Chapter 30.A Solstice on Avalon

The Goblin Kingdom's representatives were to arrive on Avalon's shores in a style that was unlike anything the ancient Isle Kingdom had ever witnessed. Fanfare and spectacle were something the Fae knew well, and expected. However, never before had the Goblin Kingdom put on such a show; Jareth hand never seen a need to. If and when he attended a state function, he usually arrived on his own and departed quickly. Yet since his declaration before the courts in the presences of his subjects, he was beginning to see the need to make a statement with his arrival.

He and Devon had arrived alone with only personal guards for Samhain. This time he wanted to dazzle the senses of the Fae Court. He desired that there be something more spectacular than even his arrival on Dragon back. This time the Goblin King needed to arrive in a state coach, and with proper attendants. From the moment he'd employed Donatien to train Sarah; he'd been working on the rest of his staging of this production. It had been Philo who had supplied the King with the seeds of the idea, and Philo who had informed the King that everything he needed for a truly unforgettable arrival was at his fingertips.

Jareth had asked Philo to open the west wing rooms that had been used in the training of Zoltarie's human slave. Philo had been more excited than the King had expected him to be, but Jareth had not asked the man what it was that was driving that excitement. Hours after the arrival of the Guild's members, Philo reported to the King in the circular throne room.

"The Guild has arrived, my King." Philo tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robes.

Jareth, lounging in the massive throne smiled. "Good," he tapped his chin with the riding crop in his hand. "Once the girl is properly trained she will make quiet a spectacular addition to my train on Solstice." He sighed. "It's time the High Court got a good look at the Goblin Court."

"Indeed," Philo agreed. "And what better way to demonstrate your authority then with a beautiful Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan upon your arm, just as the last Goblin King did?"

Lowering his feet from the side rail swiftly, Jareth looked at the steward of his palace in surprise. "Zoltarie and his Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan attended the High Court?" The Goblin King shook his head, "I don't recall any mention of that."

"It was a bit before your birth I believe." Philo commented lightly. "But it is a part of our lore, and some of us remember the story well."

"Tell me," leaned on his thigh, motioning his steward to speak.

"It was the first Solstice after the time of famine," recalled the Hobgoblin reflectively. "It was a time of great celebration for all the courts; but a time of honor for the Goblin courts, as we played a larger part than most in the movement to save the Underground and Fairylands." There was more smugness in his tone than he'd ever allowed himself to show before the King up to now. He would not have even broached this subject with the King until recently, seeing the changes that had taken place in the young Fae King. He was now more Goblin than some Goblins, Philo deemed. "Zoltarie was to be honored for his efforts by the High King himself."

"Really?" Jareth frowned. "Why is it I've never read, or been told of this?"

"There were Fae who didn't see his presences in their courts as being… proper…" Philo said carefully, not wishing to insult the Fae born King. "You must understand, Sire… Zoltarie was not one to suffer fools well, and a good many of the Fae were rather foolish. He had used the resources of our Kingdom to save the entire underworld… and the Fairylands, some of them felt he should have felt honored in that fact alone… that he had no need to be praised or honored by their courts."

"Oberon invited him to Avalon," Jareth stated coldly, angry with the Fae who were most likely the same ones who looked down their noses at him. "No other has a right to question the actions of the High King…"

"Right or not, they not only questioned, but gave insult to the Goblin Court." Philo stated quietly. "You see Sire, they didn't and most likely still do not see us as a genuine bona fide Kingdom… most Fae see us as a provincial colony or province at best," he shook his head in disappointment. "We were a Kingdom long before some of the surrounding Kingdoms! We settled here in the Underground long before the Fairy mists!"

An expression of solemnity was now borne by the young King. "I recall when my father placed me on this throne; he said to never underestimate the heart and soul of the Goblin races." He looked down at the stone tiles of the throne room floor. "He said that he had good reasons for placing me here after the long succession of Fae King's who'd spent so little time upon this throne… none ever left an heir…"

"Until you, my King, none has loved this kingdom the way Zoltarie had." Philo strode nearer with steady steps. "He was the most amazing of all the Goblin Kings… a pure bred Hobgoblin, with the heart and soul of a true warrior, and a poet's way with words."

"Pure bred Hobgoblin?" Jareth questioned softly, he considered the implications. "That explains his height; he must have been nearly as tall as I am… I was able to wear his Harpy winged cape with ease."

