Disclaimer: I do not own the movie "Labyrinth". It belongs to its respective owners, along with all creatures inside of it. I do however claim ownership to all creatures and characters in this story (outside of the term Fae and Underground (what lies behind that term I do claim, since I did come up with my own definition in this story) and the concepts of unicorns, elves, pegasi, fairies, and of course, mortals), and the idea behind this story. I also do not own any songs by David Bowie. I only love to listen to them.
Rating: M for graphic scenes in the story.
Warning: This does have a few battle scenes and can get pretty gruesome. Also, there is one short "almost rape" part of this chapter. If you don't want to, you don't have to read it. Just let me assure you, it remains strictly an "almost rape" scene, not a "rape scene". I also promise that there will be no other rape or "almost rape" scenes at all throughout this story past the first chapter. Alright? There may be mentions of the events in this chapter, but I assure you, that's it.
A/N: So wooh! Long chapter! On my laptop, it actually filled up 20 pages, 12 pt. font Times New Roman. I tried to proofread it as best as I could. I hope it's alright. 0_o Trust me, we get some Jareth kicking butt in this chapter for sure. I'm actually quite happy with it. We're also introduced to other new characters in this story, so get ready, get a good drink of something (soda or water or juice, I mean), something to eat, and enjoy! This is the first actual Chapter of New Beginnings everyone! And the beginning of a (in my mind at least) beautiful tale that takes another look at the Underground, the Labyrinth, the Goblins, and our own very hot Goblin King. ;)

As Her World Falls Down

Many a Fae had spoken of the magnificent castle of Latvania, with its gorgeous towers and gleaming white walls. Jareth himself had even visited the beautiful structure from time to time while conducting royal business. He'd commented to Queen Aryanna and King Azul that the structure stood out from the other castles of all the other kingdoms as one of great beauty and elegance. But now, Jareth felt that the structure before him could never be restored to that former glory. The once glistening white structure was smudged with soot. Its once gorgeous stained glass windows now dotted the ground in multi-colored shards. Fire could be seen emitting from various towers and roofs. And from inside of it, Jareth could hear the screams and yells as the battle between the Latvanians and Bosnians raged on inside the castle's walls. As neighs and shrieks sounded to the right of him, he turned his head and watched with saddened eyes as various Pegasi and Unicorns rushed out of their collapsing stables. The creatures headed blindly in their panic for the safety of the woods, only to be chased down and ripped to shreds by the Bosnian Bolfs. The smells of death and blood in the air had replaced the fragrances that had once been produced by the castle's massive gardens. And the Goblin King stood, in full armor, in front of eight legions of his goblin army that had all come straight out of the Goblin City of the Underground, ready to help the Latvanians fight the Bosnian invaders.

As Jareth looked out over the massive battle that was being fought in the clearing leading up to the castle, his lips curled back in disgust. Anger filled his multi-colored eyes as his fists clenched and unclenched in irritation. Latvanians, Demons, and Angels all fought against the Bosnian invaders, but it was clear to him that the Demons and Angels had held back on helping the victimized Fae Kingdom. Sure, they had followed the requirements set up by his great-great-great grandfather Maltor and the other Fae rulers of Maltor's time by sending three legions of their soldiers to help the Latvanians against the surprise attack, but only just barely. And quite frankly, if these were what three legions really were in the two kingdoms, it made Jareth worry that the Angels and Demons, though powerful, were losing numbers drastically. From what he could tell, one legion had to be only 8 beings. And that number was only possible if there were any creatures from the two kingdoms fighting inside the castle itself. Furthermore, those that he could see fighting had to be the weakest members of the two races, because they were decidedly not holding their own against the Bosnian Warriors. But what really made him angry was the fact that he didn't see the Angel Queen Vatania, or the Demon Lord Trojant, fighting in the vicinity. From what he knew about the two, the two rulers wouldn't be found inside the castle at all either. He wouldn't be surprised if they weren't even supervising the battle.

In light of the actions taken or not taken by the two leaders, the Goblin King sighed, closing his green and brown eyes as he tilted his head down, a gloved hand coming up to rest on the hilt of his sword and grasp it tightly in his silent frustration. It was as if they were spitting in the faces of the Fae ancestors who had set up the law requiring the legions to be offered in assistance to victimized kingdoms way back when the regulations were written down, and it made the Fae blood within him boil with hatred and anger. Gritting his teeth, he opened his eyes, glaring at the battle. Well, he was going to honor his great-great-great grandfather, whether he truly felt like fighting or not. To do that, he had brought all of the goblin soldiers who resided in the Goblin City around his castle to fight, and was going to head the attack himself in the best goblin-made armor he could find.

The Fae King wore black tights, a black long sleeve shirt, and black boots. Over that, he wore black armor that covered as much of him as possible. He wore metal boots over his black ones. He wore metal coverings over his lower legs, his knees, and his thighs, the coverings for such things split into three parts in all for easy movement. Over his chest and abdomen was a massive black breast plate. In the center of that was an intricately etched goblin face to let other fighters know what kingdom he represented. He also wore black spiked cuffs on his shoulders and black metal coverings over his upper arms, elbows, lower arms, and black gloved hands. Falling from the cuffs on his shoulders behind him was a long dark black cape. This one held no glitter as so many of his capes tended to do, for in war, such a thing had no place with so much blood and death. Strapped to his waist was the sheath of a long, wide sword of black metal, and in the hilt of the sword were gorgeous crystals akin to those he used for magic, intricately inlaid into the metal. To top off the ensemble, the Goblin King wore black hair feathers in his mullet.

As he took another step towards the battle before him, a taller goblin whose spiked helmet just came to Jareth's shoulders walked up to him, whispering through the grates of his silver helmet, "Sire?" he whispered, having thick, black hairy arms and legs and wearing silver armor with a red orb on the front of his breastplate. Jareth glanced at him. The goblin was the leader of the red legion of his goblin foot soldiers. There were a total of five such legions in the Goblin City's forces, all represented by different colors. There was the red legion, the green legion, the blue legion, the yellow legion, and the white legion. The legion that each soldier belonged to was represented by the different colored orbs on their breast plates. Each legion contained at least thirty goblins of varying shapes and sizes. The red legion was Jareth's own personal guard that resided in the lower levels of the Castle. Their leader, Grindelwald, was Jareth's second in command in the goblin army. He gazed at his king with worried blue eyes, as Jareth sighed. "What is it, Grindelwald?" the King muttered with a frown. "S-sire, I was just . . . what are your orders, my King?" the goblin whispered, clearly nervous around Jareth. And he had a right to be. Over the past two weeks, Jareth had been in a dark, brooding mood, mostly sulking about in his office.

The King himself emitted a dark aura in the castle wherever he went, and whenever he was just slightly displeased with a goblin on the rare occasion when he would be in the throne room, there would be no questions asked or excuses taken. The goblin in question would be immediately transported to the Bog of Eternal Stench. The goblin population had lost ten members that way. . .

Jareth knew he'd been in a dark mood, and knew that Grindelwald had every right to be worried. But he also felt that he had every right to behave the way he had been behaving. After all, two weeks previous, his heart had been shredded to pieces by that damned mortal, Sarah Williams. He'd opened his heart to Sarah and sung to her his soul song, which was a song that had resided in his heart for all of his life. He had waited to sing his soul song solely to that one being with whom his soul truly felt a deep, intimate bond. Said being was otherwise known as his bond mate. Every Fae had one. It was that one being that completed a Fae and made him or her feel as though they could live an eternity with nothing but that being and be just as happy as if they'd lived in the lap of luxury for all of that time. And when one of the Fae sang to their bond mate their soul song, like Jareth had attempted to do to Sarah in the Crystal Ballroom, the bond between the two was supposed to strengthen both bond mates. The song was supposed to fill them with warmth and make them feel complete. And at that moment, if a Fae's bond mate accepted the one presenting them with the song, their bond with the other would be made firm and unbreakable. The pair would form a connection between their souls that would be of great power. That had been Jareth's hopes for him and Sarah as he'd danced with her around that enchanted room. Upon her rejection of him and his song, however, such an opportunity was lost.

