Pre-chapter notes:

After centuries of persecution and abuse, the Goblins have revolted against the Fae and are currently eking out a rough existence, always just one step away from annihilation. Vesryn Danaaru, former pit fighter and Arena champion, now must lead these people who have claimed him as their King.

But Vesryn knows that he's not suited to such a task. If the Goblins are ever to thrive as a species, they will need a true King, perhaps even one gifted by the Goddess, to save their people and find them a haven.

Vesryn may not be the King the Goblins need, but he does have a son. A son that shows all the signs of a phenomenal magical power, as if blessed by Danu Herself. And Vesryn's task, along with his wife Helayne, is to raise their son to be a great warrior, wizard, and protector; to lead their people to a new home, and at last… safety.

I should warn the readers… this is a relatively grim story, a bit darker in parts than my usual offerings. This is not a romance, there is no smut, at least not the romantic kind. But there is violence, mentions of non-consensual sex, and death (it is a war story, after all). I do try to get across the horror of the situation without overloading on the descriptions, but some parts might still be disturbing for some readers.

But remember… I am a sucker for happy endings, and while you read this you should remember that you already know how the story ends. As sad as this tale gets in places… it also has some uplifting parts. And hope.

State of New York, USA – Sarah's Third Year of College

Her homework finished, her study notes printed and safely in her binder, Sarah took a deep breath and smiled. Now, she could read that book with a clean conscience…

She loved books like these… bound in leather, tooled with brass or even gold, there was something more… real, about books like these. Opening the cover, she could see that the paper (or parchment) within was a lovely antique cream color, the words printed within a variation of a sort of calligraphy, but too uniform to have been done by hand. Perhaps the Othánas used a printing press like the ones from the 1500's. Unlike some of the medieval manuscripts she'd seen, it was surprisingly easy on the eyes.

Within the first hour, she was absolutely spellbound. Jareth had mentioned that the Goblin Kingdom had broken off from the Fae some centuries ago, and she had naively thought that it was a similar situation to the American colonies in 1776.

It was more like the rebellion of Spartacus, back in the Roman Empire.

While she had been told that the Fae had considered most other races to be their servants, in the case of the Goblins, this was literally true. The Ughlánas were out in the wilderness, eking out an existence as best they could, with the Othánas sending them what food and gear they had, hiding from the hunting parties the Fae would put together with the express purpose of killing them, but the Othánas were pretty much a captive people. The women were kept as domestic servants and sex toys. The men were used for hard labor, constructing their buildings, working the mines and forests and doing any job that was too hard, too dirty or too dangerous for a Fae to undertake. The strongest of them, the ones that had the aptitude for combat, were all sent to what the Fae called the Arena. Something like the Roman Colosseum, captives from all over the Underground were pitted against each other in mortal combat. Jareth's father, Vesryn Danaaru, was one of those… and apparently the best warrior in the Arena. Fae would come from every corner of the Underground to see him fight.

Jareth's grandfather was a servant to the Vizier of Ardalon. Prized for his administration skills, his aptitude for languages and his political acumen, Konrad Danaaru made himself indispensable to his master, and while serving him, he had bided his time, gathered his information and made contact with each and every Othánas in Ardalon, secretly coordinating through the Ughlánas a mass rebellion and escape from the city.

While Konrad and his wife Liyarin did not survive the flight from Ardalon, Vesryn Danaaru did. Along with his wife and infant son, Vesryn made his escape to the hinterlands away from the Fae capital, uniting the Othánas and Ughlánas and training them in the combat tactics that had served him so well in the Arena. From there, it was mostly guerilla warfare, with the Goblins trying to put distance between themselves and the Fae, while the Fae tried to exterminate what they saw as an existential threat.

What would that have been like for Helayne Danaaru? Sarah wondered. Queen of the Goblins… living in a hovel, scratching out a living while hiding from marauding Fae… all while trying to raise their son…

Jareth. The Goblin King.

Eight Hundred and Twenty Seven Years Earlier…

Vesryn entered the hut soundlessly, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dim light of the fire. It mattered little how quiet he tried to be, as he heard the rush of little footsteps to his left. Like lightning, he turned, snatching the little boy in mid-leap, laughing as he swung the child around. Jareth giggled, caught trying to sneak up on him, and Vesryn tormented him with tickling his belly until he howled with laughter.

