After the months he'd known Erin, Kieran thought he wouldn't find himself flabbergasted by her behavior any longer. He'd seen her angry, sweetly charming, undeniably excited, tearful and even frightened. He'd seen her cocky, confident, self-assured. However, the Erin he found himself currently facing he wasn't quite certain what to make of.
"What are you doing, again," he asked, feeling a bit exasperated.
She glanced at him over her shoulder, then returned her gaze before her. "Meditating," she replied, her voice quiet and holding an air of calm that it hadn't the evening before. She was sitting on the end of the bed, her back straight, her legs crossed, hands on her knees. Her breathing was slow and even. Her hair was pulled up off her neck, and clad in a white outfit that was definitely more function than form. The white top crossed over her chest and tied with a black belt at her waist. Her pants were also white and ended mid-shin. Her hands and feet were currently bare.
"Shouldn't you be...I don't know, hiding," he grumbled a bit. It really wouldn't kill her to play the damsel in distress once in awhile. "I'm supposed to be the one protecting you. You're twelve years old and a girl besides. I'm a fully grown man. It's my job to defend you, even your father thinks so-"
She stopped, turning and kneeling on the bed facing him. Her face wasn't irritated, it wasn't even annoyed. She was gently smiling at him. "No, Kieran. My father told you to protect me so that you would stay here instead of trying to go down and fight while you're still injured." Dammit all, when she wore that kind of expression, she did not look twelve. "Alastar is leading the troops at the entrance to the castle, Dad and Mom are down at the battlefield and you're hurt."
She lowered her face, seeming to be thinking very hard about something. "I'm strong enough to do this. I can't be a wife yet, not really, but I can do this." Her head lifted and he stared at her, surprised. Her eyes were those of a child once more.
Gently, he reached forward, caressing the hair on the side of her face. "Erin, what are you talking about?" Why did she look so scared, so fragile?
"Dad said the marriage is official by your laws, but I'm not ready to be a wife yet." She shifted in discomfort, lowering her face and seeming embarrassed of uncomfortable.
Dammit, Goblin King, he thought, feeling a bit bitter. Was that why she'd been so unwilling to spend time alone with him. "Erin," he started, but she drove ahead, speaking loud enough that she could be heard over him.
"This is something I can do. I can do it because I'm your friend and I care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone before." She lifted her face, which was faintly flushed. "You're the best friend I've ever had, Kieran. I can't go through it again; being afraid that you're not going to wake up. So I can do this."
He set his hand over hers on the bed covers. He couldn't argue with that. Well, he could, but there wasn't much of a point. Once the girl's mind was set, there really was no changing it. His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand and he sighed heavily. "Then I'll make a deal with you, alright?"
She frowned a bit, her brows scrunching together, her lower lip pushing forward into a pout. She looked confused.
"I'll let you protect me, if I am allowed to do the same for you," he said quietly. Her lips popped open to object, but he set a finger upon her lips. "Darling, I cannot sit by and watch you sacrifice yourself for me. Especially when it is my fault that you are in this situation." He took a heavy breath and searched her eyes. She looked faintly annoyed. "I promise you, Erin, that I wont go diving in to get myself hurt. I'll only move if it looks like you can't handle it on your own, but I deserve that much."
Faint understanding in her mismatched eyes. A half-hearted annoyed smile turned up her lips. "You're a bully when you want to be."
He gave her a warm smile, and kissed her brow gently. "So I've been told. Is it a deal?"
"What are the chances of you staying in bed and out of the fight if I say no," she quipped, looking up at him.
He smiled wryly. "About zero," he confirmed.
She sighed softly and her smile changed to one that was honest. She shifted, sitting closer to him and resting her cheek against his chest. "It's a deal."
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
Sarah suddenly understood the history lesson that Jareth had been giving her since that morning. It had been customary in the Underground for centuries to walk to mid-field and parlay with the attacking army, a decision that has stopped one or two wars in their tracks, but somehow Sarah knew that wouldn't be the case in this one.
Sarah stood beside and slightly behind Jareth and the strange steed that they'd rode here upon. Behind them were a small troop of goblins, keeping this parlay honest. She watched the small approaching group of soldiers, bearing the weight of their leaders palanquin. "That is not a smart man," she muttered under her breath and Jareth barked out a rough laugh.
"Indeed," he asked.
"Considering that he's exhausting four of his troops by making them lug his ass across the field, yes. Slimy looking bastard, too. Maybe it was because I didn't know what manner of person he is, but then I didn't get a great look at him during that ball."