Any normal Fae would have given up at that point, but Jareth had given Sarah one more chance. He was so sure that she'd accept him if he just gave her one more try, because he was absolutely sure he had felt a connection between the two the minute she'd entered the Labyrinth. He'd already been captivated by her in the mortal realm of the Aboveground, but once he'd felt a change come upon his spirit as she'd walked into the great structure that was the pride of his land, he had been sure that she and he were destined to be together forever. And so, when she'd foolishly jumped to save her brother in the Escher room, he'd reordered time, and had approached her once again, opening up his heart to her as he practically begged for her to love him and to stay with him. He'd put his feelings in her hands, believing that surely she'd accept him, and with those six stupid words, she'd ripped those feelings apart. It'd filled him with a pain unlike any other. It'd also made him decide something quite important: that he'd never trust his heart with another being ever again. He had decided to build walls so high around his emotions that no creature could ever scale them, no matter how hard they tried.

He gritted his teeth against the pain that coursed through him as he recalled that awful encounter, and focused on the battle at hand. His darkened thoughts concerning love and matters of the heart had to be put on hold. Right now, he had a group of Latvanian Fae to help. "Grindelwald, I want your legion, the white legion, the blue legion, and the green legion to accompany me in combat inside the castle. I want the aerial force," he paused, and turned to a massive scaly goblin guard with lightweight armor on, which blinked at him with golden eyes. The thing's armor had a large black orb on the front of its breastplate and the creature itself had massive bat like wings that had formed out of its shoulder blades at a young age. Many various types of bombs that could be dropped from the sky could be seen tied to a belt wrapped around its waist. It was the leader of the flying goblin guards. Jareth blinked, and continued to issue his orders to the creature in question, "To stay with the yellow legion and the two cavalry legions. . ." at that moment he turned, and frowned at the two massive legions of soldiers in blue and red armor on the goblin creatures that were so much like the mortals' "dinosaurs", before continuing, "And fight out here in the clearing." Turning back to the battle before him as the goblin legion leaders nodded quickly in understanding, he walked forward a few feet and said loudly, eyes locking on the two large front doors of the castle, which were now pieces of broken wood and wrought iron littering the front steps to the structure. They had no doubt been torn down in the initial attack made by the Bosnians, "Now, all of you listen to me!" he snapped in a deep rumbling voice, and he heard all of the goblins stiffen and stand straighter behind him.

Once he was sure that they were all at full attention and listening to his every word, Jareth continued in a loud voice, "As your King, I demand that you fight to preserve the honor of the Underground, and the Labyrinth that resides within it! Therefore, I expect all of you to continue to fight until you cannot fight any more! You are not to retreat from the battle as you so foolishly did when that damn monster caused those rocks to invade your city! Not unless I order you to do so, anyway! Do I make myself clear?" he snapped. The goblins glanced around nervously at that, looking at the barbaric, taller Fae Warriors that fought the Fae, Demons, and Angels in the clearing on the other side of their leader. Gritting their teeth, they began to nod uneasily in obedience to their King's commands. Jareth narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the battle before him, "I understand that some of you may not want to fight the Bosnians. And to those, I say you may go home." Some smaller goblins looked at him in disbelief, eyes twinkling at the concept. "Just know that if you do so, I will waste no time in TIPPING YOU HEADFIRST INTO THE BOG OF ETERNAL STENCH AND HOLDING YOU THERE SO THAT YOU WILL STINK ALL OVER FOR ALL OF ETERNITY!" Jareth shouted angrily, "That goes for anyone who wants to retreat during the battle as well! Now, do I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?" "YES SIR KING SIR!" the goblins shouted in renewed fervor.

Jareth smirked, and turned on his heel to gaze at them all, "You lot are a good fighting force. You should be proud of yourselves. . ." As he saw the Goblins beam at his praise, the Fae turned back around to face the battle beyond, glared dead ahead, and drew his long sword, holding it high before him so that it gleamed in the sunlight raining down upon them, "SO LET'S GO! SHOW THESE FOOLS THAT THE UNDERGROUND HAS THE BEST DAMN ARMY IN ALL OF THE FAE KINGDOMS!" The goblins erupted in a loud battle cry, and in no time, were running either behind their King as he rushed across the blood soaked soil to the castle or were going their own way to do as he'd ordered them.

Jareth growled, his long legs stretching out before him as he ran around the bodies, leaping over already dying ones and dodging others as their hosts fought. Every once and a while, the Goblin King would use his sword to fend off the Bosnians as they attempted to block his way. As he heard his Goblins take down the barbaric Warriors behind him, the Goblin King having already wounded the Bosnians in question with his own weapon, he hurled himself across the battlefield towards the large, smoking building before him, as his mind focused on his true goal. He had to get to the Latvanian King Azul, and find out what he and his goblin guard behind him needed to do in order to help the other Fae ruler. As he neared the doors, he picked up his pace, as a part of the left side of the castle collapsed before his very eyes. The Fae gritted his teeth, and turned his head to look at the falling stone walls. He watched as the bodies of many Latvanians and Bosnians alike vainly launched themselves from the windows as the white stone crumbled down in an attempt to save themselves. He knew that the remaining fighters, including himself, didn't have much time before the structure began to collapse at a much faster rate as its foundation was damaged by the battle. So, if there was going to be any way of saving the princess or the king and thus preserving the royal line of the land, he had to find the king fast! He suddenly caught sight of a Bolf before him, feasting on a dead Latvanian woman lying on the front steps of the castle, and the Fae king growled in disgust, launching his sword through the air to spear through the howling creature. Rushing up to the now dead beast, he grabbed his sword hilt and continued to run inside. Once there, he quickly engaged two Bosnian barbarians in battle.

Quickly twisting around on his long legs, he whipped his arms around quickly, glaring hard into the eyes of the Warriors, his sword singing in the air as it swung towards them, blocking their attacks and slicing deep into them when the opportunities to do so presented themselves. Fight and fire now resided in his mismatched eyes, and as he heard his goblins yell and rush at the barbarians that were fighting behind him, he quickly took down the Warriors and rushed towards another group of Bosnians to engage them in battle as well, working his way deeper and deeper into the castle walls and chambers.

Up higher in the castle, King Azul was barely holding off three barbaric Warriors of his own, his black hair gleaming in the light of nearby fires caused by fallen chandeliers, his arm arched back as he fought desperately to stay alive. As one of them knocked his sword away, he thought he was done for, when . . . the one on the left groaned, as a small fur lined axe slammed deep into his helmeted head. Blood oozed from beneath the armor, and the Barbaric Fae groaned before falling to the side, knocked out. At that moment, another pair of swords, slenderer than Azul's but still very deadly, sank deep into the chests of the other two barbarians at slants in order to get past their torso armor, and slashed out to the sides, ripping straight through their hearts and making them fall to their knees before dying. The lad holding the swords rushed up, a young Latvanian servant Fae. Growling as he quickly sliced off the first Bosnian's bloody head to make sure that he died, he turned and tilted his head in respect to Azul. The younger Fae male had brown hair that drooped over his forehead and bright blue eyes. He wore a dark blue long sleeve shirt, silver colored pants, and black boots. Moving his head back up to gaze intently into Azul's own sapphire lined pupils, the servant gasped, "Sire! I've taken the Princess to a small storage closet just down the corridor! An elf is currently watching over her!" He held out a black gloved hand covered in blood, "She's safe for now, but we must hurry!" Azul nodded, and after picking his weapon up, quickly sheathed his own silver sword, which had a golden hilt, and took off after the lad, wearing a billowy blue shirt and black pants and boots with his golden crown still atop his head. He'd just managed to grab it as he'd prepared for the battle, the initial attack having occurred as he was preparing to go eat dinner.

The two rushed down the corridor just outside of the room Azul'd been fighting in and in the direction of the storage closet that the younger Fae had mentioned. As they ran, the Fae male of lower rank took down guard after guard as he went, panting slightly due to his exertion. Finally, they saw the place where he'd left the Princess. The elf he'd mentioned before was trying her hardest to put up a good fight against some Bosnians, but the smaller, weaker creature was easily getting overpowered by them and their Bolfs.

As the largest Bolf lunged forward and closed its jaws around her neck, the younger Latvanian rushed forward, and quickly speared straight through the Bosnian creature's heart with his right hand's sword, before quickly turning to the other creatures that then leapt towards him, their jaws wide open, with their Bosnian Warrior owners lunging at him as well from behind their pets. Azul lunged forward and caught the largest Bosnian straight through his helmet and through the back of his head, as the younger Latvanian male took on three Bolfs, slicing quickly through them and tearing them apart. As the creatures fell, the younger Fae turned to the Bosnians behind them and was aided by the King further as they took on the Warriors, fighting hard against their foes as screams from Latvanians and Angels and Demons and Bosnians alike filled the air. Finally, all lay dead before the two Latvanian Fae. At that moment Azul turned to the boy, who now was doubled over in exhaustion with his hands firmly on his knees, his eyes shut tight as he breathed hard in and out. Azul smiled at him, placing a firm hand on the lad's shoulder, "Nathaniel, I am honored that you have gone to such great lengths to protect me and my daughter. . ." Nathaniel turned to him, and bowed his head, "Anything for you, my king." With that, the two rushed into the storage closet.

