The Goblin King's Daughter
By: DemonSaya
Chapter Seven
It wasn't a castle like Erin had pictured. Then again, her view of castles was probably a bit skewed from the time she went to Europe with her mother. This was more like a large manor, and the courtyard was littered with drunk, dirty men who looked to her like soldiers who had seen better days.
Kieran walked behind her, holding another tether that was wrapped around her hands, binding them behind her. He hadn't spoken much since they'd left the last town, looking rather unhappy, irritable, not to mention downright pissy some of the time. She would have found the situation funny if they'd actually come up with some form of plan the evening before.
Yet they hadn't. She also had the nagging suspicion that Kieran was keeping something from her. There was something close to desperation on his face and she wanted to give him some kind of comfort, any kind, however, she could not do that now. Not before the leering eyes of the men who were in the courtyard.
It took forever to cross it. She couldn't deny the discomfort of all those eyes staring at her as they moved. The distance between herself and Kieran wasn't helping matters, and she found herself starting to shake a little. She felt the hand on her shoulders give a gentle squeeze.
The doors to the manor were opened before them and she was pushed into the large, open, main room. Kieran's hand lingered on her back for just a moment and she swallowed. She gasped aloud, fighting against the bindings.
The room was plain, the throne wasn't so much that as a roughly carved chair larger than the others in the room. The man upon it did not share Kieran's good looks, and there was a hint of madness in the hazel eyes that which were looking down upon her with hatred. She shuddered, hanging back, wishing Kieran would slow down, give her a chance to find her backbone again.
"So, you were successful? You've brought me Sarah Williams?"
She heard Kieran swallow and winced as he forced her to her knees. "No, I found something better than Sarah Williams when I went above, something that will drive the king of the goblins insane to lose."
The king was on his feet, furious. "You dare to show your face before me after failing?"
Kieran stood over her and she saw his hand trembling a bit. "I did not fail! I bring you the daughter of the bastard king! Before you is Erin Williams, the daughter of Sarah, the Labyrinth's conqueror, and Jareth, King of the Goblins!" He thrust out a hand, pointing at the old man. "Do not accuse me of failure, you senile old bastard! I am the only son you have left, and that makes me your heir, regardless of the tasteless tasks you set before me!"
She heard the upset in his voice, recognizing that he was hurt that his father didn't love him. There had been no welcome, just intense interest in mission, the desire to complete it.
There was silence. "A daughter," went up the whisper, several people leaning back and forth.
"That is impossible," sneered one member of the court. "It is well known that the mortal champion has not returned to the Underground, and Jareth has spent countless years hidden away within his city, not traversing to the above to even pick up a wished away child."
"After your failure during the war, why should we believe you? You're just a broken little tool who can't even assassinate a young fool king like Jareth."
Erin was on her feet before Kieran could stop her. "Impossible you say? Impossible, tra la la? Oh, how is it possible that this little mortal girl could be the daughter of the Goblin King." She inclined her head to the side and gave a faint smile. Her hands still bound, she rolled one, a crystal suddenly sitting upon her palm. She rocked her hand and it rolled up to the tips of her fingers and she looked over it at the king before her.
She could feel even Kieran's shock and she bared her teeth in a snarl, and then threw the crystal at the ground, letting it shatter into millions of pieces. "You don't know a thing. You don't know me and you certainly don't know my mother." She leaned forward, ignoring Kieran for the moment. "Let's say your pet prince had kidnapped my mother," she said, inclining her head to the side. "She's a fully grown woman, and she defeated the Labyrinth. Do you really think that this little boy would have been able to keep his hands on her?"
There was silence as she stood there, panting for breath, both angry and terrified. She felt a hand hit the side of her face and went to the ground, staring up at Kieran in shock. The strength of the blow had knocked her to the floor, and Kieran stood over her, his face difficult to read. He wasn't looking at her and she felt the first fear slice through her. He was betraying her – betraying her friendship. She snarled up at him. "Prick!"
There was suddenly laughter from the man beside the throne. Everyone looked towards the standing there, and Erin saw a glint in those eyes that spoke of madness. "A mouth like that, I'll have to believe you. It reminds me of listening to that toy king. Perhaps you're dream borne. That would explain how the bastard managed to have a child without become a King Fisher." He turned to his son. "You've done well, Kieran..." The sound of metal leaving wood, and she whirled, finding the king had drawn a knife that was strapped to his belt and fear filled her. "With her blood, we will incite war with the Goblin Kingdom, and he will be so grieved by the loss of his daughter, it will be an easy victory."