"Yes," Philo said cautiously. "I'd say you and he were of a similar height."

"Tell me Philo, did he wear the Harpy cape to the Solstice celebration?" Jareth's face looked like a child listening to a tale of wonder, full of awe and excitement.

"He did," the Steward recalled. "I've a record of all the items used in the grand procession, just as Lutin has a record of the actual ceremony."

"Items used in the grand procession?" Jareth stood up. "What grand procession?"

"Why the Goblin King's procession… you didn't think he arrived on Dragon back for such an honor, did you?" Philo moved even closer. "See in your mind's eye this if you will, three coaches of handsomely carved oak, drawn by Gryphon teams, and driven by Mountain Goblin's dressed in the finest Goblin leather uniforms ever imagined. One hundred field Goblins marching as a unit, and carrying the finest Goblin swords ever forged. The King, in full regalia toped by a Harpy wing cape, surrounded by the highest members of his personal court, not the show court mind you, but his personal court and most trusted advisors… on his arm the dazzling beauty of the Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan. Oh it was magnificent, Sire… truly magnificent."

Jareth moved closer, "Philo," he breathed deeply, eyes wide with excitement and planning. "Didn't you tell me we have vaults full of the belongings of the previous kings?" The steward nodded knowingly. "Then, do we also have the King's carriages in storage?" he asked as if it were too much to hope for.

"We do," Philo said, knowing that he had planted seeds in a fertile mind.

Placing a gloved hand to his brow, Jareth began to pace. "A procession the likes of which the present high court has not seen…." He muttered softly, stopping short and frowning. "But where would I find Gryphon teams enough to pull three coaches?"

"I should ask Captain Daisy that question, Sire." Philo said innocently. "She is rather fond of the creatures."

"We have Gryphons?" Amazed the King turned to look at his steward.

Philo nodded, "As large a hidden herd as that of which Zoltarie boasted."

"What condition is the tack in?" Jareth asked excitedly.

"Perfect," Philo acknowledged.

Happily the Goblin King patted the back of the Hobgoblin standing with him. "Well old man, don't just stand there. Go have those things pulled out! I want them dusted off and made to sparkle… The Goblin Court is about to dazzle the Fae Court!" He moved swiftly to the corridor and called back. "I'm going to the scribe to study the scrolls on the procession… I want to out shine even Zoltarie!"

Philo saw Daisy standing in the shadows; "Captain, the ball is now in your Uncle's court."

The Goblin woman, who'd been leaning on a wall just out of sight of the King, moved forward, her arms crossed akimbo over her armored chest. "It's moving at least in the right direction now…Let us see if we can keep the King on course."

Jareth entered the scribe's sanctuary and noticed a flurry of movement. "Lutin, is something going on here that I need to be made aware of?" He pointed to the smaller lesser ranked woodland Goblins who were moving about.

"Reorganizing some of the holding chambers," Lutin stated motioning a crew to get to work. "From time to time the shelves need to be restacked and the scrolls replaced or updated." He moved forward. "Is there something you need, Sire?"

"Yes," Jareth nodded as he took his now usual seat at the wide table. "I need the history of the Procession of Zoltarie and his Court to the isle of Avalon."

"Of course," Lutin bowed and moved into an alcove. He returned with three large scrolls for the King's reading. "These are the ones requested, happy reading Sire." He went back about his business of ordering his crews about.

Jareth leaned forward to read, he was pleased that Goblins, Hobgoblins at least, were very fastidious in the keeping or records. Every detail was there for the taking; from the list of attendants, to the very garments worn, everything. Jareth called for the scribe and began to dictate notes to him.

Devon on the morning of the procession found Bryn and her maid not only packed and ready to go, but watching at the door of the stately home for the carriage that the King was sending for them. He smiled, seeing the girl's anticipation. "Cariad," he called softly to her, when she turned to look at him he smiled broadly. "The coach will be here when it gets here and no sooner."

"I'm sorry, but I can't help but feel excited… Avalon…" she whispered the High King's isles' name with reverence. "You've no idea of what it means to me."

"Nonsense," He said taking a seat on the grand staircase in his foyer. "I know exactly what the word means to you and ever other person of Welsh blood." He extended a hand to her. "Come, sit with me."