The white haired girl with bright blue eyes stared at her father with fear written all over her face. She had been hiding out in a storage closet of the castle. It had been where Nathaniel had taken her after rushing into her room moments after she'd awoken from a light nap to the first sounds of trouble coming from the parts of the castle below her. Now her father had rushed into the closet and gripped her shoulders, her only wearing a sleeveless silver dressing gown and slipper shoes of the same color. Azul frowned at Arissa, "Arissa, you listen to me, go with Nathaniel. . ." he whispered, and turned to the brown haired blue eyed 24 year old now standing to the right of his 18 year old daughter. She glanced nervously at Nathaniel, able to see the fresh blood still wet on his clothing. He smiled weakly at her, some of the blood also in his hair. She couldn't smile back. She hated war and hated violence. And he was her best friend, despite being her servant. She didn't want to see him like this . . . she didn't want him to be combined with things she hated. She shut her eyes tight, tears racing down, trying to erase the image from her mind as she shivered. Nathaniel reached over with a soft sigh and rested a hand on the Princess's shoulders. . .

Nathaniel remembered the day he had been hired on to be Arissa's caretaker once Queen Aryanna had passed . . . or been murdered . . . the king preferred for people to word it the first way. It would have been a lie to say that he wasn't attracted to her. That he didn't want to marry her one day. But he knew that could never happen. Sure, he felt strongly for her, but he knew he wasn't her bond mate, even though he'd always kind of looked over her since they were kids. He knew it wasn't meant for them to be married, because he felt no energy spike in his energy streams when they were near one another. Only a warmth. And he knew he had to feel something more if she was truly his bond mate. Still, that didn't keep him from protecting her with all he had. Like he was prepared to do right now.

Arissa breathed hard, fear filling her, gazing at Nathaniel as he gazed at her with those warm blue eyes. She reached up, shaking, and touched his cheek, the fear in her own eyes dying down a bit as he rested his other hand on her other shoulder. She leaned close, breathing in his scent, trying to get her focus past the blood and smoke on his clothes. She gripped his shirt tightly, whimpering, tears streaming down as she felt his strong arms enclose around her. Yes. With Nathaniel protecting her she would be safe. She didn't doubt that . . . her and her Father would be alri. a thought suddenly occurred to her. Her father hadn't said he'd come with them. That meant . . . she whipped her head around, shaking, panic in her eyes as she gazed at her father. "Father, come with us! Don't go and do battle with. . ." "I have to. I am King. I must defend my land. But you must go with Nathaniel, my little sapphire." Arissa felt tears spill down her cheeks and rushed over to the man, throwing her arms around him, "Please! Be careful!" she whimpered. She still wasn't over the death of her mother. To lose her father too . . . he lightly pushed her shoulders back, and she moved away as he smiled, kneeling, before her, "I will be. . . But you have to be strong. You have to be brave and go with Nathaniel. At least for just a little while. . . I'll see you later. Okay?" he whispered. He turned to Nathaniel, "You know where to take her."

Nathaniel bowed, "Yes, my king." The second the attack had begun, he'd rushed Arissa to the meeting place he and King Azul had already planned for emergencies. This closet . . . having a room adjacent to Arissa's, the boy had luckily been able to reach her in time. They had come here to assure Azul that his daughter was alive. Now he was to take her to the second meeting place they'd agreed upon. Azul turned and smiled at Arissa, "I'll meet with you later, darling." He leaned forward, and cupping her head, pressed a warm kiss to her brow. She shivered and tears rolled down her cheeks as he quickly exited the closet. Nathaniel turned to her, determination in his blue eyes. Now it was their turn to leave. And he knew he had to protect the Princess at all costs. She was Latvania's only hope for a good future. "We have to leave, now, Arissa." Turning, she bit her lip and nodded, offering him her hand.

Nathaniel gripped her hand so tightly his knuckles were turning white beneath his gloves as he rushed down the corridor of the castle, the girl having hiked her dress up in order to keep up with him. It was a corridor well off the beaten track of the castle, and not one that was normally visited. It was her mother's old corridor. She shivered, glancing at the suits of armor around her. The sounds of the battles were far below them now as they silently rushed along the white marble floor, having climbed many flights of stairs to get up to the Queen's Wing after Nathaniel'd had to fend off many more Bosnian Warriors. Now Arissa herself had Bosnian blood covering some of her dress, since Nathaniel had refused to let go of her hand for fear of letting them hurt her and because of that had risked some blood getting on her. Both were covered in a fine layer of sweat. She sighed. The silence seemed to scare her more than anything. They had no idea how the battle was going on down below. . . "Nathaniel, where are we. . ." "There's a hidden passage leading from Queen Aryanna's old bed chambers to a safe house far away from here," he whispered, "You'll be safe there. . ." "Why in my mother's old. . ." "It is through the Queen's lineage that the Latvanian throne is filled. So compared to the King, her protection was of greater importance," Nathaniel whispered, "Now come. We must hurry!" At that moment, a tremor in the floor caused by the battle below unsettled them a little, as another part of the castle fell away. Arissa staggered a bit, as did Nathaniel, but his grip didn't loosen in the slightest. If anything, it tightened. Cursing lightly under his breath, Nathaniel pushed onward, stood upright, and threw open the large marble doors to the chamber, the doors themselves inlaid with gold with a Pegasus carving in the center of them. Arissa walked slowly in behind him as he let go of her hand and gazed around at the gold accented chamber.

It was a glossy white chamber, and was set up just like it was the day her mother had last been in it. She saw her mother's vanity in a corner. It was all made in silver, with silver utensils daintily placed upon it. She couldn't help but walk over to it and sit on the blue velvet cushion of the seat of the spindly chair there, gazing at the three mirrors before her. For so many years, her mother had stood behind her and worked through her daughter's silver curls at that mirror. The woman would describe during those times to Arissa that one day, Arissa would sit in a vanity and prepare to face her subjects, just as Aryanna often did at her own. Arissa sighed, slumping in the chair, gazing at the vanity. She'd hoped that the vanity her mother had spoken of during those times would be this one. But she highly doubted that would be possible. Even if this part of the castle didn't collapse, the beautiful vanity would perhaps still be destroyed by fire or looting. She turned her head and gazed at a glass box on the right side of the vanity's surface with her mother's white gold and sapphire crown in it, long, ornate spires stretching up from it, donned with the precious jewels. Slowly, she opened the crown's box. Some dust fluttered off of it as she did so and the Latvanian girl coughed a little on it before she picked up the crown carefully from the blue velvet pillow upon which it'd been sitting. Turning it over in her hands, she gazed down at it. Would she ever wear it?. . . the castle was under attack. . . what if she died. . . what if. . . what if Latvania fell completely to the Bosnians. She shut her eyes tight, gripping the crown tightly in her hands. So much was happening so fast. It was hard for her to take it all in. Lifting her head up, she turned slowly to the silver brush lying on the vanity's counter, with silver wisps of Aryanna's hair still in it after all of the years of disuse. At the thought of the years that had gone by since her mother's passing, Arissa shut her eyes tight and shook, clutching the brush in one hand and the crown in the other, hunched over in the chair as she drew the two objects to her chest. They smelled of her mother, and a huge wave of longing swept through her. It'd been five years. Five long years. . .

"Arissa, it's time to depart. . ." Nathaniel whispered, cutting through her thoughts. She turned in the chair, setting the objects down in her lap and gripping the back of the piece of furniture she sat upon, twisting around to face Nathaniel. He blinked at her as she gazed at him. He was waiting for her to get up and come over to him . . . she glanced at the bed behind him. Half of the blue satin and goose feather silver pillow covered bed had been lifted up on some hinges. From where she sat, she could see the earthen tunnel that had been hidden beneath it. Nathaniel looked at her with sympathetic blue eyes. He could see the fear and sadness in her eyes. She was worried about her country, she was worried about her father, and now, memories of the death of her mother were flooding into her mind. But still, they had to leave. Or she, the last hope Latvania had of continuing on, could die as well. "Arissa, we have to go now. While the tunnel's still stable. They haven't attacked it yet. Otherwise the bed would not have lifted up for us. It's enchanted. It's safe. But it may not be that way for long. We have to go, Arissa. Please hurry! " he whispered quickly, with one foot already on the top step of the tunnel. Arissa gazed at him as the Fae held out a hand towards her. She frowned, put the crown and brush on the vanity counter, and got up. Before she walked over to Nathaniel, however, she turned to look at the crown and brush once more. They had been her great grandmother's. She couldn't leave them behind to be destroyed. She quickly slid both into a pocket on the right side hip area of her gown and moved over towards Nathaniel to gaze down into the dank dark hole that was the tunnel. She knew it was a long way down. And she knew that once they started their journey down into it, there would be no turning back. She would probably never return to her castle as it currently stood . . . The thought sent cold fear down her spine. She turned to Nathaniel and new tears streaked down her cheeks. "Is my father really going to come meet us?" she whispered. And she saw it in his eyes: the truth.

