The Goblin King's Daughter
By: DemonSaya
Chapter Eleven
Fachen stood slightly behind King Bram silently fuming, watching the party goers swirl around the room. His eyes continuously found where Kieran, the new heir, was standing with his new bride. If not for that stinking rat of a boy he would have become the heir, would have inherited the throne. He was more suited to the responsibilities of being king, not that stupid bastard son who should have been killed on the battlefield when his bitch mother had fallen.
He didn't like his father's brother, Bram, either. Only a fool would have put that bastard on a throne, but obviously, his father's line was rich with fools. It was ridiculous to become so attached to anything that insanity would grip you when they died. It was obvious, especially now, that sentimentality was Bram's chief weakness.
He, however, wasn't tied by such foolishness. His own father had been a trusting, sentimental fool as well, clear up until the man had fallen with Fachen's own blade buried in his back. He'd done what he had to do. His father had the nerve to try to tell him that he was unsuited to the small title the family carried. Something about him being power hungry and half-mad.
He wasn't mad. He just hated watching countries run by people without the spine to solve the problems in it, ones who were so lost in madness they couldn't see the manipulations of others. Well, he had a spine, and he was lucid enough. He couldn't entirely disagree with the statement of being power hungry. After all, he liked power, which was part of the reason he'd been so furious when Kieran had walked into that receiving chamber with a much better boon than simply the champion of the Labyrinth.
It was fortunate for him that he'd gone riffling through Kieran's drawers today and found the one that was curiously locked. Kieran had never, in all his time, seen fit to lock his personal effects away before. But, now he locked his room when not in it and also locked the top drawer of his bedside table.
Locks were something easily dealt with by someone like him. He'd found the secret correspondence that had been hidden amongst the drawers contents, but now was not the time to reveal it, not with the bitch's father and new husband still around, still able to protect her.
Traitorous fool.
He'd almost been fooled by the act. If not for the girl's own actions, he would have been convinced, so authentic was Kieran's performance. Fortunately for him, that girl wasn't acting nearly fearful enough of the young bastard to have been raped by him. Those with a keen eye for the behavior and cared to noticed could tell- he could tell. Although some kidnap victims developed a dependence upon their abductors, almost seem to fall in love with them, this wasn't the case with them. She seemed to be wary of his cousin, but she still trusted him far too much. To him, it seemed that Kieran was the one dependent on her; with close observation one could see the affectionate looks he would bestow unwittingly on her.
Also, Kieran was far too protective of her. The one time he'd attempted to weasel a dance out of her to make certain if she was chaste or not he'd been thwarted by being told that the girl was eating. While that appeared to be true by the sheer amount of food on the plate the girl held, he knew it was also merely an excuse to monopolize her.
To anyone else, it would appear that he was simply guarding his territory, warning other males away. Monogamy wasn't something always embraced in the Unseelie courts, after all. However, there was too much warmth, too much affection when Kieran spoke to her. There was faint wariness, but an equal amount of exasperation. Somehow, during their trek from the Labyrinth's outer edge to this kingdom, Kieran had become obsessed with the girl.
If not for that one fact, he'd have leaned back and watched this drama play out before killing off the future king and queen and assuming the throne himself. It would have given him a few more years to enjoy the freedoms of being a man with a small title before embracing the responsibilities of a real ruler. After all, to betray the father whose boots you'd always licked showed more spine than he'd believed Kieran capable of having, and hatching such a brilliant plot in such a short time was quite interesting.
He'd never expected Kieran to take such a drastic grab for his father's throne.
Still, he would have to be eliminated before he caused any more trouble. That was fine, though. He would deal with the bastard soon enough. And there was nothing Bram enjoyed more than dealing with traitors to his crown...
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
It was late and Sarah was swaying on her feet when Jareth finally suggested they retire to the inn which catered to the fae aristocracy in this area. She'd hugged her daughter gently, watched as Jareth kissed the girl on the forehead and then she was ushered into a palanquin that Bram had provided to take them to the inn.
It had all seemed too simple, not the convoluted mess she'd been expecting, and that troubled her greatly. Now she sat, bouncing along beside Jareth, her hand holding onto his. "Well, did it live up to your expectations," she asked after they'd been riding in silence for quite a while.
Jareth blinked as though she'd startled him and looked towards her. His lips turned up into an exasperated smile. "Are you referring to your dress, my daughter, or young Kieran?"
"I was talking about your little play at being a covert spy," she retorted. "Although, I suppose I'd like to know your opinion about the others as well."
