Author's Note: Please be aware that this is rated for swearing, gender imbalances and discussion of sexuality. I apologize if this offends anyone, but I assume since you have read so far, you will understand the warnings.

Ullal- like opmi, but the opposite. Literally refers to the older of a pair of lovers, though not necessarily sexual in nature. Like 'baby', it is a term of endearment without signifying anything other than closeness.

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Oric almost tore the letter up into little pieces and threw it into the flames. Instead she stopped herself and took a long, deep breath and let it out very slowly.

"Is this true?" she asked quietly.

"Since I have no notion of what the letter contains," Clairen said apologetically, "I cannot tell you."

Oric held the letter out.

Clairen read it. And he himself sat down suddenly and read it again, one hand at his throat and the other tightening on the rough paper. "By the Powers," he breathed.

Vernon waited silently in his corner, knowing that he would get more out of the both of them if he didn't speak. Speaking would break that fragile agitation, would make them remember themselves. And the lure of gossip was too much to resist.

"Is this true?" Clairen asked in his turn.

"I have no idea," Oric snapped, bringing her little fist down on the table, "How dared he!"

Vernon concluded that her pride was hurt.

"That- that Creature!"

Vernon sat up straighter and restrained his tongue even more. The art of being invisible was a part of his job and Vernon was very good at his job. From what he heard, this was important.

"After all these years, he brings him back? Just as before! Mark my words, he will be sorry." Oric was almost hissing in her bad humour, red hair fiery around her pale face. "Oh, he will be sorry."

"Your Majesty, this is… surprising," Clairen soothed swiftly, "I am sure there is an explanation for this."

"Explanation nothing! I want his Kingdom cut off without a moment's hesitation. Any goblins in our lands are to be arrested and thrown into the dungeons. He will be made to pay!"

"Your Majesty, I can only imagine how hard this is…"

"You have no idea. The humiliation!" Oric clasped a hand to her breast, panting and wild-eyed, slumped in her seat as though physically hurt. "After all I have said," she whimpered, "Now he brings him back. Now! Why? To spite me? To hurt me? Why now?" She dropped her head into her hands and her white shoulders began to tremble.

Clairen looked in frustration to Vernon, but the latter just shook his head and left the room.

It was no good Vernon staying. He was favoured, yes, but Oric would only look at him and burst into tears all over again, wailing that even her first husband had never really loved her. Vernon was heartily sick of the charade. It happened a few times too many for his liking. Thank the Gods he was due to leave for the Kingdom of the Gherengh in a few days. Saxony was a gossipmonger and a little too uncaring in his sport, but Saxony was, at least, honest.

Vernon liked Saxony. It helped that the man was very attractive too. That beard… the Cherisse smiled to himself at the remembered frisson of that beard. It scratched. But in a very rewarding way.

What was he saying? He freely admitted to himself that he had a passion for dark-haired beauties. Lustrous dark hair that fell like midnight against the pure white of a sheet. Or against fair skin. Even better, in fact, against fair skin.

Vernon thought of the Goblin King's Peshawa daughter and felt very gratified for having seen her. A sweet little thing, clearly unspoiled and innocent, and very amusing in her awkward astonishment. But beautiful. Dark hair and pale skin. Pity she was so unaware of her own attractions. Vernon often thought it took all the fun out of the game if one of them were always unsure.

Saxony on the other hand was very sure of his own attractions. Perhaps a little too sure? Perhaps. Vernon grimaced. The last time he had seen the Gherengh King, Saxony had been completely dismissive until midnight, when he had had his personal bodyguard haul him to his bed. The rest of the night had been quite exciting.

"Vernon!"

Vernon stopped and turned.

Clairen's elegant figure swept up effortlessly to him without looking as thought he was on the verge of running, and then took an arm and gestured to the doorway of the nearest room. "A word, opmi," the older man said.

Vernon nodded and opened the door for him. The polite thing to do after all.

Clairen went in and the flower in his hair was askew. He wrung his hands, eyes wide and large and panicked.

An act, as Vernon well knew, but still he went to Clairen and carefully took the flower from his hair. Pinned it up properly with fingers that hardly dared to touch that white hair. He cupped the thin face in his hands and then dropped his hands to gently separate and hold those trembling ones. A show, after all, was what the Allorns were all about.

"What is it?" he asked urgently, "How may I help?"

"The Queen is distraught," Clairen said, "I need time to talk her out of this fit. Time that she will not allow me."