Nathaniel knew that it would be a miracle for Azul to make it alive. They'd both known that, him and the king. But he was charged with the protection of Arissa, and he was going to make sure she got out of this alive. Taking care of the Princess was his number one priority. And if he had to lie to her before as they'd run through the corridors in order to do just that, then he was willing to make that sacrifice. But now he knew he couldn't hide the fact that Azul's chances of survival would be close to none in the battle below.

Arissa felt her heart break at Nathaniel's next words. "I'll protect you, Arissa. I always have. . ." she sobbed, and threw herself into his arms as she wept. He tried to calm her, rubbing her white, silky locks with a gloved hand, gazing sadly at the room around them as he held her tightly while she sobbed into his chest, "Shhh, Arissa, shhh, I swear, nothing's gonna hurt you. . . I. . . Arissa you need to go. Now." She frowned at his change in tone, and tilted her head back a bit, gazing up at him quizzically. But he wasn't looking at her. He was fixated on something behind her. Near the door . . . Turning her head, the Fae Princess stared, wide eyed, at the three Bosnian barbarians all smirking triumphantly at them both. The three dirty and bloody Fae males had their massive swords and daggers drawn, and she was getting a very bad feeling by the way they were looking at her. She moved slowly to stand behind him, her fear evident in her movements, gazing with frightened over his shoulder at the Warriors, placing her two hands on her protector's shoulder blades, "Nathaniel. . ."she whimpered. Nathaniel drew one of his swords from its sheath at his hip in one hand, and used the other to cup one of her own that was lying on his shoulder. He tried to grip her hand tightly in an attempt to assure her that she'd be safe. But quite frankly, even he wasn't so sure about that . . . but he still wanted to ease her fear . . . "It'll be okay, Arissa. I promise." He whispered quietly, "Go to the hole as fast as you can." She sobbed a bit into his shirt, burying her forehead into his hand that was over hers.

"Don't say something to the little lady you don't mean, pretty boy!" one sneered, his black teeth gleaming, and took a firm step forward. He was clearly the leader. Nathaniel gritted his teeth tightly together, and as the leader took another step forward it caused Nathaniel to back up a step as the Bosnian spoke "Why don't you just hand the pretty little thing to us? We'll take good care of her!" he sneered, grinning lecherously at her, holding out a hand and waving at her to come over to the Warriors. Arissa gazed with wide, frightened blue eyes at him, gripping Nathaniel's shoulders even tighter, the Fae Princess shaking all over with her heart beating quickly in her chest. Nathaniel frowned hard at the man, fury in his bright blue eyes, and took a firm step forward, raising his own sword higher in the air, "I won't let you put a single one of your filthy, barbaric hands on her! I've sworn to protect her, and that's just what I plan on doing! . . . Arissa! You have to get out of here! NOW!" Arissa whimpered and shook her head. She'd already lost her father and mother. She couldn't lose Nathaniel too! "Not without you!" she whimpered. "That's right boy! Let the little lady stay!" the one to the leader's right sneered, "We'll be done with you in an instant! No sense in making her go down into that tunnel to wait for us!" Nathaniel narrowed his eyes, and gripped his sword tighter, before the three Bosnians lunged for the two Latvanians. Pushing Arissa in the general direction of the hole, Nathaniel lunged forward as well.

The two Warriors of lower ranking easily over took him and bound him tightly, hogtying him and throwing him to the floor. Arissa cried out as the leader's large, bloody, grimy hand closed around her delicate pale wrist, keeping her from the hole in case she chose to try that escape route. She shrieked and writhed, panicking and kicking out at the barbarian as the man's sour, alcoholic breath hit her cheek as he pulled her close. She tried to aim a punch at his face, but he only caught that hand in his remaining free hand. This left her with nothing to do but gaze tearfully into the dark muddy brown eyes of her captor as he sneered, "A fighter, huh? No problem. I like it rough. . ." leaning forward, he moved his long, nasty tongue up her left cheek. The action left a long, slimy trail on her pale skin, and she shivered. As Nathaniel roared and writhed in anger, glaring intently at the Bosnian holding his friend, the Princess whimpered and pushed against the barbarian's chest, eyes shut tight, "Please! Leave me alone! Please!" He chuckled and took both of her wrists into one hand, "Heh heh, I don't think so sweetheart. . ." reaching up, he gripped her chin and tilted it to him, giving her no choice but to gaze, now more fearful than ever before, into his face. She whimpered, and as he moved closer the fingers of the hand on her chin pressed into her cheeks, forcing her to open her jaws and mouth as the Bosnian prepared to kiss her. Arissa screamed as loudly as she could and quickly head butted him as she wrenched her chin out of his hand before kicking him hard in the crotch. As the male let go of her and dropped to the floor, growling in the sharp pain, she pushed him away, and turned around to face the hole again. But before she could get inside the tunnel, he was standing up yet again. Growling, he swung a dirty, bloody arm around her stomach. She screamed and writhed some more, as he pulled her closer to him. Grunting, the Bosnian reached around the Fae Princess with one hand and gripped her wrists tightly while breathing hard on her ear, "You really are a feisty one, huh? Tell ya what: We were going to let your little boyfriend live, but since you've really made me mad now, we're just going to kill him anyway and then . . ." he raced his dirty tongue up her cheek once more. She whimpered and heard someone slam the bed back down, blocking the tunnel off. "I'm gonna take ya and break ya. Once and for all," the leader slurred.

Arissa was thrown onto the bed roughly, and quickly flipped over by one of the Bosnians. She screamed and writhed and shrieked as the one who had flipped her over to face the ceiling now moved quickly to her hands and held her arms firmly apart, gripping her wrists to the point where she knew it'd cut off the circulation of blood to them in no time. The beheaded, dead body of Nathaniel, his neck having been sliced straight through by a sword, lay on the floor. As the leader nodded and the other Bosnian of lower rank gripped her ankles and spread her legs apart, the Fae male quickly straddled her, and she could see the blood streaming from his nose as a result of when she'd hit him with her head earlier. Frowning at her, he lifted the hem of her dress and pushed the material up to her thighs. "STOP IT! STOP IT!" she shrieked, writhing. And his other dirty hand clamped onto her mouth. Her eyes grew wide as the leader leaned down, her nostrils flaring as she breathed heavily through them, her chest rising quickly up and down in her fear. He smirked at her, his bare torso pressing down upon her, drinking in the fear in her eyes, "Be a good girl and stop writhing so much, pretty . . .it'll all be over soon."

She gritted her teeth, and with all of her remaining strength, wrenched one of her hands free, grabbed her mother's crown from her pocket, and brought the object up to be near her face before she stabbed one of his dark eyes with it. He roared, flinging his head back, clutching his now bleeding eye socket. She bit deep into his hand, feeling the blood spurt and flow over her teeth, causing him to draw back, and then the Fae girl lunged up with all of her might and rammed her body up against him, forcing him to tumble off of her. As he tumbled off, he rammed into the Bosnian that was at her ankles, taking him onto the floor along with him. She jerked her feet up now that they were free, and bouncing off of the bed to gain more force behind her next move, slammed her slipper covered soles into the other's face. As he rolled back from the force of the sudden attack, he let go of her hands. Wasting no time, Arissa slipped the crown back into her pocket and shot up from the bed and tried to lift the piece of furniture to enter the hidden passage. She gritted her teeth . . . it was stuck . . . not good . . . she turned to the men, and gritted her teeth. They were already rising up from the floor . . . she shrieked as they grabbed for their swords, and turning, grabbed the nearest heavy object she could find: her mother's vanity chair. Whipping around with a yelp, she flung it at them, and was pretty sure she hit at least two with it. Then one of the Warriors, she wasn't sure who, grabbed her dress with his massive, dirty hand. The material tore as she pulled some of it free, and she rushed to the doors leading out into the corridor beyond. Whipping around once she was out in the hall, she gripped the edges of the doors and slammed them closed.