He barked out a laugh and leaned towards her slightly. "Well, I thought I made my opinion of the dress very clear before we left my castle. However, if you need further proof that I find you utterly ravishing in it, I suppose I could demonstrate-"
She knew she blushed. She could feel the heat pool in her cheeks as she grabbed his wrists to prevent him from distracting her. "Jareth-"
He huffed. "Oh, fine..." He sighed, slipping his arms around her, holding her reclined against him, which put his lips near her ear. "Erin is everything I could have imagined, showing your defiance and my own innate love of chaos. Kieran is a sound young man and in several years will be an admirable ruler, regardless of what his own people think of him." He went quiet for a moment, and she felt her skin tingle, which made her suspect that he was using magic.
"What are you doing?"
"Shielding the inside of this palanquin. I suspect the only reason Bram parted with it so easily was the hope that he would have his own spy in the front seat. Regarding the rest, from what I can tell, the court is in chaos. Bram has named Kieran his heir, which is a surprise – to them all. Before this he would send the boy on little missions and such, things that no royal family member should have to dirty their hands with..."
Sarah turned her face towards him, seeing shadows in his eyes. "Like what?"
"He sent Kieran to assassinate me. It's common among the Unseelie courts when a bastard is birthed. They become a shadow, used to take care of missions that other royal fae wouldn't lower themselves to do, but were too important to leave to mere peons. The only reason he failed is because I do not sit idle by while my country stands the possibility of being threatened. Oberon commanded I move against Bram, and so I did. My lands straddle the border between the lands of the Seelie and Unseelie. Because of that, it's been one of my duties to protect one land from the other. Bram was allowed to move in freedom as long as he didn't try to step into lands where the Seelie dwell.
"I had it on good authority that he was planning on attempting to take not just the Seelie borderlands, but my own as well. It might have worked if he hadn't attempted a seizure of both at the same time. Oberon's weapon came down upon him and crushed his invasion in a single day." He shrugged faintly. When he spoke again, he'd moved back to the original topic.
"Now we sit, seemingly oblivious, in a transportation device provided by Bram. If you were he, what would you do?"
Sarah pondered that for several long moments, her lips pulling into a frown. "Probably have the driver take us off to some remote location to do away with us, and then drive the bodies some place public so that it's obvious we're dead. After that, I'd likely try to stick the boy I consider my puppet prince onto the throne of the Goblin King, now that he has legitimate claim through his marriage to Erin."
"Indeed," he said quietly. "And because of that marriage, no court in the Underground would challenge his right to the throne." Jareth sighed. "Besides the issues the court has with Kieran being named heir, which means he will eventually be in charge of all of them, there is Bram's nephew, Fachen. That one is shrewd, and I suspect he's the one who killed his father. Rumor has it, he's very displeased that he's been over-looked for the inheritance of the throne, and as a result is being more prickly than usual."
Sarah frowned deeply. "You think he'll move against Kieran?"
"I think that this kingdom is rich with people who would love to have a hand at killing the young prince, and even more who would like to claim having killed me, just for the reward. Ah, precious," he murmured into her hair. "I'm not sure I should have brought you along..."
She drove her elbow into his rib, drawing a startled yelp from the sovereign. "If you ever consider leaving me behind like some damn princess in a tower, I'll make sure Erin is your only child."
He gave her a shrewd look and a sharp smile. "You would, too," he agreed. "Alright then, darling. We need to think of a plan in order to throw off this little fool who thinks he can take on the Goblin King and his champion."
She gave him a small smile and twisted around, kissing him lightly. "Very well, your highness."
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
Parting with her mother and father was melancholy, but Erin knew why they couldn't bring her with them. She stood beside Kieran watching them get into the palanquin, trying hard to not let anyone else see the pain and upset from watching her mother's worried face disappear as the cart rode away. Her friend stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder.
To anyone else, it probably looked like he was restraining her, but she could feel the way his thumb gently stroked her shoulder, trying to comfort her without showing the others what he was doing. Now, she waited in his room for him to join her, to show her that note that he'd mentioned during the ball. She'd bid out immediately after her parents left, and Kieran had escorted her to the room before moving to rejoin the ball, as was expected of him. It turned out, that it was not uncommon in their culture for the woman to turn in early on the wedding night, to prepare herself for the marriage bed.
As if she needed any preparation, she snorted faintly, running her bare hand lightly over the starlight fabric. For the first time, she had a dress that she truly didn't want to see damaged.