Bryn accepted the hand offered, and moved to sit on the stair below the one he was perched on. "Baron," she held his hand in her gloved pair. "I'm a little nervous… I would not wish to embarrass you or myself…"

Devon looked at her, dressed in the sapphire blue traveling coat and bonnet. "You can do nothing to discredit me, or embarrass either of us." He complemented her.

"You're prejudice," she mewled.

Devon snorted, "I am indeed." He laughed lightly.

Mrs. Finch came rushing to the front hall, letting both of them know the coach had been spotted coming up the road. She hugged Bryn goodbye and told her to have a lovely time. She gave a warning glace at the Baron, who ignored the look while he ushered Bryn to the carriage the King had sent.

Jareth knew that Sarah was in the west wing, being given her last minute instructions from the master of the guild. He wondered if she were as ready as Donatien had said she was, or if she were just playacting as she had done as a child in that park. He moved toward the west wing, found both Daisy and Della standing guard outside the door. Donatien had just bid the girl farewell and bowed to the King as he exited the training rooms.

The master of the guild stood silently watching as the Fae born Goblin King entered the rooms. He cast a look at Daisy, and inclined his head. Daisy's expression was one of assured confidence. Della, unsure of the unspoken exchange, glared at both. She didn't like feeling like she was an outsider. However she understood that these two were of the Goblin races and had closer connections, so she held her asp like tongue.

Jareth moved on light feet, about to call out when he saw the woman standing at the looking glass. Her emerald green eyes caught sight of him in the reflection; gracefully she turned to acknowledge him. The Goblin King halted in his steps, staring at the vision before him. If this was the way Zoltarie dressed his slave, he could well understand why the man had been so obsessed with her. The woman at the mirror was clad in yards upon yards of gauzy skirting in shades of blues and purple that seemed to shimmer and fade from one color into another as she moved showing the long elegantly shaped legs. Her long thick tresses had been pulled up to the top of her head and were held in a round clasp that bore the King's emblem. Matching veils of the same shads of blue and purple were flowing out of the clasp. Bands at her elbows and wrist were decorated with rings that clipped the flowing veil to her extended arms. Her breast were covered in a cage of Goblin gold metal work that was exquisite to look at, for modesty a layer of satin in the same hue of purple as the top layer of her skirting had been added. Yet the King could see how it could be easily removed for his private pleasure. The Hip-band that held her skirting to her curves was made of the same Goblin gold, and worked in the same pattern. Both the bra and the belt held the emblems of the King. The King could see that the skirt was actually two gathering of material one for the front of his slave and one that covered her shapely derrière. On her feet were soft slippers in the same shade of purple satin as the modesty panels of her bra. The woman walked away from the mirror, moving toward the King with her head held high, looking more like a Queen than a slave.

They stood looking at one another; each seemed to be appraising the other. Jareth's face held the same expression it had in that crystal ball room when he'd moved to take her into his arms to dance. He was perhaps more confidant than he'd been that night, this time it was she who came to him, not the other way around. Sarah's face on the other hand was a far cry from the innocence and awed expression she'd worn that night. Today she was no longer an innocent, but the King's Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan.

"I've brought you a gift," he murmured, in the same tone he'd used when he'd said those words in her brother's nursery. "Do you want it?"

"What is it?" She asked softly, but not flinching or giving an inch.

He held up his hand, a metal collar of the same Goblin gold was in his grasp. He dangled it before her. "I want everyone who looks upon you to know and understand…you belong to me."

Sarah looked at the collar, it was better than having a leather collar she mused. "As if there could be a question," she quipped looking at the dangling gold metal work. "It's very pretty, Sire. Your gold smiths are truly artists."

Moving behind her he slipped it about her throat, and then fastened it on at the back of her long elegant neck. He bent forward, on a whim and placed his lips to her bare shoulder. "Ghegann…" he whispered hoarsely. "Ghec duulkac."

Sarah shivered, whether it had been his nearness, or his words she was not sure. Donatien had insisted on her learning basic Goblin words, and she understood what the King had said. He had claimed her… he had said, 'mine…my woman.' In the oldest of Goblin dialects, in a tone that was beyond possessive, it was dominant and officious. She tipped her face to look at him, and was surprised to find him looking at her waiting for a reaction. Donatien had told her that the true power was with the slave, but had to be used judiciously. "Thank you, Sire." She murmured placing a hand on the metal collar.