Jareth chuckled in amusement. "Most likely he was using a glamour to make himself more appealing to the ladies and less like the sewer rats beneath the Goblin City." He glanced back at her and she snorted faintly, just for his benefit. He didn't seem to notice. Instead, he reached back and snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her up to his side.
She blinked rapidly as he did so, confused. "Jareth, what are you-"
"You are the champion of the Labyrinth, my friend and my lover. Your place is not standing behind me on this field – it is beside me. You are not my subordinate, you're my equal. Take pride in that, precious." He spoke quietly, his eyes looking into her own, as if he were begging her to understand what he was saying.
Stay with me.
She would have continued that conversation, but just as she opened her mouth to speak, she heart footsteps on grass and found that the palanquin was much closer and that the weary soldiers were setting it down on the ground. Out of the corners of her eyes, she saw Jareth's face had settled into an expression of cool disdain, his back straight, his cloak fluttering in the stale smelling wind.
She forced her own face into an expression of passive interest as the man stepped down from the palanquin and then moved towards them, his troops standing back just a bit, as if to be respectful. As if there was something about this man to respect.
He stopped, looked over her in disinterest with his muddy, yellow eyes. His dark brown hair hung, limp and oily around his sallow face. To say he was unattractive would have been kind. Finally, his eyes flipped towards Jareth. "Surrender and spare your people the death I bring upon them," the obviously over-confident man. The other men looked just as arrogant and sure of themselves as Fachen.
Jareth's lips curled into a malicious smile that caused a shiver to run up her spine. It was a gentle smile, but the glint in his eyes was absolutely terrifying. Even to Sarah, who had seen him yelling and raging. "So, Fachen, how did your people take the knowledge that you stabbed the former king in the back? Or did you turn around and shovel the blame for his death onto me and mine?"
The four men behind him went incredibly pale. Jareth hadn't tried to be particularly quiet about it. In fact, Sarah was pretty certain he spoke that loudly intentionally. "Ah, but I suppose it would have been easiest to push blame on someone there that you wanted out of the way...someone like Alastar. Simple enough to claim he was a traitor, when he was Bram's most loyal supporter."
Whispers behind Fachen, whose cold expression revealed nothing. No grief, no anger. Only confidence and certainty of victory. "I do not know of what you speak. Alastar killed the king, stole his signet ring which is rightfully mine, and fled. Why flee if innocent?"
"Tsk," Jareth chastised, then shook his head in mock sadness. "And you used this to make a stupid decision to attack my lands. You know, a good and steady hand could have led your people back to the greatness and power they once possessed. Instead, your cowardice and foolishness is going to completely destroy them.
Sarah had had enough of the pissing contest and the frightening glint in Jareth's eyes. "Are we through pissing on each others feet yet," she finally snapped, drawing attention of all the men and goblins. "If the two of you keep this up, we're going to have to put the battle off for another day." Jareth's eyes warmed and he gave her a look of amusement. Fachen, however, had a look of complete hatred on his ugly face.
He pointed at her, revealing a jagged, yellowed fingernail. "You should put your bitch in her place!"
Sarah saw Jareth's expression slip towards total fury, but her body had responded before the others, before her brain even tracked her movement. Her sword slipped out of the sheath with a hiss of metal against wood, and was resting against his throat, gently caressing the skin there. Her hand was steady, unwavering. "I'm no one's bitch," she snarled softly.
Shock on the faces of Fachen's men. Their hands were on their swords, but they didn't pull them from their sheaths, obviously reeling from everything else they'd heard. The goblins were behind her, egging her on. It was gratifying.
Jareth's hand gently touched her sword arm and she held it against the man's skin for a moment longer before she lowered the sword to her side. "Pray, you coward, that you do not meed with me on this field; because if we come face to face, I'm going to make you hurt before I kill you."
The men were pale as they all moved back to the carry cart. She didn't tear her gaze away until they turned around and headed back towards the other line of soldiers. Finally, she glanced towards Jareth, who was looking at her speculatively.
"Remind me not to piss you off when you're holding something sharp," he said, wryly.
She slipped the sword into her sheath and bared her teeth at him in a parody of a smile. "Did I overstep myself," she asked, curious.
"Lover, it was quite gratifying to see Fachen nearly defecate on himself at the edge of your blade – although I admit, I was a bit disappointed that I did not get to stand in defense of your honor."
The deep melancholy was in his mismatched eyes.
She lowered her gaze, her smile slipping away. They hadn't gotten a chance to speak about the topic of her staying, due to interruptions and his refusal to broach the topic himself. Stupid idiot man...fae...whatever.
Obviously, she was going to have to spring it upon him when he least expected, she decided.
