for eyes to be at all, but framed as they were with the thick dark fringe, she found that they suited him. He was golden. His eyes, his skin.
After a moment, those eyes changed from intense to something else she didn't know or understand and his gaze averted. "We'll rest for a bit. I'll see if I can find some berries or something."
She reached out, grabbing his shirt in her hand. He stilled, looking at her hand then at her face, confused. She gave him a faintly smug smile. "I told you that you were nice."
His response was creative, but physically impossible. Still, it drew a soft giggle from her and she released him, watching him walk away from her.
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
"Nice," he muttered, brushing back the overhanging leaves of a berry bush. "The kid I kidnapped thinks that I'm nice." He was grumbling, although Kieran wasn't certain what about. It seemed to him that she thrived on irritating, and wanted to do it to the best of her ability. He wasn't trying to be nice. He was only watching after her to make sure that she got to his father's kingship in one piece.
One foul-mouthed, annoying, childish piece. It had unnerved him more than he wanted to admit that moment when her oddly large two-toned eyes locked with his own gold pair and he'd had the unsteady sensation of drowning. One blue as the deep ocean, the other the same green as the moss which hung from the trees.
He didn't think he liked the knowledge that she saw something in him that he didn't see himself, or perhaps couldn't see himself. He didn't know why she saw it. He was nearly an adult, almost a century older than her. Even by mortal standards, she was nothing more than a child. She'd only known him a few hours at best, and she hadn't exactly seen him at his best. Then again, when he was in a situation he couldn't really find a way out of he tended to get a little cranky.
He knew what his father's plan had been. To sacrifice the champion of the Labyrinth, and then eat her heart, inheriting the powers that the mortal had stolen from the Goblin King, rendering Bram able to conquer that kingdom, followed by the realm. He frowned at the thought of the child that was currently keeping him company getting sacrificed in the same manner.
He shook the thoughts away. It was too early to worry about that as of yet. First he had to keep her alive long enough to get her out of the enemy kingdom.
He found some berries, as well as several small, ripe peaches. For whatever reason, peaches grew in droves in the Goblin Kingdom, and the fragrance was almost overpowering. It was the only kingdom in the Underground that grew the sweet fruit. Most other fae preferred the sweetness of ripe berries or cakes to the taste of tree fruits, but rumor was that the king favored them.
He returned to where the girl was sitting, still huddled within his cloak, which made her look small and somehow frail. Her hands were pulled into the sleeves of his shirt, and she was looking at something on the ground with deep curiosity. At first he thought she'd gotten herself into trouble once again, but he leaned forward to see what she was looking at and saw a crystal laying there, a perfect sphere.
It was the calling sign of the Goblin King.
Kieran snarled, lifting a foot and preparing to stomp on it. Seconds before he was bringing his foot down, she grabbed the crystal and held it close to her chest, a strange look in her eyes.
"Don't." It wasn't a command exactly, but there was a sort of pleading desperation in her voice. "I...can see my mom." Those mismatched eyes that he couldn't decide if he liked or loathed lifted and looked at him, that need echoed in them. "Please."
The request was quiet, and he knew in that instant he could prove her wrong. He could snatch it away from her and shatter it, and she couldn't stop him. He knew that she knew it as well. Yet there was no doubt in her eyes that he would give her this. He tore his gaze away from hers. "Where did the cursed thing come from?"
She shook her head. "I wanted to know how mom was doing, I wanted to see that she was alright." She gave a small, brave smile. "When I'm not there, I worry that she'll do something stupid. Like get back together with that prat Alex." She curled her hand protectively around it. "When I looked down, this was in my hand, and I was so startled that I dropped it. That's when I saw mom..."
He frowned faintly. She'd only been in the Underground a few hours yet it seemed that she was developing fae powers. He wasn't entirely certain that was a good thing or a bad thing. "Put the damnable thing where I can't see it," he finally said, not wanting to examine his actions too closely, lest something that was a great mystery to himself be revealed. He wasn't sure he could handle whatever his stubbornness was keeping hidden. After another moment, he turned and found that it was no longer in sight, and he set the fruits down before her. "Eat quickly and bring the rest with you."
She lifted a peach, biting into it, hesitating, and then biting it again. It seemed as if the peach unnerved her a little, but after that first bite, when nothing happened, she began eating it with relish. Amusement made him chuckle a bit and he couldn't help but watch her as he grazed on a few of the blackberries. "You're certainly your father's daughter," he commented, shaking his head. "He's the only fae I've ever heard that likes tree fruits, especially peaches. They say he's favored them for years, but no one really knows why."
