Jacen sat in the passenger seat of Madeline's car, reveling in the feeling that her presence had over him. She simultaneously soothed and excited him, and it only grew stronger since they'd slept together.

He felt a twinge of conscience about that. He hadn't intended to take things so far, at least not until he'd told her who he really was. But the Guinness, the moment and the woman in his arms chased all rational thought from his mind, and he was unable to resist. He knew that he needed to tell her, certainly before it got any farther, but for the moment, he just wanted to bask in her company.

Currently, they were on their way to her grandmother's house before continuing on for their day trip to Belfast. Madeline had done some grocery shopping for her that morning and needed to bring over her purchases.

He hadn't known that Madeline was an orphan until she'd told him this morning. She'd never known her father; he had walked away from her mother when she'd turned up pregnant and died not long after during a drug-fueled altercation. Her mother had passed when Madeline was two years old, an unlucky passenger in a bus crash. They had already been living with Madeline's grandmother at the time, so at least that transition was relatively smooth.

It was clear from the way Madeline spoke of her that she loved and admired her grandmother very much. She'd stepped into the role of both parents with tenaciousness and affection, working long past retirement age to have the funds for Madeline's university education. While Madeline would have been happy to stay in her grandmother's home and help her, now that she had finally retired, her grandmother encouraged her to get out on her own and live her life independently. They still spent a lot of time together.

Her grandmother's house was outside the town of Solace, a charming little cottage with a small vegetable garden and a riot of flowers near the front door. Jacen had grabbed three of the grocery bags and was following Madeline up the path.

"Uh… she does know that I'm coming, right?" he said in a low voice. "I don't make a habit of just dropping in on people who don't know me."

Madeline laughed and reassured him, "Oh yes. She's heard me talking about you for the last two weeks. I told her I was going to bring you by before we drove into Belfast."

They entered the cottage, Madeline calling out to announce their presence. Jacen heard a sunny voice beckoning them into the kitchen.

Madeline's grandmother was a petite little woman with pure white hair and brilliant blue eyes. Judging from the pictures on the wall that Jacen had surreptitiously scanned, she'd once been a redhead, like her daughter and granddaughter. She'd embraced Madeline warmly, then turned to face him.

He was unprepared for the look of shock and wariness that came over her face at the sight of him. A look that was quickly wiped away when she'd turned back to Madeline.

"Gran… this is Jacen. The gentleman I told you about."

Jacen gave her his most charming smile, one he used when he was talking to the Fae nobles in Ardalon. It bespoke of affability and lack of threat. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am," he said, nodding his head in respect.

She was far craftier than the Fae were, as the smile had little effect. She gave him a perfunctory upward curve of her lips and the barest of nods before looking back at Madeline. She examined her closely as Madeline chattered to her happily. Whatever she was looking for, she must have found it, as her expression grew shuttered. She glanced back at him, the wariness in her gaze now full-blown suspicion.

He couldn't imagine what he'd done to provoke such a response and thought it best to simply stand silently as Madeline finished her errand. Her grandmother spoke cheerfully to her, but apparently Madeline had noticed something wrong with her and raised a brow.

"Gran? Is something wrong? You seem a bit out of sorts."

"Oh, no dear," she replied. "In the last few days, the weather has been playing havoc with my bones. They're just a little cranky, that's all." This was said with much warmth and affection, and it was enough to mollify Madeline. They proceeded to make plans for Madeline to come out for dinner tomorrow night, and Jacen kept his 'Ardalon mask' on while she put away the groceries. He could see the grandmother's eyes flicker to him now and then, the suspicion in them growing ever stronger.

He could only think that she was very protective of her granddaughter. He might have felt the same suspicion himself if he were in her shoes. Or at least, he tried to tell himself that. They were soon headed for the door, the grandmother wishing them a fine trip and a fun evening. As Jacen got back into Madeline's car, he looked back at the cottage.

She was standing in the doorway, staring right at him. The suspicion in her eyes was joined by another emotion.

Fear.

Belfast was a lovely little city, and the day seemed to fly past as they explored it. If Madeline had to choose, she'd have said that the Titanic Museum was her favorite. Although it happened centuries ago, the human drama of that ill-fated voyage still had the power to affect people.