She watched him gracefully mount his strange steed before he leaned down, offering her his hand to assist her. She didn't need the hand, but she took it regardless, straddling the beast behind him.
It had a face like an elongated snake and downy green fur growing long and shaggy on it's body. It gave off the curious odor of maple syrup as well, and two large, spiraling horns growing from it's head. It's chest was scaled and there was a puff of longer fur around it's face and on it's prehensile tale. Still, as awkward as the thing looked, she'd noticed that the animal was quick and agile enough to maneuver the Labyrinth's more complex areas without trouble.
Sighing softly, she wrapped her arms around the man's waist, feeling his heavy bone armor under her hands. She couldn't feel his shape or warmth, but she took comfort in the motion and rested her cheek lightly against the leather collar of his cloak. After a moment, a gloved hand slipped over her own and his fingers tangled with her own. She relished the contact and smiled softly.
The trip across the field was made in silence and Sarah suspected it would be their last moments of peace for awhile. True enough, once they were on their side of the field and Jareth dismounted, he began shouting orders to his troops, his mind filled with battle. "I want dwarves holding this line. I want no one to get past you all and into the Labyrinth. Dig in and hold it, do you understand," he frowned darkly, looking annoyed. "I can't believe that bastard brought fae into this. It's going to stink up the whole field as soon as the first one falls."
She frowned faintly, remembering their prior conversation regarding the smell of fae blood. "I was wondering about that. Why would they bring the fae into a fight like this? Wont it affect them as much as us?"
He looked up at her, as if just noticing she was still on his mount. He reached up, assisting her dismount. "There are two possible reasons. The fae standing here genuinely believe they are attempting to protect their kingdom from my invasion, which will change once those young man take the possibility that Fachen is the usurper back to their end of the line." He set her on the ground, a faint frown tugging at his lips. "More likely they're trying to hide something. If it were me, I would use the stench to sneak someone past our defenses and into the Labyrinth. Someone who has an alternate form with a strong sense of smell or the ability to fly would get through the Labyrinth rather quickly, and then up to the castle."
He glanced back at her. "While you were quite successfully making Fachen piss himself mid-field, I noticed there were some golems on their side. He set them back so they'd be less noticeable, but they're rather large and impossible to completely hide. "I'll need your large, hairy friend to deal with them." He turned inward and she knew he wasn't thinking about anything but defending and attacking.
"Is Kinga gonna kiss'er," a goblin broke the silence, as well as the thoughts of the Goblin King.
Sarah watched Jareth snap out of his daze and realize quite suddenly how closely they were standing and where his hands were resting at her hips. She was also certain he noticed she wasn't trying especially hard to get away from him. "Well, Jareth? Are you going to kiss me?"
His eyes warmed in amusement and he leaned towards her, bringing his lips close to her ear. "Maybe later, precious." When he retreated, she noticed the sad light that had been haunting his eyes had faded to something less melancholy. His grip moved to her hands and he lifted them, kissing each in turn. Then, he released her, turning towards the group. When he spoke it was with authority. "Hoggle, take the fieries and attack their right flank. Didymus, take a troupe of goblins and attack their left. Sarah and I will lead the main force." His eyes flickered towards where Ludo was lumbering in the shadows. "Ludo, I have a special task for your rock calling friends."
Sarah decided to not mention that the Goblin King had just remembered the names of all three of her friends, and hadn't mispronounced them. It wouldn't do to sting his pride right now when he was so volatile and changeable. There would be time to poke fun at him later.
Jareth extended a hand, taking his helm from one of the goblins. The black bone gleamed in the light. He slipped it on as the group split off, set on their individual tasks. Hoggle caught her eyes, giving her a faint smile and wave before he disappeared into the Labyrinth. The king stood beside his steed, fiddling with the straps of the saddle. She moved towards him, smiling until she saw the serious look on his face. "Is something wrong?"
He turned towards her, as though surprised to find her there. "No, precious. Nothing." He hesitated a moment, his face growing serious once again. "Sarah, I ask that you stay by my side during this battle. Do not do anything reckless and get us separated. If I cannot see you, I cannot protect you or help should you need it."
She stepped towards him, pressing her hand to the side of his face. "Always so convinced that I'm going to just disappear on you, aren't you," she chastised softly, unable to keep the sadness out of her voice as she spoke. "So little trust in me."
His eyes snapped towards her face and she met his gaze, unwavering. Then, he gave her a weary smile. "Erin said nearly the same thing to me just the other day." His hand came up, cradling her own against his face, as if it were something delicate and fragile. "After the battle, love, I have something I need to ask of you. However, for now, let us let it go."