She stared down at the peach in her hand for a long moment, and then smiled a bit, as though amused and sat at the same time. "Maybe they're his favorite weapon. When my mother ran the Labyrinth, he sent her an enchanted peach that made her forget her mission...for a little while." She finished the peach and tossed the pit away. "Mom never did really tell me what she dreamed at that time."
"It's not unheard of," Kieran stood dusting off his pants and watching the girl collect the remaining fruit and hold it in his shirt. He winced, knowing that the pale linen would be stained with pink and purple from the berries. He made a mental note to purchase some manner of bag for her as well as some clothing suitable for a young girl.
"What's not unheard of?" He glanced towards her and found her jogging to keep up with him. He huffed a sigh and checked his stride so that he wasn't dragging her by the ankle the whole way.
"Do you want to know where the humans got the idea that food of this realm made it impossible to return to the other?" A nice safe topic, this one. Or so he hoped.
Her eyes brightened. "A story?"
"Not exactly, more like the facts that made the story." He slipped his arms behind his neck, rubbing it. He wasn't unused to sleeping in the dirt instead of a bed. He tended to make it a habit in order to avoid being at court, where his status was thrust in his face. Maybe he was getting too old for it, however. "Feeding a mortal food from here doesn't trap them anymore than loaning them clothing or giving them some sort of care. If that canon were true, we'd be just as trapped by eating the food of your realm, and we're rather fond of sweet cakes."
She blinked, looking up at him. "Like 'Little Debbies'?"
He chuckled. "Yes, just so, although when the myths were first created, they were homemade oatmeal cookies with sweetened whipped cream in the center. Anyways, it wasn't the food that trapped them. When a mortal loses their memories of their own realm, they find themselves unable to return. Eventually, some would regain their memories, and then flee to their homelands, not realizing that it had been hundreds of years. When that happened, the mortal would age and die on the spot."
"That's so sad," she said softly. "If the fae know that in returning home they'll die, why do they let them go?"
He looked towards her. "Because we're arrogant, and we believe that if the mortal really wanted us, they wouldn't make us beg." He shrugged and continued. "The food only suppressed the memories, as long as the mortal ate it every day. The finishing touches were usually intimate contact, because that myth is very true. Now and then, a mortal regains its memories despite everything and decides to stay, and only then is intimate contact allowed. It would do a fae no good to have his or her mate regain their memories and try to leave. It will kill the human and the fae would be desolate for the rest of its long life. Those who have such happen to them become the bean sidhe."
"Bean sidhe?"
"Death's washwomen, or Fisher kings." He shrugged. "It's not a pretty sight, so it was made into law that only after a human decided to stay among the fae, would such contact be allowed..." he paused, looking towards her, as though suddenly confused. "How you came into being is beyond me."
She blinked, looking at him in confusion. "I don't understand."
"You're the daughter of a fae and a mortal, kid. By all rights, when your mother left, it should have killed her and you, and your father would be wandering the rivers, out of his mind with grief, warning others of the deaths of those they loved."
"That is odd," Erin agreed, and Kieran looked at her, his jaw sagging in shock at how matter of fact she was taking it. He collected himself and found a faint smile forming on his lips as he looked down at the girl he escorted to his kingdom and felt a curious itch in his throat.
"Odd indeed," he choked out, then regained control of himself. That itchy feeling was growing more and more common, and he'd begun to recognize it as the feeling of laughter trying to crawl its way out of himself. "The only way it would make sense to me is if your mother were not really your mother, but the mortal charged with raising a fae child in the human realm."
Erin gave him a look of half-amusement. "You wouldn't say that if you'd seen the birthing tape."
"The what?"
She stopped, looking up at him and he saw the beginnings of a smile forming on her full lips. "My mother's husband at the time had a video recorder, something that copies events in motion and puts them on film to be watched later. He was pointing it at me as I came out." She paused and there was a dark look on her face. "That was before he left her."
He stared down at her in surprise. "Your mother married a mortal? The woman that brought a fae king to his knees married a mere mortal?"
"Father...couldn't be there. She never really explained why, but I think I know why now." She lifted her face, staring off into the trees as she walked. "'You have no power over me,' she said, and he couldn't reach her. Even after she had me. He's never held me, never seen my face."
Kieran frowned faintly, and then looked away. "Come on, kid. Let's cover some more ground before we have to stop and feed you again," he grumbled down at her. He continued walking in silence, glancing down at her from time to time, seeing the faint melancholy around her that seemed far too deep for one so young. And for the first time, he really wondered if he was doing the right thing.