She gritted her teeth, gazing up at the ancient Fae lock in the center of the doors, right below the Pegasus's head etched into the stone, and moved her hand over the golden object, closing her eyes and focusing all of her energy into her hand. "Ancient Fae magic, I call on you now. Seal this lock shut with the magic I've been endowed. . ." she whispered, praying that the incantation would work. She'd never been all that good at such things when she'd practiced before. As she opened her eyes, she grinned, as the edges of the door along with the lock melted instantly. Not exactly what she had had in mind, but it would certainly work! It was then that she heard them banging on the other side, trying to get out. The Princess knew they couldn't break through. No matter how strong they were. The marble wouldn't give. Finally out of immediate danger, she sighed, and turning, leaned against the door, closing her sapphire blue eyes. Nathaniel was still trapped in there. . . It's just his body though. He's dead. . . I can't worry about him, she thought sadly, hot tears racing down her cheeks. Right now, I just need to try to get out of here. Turning, gripping an edge of her dress in her hand the Fae rushed to get out of the hall. Just as she was about to leave the corridor, however, she paused, grabbed a sword from a suit of armor, and went on her way, gripping the sword tightly in her right hand as she ran, her left still holding up her dress. She may need it . . . who knew what waited for her down below. . .

Arissa's heartbeat was in her ears as she rushed down the silent, white marble corridor minutes later, various tapestries of Pegasi, Elves, Unicorns, and Fae on the walls in ornate shades of blue, yellow, red, and green. She grunted as she still carried a portion of her dress before her and half-dragged half-carried the sword behind her, its point scraping along the floor as the Fae hoped she wouldn't stumble and fall. But ironically enough, she didn't hope such a thing because that could mean her falling prey to Bosnians. Contrary to the commotion that she knew was going on floors below her, the part of the castle she was running in was so quiet, even her slippers seemed loud as they slapped the floor when she ran. In fact, the only other sound that could be heard over the scraping of her sword was the sound of her own deep breathing as she rushed down the hallway. Finally, she knew she had to take a moment to catch her breath, and putting the sword with its point down in front of her, leaned over it, taking in deep breaths as she tried to assess her situation.

"Alright, so the tunnel won't work because it's collapsed. That's why the bed didn't open for me . . . so the only way to get out of here is to go down. But what's down?" As if to remind her, a tremor ran through the building, as the foundation of her home was shaken once more. She sighed, steadying herself quickly in order to remain upright, "The battle. Alright. . ." she ran a hand through her silver hair, only to have it fall back into her face, "And without Nathaniel, I have little chance of holding off very many Bosnians, so I need to avoid the battle . . . but then that would mean going up. And if I go up, I have no way out . . . And if I have no way out, they're going to. . ." Suddenly, her mind went to the image of the evil Bosnian leaning over her, pulling up her dress, about to . . . about to. . . She sobbed, and held a hand to her forehead, kneeling down and pressing her face against the hilt of the sword, tears streaking down her now dirty cheeks. "No, I definitely can't let that happen. . . Maybe. . . Maybe I can use the servants' passageways to get down. Maybe the Bosnians don't know about those yet. . . I. . . I think I can remember them. . . Maybe. . . I hope so. . ." Suddenly, the sounds of explosions and blasts and Fae screams floated in through a shattered window to her left. Standing up, the Fae girl walked over, blinking, and gazed out.

Arissa stared at the Fae, Angels, and Demons fighting just outside of the castle doors, or what was left of them. And her eyes widened, gazing at all those Bosnian Warriors, who she knew wouldn't spare a thought in doing the same thing that that one warrior was about to do to her before. "Even if I get out, they'll be waiting for me . . . and if I live through that, they'll take me back to Bosnia and. . . and . . ." she let out a sob, and her knees buckled, as she landed hard on the marble floor, her face in her hands, and began to weep. There was no way out. That was what was going on. That was her situation. Her dad could be dead, Nathaniel was dead. Her mother had already died . . . and she was just buying time until the Bosnians came up and killed her or worse. . . Her world was quite literally falling apart at the seams. Turning her head up to the ceiling above her, she let the tears run silently down her cheeks as she whispered, "Mother, what do I do? How am I going to get out of this?" It was then that a massive tremor shook the floor beneath her. Her eyes shot open and her heart stopped, as she whipped her head down and around and watched as a large crack formed in the marble floor just feet from her. Whipping her head around, she turned to where the sword lay where she'd left it, and rushed over to it, picking it up and gripping it tightly before she lunged forward with the sword in both hands, and slammed into the floor feet away from where the crack was, yelping upon impact. Grunting, she slammed the point of the sword hard down into the marble, wedging it as far into the stone as it would go, all the way to the hilt. Gritting her teeth, she held on tightly to it.

For a few minutes, she only lay there, panting, glancing around nervously as the crack in the marble behind her spread even further throughout the floor. Sighing, she put her forehead to the cool marble beneath her, sweat rolling down her face, wondering when the inevitable would happen. And then it did. She screamed, head thrown back, as the floor beneath her legs and abdomen fell away, gripping the hilt of the sword in her hands so hard her knuckles were as white as the marble that had just crumbled away, praying that her strength would be enough to keep her from following the massive pieces of stone. As the sounds of the battle below finally reached her, the Fae Princess turned her head slowly and gazed with wide, fearful eyes over her shoulder down into the newly formed hole and saw only a pit of fire deep down in what had once been the dungeons of the castle. She tightened her grip, and tried to hoist herself further up onto the ledge of stone that had remained, panting harder. All fifty stories of the castle below her were collapsing or had already collapsed, forming a large gaping hole that seemed to open up to her like the mouth of death ready to swallow her. She panted, and as the ledge within which her sword was wedged gave a jolt, yelped in fear. And couldn't help but find her situation ironic: She'd been wanting to find a way out of getting raped by a Bosnian, and now that an opportunity presented itself, she didn't want to take it. She groaned, and pressed her face against the marble again, as it began to tilt down, towards the pit. What did I ever do to make fate hate me so much? Or is it just that I'm too hard to please? The ledge gave a jerk and slanted even more, and she sighed. Well, there's only one thing I can do now . . . 3-2-1. . .It was then that the ledge fully gave way, and with a loud shriek, the Fae girl fell with her back to the fire below, screaming at the top of her lungs, eyes shut tight, arms held out from her body as the wind and sounds of battle rushed quickly past her ears.

"KING! LOOK!" Grindelwald shouted as he let the body of a Bosnian Warrior he'd just beheaded fall to the cracked, blood covered marble floor. Jareth whipped his head around, some blood in fact covering his black armor, face, and cape, and as his eyes followed the goblin's pointing finger, stared. Stories above, a girl shrieked as she went hurtling down through the holes made in the central area of the castle due to floors having given way previously. Her drawn out cry was full of fear and almost unnatural . . . and it touched something in him. Backing up a bit, killing the barbarian he was fighting easily with his sword through the Bosnian's head, he sheathed his weapon and rushed forward, shouting to the girl, "HOLD ON!" With that he launched himself into the air and did a quick flip off of the ledge, transforming as he did so into an owl and flying across the large vacant area just as the girl came to be right in front of him. Changing back quickly into his Fae form, he swept his strong Fae arms around her slender waist as he collided with her. She yelped as he did so, and her hands landed firmly on his back as her legs slammed up into his own as her course was redirected. And he couldn't tell if the yelp was from relief that she was alive or fear of who he could be. Before he had any more time to wonder about such a thing the two slammed into the ledge across from where he'd been fighting, and rolled head over heels against the stone floor until finally, she was lying face up and spread eagled beneath him as he crouched down over her, his hands firmly on either side of her face.

He blinked at the girl, who was panting hard with her eyes shut tight. Then the Goblin King turned, gazing at Grindelwald and his legion still on the other ledge. Taking in the fighting around him and the girl, Jareth knew that he needed the goblins to give him cover while he assessed the situation. So, sitting back a bit on his heels, he flicked the wrist furthest from the goblins, forming a crystal quickly in that palm, "STAND BACK!" he shouted, and the goblins nodded, rushing away from the edge of their ledge, before he tossed the crystal as hard as he could at a massive statue of some Latvanian Fae male on their side of the hole, hitting the foundation of the marble structure with his crystal. The magical object shattered, and sent out a small blast of magic that made the foundation of the statue on that side crumble away, before the newly unsettled sculpture fell forward and formed a bridge across the hole. "COME ACROSS!" he shouted, and the goblins nodded, quickly clamoring over the newly made pathway to rush up to their king, taking down Warriors and Bolfs that got in their way as they did so.