She'd taken off the dress, laying it with gentle care over the chair that sat in front of the desk. A week of trying to get into and out of dresses by herself left her capable of doing so without tearing the fabric. She didn't really have a choice. She knew that Kieran would have helped her, but she wasn't quite comfortable enough with him to let him take her clothes off and they didn't want to risk having a servant do it.
Perhaps Kieran was right, even dresses like this had their place in the world. She would have had to have been blind to not see the admiration on Kieran's face each time his eyes had fallen on her in that dress. She sobered a bit, pulling a chemise on over her head and laying out a vest and trousers for the next day.
He'd said that falling for a child hadn't been his plan. She was not as naïve as he probably thought, but this was a huge gray area for her. She'd just gotten a love confession from a man who was a century old that very evening.
Granted, physically he was probably only twenty years old, but that wasn't the point. He'd had years to gain experience in the field of romance, and she had not. In fact, though the boys in her school looked at her with something resembling interest, they were too frightened of her to actually attempt such a thing. She had no immunity to deal with that. Maybe that was why her heart had been doing such odd cardiovascular calisthenics lately.
Her heart recognized that look, had known what it meant and while her mind was reeling, her heart rather liked the idea. It wasn't like the slightly malicious boyish attraction she saw in the eyes of boys from her world before they dropped a hand-full of worms down the back of her shirt. It was something mature and heart-wrenching and, dare she think it, romantic.
It had come as a surprise to find that he felt something like that towards her, regardless of her not really minding. Deep down, however, she found herself both excited and frustrated with the idea. After all, he acknowledged that she was in no way ready for a relationship. Still, if she had to be in one with someone, she wouldn't mind trying it out with him. Maybe not the more intimate parts, she was just twelve after all.
But she didn't think she'd mind trying a kiss.
She blushed faintly, shocked that she'd even thought of that. Feeling guilty, she flopped down on the bed and looked down at her clenched hands. Apparently, she'd been wringing them for quite awhile, because the skin was starting to turn pink and her fingers hurt. Her eyes drifted away from her hands and she caught sight of the bedside table and the drawer that was slightly open and askew. She frowned a bit and pulled the drawer open fully, finding it empty.
It was odd. Kieran, who was usually unkempt in a casual kind of way, was almost compulsive with his room. Everything that had a door or drawer was closed firmly. Clothing was set out neatly for the next day. Soiled clothing immediately went down the chute, unless it was formal wear. He didn't keep clutter around. There had never been a time when she had seen his papers strewn or the drawer ajar.
A knock sounded at the door and she froze, midway to walking towards it. Something she could only call instinct caused her to retrieve and pull on the trousers she'd worn during the ball on beneath the chemise she currently wore. She rarely wore shoes in this room, but her feet slipped into the comfortable leather boots as well. She didn't know why she was being paranoid, but as her mother often said, better safe than sorry. She moved cautiously towards the door as a fist struck it once again, this time in anger.
She jumped, feeling the faintest slash of fear.
She needed a weapon, something to defend herself with, but she had nothing but her hands, so those would have to do. Later she'd talk to Kieran about letting her carry around a knife holster of some kind. Cautiously, she moved towards the door, trying to drive down the urge to flee. She couldn't run yet. She wasn't going to just abandon her friend. She wasn't that kind of person. So she gripped the doorknob, opening it, trying to appear timid and afraid. It wasn't too much of a stretch, regardless.
Bram stood there, looking down at her with a look of unholy hatred bright in his eyes. Nausea churned her stomach and she swallowed hard. As the door was shoved open and she stumbled back, one thought passed through her mind: Kieran, where are you?
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
Kieran was moving back to his room when the odd sensation in his stomach began troubling him. Fachen was standing in the hall when he'd left and he'd been unable to escape conversation with the cousin. Still, his eyes kept darting down the hall, feeling his nerves scratching away.
"Worried about your little innocent wife?"
His eyes flashed towards his cousin and he swallowed hard. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Well," Fachen began pacing around him, wearing a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. "Play ignorant if you wish. I know your little secret." Kieran's eyes snapped towards his cousin and when he knew he had the prince's full attention, he sneered. "The girl is chaste."
Panic made him feel sick, and the scraping sensation on his nerves was growing worse. "What is this idiocy of which you speak?" He wasn't certain how he'd maintained his calm, but he did.