Not wanting the day to end, they decided to have dinner and go dancing. Jacen was a phenomenal dancer, easily able to go from the fast, energetic dances to the slow and romantic ones. She couldn't help the absurd feeling of pride she had when she noted the eyes of the women following him around the club. For his part, he demonstrated quite handily that he was with her, and never even glanced at the beauties who were subtly trying to get his attention.

They decided not to stay until closing, instead saving their nightcap for when they got back to Madeline's apartment. As they walked back to the parking lot, she realized that they'd parked there during the day, and they'd have to cut through an alleyway to get to her car. Jacen appeared unconcerned, although Madeline couldn't shake a feeling of dread as they stepped into the alleyway.

Her dread materialized when two man-shaped shadows detached themselves towards the end of the alleyway and confronted them. She saw the glint of steel in the hands of one of them and her anxiety shot through the roof.

Oh, dear God… he has a knife…

Madeline glanced fearfully over at Jacen. She wasn't sure what she had expected, he didn't exactly give off the vibe of someone who dealt with dangerous situations often. Perhaps she'd let his occupation of travel blogger color her impression of him. Perhaps it was his sweet, friendly personality. She didn't know.

What she did know, however, was that in less than a millisecond, the affable, almost boyish man she'd been walking with had vanished, and in his place was a lean, feral and scary individual. The look in his eyes, while directed at the two punks in front of them, was absolutely chilling, and Madeline could feel the hair on her arms stand up. He literally radiated danger, his lips twitching into what Madeline could only characterize as a snarl.

Before she could even react, Jacen reached his arm out, smoothly pulling her behind him as he faced them down. He'd neatly sidestepped so that the bricks of the building were at their backs, positioning her so that she was shielded between him and the wall.

One of the miscreants had apparently picked up on the same sense of danger that Madeline had. His expression went from malicious amusement to a wary, almost frightened mien. The other one also seemed to recognize the menace in Jacen's demeanor but reacted to it almost as a challenge.

"Alright, boyo," he said with a grin. He waved the hand holding the knife, almost invitingly. "How about you—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. In a blur of motion, Jacen's hand shot out, closing over the punk's wrist and yanking it sharply. Madeline could hear the 'snap' of bone as Jacen literally broke the man's arm, a sharp scream sounding out from the man's startled lips. Jacen used the motion to flip the punk onto his back, while at the same time, turning in a neat, tight circle and kicking the other one right in the gut. The knife clattered onto the pavement, and Madeline instantly kicked it far down the alley and out of reach. As Jacen completed his spin, his foot came down on the neck of the punk whose wrist he was holding. The kicked one had fallen onto his back, clutching his abdomen and gasping, his wind clearly knocked out of him.

The takedown was so quick and so savage that Madeline could barely process it. At that moment, she was convinced that Jacen was going to kill these two, and from the look on his face, that conviction became a certainty. Almost without her volition, her lips parted and in a shaky voice she called out to him.

"Jacen…"

Before her eyes, she could see him regaining control over himself, the utter rage on his face slowly smoothing over into something a little less… murderous. He took a breath, his gaze never leaving the two on the ground, and after a few moments his stance relaxed slightly, and he let go of the punk's wrist. Keeping her shielded behind him at all times, he slowly backed them out of the alley towards the parking lot. As they reached the lighted area and turned around, Madeline could swear she'd seen… something… in the alley. Almost as if small shadows had detached themselves from the darker areas and were moving toward the thugs on the ground. Before she could make much sense of it, Jacen had her faced forward, his arm around her protectively as he hustled her towards her car.

They walked in silence, and while that dangerous aura had subsided somewhat, Madeline could feel that it wasn't gone entirely, and his eyes swept the area around them with a steely vigilance that was strangely comforting. What she'd just seen should have frightened her, but oddly, it didn't. If anything, she had never felt more… safe… in all her life. She would never be able to explain it, but somehow, she knew down to her bones that she was walking beside a man who would protect her with his very life, and the feeling of it left her awestruck.

"Were you… in the Army or something?" she asked, wide eyed.

"No, but my Dad was," he answered, with a slight trace of what seemed to be unease on his face. "He and my uncles made sure to train me in combat."

Combat… why not say 'boxing' or 'fighting'? she thought with puzzlement. Another Jacenism.