"Have you been a good boy for your mother, Jareth?"

"Yes, Papa," he said. Then he looked a little ashamed. "I tried to be…"

Feminine laughter rang out in the hovel, as Helayne moved toward them both. "Oh, he was good. He just… had a little accident during his magic practice."

Kissing his wife over his son's head, Vesryn raised a brow. "What kind of accident?"

"He was practicing levitating a small rock. He… accidentally sent the rock flying through the air. At great velocity. It punched right through the front door."

Vesryn's eyes flickered at hearing this. Looking back at Jareth, he smiled, "Well, I'll work with you some more in the morning, while your mother is at the command tent. We'll see how far you can throw a rock without your hands, only we'll do it outside, eh?"

Jareth nodded enthusiastically. It was really uncanny, thought Vesryn. Jareth shouldn't be able to move anything with force at this age… he should barely be able to levitate a small object.

It wasn't just levitation… last week, he'd actually transported himself from one end of the camp to the other. This was a power he shouldn't have had until puberty, but he had it now, barely out of toddlerhood. And just last night, he'd banished the trash instead of taking it to the heap as he'd been instructed. That was a skill acquired near adulthood.

Whenever Jareth surprised them with one of his powers (which seemed to be at least on a weekly basis), they resolved to treat it as a matter of course. The last thing Vesryn wanted was for Jareth to be afraid to use his magic, and a great deal of his comfort level would depend on how his parents viewed these little incidents. Thus, each new trick he learned (or performed by some instinct) was greeted without any outward showing of trepidation. If correction was needed, it was done gently and with patient explanations as to why it should be done a specific way. Jareth was a good pupil when it came to magic. He was equally enthusiastic about his combat lessons, as most boys his age were. It was starting to get a bit dicey though, as Jareth had decided to weave some of his magic tricks into his swordplay.

Helayne gave him a significant look, then reached up and caressed Jareth's hair. "We had a surprise appear for us today," she said, with a gentle smile. "It would seem that Jareth didn't want to eat the usual pottage for dinner and instead… thought we'd like a piece of roasted pork."

"Indeed? And did the pork just… appear?"

Jareth giggled, "It did. I just waved my hand and thought about pork. And there it is!" he said, pointing at the fireplace, where a large piece of meat was roasting on a spit. Vesryn couldn't help the startled glance he gave Helayne. Conjuring. He was conjuring now.

Carrying his son over to the dining table, he sat and settled him into his lap. "While I'm sure your mother appreciates you helping her with dinner, we have to make sure we do it the fun way when we… wish for something. We have to play the game, you know."

Jareth looked at him with wide eyes. "Game? What's the game?"

Vesryn lowered his voice conspiratorially, "Well… if you want to wish for something, you should try to wish for something sneaky. It's no fun to conjure something so easy… you want to conjure something hard to find. The game," he said while giving Jareth a gentle squeeze, "is to conjure things without anyone knowing. That's the hardest of all."

A gleam of mischief appeared in Jareth's eyes. "Sneaky, huh? Hmmm. So… instead of taking it from a feast table, I should… take it from the back of the smokehouse?"

"Now, that's how you play the game," Vesryn said, laughing. "It's no fun if they can catch you at it. You want to do it so they don't even know you've done it. That's how you show how much cleverer you are." He hugged his son tightly, his eyes meeting Helayne's. "How about this… next time you want to wish for something, you tell me or your mother. And we'll give you some rules to the game, just to see if you can do it. I bet you can. What do you think?"

Jareth's chin came up, "I know I can."

"That's my boy," he said with a grin. "Now… how about we have some of that magical pork?"

Jareth submitted to his nighttime bath with slightly less grace than he had to the rules of conjuring. Eventually, he was tucked into bed, his father telling him his nightly story. It didn't take long before he was fast asleep.