The man was tall, taller than Kieran. He knelt, his hand curling into her hair, jerking her head upright, baring her throat, and she felt cold steel against her throat and she swallowed hard. The blade dug into her skin a bit and the tang of blood filled the air. Her eyes met Kieran's, in time to see him grab his father's wrist and wrench it away.
"Are you insane?" Kieran snapped. "More than half of your fighting force was destroyed during the last war with the Goblin King!"
The man's eyes turned wild with fury. "You'll fight me on this!"
"I'll fight you on destroying what is left of your kingdom, yes!" Kieran wasn't looking at her, but she didn't have time to worry about that. Tears were coming to her eyes, and her entire body was shaking with fear. "If we kill her, we will not just cause grief, we will cause rage, and the Goblin King will destroy us."
Those eyes, tinged with madness grew more lucid and the old man looked up at him, clear-eyed for the first time since Erin had seen him. "You have an idea."
Kieran gave a smile that seemed cruel, but to Erin it looked sick. Nauseous. "A hostage is useless when they're dead. How far will the Goblin King go to keep his dear little girl safe? Of course, to convince the courts that she's a guest and not a hostage, we will have to hide her purpose behind something else."
The king's eyes flashed, glancing towards her. "I could make her my new wife. That would sicken the Goblin King well enough..."
"No," Kieran said, his voice sounding calm. "She is too young to provide healthy offspring, and it would look to the courts like the revenge it is. Give her to me as a bride. With this, if Jareth does try to retaliate against them, the council will be on our side this time, because we are within the terms of the surrender. They will prevent Jareth from moving against us." he still wasn't looking at her, but she felt horror grabbing her.
What the hell was he doing?
"I won't marry either of you! I'd sooner die!"
A slashing look from the man she'd thought was her friend silenced her and she swallowed fear, realizing that she'd played right into his hands. "I hate you," she whispered, feeling a sharp pain in her chest. "I hate you."
The older man laughed and released her, tossing her to the ground. "Very well, son. It looks like we were wrong about you all this time. You'll make a fine king yet. We can't hold an official ceremony yet, but you can take care of the little details by yourself, right?"
"Of course. I've got enough experience to deflower a child," he scoffed, and Erin felt his hands jerk at the tether, pulling her to her feet in the most painful way he could. The pretense of the gentle friend was gone and she found that the pain in her chest was almost debilitating. It felt like she'd suffered a wound to her spirit, to her very soul and tears were falling down her face.
They reached a door and Kieran opened it, his hand curling in her hair as he heaved her inside. She hit the floor and lay there on her side, hating him, hating herself for trusting him. The sound of the door closing was ominous and she heard the sound of a lock clicking into place. She lifted her head, about to scream obscenities at the man, but he looked tired and beaten. It shocked her enough that she wasn't able to speak.
Her friend stood there once again, his face worn and weary and hurting. His eyes fell upon her and he quickly looked away, moving around the dark room, lighting candles, closing the heavy velvet drapes. When that was done, he came towards her.
When he was in striking distance, she kicked him in the shin, pleased when he swore in pain, going to his knee. He grumbled something she couldn't hear, tussling with her on the ground, trying to pin her and she fought back until she smacked her head against the floor and with a startled cry she went limp. When she went relaxed, Kieran sat up, a hand going through his disheveled hair.
He didn't touch her further, didn't move towards her, he was just sitting beside her on the floor, his hand thrust into his hair, his head lowered. "I figured you were going to be pissed off about this solution," he said softly. "It was the only way I could think to protect you from him, though. If you were just a hostage, you'd be in the dungeon and the guards would probably rape you."
She stared at him, wide-eyed. "You had a plan? This whole time, the past three days since you told me what was going to happen to me, you've had a plan? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"
He sighed, lifting his head finally, looking as hurt as she felt. "I couldn't. Your reaction would be crucial. I needed you to be so angry that you'd fight against me. I needed you to hate me, or I couldn't protect you."