Jareth turned her, "Tagaan, have you no kiss for your lord and master?" Tilting her face upward Sarah rose up on tip toe and gently brushed her lips to his. The King placed one hand to her back, holding her to him. "Duulakac," he murmured darkly. Stepping back he extended his arm to her, "I will enter the halls of Avalon with you on my arm, and I shall be the envy of all who see you."

"Is not a slave to walk behind her master?" She questioned, knowing what Donatien had taught her.

"You are no ordinary slave," He waited until her hand was on his arm. "You are Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan of the Goblin King. WE will make our own rules, you and I. It will pleasure me to have you on my arm… "

Of this Sarah was sure. Never had she seen anyone who could make the outfits he wore look like an exercise in erotica as he did with such ease. He exuded sexual magnetism, and even while she had plotted her escape she found herself drawn to him. He was not the wild haired, boyish King she had met four years ago. Now he was more mature, and more dangerous. But this was his game, and she was unsure of the rules as yet, so going along with him seemed the wisest choice. "As you wish my lord," she murmured demurely.

"Besides," he quipped as they moved toward the exit. "It will far harder for you to stab my back if you are on my arm."

Sarah looked at him sideways, and thought to herself. 'Want to bet?'

Daisy and Della fell into step as the pair entered the corridor. The honor guards were awaiting them in the main hall and escorted them to the carriages that awaited the King and his Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan. Jareth noted the look of surprise in Sarah's eyes as they approached the coaches that were to be driven by teams of Gryphons.

"Are they real?" she asked halting her steps.

"As real as you and I," Jareth said proudly. "Daisy tells me we've quite a herd of the beasties."

Sarah turned to look over her shoulder at her guard; "Is that true?"

Daisy, dressed in her best uniform nodded. "Goblins are rather fond of them." She informed the woman. "We protected them when they were endangered of extinction; along with some other species." She pointed to the myriad of winged beasts being mounted by the Goblin forces. Daisy took her place on the coach, as Della moved forward to where two other Harpies in matching harnesses awaited her.

Jareth watched as one of his coachmen opened the door for the couple. He held his hand up to Sarah to help her to enter the coach. She took the hand, gratefully and entered the opening of the handsome carriage. She settled in her seat and watched as Jareth gave orders to his legions. He then entered the carriage himself and settled in beside her as the coachman closed the hinged door. He could feel the excitement that the girl was experiencing upon the first crack of the whip that urged the large beasts to move forward and upward into the sky. He pointed out the window beside her and urged her to watch as they moved upward.

Sarah did as directed, and was not disappointed, the lift off was exhilarating. She turned to look at the King, "Wow."

Jareth chuckled, surprised at how her pleasure could please him. He was still angry with her, but it was quickly being replaced by something more powerful. He wanted her. He wanted all of her…her body, her mind, her soul… her heart. After all, he already held her dreams….

Oberon watched as the endless processions of guests arriving began. Next to him sat his wife wearing a painted on smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. He could not reproach or condemn her for that. He too was bored to tears. Every year it was the same thing over and over, and over. No one among the Fae seemed to have a new idea or an original concept. Every single one of the guests seemed to have been cut from the same cookie cutter.

"How much more do we need to endure," Tatiana muttered under her breath.

"We are nearly done," Oberon muttered back. "Talagon, then the Winderspire family."

The Queen looked at him, "I had thought Jareth was going to be here."

"I image he is otherwise occupied." A grin spread to the king's lips, and his eyes danced wickedly.

However the Queen didn't seem to be nearly as amused. "Surely you told him how important it was that he…be here." She turned her attention to the approach of Lord Talagon and his daughter Circe. "My Lord, how nice to see you… and your daughter." She greeted the pair politely if not enthusiastically.

Talagon bowed deeply, with a flourish he felt made him look far courtlier than other Fae lords. "My good Queen," he would have preferred to have bowed over the Queen's hand but as it was not extended to him, he made due.

Circe noted the cool reception given by the Queen. While her father would gladly suffer the scorn of the High King and Queen, the girl was of a different opinion of Fae Royalty. She too was cool, but polite. "How kind of you to invite us to join you," she said as she dipped in a curt curtsey. There was no more exchange of words, and the father and daughter moved on.

Duke Winderspire, his wife and Tanya moved forward to greet the High Royals. The Duke smiled warmly at the High King, who had been a friend as well as his sovereign; "A most happy Solstice, my King…and to you dear lady." His voice was congenial and more pleasant to the ears than that of the last guest before the King and Queen.