He looked Grindelwald directly in the eyes as the goblin leader rushed up to him, grunting, holding his blood smeared silver sword in one hand and a bloody axe he'd taken from a fallen Bosnian in the other. "Grindelwald, I need you and the other goblins to keep the Warriors away for now. Can you do that?" the goblin bowed low, "But of course, my king." Turning, he rushed off and told the other goblins what Jareth had ordered, and the legion immediately set about holding the Warriors and their pets off from the Fae King and girl. Turning, Jareth breathed hard, and faced the girl beneath him. Arissa stared back up at him with frightened blue eyes, "Y-you're Jareth of the Underground. The Goblin King?" she whispered, tears streaking down in relief as she panted, her chest heaving up and down quickly as she gasped for breath. Jareth blinked, gazing into those wide blue eyes. "Yes, that's me. But who are you?" He whispered, blinking, brushing a strand of white hair from her face. He knew he'd seen those eyes somewhere before, but he couldn't place a name to them . . . then it hit him.

Jareth frowned, walking through the silent Latvanian ball room. It was a massive, beautiful white chamber, with dark blue and silver drapes hanging in the marble rafters and large, gorgeous tapestries hanging down the walls. Some Pegasi and Fairies flew up above those in the room, carrying behind them long, glimmering streamers and banners of dark blues and silvers with ancient Fae symbols that meant good fortune and long life etched into the material. Down below the creatures, Elves and Fae alike stood in their very best clothing, gazing at the small raised stone platform in the center of the room, its steps leading down from its stage like top now covered in a blue velvet material. And in the center of the stage, was the thing that everyone had come to see. Or rather, the being everyone had come to see.

In an ornate silver crib with Elves, Unicorns, Fae, Fairies, Pegasi, and vines with gorgeous flowers blossoming from them etched into the sides, lay a small Fae babe, the first born to Queen Aryanna of Latvania. The Princess Arissa. She'd been born only a week before, and now, lay beneath the dark blue folds of her silk blanket, an arm wrapped around a doll in the shape of a unicorn. Jareth blinked, as he neared the stage, and turning his head, scanned the room, wearing a dark blue coat over a white shirt. Hanging against his chest by a chain from his neck was an amulet that looked like a crescent moon with its side turned upwards. He wore dark silver tights, dark blue boots, and black gloves. Blue streaks were in his blonde mullet, and a long glittery midnight blue cape that matched his jacket flowed from two black metal cuffs on his shoulders. The Fae King knew all eyes in the room were on him, and he could see the Angel Queen Vatania in a large pink and gold dress with her hair up in her own crown that was themed after the sun with its long, thin spires, the Demon Lord Trojant in his best black armor and cape, and Queen Aryanna in her own dark blue and silver dress that brought out the color of her skin and hair beautifully standing on the edge of the crowd across from him on the other side of the platform.

The Fae Queen's hair flowed beautifully down her back in silken waves away from her gorgeous face as her crown rested just behind her bangs. Beside her stood King Azul, who had one arm wrapped around his wife's waist while the other's hand held one of hers in his silver glove, him wearing a dark blue vest over a silver shirt, black trousers, and dark blue boots, his golden crown shining in the light provided in the chamber by massive silver chandeliers hanging up above them all. Beside the Latvanian couple stood the Bosnian King Leon, his arms folded firmly before his fur vest that he wore, some bandages wrapped firmly along his wrists and up to his elbows, wearing beige trousers that tucked into his large brown boots. His axe was strapped to his waist and his dark muddy brown eyes watched Jareth's every move, his bearded face set in a frown. The metal band with ancient Fae symbols for bravery etched into it was wrapped firmly around his head, signifying that he was in fact the current King of Bosnia. Jareth knew why they were all watching him. He was the youngest Fae Ruler present, having only been in power for about 292 years, and this was the first time he'd attended a celebration of the birth of another ruler's baby. This was a time when he would either shine with competence, or fall with ignorance. Gritting his teeth, the Fae slowly made his way to the steps leading up to the Latvanian babe, more nervous about this ceremony than of anything he had ever faced before.

Each ruler of each land was required to come and offer something to each babe born to the royal families of another land precisely one week after the child was born. That had been something decided upon in a 100 year meeting years before Jareth's own birth. Jareth had of course known that fact when he'd been coronated, and knew what typically went on in a ceremony such as this. Each ruler came up, gave the child what they had for them, and then left after blessing the babe in front of everyone. The blessing was typically some form of declaration of what they'd given the child, the ruler in question stating their own rank, and a phrase along the lines of "May this child live long and prosper!" before the ruler went and rejoined the crowd of onlookers. The Angel Queen had brought Arissa a massive golden sculpture of a swan, the Demon Lord had brought a ring made from the stone of his volcanic kingdom with a red stone set in the middle of it, and Leon had brought wrapped in some fur a large slab of meat he'd gotten after slaying his "very best Taurvid calf". The swan and meat had been laid on the velvet rug around the base of the ornate crib, while the ring had been slipped onto Arissa's pointer finger of her right hand. Jareth had nothing in his pockets of his coat or anything in his hands, but that was often typical of the Underground Fae Rulers in these ceremonies. While Latvanian and Bosnian Fae did not use magic on an everyday basis, the Underground Fae did, and so it was traditional for the Goblin King to always form a gift using magic or to use a spell upon the babies born to the other kingdoms. Now it was only a matter of Jareth deciding what he'd actually make for young Arissa. But that wasn't why he was nervous, either. After all, he could just form for her a crystal with energy moving inside of it which would have in its spectrum all of the colors of the rainbow and be done with the whole matter. No. What was making him nervous was one thing that this ceremony didn't have that the ones he had been to as a young Fae did. And that was sound.

Even if the crowds at these things were quiet, one could always count on the baby making some gurgling noise, or crying, or . . . something. But here, Arissa made no such noise. He blinked as he neared the crib. He was now on top of the platform. Slowly he moved over, leaned over the crib, and looked down into the sapphire blue eyes of the Latvanian Princess as the child gazed quietly back at him. He sighed. So, the rumors WERE true. The young Fae had in fact been born mute. The child had no voice with which to make even the smallest giggle. This was the first time such a thing had happened to any Fae, and it made Jareth sigh before reaching down with a hand and brushing a finger across Arissa's pale cheek. Such a thing alone was enough to cause his mind to be unable to focus on anything he could do for the babe. After all, he'd always expected for his first ceremony that he'd attend as a ruler to be one with a noisy baby. That had been what he'd prepared himself for. And to not have Arissa making a single sound . . . it threw him off. And now, he had no idea what to do.

In his scatter brained state, as the baby Fae gazed up at him with her beautiful eyes as he stroked her cheek, Jareth recalled a sound he'd heard that morning as he'd exited his bathroom to get dressed for the ceremony. It'd been a gorgeous song sung by a beautiful bright blue songbird perched on the ledge of his open window. The Goblin King had sat on the ledge and gazed down at the bird as he listened to its song, stroking its feathers lightly with his finger. If there was one thing he was thankful for, it was the fact that since he turned into a bird on a regular basis, the other birds of his kingdom trusted him enough to allow him to do such a thing. As he was recalling the beautiful song, he suddenly knew what he'd give to Arissa. And so he smiled down at the Fae child who frowned at him, clearly expecting him to do something as the other rulers had done. "Don't you worry, Princess. I know precisely what to give you," he grinned, now wiggling his finger that had been stroking her face in front of her eyes. She grinned, and reaching up with one hand from beneath her blanket, gripped his finger and tugged it to her open mouth as if to suck on it. He smirked. Or perhaps, the child knew what he was about to do. "You're a smart little babe, aren't you?" he murmured. With that, the Goblin King flicked his other wrist, forming a crystal within it that had a blue tint in its edges. The girl blinked, her eyes widening, as he moved it around his hand as he moved his hand slowly back and forth, contact juggling the crystal before her very eyes as he moved it closer to her. Reaching out, the girl made to touch it, and he pulled his hand back, taking the crystal just out of her reach, smiling calmly at her, "Hold on. . ." The baby held out her hands for the crystal a little longer, but once she was sure he wasn't going to give her the crystal at that moment, she flopped her hands back down before she turned to him, her blue eyes looking curiously into his mismatched ones. He smiled, and twisted his wrist around, the crystal rolling up of off it to sit on his fingertips as he held it the object up between them.