She sighed, exasperated. "I could have faked it! I mean, my mother was a better-than-average actress, and heaven knows I've manipulated her since I was old enough to know what I was doing-"
He turned towards her, his face irritated. "My father is insane now, but he is still ruthless and can smell a lie. A faked reaction would not have worked, even if it was well-acted." Her jaw dropped and she scooted towards him, setting her bound hands on his arm. "They're hungry for blood. They won't care much how it's gotten, or whether it's your life or your innocence that is taken. I'm just...relieved that he isn't so lost in the madness to not listen to me..."
Erin looked at Kieran in the face and said bluntly. "Kieran, I like you, but your father is one creepy piece of work."
Kieran looked startled at that for a moment, then his head fell back and he laughed, long and hard. "That he is, kid. That he is." After a moment, he stood, moving towards a dark corner of the room. He opened a small door, reaching within. When he withdrew his hand, in it was a small, black bird. He hastily grabbed a paper and a quill from the desk in front of the window and Erin watched him scribble something on the paper.
"This is one of my friends," he said quietly. "They act as carrier birds, taking messages to and from whoever I need." He rolled the paper, slipping it into a small tube that was around the bird's ankle. He opened the window and gripped bird gently between his hands. "Take this to the Goblin King," he said, then released it.
Surprise caught her, and she lifted her face, looking at the man. "What did you write?"
He paced a bit, his hand at his temple. "A message to say that you are under my protection and that I will keep you safe."
Erin stood, moving towards him. "Can you untie me?"
He looked at her in regret. "You're going to have to pretend that I raped you, you realize?"
She gave him a biting grin. "Just keep in mind that I'm a fighter, prince," she said, keeping her voice on the friendly side of mocking. "So if you don't mind a bit of pain, we can have the whole complex convinced that you're raping me."
He looked mildly ill, but he smiled regardless. "Just don't kick my balls to your father's kingdom, alright? I like them where they are."
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
Sarah followed Jareth cautiously. They'd crossed over the border the day prior, and Jareth had gotten a little irritable since then. He'd explained that unlike the ones they were tracking, who were in safe territory, he was unable to go into the towns, which was where they needed to go. Hence they'd been keeping rather heavily to the trees.
During the evenings, pretense of anger had been let go, and Jareth would hold her in his lap as he dozed, apparently ignorant to her musings, of her watching his beloved sleeping face. They were both looking rather worse for wear at this point. Jareth had dirt smudges on his face, and his hair was more wild than normal. "We should be gaining on them, right?"
Jareth sighed heavily, looking towards her. "Sarah, they're able to take the clear roads, the fast routes back to that kingdom. I cannot. You know this."
"But if that other king gets his hands on her..." Sarah wrung her hands out, tense with worry for her daughter. Two hands rest gently on her shoulders and she looked up into Jareth's face. "I can't lose her. She's been all I've had for so long..."
He kissed her forehead tenderly. "Worry not, darling. They may not plan to kill her. Likely they'll use her as some sort of hostage. They wouldn't want to directly start a war with me again. I would lay waste to their land, and I'd take their king's head myself. That idiot boy must know that. He will do what he has to do to protect his kingdom. Part of that will mean keeping her alive."
She shuddered. "She's just a kid, Jareth. What if she gets..."
"There is nothing we can do from here to stop it. All we can do is try to get her away from them as quickly as possible-" His eyes lifted skyward and a raven landed upon his arm. They both stared at the bird for a long moment and the bird simply stared at Jareth from its black eyes. It fluttered its wings and shifted its feet, which is what drew her attention to the tube on its ankle.
"Jareth! On its leg!" She swallowed hard as his eyes dropped towards it and his hand lifted to open the tube.
"Carrier raven, is it?" Jareth frowned at the musing, pulling a small piece of paper from the tube and unrolling it. The bird immediately took off, its message delivered, disappearing among the canopy. Jareth stared down at the paper, a baffled expression on his face. "Erin is safe, I'll protect her...?"
"What?" Sarah walked over, taking the paper he had in a loose grip, reading it. That indeed was all it said, although there was a sharp, angled 'K' signed at the bottom as well. She lifted her gaze, looking at the man, just as perplexed as he was until she saw understanding dawn upon his face.
His head tilted back and he started laughing. "Oh, she is your daughter, isn't she?" He wrapped his arms around her and Sarah felt the uncomfortable sensation of being crushed and when she was released, they were standing in the throne room at the Castle Beyond the Goblin City.
"Jareth! What are you doing?" Sarah pulled away from him, looking up at him, baffled and confused.