They drove back to her apartment in silence, Jacen behind the wheel while Madeline's mind whirled in circles. She'd never seen that kind of skill outside of the military, and while she believed him when he'd said that he was never a soldier, there was a part of her that was unsettled. That kind of skill came with practice, long practice. Years of it. And while his father and uncles might have taught him, this was something that he obviously kept up with regularly. It was certainly a side of him she'd never even suspected he had, let alone expected to see.

They arrived at her place, going up to her unit in the same silence that had permeated their ride back. It was at this point that the events of the evening started to catch up with her, and she found herself trembling, the fears of what could have happened now flashing across her brain.

Somehow, Jacen knew. As soon as the door was closed and locked behind them, he swept her into his arms, carrying her into the bedroom. He didn't even stop to remove his shoes, or hers… but he laid on the bed, cradling her in his embrace. Her trembling became full-on shakes, and she felt a sob bubble up in her. He held her tightly, his hand occasionally stroking her hair, and with each passing moment, she felt the fear slowly subsiding.

They slept that way, fully clothed and with their shoes on, and Madeline safe within Jacen's arms.

He'd gone back to the castle in the morning, a virtual meeting with his publisher having been scheduled that he couldn't get out of. At first, Madeline was puzzled, it being Sunday and all, but Jacen laughed and said that his publisher didn't keep to a regular workweek, and he had to go with the flow. Her schedule for the rest of the week was rather busy as well, so they made plans for the following Saturday. She wasn't exactly in the mood to go too far from Solace this time, so he'd suggested dinner at the castle. With a roguish grin, he'd also suggested she should bring an overnight bag, should she feel so inclined.

Madeline had to admit that she loved going to the castle. She'd never said it out loud, but as she walked through its halls, she could almost imagine herself as the Lady of the castle… Jacen it's Lord. For some reason, she could picture him as a medieval lord or prince and thought to herself that maybe he'd been born centuries out of his time. She knew that she certainly felt that way sometimes.

She'd bagged up some of her pantry items, intending to take them over to Gran's place and make dinner. For someone who was so quintessentially Irish, Gran had a deep love for Italian food, and Madeline's spaghetti sauce was one of her favorites. She opened the refrigerator to take out the sausage and ground beef when she was brought up short.

There were three long-stemmed red roses lying on the package of sausage.

For a brief second, she was puzzled. Then she recalled that Jacen had been there when she'd made plans to go to Gran's for dinner. But… how did he know she was going to make spaghetti…? And where the hell did he hide these flowers? When he came over yesterday, he didn't have them on him. She was with him the entire time; from the moment he walked in the door to the moment he walked out of it. And at no time did she see any flowers.

Magic, he'd once told her. She was starting to believe it.

Gran's little house was redolent with the scent of garlic, tomatoes and basil. They sat at her dining table, happily ripping their freshly baked bread into pieces and sopping them in the sauce. Their conversation was light, meandering really, but at some point, the events of the previous evening flickered through Madeline's mind. Her expression must have shown it, since Gran put her bread down and looked at her searchingly.

"What's wrong, aroon?" she asked.

Madeline gave her a crooked smile, "Oh… I'm just thinking about last night."

"You were with Jacen though," Gran said with an odd look on her face. "Did something… go wrong?"

"You could say that" said Madeline with a short chuckle. "We had a great time, he's an amazing dancer. We… we were on our way back to the car when we were accosted by a couple of… I don't know, punks? Gang members? One of them had a knife. I was scared."

Gran's gaze narrowed on Madeline in a way that was almost as scary as Jacen's expression last night. "And… what did your man do?"

Madeline's wide eyes met Gran's. "He… it was unbelievable, really. He'd disarmed the one with the knife, broke his arm… it was so fast… then kicked the wind right out of the other one. He got me out of there quick as you please." Madeline frowned to herself, remembering.

"And?" asked Gran. "You wouldn't be this shook up if it was just a scuffle. You see them all the time, working at that pub as you do. Something about this one has you nervous."

"Not nervous, just… amazed. He's so sweet and so… gentle. If you'd asked me yesterday morning, I would have told you that there wasn't a violent bone in his body. I… I suppose I was a little taken aback to find out how untrue that was." She looked up at Gran earnestly, "Don't think that I'm afraid of him. I'm not. I can't explain it, but… I know he would never, ever hurt me. But… I guess I wasn't expecting the quick savagery that he used to take them down."