Slowly, Jareth moved the magical object up to her lips, tilting his hand just a little as she began to move her lips wider over the crystal, sucking on it a little, her other hands reaching up to hold onto it over his own fingers. The crystal slowly changed into a light blue misty solution, and flowed into her mouth in a long blue trail. Once it was all inside of her, he smiled, and moving his hand over, rubbed her pale cheek once more, as she closed her mouth. A flicker of energy flashed in her eyes, and then she opened her mouth and giggled, smiling up at him, and held her hands up to him, wanting him to pick her up. A gasp fell over the crowd, and he chuckled, reaching down with both of his hands, straightening his back a little from where he'd been hunched over her crib, and gently picked her up, pulling the child out from under her covers to cradle her in his arms with her long silver gown hanging about a foot longer than her body, the light material floating on the air. She smiled, and reaching up, ran a hand over his right cheek as he grinned down at her as she gurgled and smiled up at him, squealing every once and a while.

Aryanna and Azul both took one step forward, the mother having a hand over her mouth, tears of happiness at her daughter having a voice rolling down her cheeks, the Latvanian Queen shaking just a little. Jareth turned, and faced the crowd, his eyes locking on Aryanna and Azul, "I, Jareth the Goblin King of the Underground, have given Princess Arissa of Latvania the gift of a voice. This is a voice as beautiful as the greatest song ever sung by the most magnificent of songbirds. I hereby bless this child with a long, prosperous life full of joy and happiness." A thunderous round of applause rose up within the crowd, and Aryanna rushed forward, smiling at the Goblin King and her daughter. Lifting up her dress a little, the Latvanian Queen quickly climbed the stairs before rushing over to Jareth, "Oh Jareth! Bless you!" she put her palms on the sides of his face, and quickly gave him two light kisses on his cheeks, and Jareth chuckled warmly as she did so, pulling back, the Fae woman smiling into his mismatched eyes. All he could see in those deep blue eyes was a grateful spirit. She sighed, happy tears streaming down her cheeks, "Bless you." Turning to Arissa, she smiled, and held out her hands. Jareth quickly shifted his arms so that she could take her daughter back.

As Arissa was moved into her mother's arms, Azul ran up, only slowing down as he reached his wife and daughter. Putting an arm around Aryanna's shoulders and his other hand on Arissa's small amount of snow white hair, he turned to Jareth, "Thank you. Truly. But how did you do it? How did you fix her voice?" Jareth smiled weakly back, "I did not, King Azul. I merely recalled the beautiful sounds a songbird made on my window this morning. I transferred all of the good things about that sound into Arissa. Nothing more." Aryanna smiled and turned to him, as Arissa grinned at him and continued to giggle at him, reaching out for him. Jareth chuckled, and held up his finger for the babe to grasp. He couldn't deny that Arissa was adorable. . . Aryanna then spoke to him, "Really, thank you, Goblin King." He turned to her and bowed his head a little, "It was the least I could do, Queen Aryanna." He slid his finger out of Arissa's hand and took the Queen's hand in his glove instead, pressing his lips to the pale flesh on the back of it, bowing to her fully. Standing up, he smiled his warmest smile at her, "Many blessings to you both."

Jareth blinked down at the girl, the King still gazing into those deep blue sapphire eyes. And tilted his head, "Arissa?" he whispered, blinking, "Princess Arissa?" She nodded quickly, "Yes sir. King Jareth, have you seen my father? Is he okay?" Jareth sighed, and closed his eyes, tilting his head down a little. He had seen her father . . . but his answer to the second question wasn't one he wanted to share . . . he and King Azul had been fighting off some Bosnian Warriors when a stray flying axe from another fight had slammed right between the Latvanian King's eyes, sending him to the ground. Jareth had tried to rush over to help, but as a Bolf had lunged forward and grabbed hold of the Goblin King's armored right arm, the Bosnian Warrior closest to Azul had taken the opportunity to slash off the King's head with the Latvanian King's own sword, killing the Fae King. Jareth remembered the pain he'd felt when his own father had been murdered by a Bosnian Warrior in battle, and the last thing he wanted to see was that same pain in Arissa's eyes upon hearing about her father. "He's dead, isn't he?" Arissa's sad, weak voice croaked.

Jareth's eyes opened and he turned to the girl, who gazed up at him with her own pain-filled ones, tears streaking down her cheeks. The Latvanian Princess was shaking all over. Her right hand reached up and gripped Jareth's shoulder, "He's dead. . . My father's dead. . ." Jareth sighed, and nodded in the affirmative. Arissa shut her eyes tight, and the hand that was on his shoulder went back to her face to cover her mouth and nose. With that she began to gasp and sob as she cried into her hand, whimpering. He blinked, frowning, "Arissa, I've got to get you out of here. You need to get far far away from this battle. Okay?" Arissa's eyes shot open, and she stared at him, blinking, "I can't do that," she muttered, and the firmness in her voice took Jareth by surprise. He frowned, "Why not?" "My father's dead. My mother's dead. I'm the only one left in the royal family to uphold our honor and defend our land. I have to stay." Jareth frowned at the girl. He was pretty sure that this girl wouldn't be able to hold her own in battle . . . suddenly, something glinted in the light from a fire nearby. The light was being reflected by something down at her waist. Turning his head around a little to see the object better, he frowned, at the blood stained crown poking out of her pocket. It was unmistakably Aryanna's old crown . . . Reaching down, he frowned and quickly slid the object out of her pocket and held it up before him as he sat on his heels, blinking, turning it over in his hands. He could tell the blood was fresh . . . he turned to her, blinking, "How did this blood get here? Did you get wounded?" he asked, with only seriousness in his tone. She blinked, "No sir." He frowned, "Then whose blood is this?" She blinked, and remembered the Bosnian Warriors who had attacked her in her mother's chambers. As the memories flooded her mind, the Princess shut her eyes tight, choking out another sob. He sighed, "Why don't you just tell me it all from the beginning? What happened when the Bosnian Army attacked?"

As soon as the Fae Princess had finished the story at the point where she'd fallen and he'd caught her, Jareth frowned, his mind already forming a plan to get her out. He may have to lie, but it would be worth getting the only heir to the Latvanian throne out of the battle alive. He had no idea how long Latvania could remain a kingdom without a ruler, and so Arissa was no doubt her kingdom's only hope as her mother's only blood descendent. "Arissa," he took a deep breath and let it out, "You have to get out. . . I know you want to uphold your family's honor by defending this place. But you were smart when you got this crown. . ." he held it up, blinking at her, "You have to keep this safe. And it's not safe here. If you get hurt, the Bosnians could get it and break it. We don't need to let that happen. It was your mother's, right? We need to keep it safe." She frowned at him, "The crown has gotten broken before. And it's been repaired." "By some craftsmen that live in this building, right? Tell me, wasn't that Nathaniel's family?" Her eyes widened, as tears began to spill down her cheeks. He was right.

Jareth smiled weakly. He'd assumed that someone close to the royal family might be in charge of that . . . luckily, when he'd guessed Nathaniel, it'd been the right guess to make. "Y-yes," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly. He leaned down closer to her, blinking at her. She opened her eyes, and looked back at him as he continued, "Then we need to get the crown to a safe place. Because he's gone. Am I right?" She frowned, "I. . . I suppose so." He blinked, "Arissa, I can assure you. That safe place is my castle in the Underground. I can send you there like that. . ." he held up a hand and snapped his fingers before putting the crown back into her hands, "But first, I need you to eat this," he muttered, and flicked his wrist, forming a peach in it. "What's that?" she whispered, frowning at the fruit. He sighed, "This is a peach that's been enchanted. It'll weaken your energy streams to the point where I can impose my magic on you like I need to in order to transport you to my castle. I assure you, that is all that I will do. I swear that on my kingdom and my family's name." She blinked, frowning, and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the stone with a deep sigh, "Alright."