She frowned, drawing her hand back. "For now," she agreed, but let him see her displeasure. He didn't complain about it, did not object to her pulling away from him. She knew he was trying to sturdy himself for her deciding to leave him, bracing for rejection. She turned half-away from him, forcing herself to ask a question she'd dared not ask him. "Jareth, what happens when a fae and a human in a relationship like ours part?" She glanced back at him and saw him freeze from the corner of her eyes.
He lowered his head, a grim expression on his face. "I have never, myself, witnessed it. So, please, do not ask me this, Sarah."
She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to take a deep breath, only opening her eyes when she heard the horn from across the field, calling for the attack. She stepped up beside him, threading her fingers through his. He glanced towards her in surprise and she lifted her face, looking at him. "You're not getting out of this conversation after this battle is over. Even if I have to tie you to the bed to have it," she quipped, seeing his eyes widen and the faintest hint of flush color his cheeks.
Then, his lips curled into a smile that caused her to shiver out of something that was not entirely fear. "Why Sarah, I didn't realize you were into bindings...so many things we've missed out on so far," he teased back.
Her own cheeks colored and she would have smiled again, but a movement from the corner of her eyes drew her attention. "It's begun," she said softly.
His eyes moved across the field as well, focusing where the unseelie were charging towards them. Jareth mounted the steed and offered his hand. "Come, Sarah, let us end this."
She searched his eyes, and set her hand in his. "Yes," she agreed, letting him pull her onto the back of his mount. Her sword wasn't practical for a mounted weapon, especially since the man in front of her was using one, so she accepted a bow and quiver of arrows from one of the goblins. "I'm ready."
Jareth lifted his sword above his head and the blade gleamed brightly in the light. Following their king's silent command, the goblins rushed forward around them to meet the other army.
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
Slipping past the main force of the goblin army had been easier than he'd thought. Quietly, Fachen stood back, watching the small troop of goblins that were defending the gate with Alastar at their head. There was no denying that the man was a powerful force in battle. Normally, he would have hesitated in tangling with anyone of this man's battle prowess. However, the man was already heavily bleeding, and Fachen knew that he would not survive the battle. Sneering faintly, he slipped through the gates, silent and invisible to those already caught up in battle.
Some of the battle had already spilled within and there were fae soldiers laying dead on the ground, bodies mixed with those of the goblins that had fallen. He didn't care. They were disposable soldiers, only needed as long as they were useful and thrown away once they could no longer be used.
The goblin city was little more than a slum, save for it's grand size, and with a little creativity and imagination, he was certain that it would clean up well enough. He would knock down or remodel the houses so that they were suited for fae inhabitants, would have the remaining goblins that stood against him throw into servitude, forced to scrub the place clean.
Upon reaching the castle, he found himself briefly impressed by the imposing structure. The Labyrinth would have to be torn down and destroyed, but the castle would do nicely as a residence. Once again, it needed a good scrub-down to get the layer of goblin filth from it. The faint traces of glitter that seemed made into the stone was an eye-sore as well.
Moving within, he found that the inside of the castle wasn't particularly clean, but there had been some effort to scrub away some of the dirt. Yes, with enough funds and the right hand, this place could be one of intense beauty. However, being left to the goblins and their king – who obviously didn't really care about it's appearance – left the place in squalor. Chickens were scurrying back and forth, pecking who knew what from the ground. The crown in the throne room had a vulture nesting in it. The drape around the back of the throne was tattered, yet clean.
The entire structure, disgustingly filthy though it may be, was a damn sight finer than what Bram had forced him to live in.
Yes, once he ousted the current ruling monarch and dealt with his little problems, he'd be certain to have some wenches go through and give it a thorough cleaning. He wouldn't have goblins clean this. He didn't want them anywhere near the place.
Moving from one hallway to another, he found himself in the living quarters and for a moment, he thought he'd stepped into a different castle. The whole area was immaculate. Not a speck of dirt or a single chicken scurried down the corridor. It looked like the place had it's own maids to handle the cleaning. Strange. Everything else was a wreck, so why was this area so tidy.
It conflicted with everything he thought he knew about this kingdom. The only thing he could surmise was that the goblins must not be allowed into the suites and bedrooms, which he supposed made sense. After all, who wanted to sleep in a bed full of goblins?
One of the doors was slightly cracked and he moved towards it silently, hearing soft singing from within the room. From the bed, he could see a single goblin leaning over Kieran, who appeared very pale and yet his face was dotted with sweat.