Fachen stopped in front of him, in his hand a slightly crumpled piece of parchment. There was a look in his eyes that screamed of victory, of knowing he'd won. "'If you set one hand on my daughter, I'll remove them'," he recited, looking amused. "Imagine my surprise when the little runt always seeking his daddy's affection has suddenly turned the traitor..."
He went pale, staring at the parchment. Now, at least, he understood why he felt so much fear racing through him. She was in trouble. He'd known. "You...who have you told?"
The other fae smiled wickedly, and a cruel chuckle left him. "Just who you would suspect. My king. After all, to not tell him while knowing such a thing...would make me a traitor as well..."
Kieran glanced left and right, seeing guards moving down the hall towards him. Fachen's hand grabbed his shirt, and there was a soft laugh near his ear. "You should have died on the battlefield with the rest of them, you toy-prince..."
The words from his cousin were punctuated by a shriek of rage and fear and his stomach dropped out completely.
Anger filled him suddenly and Kieran moved sharply, grabbing Fachen's arm and twisting it. His ears met with the sound that reminded him of a dry branch snapping followed by a hysterical scream of pain, but he didn't care. Erin was in danger because of this bastard. The guards were rushing towards him, but he'd already changed his shape, flying just out of the reach of their hands, his wings black beating hard as he hurried towards his room, where Erin was waiting.
Upon arriving at his door, he could hear the sounds of fighting within, the sound of hands striking flesh, Bram's voice filled with anger, Erin's own filled with an inhuman sort of fury, the sound of cloth tearing and he changed back again, kicking down the door. Just as he passed through the frame, he saw Erin's closed fist strike his father's temple, and the man hit the floor, passing out instantly.
The chemise she wore was torn half-way down the middle and there were several bruises forming on her face and arms. There was a severe bite mark on her neck and her eyes were glassy with panic and rage. She looked half-wild and extremely vulnerable. Beneath the bottom hem of the nightwear, he saw the bottoms of her leather trousers, and lifted his gaze to her face once more. He dropped to the floor, pushing his father's unconscious body out of the way and drawing her to his chest. "Are you alright," he asked, perhaps redundantly.
She shuddered against him and her hands curled into fists against his chest. She didn't speak, but she nodded, a sharp movement.
He closed his eyes, nodding in return, and then stood, helping her to her feet. "We have to leave," he said, taking her with him as he moved to grab his travel pack. She briefly pulled free of his gentle grip and left his side and he felt faint panic grab him. He turned towards her and saw her already standing before the door to the crow cage. After a moment, her eyes turned towards him.
"I'm not leaving them."
He might have stopped her, but her eyes were filled with defiance, and he mourned what might happen to them if they were left behind. Her small hands threw the cage open and the birds, which were already likely spooked from the attack on their mistress bolted, flew immediately out of the open window.
He turned his back to her, shoving some clothes into the pack and finding two more of the vials with the sugar-syrup in them and shoving those in as well. A glance towards Erin showed she'd abandoned the chemise and was mid-way through putting on one of her blouses. He saw a dark bruise marring her ribs and swore, hoping that it was merely a surface bruise and not something more serious. Moments later, she was dressed, with a dirk shoved into the belt of her pants. "Ready? The guards will find us soon."
She nodded and he offered his hand, which she took and they ran for the door.
He could hear the uproar his childhood home was in, knew they were being chased down. Lucky for him no one really knew where he would run whenever he was in trouble. The only person who had known died on a battlefield many years ago. He drug Erin to the back stairs which led down to the kitchens.
Mab was already waiting for them, standing at the cutting block, wrapping cheese, bread and some dried mean in a large napkin. She looked up as they entered, not surprised at all. She finished tying the bundle and moved towards them, a sad smile on her face. "I suspected as much. You have to run now." She set the bundle in his hands and he looked at her in surprise and sadness.
"Mab-"
"Go, you foolish boy, before the guards or that poisonous cousin of yours discover which way you went. You have to protect the princess, do you not? Old Mab can take care of herself." She smiled at them, and then moved towards the stove where it smelled like she was making gruel. Or boiling laundry. "Head towards the old oak," she said, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Keep to the trees. They'll have more trouble tracking you that way than her father. His tracking skills are not to be underestimated."
Erin looked towards Mab. "Why are you helping us?"
The old woman gave them a knowing smile, and then turned back towards the bubbling concoction on the stove. "Go quickly."
Kieran would have moved towards her, but there was no time. Quickly, he pulled Erin from the building and he knew somehow that he wouldn't see this place, or Mab, ever again.