The Duchess and Tanya both curtseyed at the same time, both dressed in shades of rose, looked very impressive. The mother moved forward extending her hands to the High Queen. "Happy Solstice!"

"And to you, dear," the High Queen said happily before turning to Tanya who had been named somewhat after her. "How pretty you look today, Tanya."

"Thank you," blushed the girl with pretty blue eyes twinkling.

Duke Winderspire, having removed his silk gloves placed one hand holding the gloves behind his back. "I don't see your boy," he commented lightly to the High King. "I'd have thought that King Jareth would be here in the receiving line with you."

"The Goblin Throne seems to be on a time scheduling all its own." Oberon said just as lightly, not taking offense.

Tanya began to pout slightly. "You mean he's not coming?" she could not hold back her disappointment. "I was so hopping to see him again…"

"I'm sure he'll make an appearance and dance your pretty feet off." Her father quipped.

Oberon looked at Winderspire, 'Ah Old Friend...don't put money on THAT!', he thought to himself knowing what or rather who would most likely be occupying the Goblin King's time. "Windy," he addressed the duke warmly. "I hear you've been getting in some hunting."

"Ah to be sure," the Duke went with the change of subject easily. "We've some lovely white pheasants and peacocks starting to roost."

Above, standing on a balcony watching the spectacle from a safe distance stood the Actress, Linda Williams. More than once both the King and Queen and looked up at her and given her a warm smile. Linda had to admit, if anyone had told her she'd be watching all this with only mild amusement she'd have laughed in their face. Oberon had made her feel like a princess in her own right, giving her rooms in his wing of the palace, and making sure she was cared for like a Royal. He had explained to her that while she was a delight to him, he could not have her standing in the receiving line. It was not protocol. Right now, she was glad he had not asked her to take any part in the endless receiving of the guests. She was happy to be on her balcony watching. The sound of wind and wings alerted her that something was about to take place that was out of the ordinary. She looked into the sky excitedly.

The Duke and his family moved off the dais, Oberon turned to Tatiana with a look of utter relief. He rose to his feet, extended his hand to her, and heard the first of many gasps. Looking the direction of the faces frozen in awe, he could see why. The sky was filled with the shapes of Dragons, Rocs, Perytons, Hippogriffs and other winged creatures…all lead by a lone Phoenix, all ridden by various Goblins from every walk of Goblin Life. At least one hundred of the winged creatures filled the skies over the isle. Behind the winged creatures as they landed swiftly were three coaches. The first coach held Devon and his companion, Bryn. They walked up the carpet to the dais quickly, bowed and moved off to one side. Devon had schooled Bryn on the court protocol and she had learned her lessons well. They were followed by the representatives of the Goblin Court, including the Lady Rosalind, and her escort.

Again the eyes went to the sky; three Harpies appeared followed by an ornately carved coach pulled by Gryphons and driven by uniformed Hobgoblins. As the coach landed, Devon whispered in Bryn's ear. "Watch this," he smiled as he spoke.

Daisy hopped off the back of the coach, and stood guard as the coachmen opened the carriage. Jareth stepped out of the carriage looking more majestic and regal in his splendid Goblin Regalia, his King's circlet at a slight cocky tilt upon his brow. His long dark cape fluttering as he turned; extended his hand to the coaches only other occupant. He heard the gasps and the mutterings of shock as the woman alighted and took her place at his side. Schooling his features, he led her toward the dais.

Still standing, and with his hand slightly extended to the High Queen, Oberon heard his own breath catch. He dropped the hand, and watched as his son approached looking more confidant and dynamic compelling and powerful than he'd ever seen him. Oberon knew that the High Queen had risen to her feet as well, staring at the sight of the duo coming forward.

Bryn bit down on her lip, and watched holding her breath. Devon at her ear whispered, 'Breathe,' while he smiled as his cousin's approach toward the High Throne.

Sarah kept her eyes down on the carpet they were walking.

Linda stood watching, and knew the creature of unspeakable beauty was none other than her own daughter. "Sarah," she whispered, afraid to call out the name. The sight of her daughter in the elaborate slaves costume caused Linda's knees to collapse under her and she sunk to the floor of the balcony, glad she didn't have to see more.

Jareth bowed, and Sarah curtseyed while keeping her hand on his arm. Oberon looked down at the King, looking like he'd just sucked a lemon. "Jareth," he muttered under his breath.