The one singing was the child of the Goblin King. She was dressed in strange garb, her hand lightly wrapped around the prince's. It wasn't a lullaby, and the language was none that he recognized, but there was a sense of peace around the two. His hand tightened around the grip of the sword, and he set his hand flat upon the door. He couldn't see any weapons near them and wanted to laugh. Leaving their two most important chess pieces unguarded. Ah, but Jareth was an over confident bastard.
Eager to shed the blood of his enemy's spawn, he pushed the door open hard and stepped into the room. The soothing song stopped and the girl straightened, turning towards him.
Her honey-blond hair was tied back, but the shorter pieces hung wildly around her head. Her two-toned eyes met his own without fear. She reached towards the table beside her, picking up a pair of black gloves that she slipped over her hands. "I was wondering when you were going to get here. Took your time, didn't you, ass hole?"
Then, she smiled at him and for the briefest moment, Fachen was afraid of a twelve year old girl.
.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.
One inevitable and universal truth about war was that no matter what your age, race, or sex, when you stepped out onto the battlefield, you might die. It was hot, messy, chaotic, and ultimately fatal. In fact, it was guaranteed that even should you survive the battle, you would unlikely come away from it unscathed. Even the Goblin King had his scars, both on body and soul.
He was fortunate to have acquired a chimera as a steed from the High King several wars ago. It was a agile mount, was nearly indestructible, and put him at chest level with the attacking trolls, the tallest of the enemies they were facing. It heavily shifted the odds in his favor for close combat, and with Sarah at his back, it was even more so.
He had a psychic link with the beast, so it would move as commanded without having to be guided by his hands or told what to do. Because of that, he could keep it steady enough that it hadn't thrown Sarah off of it, even as she fired arrows off behind him, shifting periodically, her thighs tensing and relaxing. His lover had settled with the beast just fine as well. And because of that, he could make sure that Sarah would come out of the battle whole and healthy.
The three of them made a surprisingly good team, Sarah sending arrows to the creatures that had not yet reached them, he dispatching the ones that got close but were larger than the chimera, and his mount felling ones that got in the way of it's fangs and claws.
Unfortunately, as is often the case with fighting while mounted, one does not usually stay such. Eventually, the beast was surrounded, and he felt hands gripping him, pulling him sideways off the beast. Sarah swore with sharp precision and he heard her sword leaving the sheath. "Sarah," he called, half-turning in time to see her pulled off the beast as well, but in the other direction. Away from him and out of sight. Fear-fueled rage poured through him and he drove his heart directly into the heart of the troll which had dismounted him. "SARAH?!"
"I'm FINE," she shouted back at him, her voice filled with more irritation than fear. "You deal with yours and I'll deal with mine!"
He gave himself the briefest moment to feel admiration for her. The woman was strong, both in heart and body. A chuckle escaped him as he slashed through his next victim, felling a young fae male with a slash across his throat. Pissed too, from the sound of her swearing. His smile became wild and he continued slashing at creatures, fighting his way towards Sarah.
The thick scent of blood filled the air and he was feeling a blood lust coming on, greatly spurred by his inability to find Sarah. Several times he thought he saw her, covered in blood, swinging her sword like a goddess of war come to ground, her long dark hair flowing around her. Every time he caught the barest glimpse, he began fighting his way through the throng in that direction, determined to reach her side.
He did so just in time to stop a fatal downward blow from striking her back. He shoved the foolish fae away from her, slicing once across his chest, then stabbing his sword deep into the man's chest, sending blood spraying across himself and Sarah Williams.
A slender hand grabbed the collar of his armor and he snarled as he was pulled around. Finding himself facing Sarah, he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the blood thirty feelings racing through him. He never saw Sarah put the shield around them, but when he opened his eyes, he found them safe inside an iridescent bubble. She was panting from exertion, as was he, and for a long moment they simply stared at each other.
Finally, she spoke, her voice slightly husky. "Jareth, when this is all over, you owe me big time," she managed her words between deep breaths.
He lowered his eyes, casting his gaze away from her. They were safe for the moment, shielded by the woman he loved. A woman he was terrified was going to tell him that after this was over, she would go home, would leave him. He took a deep breath and released it.
If you love each other, why can't you trust each other?
He didn't want to talk about this, not now, when so much was at stake, but she was forcing the issue. So he decided that he would set aside his pride and trust her. Even if it took her away from him. "What boon would the lady prefer," he asked quietly, unable to meet her gaze for fear of what he would see there.
He missed her wild smile. He was forcing himself to focus on the sounds of battle around him instead. Besides, she wasn't talking yet. Her other hand came up to rest upon his shoulder and finally her voice met his ears. "A lifetime of incredibly fantastic sex," was her answer and before he could feel shock at what she'd said, her lips were upon his and her tongue pushed into his mouth.