The Goblin King's Daughter
By: DemonSaya
Chapter Six
They'd spent the evening in that town, and Erin was grossly aware that Kieran was on the receiving end of both dirty and extremely interested looks. She tried to imagine how they must look together, but having no precedent, she had no way to do so. She knew he was as aware of the glances as she, however, he was ignoring them; putting his focus on the first real food they'd eaten in almost a week.
He was oddly quiet, which wasn't unusual for him, however, he did usually talk to her a bit over their meal, but he'd grown tense as the day passed.
Now, they lay in a room, their beds on opposite sides of it, and he was tossing and turning in his own. He had been still for the first hour, as if trying to keep his internal upset a secret, until she finally pretended to be asleep, and that's when his agitation really began. There was something that was tearing him apart, and she didn't know what it was. In fact, it seemed to her that he'd begun having more and more trouble sleeping in the past days.
It rather bothered her that she didn't know what was eating the person she'd begun to consider a friend. She'd mostly forgiven him for kidnapping her and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't grown attached to her sometimes over protective fae companion. Still, it was touching that he was trying to protect her by keeping her sheltered. She just wasn't certain how she was going to explain to him that she'd always been extremely astute regarding the emotions of others.
She just usually didn't care. She'd grown to realize that with Kieran that didn't apply. She actually cared about him, and so it did bother her when something bothered him. She didn't want to examine it too much, but it was true. Without a word, she gathered up her blanket and moved over to his bed and climbed in.
He nearly came out of his skin. He whipped around, looking at her with a deer in the headlights sort of expression. "What are you doing," he asked after a long moment. He was still looking at her like she was insane.
"I'm having trouble sleeping. Sometimes it helps if I sleep with mom, so I thought it might work with you," she answered easily. It wasn't all a lie. She really did crawl into bed with her mother, but usually it was Sarah Williams that needed the comfort, and she knew that this man could be as stubborn as her mother about some things, so she didn't give him the real reason.
"Damn kid," he grumbled. She took that as acceptance, so she snuggled down onto the mattress, trying not to snicker about how he tried to squeeze himself into the corner as tightly as possible. She didn't get too close to him, didn't put her arms around as she would have with her mother, but she found that even though he'd grown more tense with her presence, she had relaxed and she looked at his back, smiling faintly.
"Goodnight, Kieran," she said softly, then closed her eyes, feeling sleep swiftly pulling her into its grasp.
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
Kieran sighed, irritated and exasperated at his current situation. He was curled up tightly against the wall, trying to not have any contact with the girl at his side. The warmth from her had seeped into him since she'd first lay down beside him, giving him plenty of space at first.
However, she had begun shifting some time ago, and now she was pressed snug against his back.
"Gimme some space," he snapped at her, turning to cast a glare at the now very comfortably cuddly young lady. His glare had little effect, because he found that she'd fallen into a sound sleep, and looked very content right where she was.
He gave a soft huff, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. That girl had some kind of backbone, he decided, a grudging smile turning up his lips. Jumping into a bed with the fully grown man who'd kidnapped her had to have taken some spine. She also had a fire and determination that he couldn't help but admire, and she attacked the world with such passion he wasn't certain he should call her brave or foolhardy. She was just a child of twelve years and yet she'd managed to run him – who was nearly a hundred years old – completely ragged.
It stood to reason that she would be exhausted, he thought, turning towards her and looking down into her sleeping face, a small smile turning up his lips.
Who would have thought that she would fall asleep so easily beside him? After all, he had kidnapped this girl called Erin Williams. The daughter of the Goblin King. The thought sobered him completely, all traces of his smile now gone.
He knew his father would want to use the girl as a sacrifice, to use her blood to incite war with the Goblin Kingdom, to try to unseat the Goblin King and take that throne as he'd failed to do all those years ago. He'd known that would be his father's choice as soon as he'd kidnapped the girl, had known that would have been the mother's fate as well.
Now, however, the mere idea of it turned his stomach.
Something deep inside him cried out that he had to protect her, to defend this child who was in a strange land and could not protect herself from the evils within it. He wanted to take care of her, to watch her grow into the woman he somehow knew she'd become. He wanted to-
He covered his mouth in horror and shock.
He wanted to be with her. The thought struck him and he couldn't deny that he was suddenly terrified.
He was falling in love with her.
He squeezed his eyes shut, hiding the face that was so close to his own now. She was just a child; he couldn't fall in love with a little girl! It was impossible, impractical. He would have to be ten times the fool to fall in love with the one he kidnapped. She was just an irritating little brat, with spine and spirit. Just a tool that had lovely eyes, and the very beginning of the curves she'd have as a woman.