The boy King didn't bother looking up just muttered back in the same undertone, "Father."

Tatiana looked from father to son, to the woman and then out at the Fae. "We are becoming a spectacle." She warned placing a hand to her husband arm, urging him. "Do something."

"Welcome, King Jareth." The High King said in a warm voice, but the warmth ended at his lips and didn't migrate to his eyes.

Jareth rose, pulling Sarah up with him. "The Goblin Nation extends its greeting to the High King and Queen." He said formally.

Oberon looked up toward the balcony, suddenly remembering Linda. Seeing she was no longer standing there, he wondered where she'd gotten to, and if she were in a stable frame of mind. He looked back at the Goblin King, trying to remember that this was being observed by his court and guests. "We are glad you could join us." He could feel the High Queen's fingers gripping like a claw. "And who is this pretty creature?" He said calmly.

Sarah stood with her eyes downcast; Donatien had said she was to behave demurely in the presences of the Fae. She heard the High King's voice, and could feel the power of his being. But it was Jareth who seemed to command her attention, he had done nothing more than raise her hand when rose from his bow. Yet it was more than enough for her to understand what he expected of her.

Jareth looked at Sarah, eyes still cast downward, but he had noticed a slight heightening of color in her cheeks. 'Still a bit defiant, how delightful,' he mused. "This is my personal slave." He said, seeing the girl stiffen slightly at the implied insult.

Tatiana's eyes darted about looking at the crowd, but not moving her head otherwise. "And what is her name?" The Queen inquired politely; when what she really wanted to do was give her step son a good swift kick.

"For now," Jareth said coldly. "She will answer to Tagaan," pivoting slightly he lowered his hand and the next sentence cracked like a whip. "Is that not so, Tagaan?"

Raising her head ever so slightly, the woman turned her green eyes to the King. "Yes, sire." She hissed through pursed lips.

"Oh dear," fretted the High Queen.

Sarah heard, and turned her eyes up to the Queen. She wished with all her heart she could spare the woman of whom legends had been written the embarrassment that Jareth was forcing. AS if it offer a olive branch she whispered softly toward the High Queen. "I am sorry, ma'am."

Before Jareth could react to the slave speaking out of turn, Oberon moved down the steps and took the girls chin into his hand. "She's very pretty, Jareth… One can easily see how you'd be…infatuated." Sarah looked up; the man had a face like a God, and eyes that were warm as mulled wine. Oberon kept his hand under her chin as he addressed his son. "Beware; my boy… a treasure like this should not be handled with brute force or brusquely." Releasing the girl's face, he stepped back. "I formally declare the celebrations to begin." He held his hands up, as he opened the festival. Turning to his Queen he extended her his arm, moving to lead the processions into the palace.

Sarah caught a glimpse of Bryn on the arm of the Baron as she was led into the palace on Jareth's arm. Just knowing her friend was looking well cared for was enough for the girl. She looked about with long sweeping glances. This was not the place for confrontations, or escapes. She would bide her time, perform like a good little slave for now. Once she was back in the Goblin Kingdom she would begin looking for a way to secure her own and Bryn's freedom.

Oberon found his wife standing in an alcove, and joined her. "There is going to be trouble." He warned her. "I've ordered Linda to stay to her rooms, but I doubt she'll listen."

The High Queen looked sad and worried. "He's so stubborn!" she spat out angrily. "He could have at least been decent about…"

"He's angry," Oberon observed softly taking a seat on a bench. "In his mind he's being more than accommodating, he did after all present the creature clothed."

"Clothed?" The woman raged. "You call that outrageous… clothed?"

"Tattie," he used a pet name to address her and get her attention. "Did you not recognize that outrageous little costume?"

"Recognize it? Should I?" She pursed her lips and tapped her chin with a long finger.

"He called her Tagaan," Oberon observed. "Tattie, that's Goblin for Slave… and if I'm not mistaken… her entire title is Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan of the Goblin King."

The High Queen moaned and closed her eyes tightly; "Dear Goddess not again."

Oberon sighed, "I'm afraid so…" He held his hand out to his wife. "I really should have been more careful… It is my own folly that put him on that throne."

"It is his birthright," Tatiana murmured supportively. "And he is loved by his subjects."

"Yes, he is;" Agreed the High King, sitting quietly with his wife. "However he has opened a can of worms…"

Leaning on her husbands shoulder the Queen shook her head. "I would say he had help in opening that can. A Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan of the Goblin King," her voice darkened. "Will you tell him?"