He pointed at the letter. "That boy, the kidnapper? His name is Prince Kieran, and his other form is a raven. That carrier raven was from him." He laughed aloud, wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her about. "Don't you see, dear? Your daughter has developed that amazing ability of yours to wrap royal fae males around her little finger." He kissed her soundly, setting her on the ground and springing away from her.
"How do you know he's not just lying?"
Jareth paused, looking towards her. "Darling, if he was lying, he wouldn't have hastily scribbled this on a love note from his last lover," he said, turning it in her hand. "It has the subtle scent of rose hips. A bit tasteless if you ask me."
Sarah arched a brow at him. "Are you referring to the scent or writing this on a love note?"
He broke into a broad grin. "I was referring to her sending him one, actually. It doesn't kill a youth to make them work for it." He took the note from her hand and flipped it over, reading it. "Oh, how cliché..." he mumbled as he moved towards the large throne she'd somehow missed her first time in the castle.
"Jareth! Just because she's safe now, doesn't mean she'll stay that way! Why aren't we still going for her?"
"Because, darling, if we go into that kingdom, it will put you as well as Erin in danger. If his family should find out that he's betrayed them, they will kill him, and us going there would only compound this. We can only bide our time until Kieran is ready to smuggle her out."
"How can you know that?" She paced, frustrated with the male that – for some reason that she couldn't always fathom – she was in love with.
He sighed, sprawling into the throne, the hand with his letter dropping to his lap. His face was exasperated, and she could tell he was trying to be patient with her. Good, she was trying to be patient as well. "Because, love, he obviously wants to protect her, so when his family finds out that he's protecting her, rather than harming her, he'll be forced to run, and in order to protect her, he'll bring her with him."
She sighed, moving towards him again deciding to let the topic drop. She eyed the throne he was draped across, arching a brow. "Speaking of tasteless...are you going to have a matching throne made for your queen? Because if you are, you might want to feminize it a bit..."
When she looked at him, he was arching an eyebrow. "You mean you don't like it?" There was a pouting tone in his voice that caused her to almost smirk.
"No, I can't say I do," she said, tilting her head to the side a bit.
He leaned forward on his elbows, a light in his eyes. "You can't rightly say that until you've taken it for a...test drive, so to speak."
She snorted at his phrasing, and walked towards him, her eyes challenging him. "Very well, highness," she allowed. "Let's test it out-"
As soon as she was close enough to grab, he pulled her into his lap, smirking wickedly. She let out an indignant shriek that sent the nearest goblins running for cover, and immediately began to struggle.
"Now, now, precious," he chastised lightly. "In order to properly test out the throne, you must do it from the lap of the ruling monarch. I'm afraid that's a rule." She barely heard him in her ire, her wiggles not really getting the desired response. She didn't really want to hit him, but she wasn't certain he'd give her a choice. "Dearest, your struggling – while futile – is about to make your seat much less comfortable," he said wryly.
She froze instantly, turning slowly to look at him, heat suffusing her cheeks. The bastard just sat there and smiled at her. After a moment, he shifted, freeing one hand and tapping her chin.
Her jaw clacked shut.
He sighed softly, his arms wrapping around her as he leaned back in the throne, his hands adjusting her to increase his own comfort, putting her on one thigh, her legs thrown across his lap, her head tucked against his shoulder. "I suppose a word of good will from one side deserves the same from the other..." He rolled his hand, a crystal appearing on his fingertips. Sarah watched as he lifted it to his lips, and blew it.
It turned into a bubble, floating on the air and she watched, mesmerized.
After a long moment, Jareth said quietly. "It is not very kind of you to go tossing the word queen about when you know my feelings for you."
She blinked, and then glanced towards him, suddenly nervous. "Jareth..."
He looked towards her from the corner of his eyes, a small frown on his lips. "I suppose I haven't asked since you've been back. I won't go into the speech I gave last time I asked, but I need you to understand that if you want to be with me even a little, I will accept you and our daughter with open arms and no hesitation."
Her heart fluttered and she looked into his feral, mismatched eyes, her heart aching. "And if Erin wasn't your daughter? Would you have accepted her then?"
He looked at her as if she were daft. "Darling, the child would have been yours regardless. I'm old enough to know that I cannot ask a woman with a child to be mine and expect her daughter to stay behind. I would have more than accepted her; I would loved her like she were my own as well." He gave her a rueful smile. "It's a professional hazard to be fond of children," he confided.
