Drops of water fell in distinctly hollow sounding plunks outside. As if to compliment Jareth's mood, the sky had opened up to allow sheets of drear rain to plummet to the ground, sending a breeze that smelled of wet, and cold through the magickally shielded room in which he sat.

Though Jareth stood, lounging against the wall as if the cell-like structure was his own impressive throne room, his mind was a blur of emotions that were anything but serene. How dare they pull this on him? He was in the right this time, and he knew it. But the council members were so eager to have some strike against him, they'd stretch any story to get results. The goblin king knew this, though admit ithe didn't wish to. Not now. At any rate, he'd made up his mind to lay everything on the table tomorrow. His satisfaction would come from knowing they would have to admit defeat when he explained himself. Full lips tilted the traces of a grin as he thought of this.

His thoughts were interrupted by a scraping sound that issued from behind the wall he leaned against. Jareth merely ignored the sound, and continued pondering what his exact words should be. Again came the sound, this time accompanied by a canine snort. 'Guard dogs,' he thought, twisting his mouth into a wry grin, 'how lovely', as he sunk back against the wall again, a shadow shifting behind him to obediantly fit the contours of his back. Persistantly, a quiet wolfish whine floated from behind the wall, followed by the clank of dragging chains. With an upheld eyebrow Jareth tapped slender opal talons against the rough grey stone.

"Ah, so there BE someone there. Oiye thought there might be." The voice was growled, as if the owner's vocal chords had been sanded down to mere strings, though it held a distinct air of femininity.

Jareth smirked faintly, the gesture blotted out by shadows as he sunk further into them, blackness wrapping about his slender frame like a midnight quilt. Lovely, a talkative criminal. Jareth had no want to speak with riffraff.. "My dear, do the world favour. Put your chains about your neck and pull."

Only a roughened laugh was the response, and the voice ignored the caustic comment. "Oiye knows who ye be." Chains clinked in protest as the figure exacted what Jareth sumised to be a bow. "Nothin' personal, but what's t'Goblin King doing down 'ere?"

For some reason, Jareth actually halted his first thought, which was to ignore the fool and continued. With a casualness designed to trick himself into believing he was merely making conversation as opposed to actually spilling the entire story, the goblin king explained; why he was here, and why he shouldn't be.

The woman behind the wall muttered almost knowingly. "Always a girl in t's kinda story...always."

Pale amber eyes fell closed as Jareth lapsed into silence, listening to the drumming of rain against stone outside. Uninvited a figure crept into his thoughts. The doe eyed woman/child with the seal smooth hair of sable and the stuborness of an ox unharnessed. A flinch shook him from the thoughts as he recalled how THAT ended. She was an ungrateul child, nothing more. And she was nothing to him now. Jareth frowned deeply. "Really. And I'm quite sure you're well versed in psychology then?" Sarcasm bit almost painfully against his lips, like acid.

The voice on the other side of the wall didn't seem perturbed by the king's nastiness in the least, and continued speaking as if he had merely smiled. "Oh aye, Oiye gets tae hear a lot 'a stories... or Oiye did when Oiye was a free lass."

"I'm guessing that would be before you became scum?" Jareth asked in a chidingly conversational voice, twirling a wisp of shadow about his index finger idly. Opal talons clipped shorter than usual glinted now and then.

The voice laughed, a gruff chuckle that could almost have been androgenous. "Scum Oiye isn't. No anymore than ye are M'lord. Ye know the council gets rid 'a who it wants, whenever it wants. Corrupt, the lot 'o 'em."

Jareth arched an eyebrow against the blackness. She wasn't an idiot at least..."Is that so? Then, my saint in disguise, how DID you come to be....here?"

The voice's response was cut in two by a hacking cough, more than likely aqquired through a lengthy period of time in the dank chill of the water logged dungeon."'Scuse me that... had a bit o' a cough fer some time now." Clearing her throat, she continued. "That be a long story M'lord, and Oiye would nae want tae trouble ye."

Jareth cast a gaze at the wall from which behind his companion's voice echoed. "Would I ask if I didn't want to hear?"

More chuckling still, and a pause. "Oiye guess not. Even a theif's got tae eat. Unfortunately this one didn't get far with 'er loaf a bread. Oiye guess rye bread is worth a lot... seein' as oiye gots life in 'ere now."

Jareth snorted quietly, as livid golden eyes fell closed shortly. A chill had crept into the air. Not an unpleasant cold persay, but one that was enough to give him cause to fold his arms over his chest. That was all she was here for? Stealing a loaf od bread? Hardly enough to warrent a sentence of life. "You must have stepped on some feet to get a life sentence for that deary."

"Oh aye, they dun't take kindly tae mouthy lasses in 'ere.'Specially since oiye happened tae turn down Tethen's proposal" The voice replied. Did Jareth detect a hint of pride in that gruff tone?

Tethen... tethen not some mere magistrate, Tethen had been third chair, and now he held second. Certainly not a man to be swayed by a gruff street wise theif. Idly, jareth mused. What did she look like anyway...? "How long ago was this then?"

"Oh,...Six years ago Oiye thinks. Mind ye Oiye ain't in the best of health anymore, but Oiye bets oiye could still plays some heartstrings if Oiye weren't in 'ere." She chuckled, the muffled laughed echoed quietly through the low cielinged place.

That would explain why Tethen would propose. Jareth wrinkled his nose is disdain as he leant back comfortably against the wall. Tethen would be more concerned with how tight a woman's corset was rather than how intelligent she was. Nevertheless, this 'theif' wasn't stupid so it would seem. Jareth looked toward one of two windows idly."Is that so? What a pity that you are then," he grined. "Well deary, do you have a name, or should I continue to call you 'theif'?"

"Me given name be Crowchev, but call me crow. It be much simpler your highness."

Chapter Three