"No," Oberon said firmly. "Not just yet… I will however look more carefully into the background of this young woman… this Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan of the Goblin King."

The High Queen sat up, snapping to attention. "Oberon, Linda…."

"Yes, dear, Linda;" He agreed sighing darkly. "This is going to be a long celebration… and we'd best be vigilant."

Jareth was shown to his apartments; Sarah was still on his arm, silent. He motioned the palace's servants off, telling them his own would see to his needs. He watched as Sarah moved quietly in the sitting room of the suite of rooms. "I image, I should be glad you don't have a weapon availed right now…"

Sarah turned and glared at him. "Who are you trying to embarrass? Me or the High King?" There was a warning in her tone. "I'm beyond caring…" she snapped. "There is nothing more you can do to me…You've taken my dreams and my innocence…"

"Mind your tongue," he counseled with a sneer. "It will be your undoing."

Trying to recall Donatien's words, she turned and paced to no avail. "What kind of monster are you?" she railed.

Fury filled his eyes; his hand gripped her forearm and pulled her roughly against him. "This kind," he growled as his lips took hers with a savagery. She struggled but he was still stronger than she. "We've time before we have to appear…" he snarled. "Why don't we play one of our games…"

"No," Sarah refused his advances turning her face away. "I'll scream, I swear, I'll scream…"

Jareth savagely thrust his hand into her long dangling hair, pulling her toward his bedchamber. "Scream all you want, bitch." He growled. "I long ago put a silence spell upon this chamber. I doubt anyone will hear your screams except for me, and you know that your wailing is music to my ears." He laughed harshly as he flung her toward the bed. She fell short of the bed, landing on the floor beside it. In three long steps he was across the floor.

Devon walked with Bryn on his arm in the Queen's garden, introducing her to a few of his acquaintances. She listened as he discussed matters of interest with these people who smiled at her as if she were a long time companion of the Baron's. She was treated with polite smiles and soft inquirers of how she was enjoying her day. Bryn would smile back, and answer inquires with the same polite tones.

Devon plucked a rose, and tenderly handed it to the girl. "It pales compared to you, my dear." He simpered.

"You're being silly." She teased. "I am no where as beautiful as the Queen's roses." She looked at the garden and sighed. "This is paradise. It's perhaps the loveliest garden I've seen since my gran's."

"Would you like to recreate your gran's garden?" He asked softly. "I would be very happy to undertake that effort."

"Your house and my gran's garden don't exactly suit each other… it was perfect for her little cottage, but …" Bryn was honest with him and herself.

"I would do anything that would make you happy… even exchange my grand house for a cottage." He said in a rush.

Bryn looked at him, on the verge of making some smart remark, but paused when she saw something in his eyes that perhaps not even he was aware of. "Oh shut up and kiss me, Devon." She said gently. "Kiss me, and mean it."

Bending his head, as he took her into his embrace, the Lord Baron of the Goblin Kingdom lost his heart to the mortal witch for all time. His lips parted hers, his tongue moved slowly against hers, in a gentle tango. The resulting moan came from his throat, and he pulled back shaken. He had not meant for it to happen, but he could not prevent it either, he had marked her. "Bryn," he whispered. "I've never loved…. I've been with women…. Enjoyed their bodies and the pleasures they brought… but I've never loved…. Until now."

"I know…" She touched his face with her gloved hand. "I know."

Enfolding her into his arms, he rested his chin on her head. Right now he had no more words that he would trust coming from his lips. He just wanted to hold the little witch, and be held in return. It was strange; he thought that he would be happy with so little. He could only image the bliss of being intimate with this, his woman. "We'd best retire to our rooms… there is a grand ball this evening…"

"I never get tired of taking you by force," Jareth muttered into her ear as he lay over the girl, pinning her to his bed. His hands were still gripping her wrists in vice like clenches. His hips ground against her as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.

"I hate you," she moaned as he brought her to a climax that had her arching.

He pealed himself off her once he'd appeased the hunger in his loins. "Good," he said as he strutted naked to his bathing chamber. "Now get your lilywhite ass in here and scrub my back."

Sarah looked at the tangled and mangled mess he'd made of her beautiful garments. The skirts were shredded and the gold metal work was distorted and jumbled. She heard him call her in an annoyed tone, demanding her attendance to his needs. Vowing to get even one way or another, the mortal witch entered the bath sullenly.