She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against his. "I don't know, Jareth...I just don't know. Can you...wait until we have Erin back? I'm afraid I'm going to be pretty useless until then..."
He inclined his face, kissing her lips lightly. "Consider it done, darling. But I expect an answer, yes or no, even if you decide to leave. Give me that much respect."
She swallowed hard. "I will," she promised, kissing him back just as lightly, to seal her promise.
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
He'd done all he could, Kieran decided, standing by the window and letting the raven land upon his arm. He stroked its head gently, half-ignoring the girl that slept in his bed. After staging the rape, he'd gone to eat and collect a plate of food for Erin. They'd kept her plate sparse, as if to say that she wasn't worth feeding, so he had them fill a second plate for himself and returned to the room, setting the full plate in front of her and snacking upon the rest.
He'd learned in that first town that she had a voracious appetite, one that would make all humans and most fae grow overweight. Yet this kid was still wraith thin and looking hungrily at his plate when her own was clean. He chuckled softly, glancing towards her.
It was good that he'd done the staging before he'd gone to get food, because after he'd left, a servant entered to clean up the mess. Erin was quite the little actress, lying in the corner, trembling. When he'd come back after receiving both praise from the court and dirty looks from the servants, Erin stood in front of his wardrobe, digging through it for a new shirt. The wounds she insisted he inflict were already faded to ugly yellow.
The only reason he wasn't still beating himself up about the wounds was because he had several bruises of his own fading on his ribs and shoulders, where she accidentally struck out at him in retaliation. He rubbed one of the fading bruises and smiled ruefully. The court was in for a nasty surprise. After all, Erin certainly packed a nasty punch.
Silently, he put the raven back in the coop, then moved towards the bed, sitting on the edge. A few of the maids had brought in suitable female attire and it had been obviously discarded in a pile in favor for the shirt she'd retrieved from his wardrobe, and he could see the white shoulder reached midway down her arm. He couldn't help but wonder how she was going to react about the planned 'wedding' that his father was currently arranging.
This girl; who hated skirts, who swore like a sailor, who knew how to throw a better punch than some men – this girl – was going to have to attend a ball, wearing one of those large, poofy concoctions that women here seemed to favor. He didn't really have to wonder. He'd seen firsthand how she would react to such a thing. Gently he pet her hair, looking down at her young face.
She stirred a bit, yawned, and then rolled towards him. "Kieran," came her sleepy murmur. Her mismatched eyes opened and she looked up at him. "Did Wes come back?"
He frowned. "Wes?"
"The raven. I named him Wesley."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yes, he returned. The note is gone. I only hope that your father has faith in me. He doesn't really have any reason to." He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as he caught a tangle from so long in the wild. He lay back on the bed beside her, one hand pillowing his head as he looked towards her.
She must have seen something in his eyes, because she suddenly looked wary. She pulled the blankets up to her chin, looking at him, a bit nervous and uncomfortable. "Kieran," she said after a long moment. "Why did you help me?"
He blinked, surprised at the question. He stared at her, and he pushed a hand into his hair. He could tell her the honest answer – that he'd probably fallen in love with her the second he'd set eyes upon her – but then the wariness in her eyes would only increase. He was much older than her, and he doubted she would understand that this blindsided him. With a huff, he reached over, ruffling her hair. "Hell if I know, kid," he fibbed, then closed his eyes. "Go back to sleep, Erin."
He could feel her staring at him for awhile, before she shifted closer, pressing her face against his side, burrowing in. He shuddered – shuddered – and gently put his arms around her, taking comfort in her presence at his side. She didn't say anything else, but he knew she was awake. He could feel the side of his shirt growing damp where her face was pressed against it and he knew she was crying silently.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. Her hand curled into a fist in his shirt and he rolled over, drawing her against his chest. "Please, don't cry."
"I'm not crying," she lied.
"Right," he countered, resting his chin on her head. "It'll be okay, Erin. I'll protect you. And somehow, I'll get you back to your mom." He sighed heavily, closing his eyes. "Don't worry about a thing."
She nodded, and continued pretending not to cry until she fell asleep once again.
He sighed when she finally relaxed and stroked her hair gently. Even someone as strong as Erin would crack eventually. If crying was how she needed to unload the stress, then he would let her cry on his shoulder every night so that she'd be strong enough to make it through the next day. At least until he figured out how to get them both out of there.