Dammit. This was absurd. Here he was, a century old, having been with some of the most beautiful courtiers of the Underground, having had lovers for half of his life, and he was falling in love with a brat who was still at that awkward point where she was caught between being a child and a woman.
This had to have been his mother's fault. He didn't think she'd truly be so cruel as to curse him like this, but it was a distinct possibility. When he'd been a boy, he'd asked her why she was still the mistress for the king who looked down at her as well as him. She had given him a fond smile and explained to him that love was blind, and you don't really have a choice regarding who you love. It's simply something that you do, and you shouldn't question it when it happens. She'd said that he should simply enjoy it when it occurs, because all too often, people in his situation will be forced into a political marriage.
He opened his eyes again, gazing upon that young face. He didn't know when it had started, but he resigned himself to the knowledge. "You troublesome little brat," he whispered, reaching forward and pushing the hair that had fallen from its plastic clip back over her shoulder. Reaching up, he unhooked the horrid little thing from her hair and tossed it away.
He would find a way, he decided. There had to be a way to fool his father into sparing her life, a way to make the old man think that his loyalty still lay with the King. There was no need for his father to know that it now rested in the hands of the child who was so trustingly laying at his side, snuggled against him.
A trump card, he thought, his eyes widening. A hostage to the peace. His father might just buy that excuse to keep her alive. After all, spilled blood would incite war, which would tear the remains of Bram's kingship apart. He didn't think Bram could see this, after all, he was caught in the grips of his personal madness still. Still, there had to be a way to convince him. However, as a hostage to the peace, she'd be confined to a dungeon for the rest of her life, and who knew what the guards would do to her.
The idea sickened him. He had to think of something else, something different, where she would be able to stay at his side, where he could continue to protect her.
He smoothed her hair gently, and then leaned forward, brushing his lips softly against her temple. "I'll protect you," he promised softly. "Someway, I will protect you." With that softly spoken declaration, he closed his eyes and pulled the girl closer, finding comfort in the warmth. "Sleep well, Erin."
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
"Jareth, Erin is your daughter."
Jareth sighed softly, his lips pursing just a bit when Sarah whispered that little sentence in his ear. He knew that the reasonable response to such a thing as this would be throwing the adult equivalent to a temper tantrum, and yet he found that he could not. Not so much because he wasn't irritated, because he was. However relief that she'd finally gotten around to tell him tempered that irritation, so the best he could do was purse his lips a bit and sigh.
That was obviously not the reaction that Sarah expected, because she lifted her face, looking down at him, a perplexed expression on her face. "You're not yelling."
"Obviously," he said calmly, seeing the confusion on her lovely face as she looked down at him. He sighed, shifting so that he was sitting up, his torn shirt gaping down to his belly button.
Sarah sat as well, wearing nothing but that poets' shirt, which barely veiled her breasts. Her hands were between her knees and she sat on her feet, looking concerned and troubled. "Why not?" Obviously, his unexpectedly mild response was throwing her off further.
He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "Darling, are you completely unaware of the fact that there is a picture of her sitting on your vanity?" He gave her a look of amused exasperation and watched her absorb that information. "You've been very careful, trying to keep this secret from me, however, you got very nervous when you learned that I can smell the differences in their blood. Granted, hers was weak at first, and it was harder to tell, and I knew there was a possibility that she was not my blood." He gave her a placid smile. "Until yesterday. The scent changed, became stronger, less subtle. I suspect it's driving her kidnapper insane right at this moment."
She closed her eyes tightly and he saw the pain on her face. "I shouldn't have hidden it," she said softly. "I just thought you would be angry and..."
"And," he prompted, rolling his hand to get her to continue.
Her eyes opened and he knew what she was going to say before she did. "I wasn't sure you'd believe me. I mean...it was just one time and in a dream, at that."
He reached forward, cupping her chin in his hand and preventing her from looking away from him. There was so much shame and pain on her face it was almost physically painful for him to look at her. He forced himself to, regardless, cupping the back of her head with the other hand. "First, you need to understand that once, a long time ago, the phenomenon was rather common. The fae used to have more dealings with humans, and when one of my kind would see a beautiful human who believed, they would come to her in dreams, woo her well enough that when the relationship ended, the woman was often left brokenhearted. In addition, nine months later, she'd find herself giving birth to a baby that was of mixed descent."
