A/N: The Goblin King makes his entrance! And what an entrance it is...

Sorry this is a bit shorter, but what happens (or WHO happens) totally makes up for it ;). From this point on, life is never going to be the same for Sarah. Enjoy my dear readers!

Chapter Four: Such a Fooled Heart

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Bran sensed Sarah's peculiar shift in mood and touched her hand. She jerked it away in a panicked reaction. He stared at her in surprise.

"Sarah," he whispered. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." Again her voice wavered, but she refused to look at him and kept her gaze straight ahead on the happy couple placing the rings on each other's fingers. "Quiet."

His curious gaze lingered on her a little longer before resigning. The rest of the ceremony passed in a haze until Jarred kissed his new bride and everyone sent up a cheer with enthusiastic clapping. In a few more moments everyone was directed to the reception area on the immaculate lawns. Sarah fingered the velvety petals of the purple and yellow flowers beside them as they waited to file out the aisle with the other guests, but she wasn't sure she felt like sticking around to socialise in her current state of mind. A question pulsed over and over again across all thoughts.

What would I say if he asked me that now?

She didn't have an answer to that question, but deep in her heart...she wanted to find out.

Bran assertively entwined her arm through his like a gentleman escorting a lady, but he did it with too much force for her to find it endearing. When she tried to pull away he only gripped her tighter.

"Bran," she hissed. "Please let go."

He did not even glance at her, let alone answer. Her second attempt to free herself failed too.

"Bran, let me go right now. I don't care how many people are standing around watching, I will..."

Before she could finish her threat, he loosed her abruptly, but she suspected it wasn't her measly warning that had done the trick. She was greatly confused by his irrational behaviour and planned to point it out as soon as they weren't so close to prying ears or Amber's vigilance. This only added to her unspoken suspicions about him, that instinctive feeling that some unnameable issue was off and would only be revealed by time. A dangerous side to Bran seemed to peer out from its hiding place at last.

Amber and Michael decided to mingle a bit which left Bran and Sarah alone in the midst of a large wedding party. The wind picked up and blew the white and lilac gauzy material hanging around the pavilions into rippling waves. It was all so lovely and yet Sarah no longer could enjoy it.

"Bran," she immediately began, "what is wrong with you? You just...I don't know! You were acting so weird for a second out there." She kept her voice low to avoid attention. They stood towards the edge of the white canopy.

He grabbed a glass of punch and took a long drink.

"That's not alcohol," Sarah muttered.

"I know. Doesn't matter though since alcohol doesn't affect me anyway."

"What?"

Sarah could not decide whether to be upset or more confused.

His eyes seemed to flash with an inner light when he finally looked at her. She physically took a step back. He pressed forward.

"Dear, dear Sarah," he purred. "I am sorry if I've frightened you. May we talk somewhere more private so I can properly apologise and explain myself to you?"

All those senses of foreboding crashed down upon her and screamed at her to stay with lots of eyes and ears around.

"No one's listening so why not here?"

"Sarah, it's very important. There is something serious I wish to ask you and to...to tell to you, and I'd much rather it was in private. We don't have to go very far, just out of hearing of all these people I don't know."

It was the "don't have to go very far" piece that swayed her, and she slowly nodded her head even though a part of her started calling herself 'stupid' for agreeing. He offered a wan smile and beckoned her to follow as they moved away from the pavilions towards some trees off to the side still in sight of all the guests. Her unease lessened when she realised they weren't wandering off where no one could see, although another part of her wondered why she was being so paranoid with a guy who had been kind and attentive all those weeks.

"I am going to be forward with you," said Bran. His black hair stirred in the breeze, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "If you haven't noticed by now, you really are oblivious, but I guess I will just tell you: I like you. I'm very interested in you, Sarah. Being your friend is wonderful, but it's lacking for me because I hope for so much more."

Sarah's heartbeat thudded in her chest. This profession was not what she was anticipating. And now he watched her expectantly.

"Bran," she said slowly, "your honesty really means a lot to me. Like I said earlier, I don't know you very well." She blew out a breath and shifted her weight uneasily. She really disliked saying 'no' or causing hurt to anyone, but she had learned over time that there were moments you had to wound a heart to do what was best for it in the long run. "I'm flattered, really I am, but...but I don't think of you like that."

His earnestness faded from his countenance like petals wilting under a hot sun. He took a step closer. "Are you willing to give me a chance at least? To find out?"

"No, Bran. I'm sorry."

She didn't know what else to say since there was no easy way to let a guy down, to reject someone. She looked down at her toes and fidgeted with her fingers while waiting for his response.

It was not what she expected either.

Cold, hard fingers gripped her arm. Her head jerked up and glimpsed a fire burning in his eyes, his mouth set in a firm line and his brows drawing down in a determined frown. Before she even knew how to react, he spat words into her face.

"So it seems he still has too much of a hold on you." He bared his teeth. "I was afraid that was the case. I could have given you so much, but you still toss me aside! Well, it seems I'll just have to adjust my plan for you, Sarah Williams."