"Anything I can do, ullal, anything at all."

"Ullal. It is so long since I have been that."

"You know me, Clairen. Have I ever let you down?"

The other man smiled tremulously and shook his white head. "You have been everything that is loyal and true," he replied in kind, "My opmi."

"Always. Now, what is it that has you so upset?"

"The Goblin King, Vernon, who else? Whom else has Oric fixated her attention on for these months?"

Vernon wasn't very surprised. For some reason, it seemed very fitting to hear that the Goblin King could be so annoying even with the distance of a whole dimension between them. "What did he do to our beloved Queen?"

"She will go mad. I fear that."

"She is strong, ullal, and she will survive. What did he do to her?"

"His Peshawa," Clairen sighed, twisted away and drooping elegantly by the fireplace.

Vernon raised an eyebrow. Whatever Jareth had done with his daughter, it couldn't be anything that could rouse the Allorn Queen to such jealousy. Or had he finally declared who she was? It would still leave Jareth suitably unattached, however, and the perfect candidate to be dreamt over. Oric wouldn't actually go so far as to make a space for him in her life, but he was sufficiently interesting to dream over. Having a daughter would, as a matter of fact, make him more of a romantic figure. Especially with the sudden reunion.

And yet, Jareth had given no impression of announcing that fact to anyone. Vernon had certainly never spoken of it. And he doubted that Jareth himself would. Which still begged the question of what could have happened.

"What of his Peshawa?" he asked, "I would have said it was harmless. A fling and no more."

"What?" Clairen looked confused and then dismissed the statement. "Not that Peshawa," he said impatiently, "His Peshawa. His mate. The one who ran away."

"What?" This was too shocking; Vernon was very sure there was some mistake. "There must be a misunderstanding somewhere. Robert is not in the Underground."

Clairen's shrewd blue eyes narrowed suddenly and the diplomat could have bitten his tongue out for betraying himself so decidedly.

"Jareth had no knowledge of Robert's whereabouts when I last saw him," Vernon excused, "When did he find him?"

"It seems Robert stays there willingly," Clairen resumed. He wrung his hands again. "Imagine it, Vernon! He has taken him back! And the Queen's informant says that there has been no punishment. Not even a reclaiming, because no one has seen Jareth intimate with That Creature."

"So Jareth now has two Peshawa," Vernon prompted. He was curious about the explanation for Sarah. Was she revealed or was she still hidden in the shadows, kept a dark secret for her own safety? Vernon liked romance too. He always felt it had come from his father's side of the family.

"Yes. Both staying under his roof. His mate, and this new girl he is taken with. They live together; can you believe it? Such hedonism!"

"I almost envy them," Vernon commented.

"As do we all," Clairen agreed fervently, watching visions in his head.

"Two at once and both quite content with their places?"

"Yes. I suppose this girl supplies what Robert could not."

"What would that be?"

"Rationality," Clairen laughed, "He was never very rational."

Vernon had his doubts about that. Robert had always struck him as being very rational. But also very passionate. The kind of man, no doubt, who would be carried away by his emotions. Not a bad thing for a Peshawa. Not even a bad thing for a common man. But Vernon didn't say such things out loud. It was always better to keep his own counsel until he was sure.

"Vernon, must you leave in three days?"

"I must go where the money takes me," Vernon observed.

"Money! Pah!" Clairen turned up his elegant nose at the thought. But he smiled, knowing full well the other knew how much he loved currency himself. "Such a loveless thing, money."

"True," Vernon remarked, sliding closer, "It cannot keep me warm at night."

"I could think of a few ways that it could," Clairen teased.

"What? Pay for my pleasure? Come now. Prostitution has been banned in Allorn since the Last Age."

"Not, however, in other dimensions. The Peshawa dimension for one."

"That patch of scrub," Vernon snorted, "It is not worth the journey."

"You would not think so if you had tried it."

"I see you have."

"A wonderful girl. The tightest little pussy I have ever had the privilege to fuck."

For Clairen, such crudity was rare. The Allorn prided himself on his fragile, innocent, fey image. But now the predator shone in his eyes and he looked like any other man with the scent of sex in his nostrils.

Vernon recognized the look. "She sounds a prize."

"She was."

Something about that smug smile made Vernon raise an enquiring eyebrow.

Clairen didn't need prompting. "Robert's sister, opmi. A true delight to call her by her brother's name."

Vernon smiled politely and didn't find it at all amusing.