Vesryn rose from Jareth's bed, seeing Helayne standing nearby, watching over their sleeping son. Not for the first time, he wished with all his heart that his parents had survived the flight from Ardalon. Konrad should have been King… not Vesryn. Konrad had the knowledge they so desperately needed. Vesryn was a fighter, not a philosopher. Not a wizard. Goddess knew, he needed Konrad's wisdom right now…

He moved behind his wife so she could kiss Jareth's brow. "Conjuring, now?" he whispered.

"Apparently. I thought my heart was going to stop when that slab of meat appeared in the middle of the table. Vesryn… he shouldn't be able to do that yet. Not until he's near his majority. How is this even possible?"

"I don't know. Goddess knows, my own powers aren't that strong. He's been using magic during combat lessons… it's all I can do to counter him, and he's a child…"

"There's more. He… he does magic all day, on and off. But… he never seems to exhaust his energy. Transporting should take most of his energy from him, but it doesn't. He's been popping all over the camp, without taking a rest, almost like an Ughlánas."

This truly startled him. "At most, he should be able to do it twice before having to rest and recharge. Are you telling me…?"

"Yes. He popped over to Jenna's tent, popped back here, then popped over to the storehouse and back. All in fifteen minutes."

'Well… it isn't a long distance…"

"Have you ever seen someone who could do that at any distance? This young?"

Vesryn shook his head, "No. I haven't. I think tomorrow… we're going to have to test him. See just how much power he has at his disposal. I'm also going to have to talk to him about exhausting his magic. He might well have a large reserve of it, but he needs to learn not to spend it frivolously, lest there be none left for an emergency."

"Why… why would he have this power? Nothing in either of our families would indicate this kind of…"

"I don't know. Unless…"

Helayne looked at him warily, "Unless what?"

"Unless this is a gift from Danu."

He heard her expel her breath harshly as she turned her face from him. Reaching out, he put his hands on her shoulders, kneading the muscles gently. "It makes sense, doesn't it? That he be born at this time… with these powers… I have to believe there's a reason. Maybe he has a destiny…"

Helayne shook her head sadly, "You know what they say, Vesryn. Grand destinies lead to grand funerals." She gazed down at her sleeping son, a tear falling from her eye. "I'm afraid. Afraid of what he will be called to do. Afraid of… what will happen to him." She wiped the tear away absently. "Forgive me… but sometimes… I even think I'd rather have just… stayed. Stayed and let him be safe."

Vesryn wrapped his arms around her. "I know, love. And I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a part of me that felt the same. But think about it," he turned her to face him, putting his hand under her chin and lifting her face to his. "He wouldn't be any safer there. As soon as the Fae figured out how gifted he is… they'd have taken him from us. They'd have taken him and either killed him outright or… sent him to the Arena." He felt the shudder go through her as she processed his words. He tightened his hold on her and looked down at Jareth. "There's a reason he has such power. Danu would not have given it to him, just to watch him die needlessly or to use it for the amusement of the Fae. And the best thing we can do right now is see just how powerful he really is."

Author's Notes:

I hope I got across just how unusual Jareth's power level really is. No one in recorded Othánas history has ever had the kind of power Jareth can wield (and he's just a child right now).

And while this wasn't directly inspired by it, I recall reading the novel "Firestarter" by Stephen King, and thinking to myself… how do you raise a child that has enough power to flatten everything around you with just a thought? How do you teach that child to control their power and not give in to temper or capriciousness? Jareth didn't want pottage again, so he conjured pork… a dangerous activity (such magic can be traced if someone's looking for it). How do you teach your kid in such a way that they aren't afraid to use their power but at the same time, have restraint when they do use it?

I think Vesryn and Helayne are doing the best they can with very little knowledge of how to go about it.

Goblins tend to look at 'gifts' like Jareth has as something to be feared. Not the person who has the gift… they don't fear or discriminate in that respect. What they fear is the reason the gift appeared in the first place. Jareth would never have this power if he wasn't going to need it, and it is those future circumstances that Vesryn and Helayne view with trepidation.

I was asked by a reader on another forum if a girl with male-level combat magic would be feared if she appeared one day, and the answer was yes. They would not fear her, personally. They would not look on her as unnatural or otherwise treat her badly. But they would be asking themselves why she had such a gift and what was coming their way that would necessitate it. Vesryn and Helayne both are terrified of what Jareth might have to face someday, given the power he wields.