Arissa quickly took large bites out of the peach, swallowing the pieces of fruit as quickly as possible as more tremors worked their way through the castle floors. Jareth gritted his teeth, quickly turning his hand to help her eat the entire fruit. The Goblin King was spending half of the time watching her and the other half watching his red legion taking down the Bosnians, gritting his teeth. It was the same fruit he'd told that dwarf to give to Sarah, and while for Sarah it only took one bite to knock the mortal out, with a Fae the entire peach was needed to knock them out and weaken their streams. And he knew that the more time Arissa spent eating the peach, the less time he had to get her and his goblins out of the castle before it collapsed. "I'm done," she whispered, eyes lowered, and he turned, gazing at the pit and core left in his hand. He smiled at her, "Good girl." He tossed it into the air nearby and it shattered in a bunch of pink sparkles. Whipping out his crystal, he reached down and cradled her head, holding it up as her eyes slowly became half lidded, "Now go to sleep little one. I promise you'll be okay," he whispered. She groaned, already weak and half asleep, then sighed, going limp, her eyes fluttering closed. He flicked the crystal again, and she disappeared in a shower of silver sparks, to form in miniature form lying down inside the crystal, along with the crown. Smiling, he stood up and tossed the crystal up once before catching it. Then the King turned, facing a window nearby that had already been blasted open, and pulling his arm back, took a firm, long step forward, flinging his arm forward and letting the crystal fly. The thing zoomed straight through the window and out into the air, and he watched it until it disappeared. With that Jareth groaned and rubbed his temple. He hadn't expected the girl to know that the crown had been remade after it'd been broken in Latvanian history. But luckily, she didn't know that the Latvanian Royal Craftsmen weren't the only ones who could repair or replace the crown. His goblins could even do it. Of course, maybe Arissa actually did know that, but since she was still so upset over what had happened and him reminding her of her beheaded friend, she hadn't thought about that. Either way, it had all worked out alright and now she was safely away from the battle. That was the important thing. Turning, Jareth faced the battle his goblins were engaging in behind him, and drew his sword again, lunging forward to reenter the fray.

Moments later, the Fae ruler fought alongside Grindelwald. The goblin leaned up to him, "Sire! The castle will fall soon! What are your orders?" Jareth gritted his teeth. Now that he knew the Princess was out of the castle, there really wasn't any reason to have to continue to stay inside of the structure . . . "Try to get as many Bosnians, Latvanians, Demons, and Angels out of the castle immediately! We have to evacuate as well! As quickly as possible!" he shouted, and drove his sword through the chest of the Bosnian before him, tearing straight through his heart and killing the barbarian. "Sir! The BOSNIANS?" Grindelwald gasped in disbelief. Jareth frowned, "It's too risky to leave too many in here. If they don't die, they could be lying in wait when the Latvanians return to rebuild. We don't need that. . . we need to drive them out and back to their borders, if that's possible. . . feel free to push them out of windows if you want. . . tell everyone that," Jareth muttered, lunging forward and taking down another warrior and his Bolf. Grindelwald nodded, and turning, rushed off to tell the other goblins what the King had said in order to send Jareth's orders down the line of goblin fighters.

The Fae's golden eyes gazed out over the Goblin City and Labyrinth as he leaned out over the window to the throne room of the Underground. Folding his arms and resting them on the ledge, he tilted his head down, frowning, his hair fluttering in the wind, the silky locks being of a deep red color that changed to orange as the locks went on down to their ends and then to gold at their tips. The last rays of sunlight were about to disappear from the darkening sky and the red and purple light such a thing produced made his eyes flare up in color. Such fire in his eyes was a sharp contrast to the beige billowy shirt he wore over his lean, muscular form, the brown vest he wore over that, and the black pants he wore that were neatly tucked into his brown boots. The Fae also wore black gloves, and was flexing the fingers on his left hand as he watched goblins move around their City. The sounds of the City were dying down, and the Labyrinth itself seemed to croon softly as if it too was going to sleep. But the Fae male was far from being sleepy. He'd assured Jareth that he'd stay to keep watch over the Goblin City in case there was a surprise attack while the Goblin King was away, and he so was not about to go to sleep. Not until the King returned. . . "James," a calm voice murmured from a doorway leading into the empty throne room.

He turned his head, gazing over his shoulder at the woman as she walked in, smiling weakly at him. The Fae woman had bright emerald green eyes that gazed calmly at him as she walked over, the half inch heels on her shoes clicking on the stone floor as she did so. The shoes were of a light, airy design with plenty of holes on top that let her feet breathe even if she walked around for long periods of time, and were a dark black color that matched her dress wonderfully. It was a long, chocolate brown dress with a design of silver vines and black flowers criss crossing and looping all around the skirt, upper torso, and long sleeves that clung tightly to her arms. The hems of the dress were of a chocolate brown base with some silver vines and black flowers on them as well. While the neckline was modest, the dress still fit her beautifully, with a small black sash magically attached to it and wrapped around her waist. The woman wore smooth, silky black gloves and carried a book that held information on every worker in the castle and what they needed to do in the upcoming days. Her long dark brown hair was swept back and tied with a black ribbon to hang in a ponytail fashion down her back. Over the day, the ponytail had come a bit loose, and two bangs hung beside either side of her face. Despite the loose strands and darker colors she wore, however, Viola still shined with her natural beauty.

The important thing about her, though, was the long golden chain with black stones inlaid inside of it that hung around her waist. At the end of the chain, just a few inches above where her knees came to in the dress, was a huge golden ring. On the ring were at least fifty golden keys of varying shapes and sizes. The keys could open almost every room in the entire Underground Castle, and also showed all present that she was in fact known as the Lady of the Castle, or in other words, the head maid.

In earlier years, before Jareth became Goblin King, she was his own personal nanny and caregiver. But James knew all too well that the bond between her and the King went much further than that. She was very much a surrogate mother to Jareth while he was growing up, if not more. This explained why he heightened her to such a good position when he was made King by his grandfather. Now, she had her own servant staff to tend that tended to her and kept her chambers tidy. On top of that, she had the authority to tell everyone else in the castle who was there as a servant what to do, whether they were Fae or Goblin. In this way tended to the castle and made sure it was kept running smoothly. In its walls, she was only second to the King. She would also be just second to the Queen, if Jareth were to ever marry anyone.

James smiled weakly at the Fae woman, "Hello, Viola." He turned and leaned against the ledge, now facing her, sighing. She smiled calmly back at the Fae male, walking up to him, "James, don't worry. I'm sure your brother's fine,"she whispered.

James sighed and nodded with his head bowed, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He hated it when his brother Jareth had to go off to fight. Especially when it was against Bosnians. Ever since their father was killed in battle with some Bosnians, he always feared that Jareth might meet the same fate one day. Viola sighed at his clear nervousness and put a hand on his shoulder, "James, Jareth is a good fighter. And will no doubt be back any minute now. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he . . . Wait . . . what the. . ." she frowned, her eyebrows creasing, gazing at something behind James. James frowned, stood upright, and turned. The two Fae stared, as the crystal flew quickly towards the throne room window.

James frowned, "He normally comes back in owl form. . ." "Maybe he's using a crystal so that he can transport himself and the goblin soldiers he took with him back here at once?" Viola said, shrugging as she frowned, watching the crystal come at top speed towards them. "But his crystals usually just float . . . not zoom. . ." James muttered quietly, frowning. At that, the redheaded Fae turned to Viola, staring with wide, frightened eyes at the other Fae, "Do you think he's badly hurt?" he asked fearfully. Viola gritted her teeth, gazing sadly at him, and turned back to look at the crystal again before. . . "DUCK!" she gasped, grabbing James and jerking him down as her own knees hit the floor as she crouched down, so that the crystal didn't slam into either of their heads. The two slowly stood, and turning, stared as the crystal hovered over the throne. James frowned, and took one step towards the crystal. At that moment, it shattered in a shower of glitter, and a girl formed within said shower. He stared. The girl had some blood on her, and a bloody crown could be seen held tightly in her hands, and the two could clearly tell she had the pale skin and hair of Latvanian royalty beneath the long silver dressing gown she wore. Her silver slipper covered feet hung in the air for a moment as she hovered in the air above the throne, before she slowly was lowered by the magic that had been in the crystal down onto Jareth's throne, her legs flopped over one arm of the throne and her neck lying against the other arm. As the two watched, her seemingly still chest began to rise and fall again, as she breathed easily through her mouth as she slept. James and Viola turned to one another, blinking. Then James cracked a grin, "Well, it'd definitely not Jareth." Viola smirked and winked at the red head, "You may be right. . . I definitely can think of a few ways she's a bit different from him. . ."

A/N: So, was it worth the wait? What words would you use to describe this chapter? What are your thoughts about it? And please, is there anything that I need to fix or revise grammatically? I'd love to know, so please oh please write a review! I love reviews! Just no flamers, please. I like constructive criticism, not detrimental criticism. :) But hey, Jareth got to save a damsel in distress, now didn't he? *sniff*I'm so happy for him.*sniff* And as for Jareth's fighting style, I chose to have him spin around a lot because I wanted it to be close to how he danced in the movie in "Dance Magic Dance" I just feel like Jareth would have drab fighting styles. He'd spice them up a little. At least to me, he would.