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
Plan decided upon, Sarah and Jareth had settled into wait and they'd been relaxing for quite awhile, when suddenly Sarah sat rigidly straight and her hand clutched his. Jareth looked at her through narrow eyes, a faint frown pulling at his lips. "Sarah, what's wrong?"
She turned towards him and he saw her face was pale, tense. "Something's wrong. I think...Jareth, Erin's in trouble."
Gently, he set his free hand on hers which still clung to his own. There was panic in her eyes, fear. He searched her gaze, knowing that this was beyond motherly instinct. Obviously, he was going to have to have a talk with his queen about a few more things than he'd planned once this was over. "You're certain?"
She looked towards him, her hands shaking. "Jareth..."
She was panicking. She was not suited to panic, he decided. It did her complexion no good whatsoever. "Darling, Erin has been in trouble since she set foot in the Underground. As long as young Kieran is at her side, have faith that she is alive and well."
"How can you be so sure?"
He gently cupped her face, searching her eyes. "Because he loves her, Sarah. At least half as much as I love you, which you can believe is a great deal more than any mortal man. When one of our kind falls in love, it is not simple, tidy, and it never fades. So you can believe that if Erin falls, then it will be due to Kieran falling first, for if we find one, we shall find both, likely alive or dead."
She squeezed her eyes shut, taking an unsteady breath. He watched as color slowly returned to her face and she chaffed her arms. He shifted, putting part of his cloak around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. "For now you need not worry. If they follow the instructions I left behind, then they will be fine."
She took an unsteady breath and looked towards him. "Alright, Jareth. I trust you."
That sentence caused his heart to stumble a bit and he looked up towards her moss-green eyes, seeing that she spoke with sincerity. Silently, he leaned towards her, watching as her lips turned into the faintest smile and her eyes closed. A shuddering breath left him and he slipped a hand back into her hair. "Sarah, you will drive me mad," he murmured against her lips.
"Is that bad?"
He chuckled. "On the contrary, darling. I imagine I'll enjoy the vast majority of it," he said with a smile, feeling her own lips echo the feeling. "Hmm...would it not cause a scandal, I would tear this dress off of you here and now and have you enter that inn wearing nothing but my cloak."
"Tempting offer, highness," she murmured, her hand running lightly across his thigh. She opened her mouth to say something else, but their world was suddenly thrown into chaos as the palanquin started to tip to one side and Jareth heard the driver scream in panic. He instinctively wrapped his arms around Sarah, shielding her head as they were pitched over along with their ride.
He heard Sarah whisper a denial, and waited for pain, but instead, he felt nothing, even as they were tossed end over end, until the contraption came to a stop. Jareth lifted his face, looking around, finding the carriage was completely decimated, and yet somehow, he and Sarah sat in the middle of the wreckage, completely unscathed.
The driver was dead, that much was obvious. His body was mangled, limbs bent at unnatural angles and there was a large portion of his head collapsed in on itself. He shielded Sarah from having to see that, turning towards his lady, who was staring around them, slightly dazed. "Did you do that," she asked quietly.
"I was under the impression that you had, darling," Jareth said, glancing around them. "Well, I suppose this could be an accident, but I had forgotten that Bram likes to play dirty. It stands to reason that those who believe in fair sport wouldn't fully understand him..."
"You're fair," Sarah inquired.
He frowned at her. "Most of the time, when I've got little to lose. I couldn't afford to be fair with you."
She gave him half a grin and tried to stand up, causing Jareth to lunge forward to catch her when her knees gave out moments after her feet were under her. "I'm tired...I wasn't tired before..."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Don't worry about it, darling. Just close your eyes. Rest for a moment. I will carry you." He didn't fancy waiting around at the scene of the accident for someone else to come along and try to finish the job, so he scooped up the limp Sarah Williams and began hiking.
"Can't you just...poof us off somewhere?"
He glanced towards her. "Transport magic requires energy relative to distance. The farther the distance, the more magic it takes, and as a result, it would drain the area and anyone in it of energy." He tried to keep the explanation for something so complicated simple. "That, in turn, would turn this area into an energy void, making our location much easier for any other assassins to track."
"Ah," she mumbled. Jareth glanced down at her as he moved through the thick brush, feeling it rip holes in his cloak. He didn't care. All that mattered was that Sarah was still safe. He leaned down, kissing her forehead, breathing her scent deeply. "You did well, precious. I'll explain the rest later. For now...just sleep..."