Chapter 16.

Quinn recuperated in the arbor, his head fell back and rested on the carved back of the high wooden seat. He took long deep breaths, taking control again from the weakened Jareth. He placed a hand on the head of the weeping girl. "I'm sorry, Sarah." He gasped for air. "He stayed out as long as he could."

Sarah's head was resting on his lap; she did not try to halt the tears. "He was in so much pain. How could no one else see that?"

"They aren't looking for it." Quinn ached as he spoke. "Your being there helped him cover the difficulties." He continued to stroke her long hair, comforting her.

Sarah pulled back and stayed in a position of what some passer by would think was supplication. "You must be suffering as well, my Lord Quinn." She addressed him formally, almost coldly.

Looking down on her with narrowing eyes, he felt the sting of her coldness. When only a moment before she had been feeling warmth and concern for Jareth. Now she was addressing him with hostility. He knew her resentment of him had been boiling for quite some time quietly. Incensed at her foolishness he reached down and yanked her up into his lap. She struggled against him for freedom, making him laugh. "Time to work off a bit of your debt, Sarah."

The girl went limp, "What?"

"Your debt to me, woman, you recall don't you?" Quinn knew Jareth had gone deep into the place where he would heal, he could not hear or see or feel what was transpiring. Roughly, he pulled her against him.

Sarah looked panic-stricken. "Quinn…no… please…Not after I have just …seen…" She gasped. "You can't ask me to kiss you…not now."

Quinn's hands began sliding over her, stroking her as if she were his cat. "No, Sarah, I couldn't…and I'm not…That payment will wait for the right time…I was thinking more along the lines of the payment you owe me for allowing Karen to keep her children."

"You told my father I would remain chaste…" she gasped.

"I have no plans on…deflowering you, darling…" He teased. "Just want to get…familiar." He slowed his movements, feeling the reactions she did not wish to acknowledge. "My, my…" he growled. "Daddy's little girl likes what old Quinnie can do for her. What Quinnie can do to her. " Ashamed of the feeling Quinn awoke in her she closed her eyes. "Open your eyes you little witch and look at me." He ordered.

Sarah opened her eyes, looking directly into the stormy eyes of the Goblin King. Increasingly she saw the heart of the blue flames. The face was darker, less buoyant, more moody.

Quinn shifted his weight; she fell back into the crook of his arm. "Admit you take pleasure from my touch, Sarah. Admit you're attracted to me." When she locked her lips, he frowned. "Stubborn mule." He muttered, as he lowered his face to explore the line of her neck with his tongue. When she moaned softly, he repeated his solicitation. "Admit, it Sarah."

Her head fell back as she found herself arching. "Yes…damn you…yes."

Smoothly Quinn eased her up, cupped her chin gently. "Payment received."

"Damn you." She whispered.

His hand left her chin, and migrated down to her throat. "Damn you too, Sarah."

He looked at her with serious eyes. "And damn Jareth for putting us in this position."

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Robert had seen the pair walk down to the arbor and disappear into the dark foliage. It was all he could do not to march out to the garden and drag his daughter back from the Fae King. He was still staring out the window when Ryan came to his side.

"Don't do anything you'll regret, Mr. Williams," the boy advised.

Robert looked at him, loathing in his eyes. "What do you know about it?"

"I know the look of desperation, sir." Ryan stated calmly. "I assure you, it would pain me to have to restrain you. However, our king does not welcome interference when he wants time alone with his consort."

"Consort." Robert snorted.

The young Paladin nodded. "He intends to wed her."

Contemptuousness filled Roberts eyes and his voice. "And you believe him?" Robert scoffed. "What makes you think he's not in that garden right now, having his way with my daughter?"

Ryan was offended, but more then that he was outraged. "You are descended from the Fae, you of all people should now they have a code of honor. He has said she would remain virtuous, and virtuous she shall remain."

"If my daughter believes that, she's as big a fool as you are boy." Robert spat at him. "But then, you're really no better than your…King…are you? You and that little red haired harlot are playing the same game the King and Sarah are." He walked away before Ryan could make a declaration.

Anne saw Ryan's face change as he the man left him. She came over, concerned. "What did he say to you?"

"He gave me food for thought, Anne…" Ryan extended his arm to her. "I think we'd best have a serious discussion, my love."

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Quinn noticed that Sarah had not rushed from his arms or his lap as he eased his grip on her. He began to stroke her throat. "Sarah." He knew the way his brother said her name, and found he had to say it the same way, caressingly.