She stared at him, eyes wide in shock. "Wham bam, thank you, ma'am."
He gave her a half-smile. "Indeed. Regardless, as the veil thickened between our worlds, it's become far more uncommon, as fae are wrapped up in their own realm and think humans beneath them. There hasn't been a half-mortal fae in ages, and to my knowledge, there has never been one who was of royal descent. The leaders in the Underground are entirely too careful." He sighed, shaking his head. "Obviously I'm not too careful. I fell in love with a human woman who seems bent on driving me half-insane."
She gave a weak smile. "The feeling is mutual, highness."
He gave her a wry smile in return, then caressed her face tenderly. "And regarding my anger: would my rage make you stay at my side? I think not. As a matter of fact, I would imagine that being calm and understanding would gain far more ground with you, after the careless treatment you received at the hands of your former husband.
There was shock on her face. The faintest trace of hope. He gave her a smile that was just for her and coaxed her closer, caressing her lips gently, an apology for his rough treatment. "Although I admit that being calm and understanding with you is more difficult that you may suspect."
She gave a small smile. "You drive me crazy, too. In good ways and bad."
He sighed softly, hugging her against his chest. "Oh, you precious thing." She was shivering slightly, the cold air obviously affecting her once more, and he found her trousers, helping her put them on once again, and then wrapped her in his cape, holding her in his lap, his arms around her.
The exhausted woman quickly lost the battle for sleep and he found himself staring into the fire as she slept against him. It was true that he'd quickly figured out that Erin was his child. A child whose life he had missed twelve years of. It would have been a lie to say that when he'd first figured it out that he hadn't been angry in the slightest. At the trap, where there had been so much of the male's blood, there had been the faintest trace of the child's, just on the trigger for the trap.
That was when it had been fully confirmed. Still, he'd waited in hopes that the woman would tell him of her own will. That she'd waited this long had been driving him insane. He wanted to laugh regarding how she'd finally come to confess such a thing to him.
"You damned fool, you would have let me believe that it was a mortal's child clear up until we found her, wouldn't you?" His eyes saddened that her view of him was so bad that she believed that he wouldn't forgive her deception. He didn't really want to, because he'd missed his child's life, he'd missed being able to hold her when she was an infant, did not get to kiss scrapes and bruises. No, her mother had that privilege, and she would have taken the rest of it, had the child not been kidnapped.
That sobered him further. If she'd been kidnapped, then it was known to his enemies that Erin was his daughter. Bram was three times the fool for orchestrating this, however it seemed impossible that the old fool would know that he had a dreamborne child. That left Bram's remaining son, the kidnapper. For all of his talk, that boy had more cause to hate him than even his father.
He was Oberon's sword and shield, and it had been put upon his kingdom to knock Bram down a few pegs. The man was getting too powerful, and if it continued, then Oberon's power as the High King could have been overthrown. So he'd rallied his army, led them onto the field. Two of the brothers had fallen at his hand, simply because they would not stand down. Two more had fallen at the hands of goblins. The fifth had fled the battle, being caught and torn apart by the fieries.
The raven had come thundering down, had landed and changed into a young adolescent fae, who was killing goblins with surprising ease.
Jareth could remember bearing down on the boy, hoping to end this battle now, however the fool had turned towards him, had attacked. He'd descended into the battle rage further, and so when he lifted his sword for the death blow, he'd not seen the woman put herself before his sword.
After wards, in Oberon's court, Jareth had felt the youth's eyes upon him, had seen the hatred in those eyes. He could remember Bram slipping into madness when the bodies of his sons and lover were placed before him.
Yes, Erin was definitely in a great deal of danger. He could only hope that the boy was as susceptible to the charms of the Williams women as he'd found himself to be.
Yet now Jareth was not just chasing this foolish youth to take his daughter back. Now he also owed the foolish young fae a debt of gratitude. After all, if not for the man's theft of the child, Jareth may have never seen Sarah again, would have never known that he had a daughter.
Unable to quite believe it, he hugged the woman closer still, a grim smile turning up the corners of his lips. "You won't be leaving me this time, precious. Not ever again," he murmured, stroking a hand down across her back and drawing her closer still. Last time they'd been protected due to the fact that the union between them was only in their dreams. Even so, he'd been grieved the first time she left him, and the second time he had almost gone mad. Now, they didn't have that protection. They were stuck together, whether she liked it or not, because if she left and took Erin he wouldn't become a Fisher King. He would likely just die from the grief.