Gran regarded her quietly, taking a few breaths before she spoke. "And where did he learn that, I wonder?"

Madeline shrugged, "He said his father and uncles were in the Army, that they'd taught him. He must have been keeping up in practice," she said with a laugh.

"Have you met his father? Or… anyone from his family? Friends?"

"No… I never asked, really. I mean, I've met the men at the castle, but I wouldn't say they were friends. Friendly, yes. Almost… well, they treat him like he's their boss or something. It doesn't make much sense. But as far as meeting his family or friends, no. I haven't."

Gran reached for her glass of chianti, sipping it slowly. "And… you don't find that odd?"

"Well, no… not if he's just here to do a writing project," replied Madeline. "He doesn't live here…"

And that was odd in itself. He didn't live in Solace, but he knew it so well, as if he'd been here a long time. And those men at the castle… they know him. Personally. Beyond him being a temporary guest… and enough to want to aid him in his romantic pursuit of me.

"Do you know anything about his family?" asked Gran as she cut across Madeline's musing. "Names? Where they are?"

Madeline raised a brow, "What are you getting at, Gran?"

"Just this. I find it more than odd that this young man just appeared out of nowhere, swept you off your feet, and yet has given you no information about himself. Not his family, not even where he's from. He has a touch of American accent, yes… but not enough to have been born there or lived there for a vast length of time. So… where exactly does he live? Did he tell you?"

"Well…no, but then I haven't really asked. His parents are alive, at least judging from our past conversations. His father is ex-military. He has uncles… one of them was adopted by Jacen's grandfather… he has another uncle on his mother's side that's his age. He has cousins. So… no, I don't know much more than that. But Gran, I haven't asked. I'm sure he'll tell me when I do."

"Will he, now?" Gran retorted. "And how much of it will be the truth, eh?"

Madeline frowned at Gran, her eyes narrowing. "All right… out with it. I don't know what the problem is, but you've had issues with Jacen ever since I brought him to meet you. You've never had an issue with my boyfriends in the past… well, except for Danny, and you were right in that respect. But something's not right here and I want to know what it is."

"You'll think me daft, but I'll tell you the truth," Gran said quietly. "There's something off about him, aroon. Something about him prickles my skin and makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up."

This was almost verbatim what Madeline felt around the staff of the castle. She'd never felt it around Jacen, except for last night, and it had been quickly banished. "Off in what way?"

Gran sighed, "I don't expect you to believe me. You young ones are so quick to dismiss the old ways. The old knowledge. Everything is so cosmopolitan nowadays that you forget where we are." She gave Madeline a fierce look as she made her point. "This is Ireland, Maddie. And here… there are things you cannot comprehend. The veil between worlds is very thin here. And these things… they cross over."

Madeline burst into laughter, "Are you saying he's from the Underground?" She shook her head, amused. "You think he's a Fae? I have news for you, Gran… he's way too tall for that."

Gran's expression became even more severe, "And how would you know that, if you haven't seen the real him? They can make your own eyes lie to you, Maddie. They can make your heart lie to you too. Fae are known to charm their victims, get them so far gone in love and enchantment that they end up subsumed within them, only to waste away when their lover leaves them behind. And this… I fear that this is what's happening to you."

"All because he gives you the willies?" Madeline retorted, her skepticism clear.

Gran smacked the table with her palm, startling Madeline and shaking the wine glasses. "You don't believe me. But I'm telling you. They walk among us… all the time. They always have." At this, she rose from the table, moving over to the small curio cabinet in the corner. She opened the glass door, reaching in and taking something out.

She sat back down at the table, putting the box she'd taken out of the curio between them. She motioned at Madeline to open the box.

With a trepidation that she could hardly credit, Madeline picked up the small wooden box and looked it over. It was plain, not even stained with color, but varnished to a shine. She opened the box slowly, peeking inside. With a slight frown, she withdrew the contents… three coins. One gold, one copper and one silver.

At Gran's expectant look, Madeline examined the coins closely. They weren't British… they didn't have a face on them at all, let alone that of a monarch. They did have some sort of symbols ringing them, symbols that were both familiar and yet completely strange to her.