"You sound like him," she admitted with heartache and vexation. "You look like him, but you are not him, Quinn. You will never be him."

"There is were you are wrong, baby." He said smoothly.

"Do Not call me baby!" she rebelled.

Quinn continued to stroke her throat as if they were having a perfectly normal and calm conversation. "When this merge is finished, baby, there will be just one. One body, one mind, one soul, and two lifetimes of conjoined memories."

Sarah looked at him with distrust. "I don't like you, Quinn."

"That's a lie, Sarah." He said smoothly. "You do like me, oh not like you like Jareth…but you do like me."

"No I don't!" she protested.

Quinn smiled ran his finger tips down her spin and watched her gasp, then arch. "Yes, my dear…. You do."

Sarah looked away, shaken by his ability to cause her such a reaction. "That's not…"

"Fair." He finished for her. "You say that so often…" His words were silenced by her fingers on his lips. When she moved them, he whispered. "It's late, and I'm very tired. Letting Jareth be out took a great deal of energy. Let me walk you to your door."

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Solea had not spoken much since they had arrived at the Goblin King's palace. She had been quietly watching, now that she and her husband were in the relative privacy of their own suite she spoke freely. "Just what is the problem betwixt you and the Healer?"

Cairbre raised a brow, and made a face. "Were we that obvious? Here I thought we were rather civil."

The Water Sprite shook her head, "I know you better than most, husband."

Holding his hand out to her, he drew her to his side on the divan. "It goes back to before the birth of the shattered soul… although most only know of our…conflict from that point on. The majority of our conflicts are over the shattered soul."

"Go on." She urged. "I want to understand this."

The Bard found her desire to help most alluring. "He was the attending physician, directing the midwives at Quinn's birth."

"I see. I know you were the Bard of record at the births." Solea patted his hand. "What has his being the attending physician have to do with your…feelings toward him?"

"I wish I could answer that, my dear." Cairbre said softly. "Alas, I can not."

"Who was the attending physician at Jareth's birth?" Solea began drawing the correct conclusion, the only conclusion. "Was it Talbot?"

Cairbre nodded.

"And the plot thickens!" She uttered breathlessly.

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Talbot seated in his study, was making more drawings; he had left the dining hall directly after the dinner. His work on herbs and their uses was of far more interest to him then Court intrigue. He did not look up as the older master entered. "Was it all you expected it to be?"

Phineas looked over the younger Healer's shoulder at the work. "Aye, it was as I thought it would be. With the exception of the Kings attachment to that …young woman." Phineas took a seat. "I would have thought that Quinn's aversion to mortals would have impeded the bond."

Talbot kept at his work. "She is the daughter of a descendant of a Nephilim."

"Indeed." The court Healer considered his options. "I think I should interview them together the first time." He rose to go to the room he had been given. "I wonder which of the shattered souls will appear for that."

Talbot bid his one time master good night. When he was alone he picked up a sprig of Heather, turned his wrist and the fragrant sprig vanished. He had sent it to the Lady Sarah's room. Phineas may have been his mentor, but he had been in the service of the Goblin King for long enough to understand where his loyalties lay. He knew the herb would protect from Sarah evil spirits, unwanted attentions, and allow her peace. Talbot closed his eyes and smiled.

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Quinn's grip on Sarah's elbow prevented her from escaping the moment they were in the Royal apartments. He walked leisurely to her door, and kissed each of her cheeks chastely before wishing her sweet dreams. He turned to find Meep eye level.

"What?" he asked with drained tones.

"I'm still keeping an eye on you." the Pixie warned.

Quinn, too tired to fight, waved the annoying little creature off. "Go take care of the girl. I'm too tired to even try to molest her." He wandered down to his room, greeted by the hound awaiting his return he smiled wistfully.

Meep went in to Sarah. He watched as the girl went though the motions. He fretted over her. Having her family near by should have made her happy, not disturbed.

Sarah let her maid help her change from the evening court gown to a lawn nightgown. Tári took longer than usual brushing out Sarah's hair, wanting to give the girl time to talk if she felt she needed to. Sarah remained introspective and withdrawn. Just before turning the lights off, Tári opened the doors of the balcony.

In the darkness, a soft sound, familiar and comforting floated into the bedroom. It was a song, a sad and haunting song of a nightingale. The song accompanied the faint and comforting scent of Heather in the night air.

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Quinn lay in the center of the bed belonging to the King; beside him lay the hound that was quickly becoming his best friend. He buried his face in the long hair, and listened to the soft sounds of music in the air, the song of a nightingale. Quinn closed his eyes and allowed sleep to come.