His grim smile widened and wondered how his precious was going to respond to their new situation.
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
Morning came too soon, and Kieran opened his eyes to find mismatched ones looking up at him in amusement. His still half-asleep mind was seconds away from ignoring the fact that it was Erin who he was presently curled around when it snapped to attention and he took a moment to collect his thoughts. He could clearly remember the revelation and promise from the evening before, and he must have stared at her too long, because the girl grew a bit uncomfortable.
He knew she was going to get out of the bed as soon as she rolled away from him, but he put his arms around her, holding her to his chest, pressing his face against her hair. "Erin, we have to talk," he said quietly. "There are things you have to understand."
He heard her swallow, but she thankfully didn't roll over to look at him. "Kieran, let me go," she said, her voice a bit weak.
"You won't run?"
He felt her stiffen in shock and then she shifted, hitting him in the shoulder as best she could from her current position. "Don't be an idiot," she snapped and he smiled, releasing her. She stood, straightening her rumpled clothing. She wasn't looking at him, as if she'd read something in his eyes and wasn't certain what to make of it.
He sat, bracing his elbows on his knees and running a hand through his hair. He wasn't certain how to explain everything that he had to. He wasn't accustomed to having to explain himself. After a long moment, he stood, beginning to pace. She must have felt his agitation, because she was watching him out of the corner of her eyes and he could see something he'd almost call concern. It made him want to laugh. "Erin, what do you think is going to happen to you when we get to my father's court," he asked finally, leaning back against the window and looking at her.
She blinked, looking at him fully, a frown on her lips. "I guess I'll be ransomed for my father's kingdom..." her voice trailed off as she stared at him and he wondered if she didn't read a little of his despair.
"No," he said softly. "My family does not kidnap and ransom. The way that my father took over other kingdoms was to take their heir and kill them, inciting war. He usually won. He's acquired a great deal of power that way, and when Oberon took notice, it was because my father wasn't really satisfied with the Unseelie courts any longer. The Goblin King also acts as Oberon's chief strategist, and he led his army against my father's. My brothers and mother all died in that attack. My father has wanted revenge for the loss of his own true heir ever since."
She was moving towards him, eyes wide, innocent. "He means to kill me? To try to take over?"
He nodded, lifting his face. "Want to run now?"
Her lips were pulled into a little frown and she stopped, looking up into his face. She'd always seemed so small, so frail to him. Mortals were delicate, short lived creatures, so while he'd noticed the backbone, he'd always likened it to her fae heritage. Now he was seeing something else, a sort of stubbornness that was unrecognizable. Her small fist balled up and she punched his shoulder again, this time hard enough to hurt. "I thought I told you not to be an idiot!"
He stared at her, and then gave a faint chuckle. "So what do you want to do, kid? If we go forward to my father's kingdom, you'll be killed. I...I want to protect you, but I've no idea how to do that."
She pursed her lips, pondering. Then, her eyes widened and she looked up at him. "You're offering to let me go?"
He nodded, seeing the stunned look on her face was somewhat refreshing. Her eyes were so wide, and her lips were just a little parted. "I'm giving you the chance to escape. To run to your parents, to survive."
That obstinate look again. "What would happen to you?"
"That doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head. Another fist to the shoulder and he was pretty sure that this time, she left a bruise. "Damn it, kid, stop that!"
She grabbed his shirt, looking him in the eye, a fierce look in her own. "If I run, and you go back to your father empty handed, what happens to you?"
He gave a shrug, a grim smile. "I'll be executed, of course. Small price, it's been a half-life for me, anyways."
"It's not a small price to me," she said evenly, and he sobered, looking down at her. "Kieran, you're the best friend I've ever had. You kidnapped me, you aren't always very nice, but you've protected me, made sure I had food, bought me clothes and stuff. You laughed and joked with me."
"Erin-"
"My life, my choice," she said evenly. "We're both clever, so between the two of us, there has to be a way to convince him not to kill me." She began to pace, a frown on her cheeks, her wild hair falling around her face since it was free of the clip.
He rubbed his forehead, knowing she was right. It was her choice, and there should be a way to spare her life, while convincing his father-
He focused on her, keeping his mouth shut. He knew a way. He just couldn't tell her yet. Her reaction would be crucial. Her anger, her outrage. He couldn't tell her until after he'd sprung the trap, himself. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he looked at her once again. "Erin, do you trust me?"
She lifted her face, looking up at him in surprise. Then, her mouth split into a mischievous smile and she gave him a nod. "Yeah," she said. "I do."