"Over a thousand years ago…" Gran continued, "we used to find these coins. You'd get up in the morning, go to your barn and find your grain missing. Or maybe all the wood you'd chopped the night before. All the time… it would happen. And when it did, these coins would be laying there, bold as you please. No one knew where they'd come from. The metal of them was true, and those that got them could trade them for more goods to replace what had been stolen. But as to where they'd come from… no one knew. Those runes you see… people have been trying to trace them for centuries. Some say they're Celtic… there's some echoes of it. Some say it's completely different. The common people knew, though. Those were Fae markings. It was the Fae that was leaving those coins."

Madeline swallowed hard, her eyes still tracing the markings. "I've heard those tales. Are you saying that these…?"

"Yes," said Gran. "They've been passed down through our family for hundreds of years. It doesn't happen anymore, at least not with those coins. Sometimes, now and again, something would be missing and money left in its place. It's a rare happening, now. But back then, it was common. And not just here. It happened in Scotland and England, too."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with Jacen?"

Gran shook her head sadly, "They walk among us, Maddie. They have all along. I know what they feel like, as I've felt them all my life. He feels like one. And you… he's targeted you. And I can't get you to see…" Gran looked down at the table for a moment, then met her gaze gravely. "You're touched, Maddie. You've got magic on you. I can feel it. All the Irish have a bit of it, but you… you've got more, and it's recent. My guess… you got it from the first time you let him bed you. A week ago by my reckoning."

Madeline blushed hotly. Gran had never moralized at her in the past, and she'd always told her the facts of life with a candor that belied her age. She'd always regarded Madeline's previous relationships with some amusement before. Not this time.

Not last time, either. And she was right, then.

Madeline picked up her glass, taking a healthy gulp of wine. "All right… even if I believed you, and I don't say that I do… how would I know?"

Gran met her gaze steadily. "He uses a mind trick. It's called a 'glamor'. It makes you think you're seeing something… different than reality. And it extends to all the senses. Touch. Scent. Taste. His height… to your senses he is tall. But his magic can make your eyes and your hands lie to you. But, if you've been touched by the Underground… as you have been… you can see through it. Next time you see him, unfocus your vision. Doing that will get around the receptors of your eyes and show you what's beneath the glamor."

Madeline kept looking at the coins, "I don't know, Gran. I think you're wrong."

"If I'm wrong, then I will apologize and embrace your young man as you do," Gran said smoothly. "But Maddie… what if I'm right?"

Author's Notes:

You might remember back in 'War and Remembrance' that Jareth would conjure items from Above, to add to the stockpile he was building for the Goblin people. He also felt a lot of guilt for it, knowing that he was, in essence, stealing from the humans. He made a habit of leaving Fae coins in exchange for the things he took, and the coins that Gran shows Madeline are, in reality, from Jareth himself, left long ago for one of her ancestors.

This has carried over into the things they conjure to this day. If they conjure something that they don't already own, they leave money to pay for it (and confine their conjuring to stores or retail warehouses). That's why Gran mentioned that it still happens, although rarely, and that modern money is left instead of the Fae coins.

Jacen made quite a blunder in telling Madeline he was a travel blogger. He should have just told her he was the son of the CEO that owned the castle. It would have been the truth (sort of) and might have resulted in less questions in Madeline's mind.

Jacen is a charming, loveable rogue, but… in that alley… his lady was threatened. Goblin men are absolutely ferocious when it comes to protecting their loved ones, and Madeline got her first peek at that. While she didn't see his true form (and might well have fainted in terror if she had at that moment) she could definitely pick up on just how dangerous he could be. These stories have humanized them in many ways, but we should perhaps remember that they are NOT human. They are magical, mythical beings with great power, and even one as nice as Jacen can be utterly terrifying in the right circumstances.

And yes… those shadows that Madeline had seen in the alley were the Ughlánas. There's no way that Jacen would be going Above without a bodyguard, and the Ughlánas can stay out of sight without alerting Madeline to their presence. Jacen acted so quickly that they hadn't had time to take care of the problem themselves, so they waited until he'd gotten Madeline to safety before they moved in.

Gran cannot see Jacen's true form, but she CAN sense his magic. While not touched by the Underground as Madeline has been, she (and many others where she's from) can sense the magic that Underground dwellers carry, enough to know that he's not what he seems.