Linda was pacing the floor of her sitting room like a caged tiger, Oberon watched her for a moment before he cleared his throat to alert her to his presences. Her angry steps had not halted. "I know you're there," she snipped at him. "I could smell you coming down the hall."

"You and Tattie," he teased as he took a seat on the divan. "You intend on wearing out the marble floors?" He watched her pace.

"It may come to that," she said clenching and unclenching her hands into tight little fists. "I'm not at all sure just yet."

"This kind of anger is not good for the baby you carry." He said softly. "I suggest you let it go."

"Did you see that pompous ass?" she demanded glaring at the doors to her balcony. "Did you see how he paraded my daughter before the courts?"

"Yes, dear."

"He's a pig!" Linda bellowed.

"Yes, dear," the King nodded sadly.

Linda began to feel the hormones rage once more, and the tears burst forth. "And you're not going to do a damn thing about it, are you?" She collapsed into his arms and wept bitterly over his shoulder.

"Not at this time, no;" he gently turned her face toward his. "You know yourself, that Sarah and her companions broke laws… they declared a war and lost…he could have paraded her naked before the courts and I'd have been powerless to do anything about it." He kissed her forehead. "I too must obey the rules, my love."

"Oberon, she's a child… she's my child." She pleaded.

Placing his forehead to hers, he whispered reluctantly. "And he is mine."

Linda blinked, pulled back and stared at him. "What?"

Nodding he shrugged. "He's mine…"

"OHhhhhhhhhhhhh," she moved from his lap. "That's…. that's…" she was at a loss for words.

"Linda," he looked at her with a soft expression on his face and in his eyes. "Do you believe in fate?" When she nodded, he winked. "Well think of them as fated."

"She's too good for him," muttered the woman heading once more to her balcony.

Oberon followed, placing his hands on her shoulders and watching the sun set with his Paramour. "On that point we both agree." He kissed her tenderly and whispered in her ear. "I wish with all my heart that I could make this less stressful… do you think you can manage to stay civil enough to come to dinner?"

"I'll try." She sighed.

"There you are!" Tatiana said in an exasperated huff, "Oberon, be good enough to let our Linda go, she and I have to dress…go…go do something…manly." She moved quickly toward the pair and latched onto the hand of the actress. "Go! Come dear, I have a new gown that will just be beautiful on you."

"Tattie, I am not a dress up doll!" Linda protested as she was pulled back to the bed chamber.

"Not much," Oberon said with a smirk before looking again at the sky. "Oh it's going to be a long night."

Talagon looked at Circe, watching her finish her toilette. "Your mother was that fastidious," he commented; "Fussing with every little detail."

"Mother was a fool," the girl said coldly. "Pretty, but still a fool;" rising from her seat and looking at him with icy eyes she spoke firmly. "I am not a fool, and don't ever think me one father. That has been a fatal mistake for other men."

Talagon nodded, "I will never make that mistake, child. Now… what have your palace spies learned?"

"Oberon has a new paramour, a human who is carrying another of his innumerable brats." She said with marked distaste. "I am told even the High Queen likes this one…." She rolled her eyes before continuing. "And the Duke Winderspire has come seeking to make an alliance. I'm told they are interested in a marriage between their air headed daughter and the King's Goblin pup."

Laughing cruelly, Talagon shook his head. "I image the sight of the king's little playmate put a damper on that…."

Tanya stood while her maid laced her into the gown. "I don't see why I should have to get all dressed up… I mean it's not like he'll even see me…"

The Duchess snapped her fingers and the maid departed. Taking the lacing into her own hands she began to fasten up the gown. "Listen to me," she urged. "What ever that creature is to the King, she will never be his Queen… it's not done… You're a Fae, from a good family…good lines…and you have the favor of the High King and Queen."

Tanya wheezed. "Did you see how she was dressed?"

"How she is dressed is of no concern." Her mother warned. "All that matters is that you show yourself to be a candidate for his wife and Queen."

"What if he… impregnates that creature?" Tanya's voice betrayed the dread she felt. "Mother, I don't think I can be as…forgiving as Auntie Tatiana seems to be."

Her mother turned her, and cupped her face. "You'd be surprised what a woman can forgive my dear. Now smile, and think happy thoughts… tonight you will dance with the Goblin King."