Before she could scream for help, they disappeared.

When Sarah opened her eyes again, she and Bran stood in a completely different location. The wedding and all the guests were gone. The sun still descended down from the sky, but they now were in the middle of a grassy field with the silhouette of civilisation a few miles away.

Out in the middle of nowhere with no one to help her. The scream that lodged in her throat as the world shifted around her finally tore loose as she stumbled backwards.

Bran advanced. His pace was slow and steady like a fierce animal stalking its prey which was as good as trapped.

"Who are you?" she cried.

Fear wrapped around her heart and squeezed her chest, but Sarah was not one to give up easily. She had faced a horrendous Bog of incredible stench, a goblin army shooting cannons at her, a labyrinthine mess of mazes and traps, a dark oubliette, a nearly fatal betrayal, and then a Goblin King powerful and assertive and alluring with her baby brother in his grasp. No matter who this man was, she was not going to back down. Magic was nothing new to her.

"Out of all the things you could be saying, you ask who I am?" He laughed but it was cruel and harsh. "Although, I suppose strange occurrences no longer are a shock to you. Who am I?"

His back straightened as his posture transformed. He looked a proud lord or king whose presence could not be tainted by lesser folk and gazed down on her like a specimen. The wind had been still till now, starting to rush over the field with loud whispers in the grass. Clouds moved over the sun, clouds she had not thought were there.

The black collared shirt and slacks shifted into robes of pure sable, the red tie becoming a layer of crimson silk at the collar, the only colour in the dark ensemble. Even his short hair lengthened till it almost brushed his shoulders. No mask concealed him anymore. A shadow was cast about him like a cloak that could be felt more than seen by mortal eyes. Bran had turned into a frightful figure of power and darkness.

His voice resonated over the field.

"I am Fiachna, the Raven Mage."

He moved toward her again with greater purpose set in his jaw, but she frantically glanced around for a way out. The field was too large to run to find shelter amidst the trees, the city was too far away to be of any help, and the man she thought was merely that had turned into a magic-wielding creature before her very eyes.

"What are you planning to do with me?" she asked. Her green eyes were wide.

"Oh, wonderful things," he said with a wave of his hand. "But why would I spoil the surprise? You'll have to find out for yourself when we get out of this wretched place. You are coming with me back to my home whether you wish it or not."

He lunged forward. Sarah didn't care about logic at that point. She turned and sprinted through the grass—doffing her heels while he had been speaking so her bare feet could speed her faster over the ground.

This being was not just frightening: he was sinister. She'd faced many a different kind of fearful thing, but something about his gaze—or something missing there—terrified her. There was absolutely no doubt he would either kill her, torture her in horrible ways, or take something even more precious to a woman than pain.

In an instant, Bran—Fiachna appeared right in front of Sarah. In her haste she stumbled and fell back to the ground to avoid falling straight into his arms. As she desperately crawled backwards her mind instantly went out to the only thing that pierced through the haze of fear and imminence. The dream.

"Help!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Jareth! Jareth!"

Fiachna froze at the cry that flew from her lips. He recoiled visibly and staggered two steps away.

"NO!" he roared.

His hand whipped out and struck in her direction.

Although the hand didn't touch Sarah, her head snapped back as if from a physical blow. When she tried to scream again she couldn't even open her mouth. The mage had done something to silence her.

But the words were already spoken.

A rumble undulated across the ground. Fiachna rushed forward to capture his prey, but it was already too late.

While Sarah still reeled from the blow to her head, a crystal sphere rolled over the green grass in-between her and the black figure. The light reflected off its clear surface in flashes of gold and silver like a beacon of hope.

A crystal of that kind could mean only one thing.

The mage threw up his arms when the sphere darkened and burst into a thousand shards all aimed his direction. They fell to the ground as though bouncing off an invisible wall. His arms fell back to his sides with clenched fists, and he turned his golden eyes on a point behind Sarah with venomous features bent on his foe. An unseen force hit him with such power that he was thrown into the air. Yet as he flew backwards he shimmered and twisted until his body formed into a raven in flight. His flailing arms turned to adept wings pulling on air and black robes metamorphosed to glossy feathers.

Sarah gasped. He had been the raven that stalked her at her old house.

The large bird gave one last cry before turning flight and disappearing into thin air.

Relief washed over Sarah like standing under the warm water in the shower on a cold morning. Her hands trembled and the right side of her face was sore, but she was alive. She barely had time to register what had happened before the complete realisation of who had saved her hit full force. However, this blow did not leave a bruise.

The dream from the night before rushed back to her: the raven pursuing and the owl rushing in to fight him off, clearly a true warning that she had only been partially mindful of. With painful slowness she rose to her feet and steeled herself to turn around and face her rescuer. When she did, her breath caught in her throat and her body stiffened.

A face etched into the eternal recesses of her thought. A voice transcribed, forever haunting her mind.

There he was standing twenty feet behind her.

A/N: PLEASE review! I need some encouragement to keep going!

Until next time when our favourite character finally makes his full appearance...