here we are, another chapter...*grin* If you haven't noticed, I'm also trying my hand at short vignettes in my other Story "Turning of the Wheel" which is also about Nuada and Pen...*beems*

Pen goes back to training with her blades to gain her confidence back, Putting Nuada's dark side back to "Sleep" , a few Sara and Jareth moments, preforming at the ball, rumors abound, Tam Lin sees his mother preform, Nuada remembers the first Yule he and Pen met...

Four days later...

Time passed as a whirl wind, when she wasn't practicing her planned sets, Pen was attempting to relearn her confidence with her blades. The confidence was harder than to memorize the tunes that she'd accompany Jaeren on. By the end of each session with her blades, her hands hurt. She gripped the hilts tightly, she kept seeing Nuada before her with her blade in his chest. She would pause then, only to be driven to begin again.

"...Your hands." Nuada said when she touched him.

"It is nothing, I'm practicing much too hard."

He took on of her hands and traced the blisters that had formed where once callouses rested.

"Do not let what happened to me stop you." He said softly. "I want our children to know that women can be warriors too."

This surprised her. "There were none in your culture..."

"Women are quite different warriors than men." He said. "They stood as our strength, and comfort, defended our children..."

She shook her head. "I am no warrior."

He was silent for long moments.

"Tam Lin must begin to learn, to take his place..."

"I know, do you know any who would shake the glory of war from his head."

He touched the scar upon his face. His initiation into warrior society had been upon a battlefield, he remembered the cut of the blade into his skin.

"Were the Fey who trained me still alive...he would learn quickly what a warrior is."

Her hand came to touch his, she'd seen enough of scars like this.

"The first blood shed..." She whispered softly. "Delivered by your father's hand..."

He shook his head. "By an old grizzled captain, but before my father's eyes."

She traced the scar and then his lips.

"Our son escaped his keepers again last night." She whispered. "I heard the nursery maid come in to escort him away."

"Our little raven seems to have a knack for escaping his keepers." He said. "He wants to be near us."

"You're afraid..."

He closed his eyes, "Yes, I am. The darkness that drove me to wipe your people off Gaia's skin is still within me, I struggle every moment not to push you and our son away from me in disgust. I do not want him near me if that darkness wins..."

She had known for a long time that the "other" Nuada lay sleeping deep in his heart festering the hole that had formed. The balance was still so fragile, one wrong step and the darkness would rise.

"I will stand between you and that darkness." She whispered. "As I have since I found you again."

He leaned his head forward, so that it came to rest upon hers. She could feel the struggle in him, the "other" coming into half wakefulness.

She felt his grip upon her hands tighten ever so slightly, and heard his breath change pitch. She leaned up and captured his lips in a passionate kiss, he groaned. He tore away from the kiss, his hands were trembling in hers. The conflict was written upon his face.

"Lust..." He whispered softly. "Heat my blood with lust..."

She kissed him again, pushing him back toward the bed. She paused only long enough to pull his tunic over his head before pushing him down.

She straddled him kissing his lips, and then moving downward. When she looked up from teasing her tongue around his navel, his head was arched back and his hands had a death grip on the sheets. She blew softly over the short silver hairs.

Do you want this my love...

The only coherent thought she got was a softly hissed yes.

Her fingers hooked over the rapidly tenting silk and gently pulled. She kissed and nuzzled, applied fingers and tongue. She could almost hear fabric tear when when her lips sank upon him.

It was not long before one of his hands became fisted in her hair, his hips arching. She knew his release was near, and pulled away slowly.

"Please..." He panted.

She put a finger to his lips as she rose up, gently guiding. She had shed her clothes some time between pressing him to the bed and this moment. She sank down, moaning softly. His hands moved to her hips, gripping tightly. She'd have bruises, but they were worth it. He gasped as she began to move.

Release came with a strangled sound, the "other" adding indignation to his cry. She could feel his fingers still gripped tight upon her hips. She began to move again.

"Enough..." He panted and rolled her over so that he was above. "It is enough..."

He closed his eyes.

Sing for me...Sing me into sleep...

The request seemed odd after all this time, she reached up to place her hand upon his heart.

Truly my love?

Truly...Sing me to sleep.

Her hands moved to his back, slowly caressing as she began to sing.

It was a long time later that Pen slowly moved out from under Nuada, his body still slack in sleep. That had been the first time in weeks he had visibly struggled with his old self. She looked at him as he lay upon the blankets, studding his back. The scars were ridged upon his muscles, she'd have to get him to exercise, to build up those muscles again. She ran her fingers down his back, tracing along his spine. His masculine beauty was clear as the fading light played upon his skin. She rose up, reaching for her robe.

The Royal Chambers...

Jareth frowned, within two days he'd have over half his guest list inhabiting the castle or the inns within the city itself. Already he had guests inquiring as to wither Jaeren and Pen would be preforming every night before the ball. He had politely told them that the two singers were saving their voices and would not be attending meals in the hall. The last more of a precaution upon his part to keep the curious away from Pen.

He had been delighted to hear she had again picked up her blades again. He'd observed her, the grace was still there but the power behind the thrusts and parries was long in coming. She'd need that power, to prove to any that she was not a target they wanted to sight. He turned to look at Sara, who was at her dressing table. She had taken out the Opel to wear to dinner to go with the dress she'd chosen. There were times his breath caught as he looked at her.

"...The rumors are rife." Sara said. "It still seems there are some who believe you purchased Pen to be your mistress..."

"And you are trying hard not to play the Jealous wife..." He chuckled. "Those that know me will not make much of the rumors."

"Any who care to look can see she is quite besotted with Silverlance..." She said. "I've had seven people come to me to offer their sympathies that I had been replaced..."

"Pen's abcence may put to rest many of the rumors." He said. "though the Steward is quite insistent, he is here as the king's representative tonight."

Sara frowned. "...Why does he want her, she turned him down flat more than once."

Jareth shook his head. "Some do not get the point unless its stuck in something vital. He is as greedy as Finnas, even more so some have said."

"Have you chosen your attire for the ball..." She asked, changing the subject.

"I was thinking of the jacket I wore to our first dance..."

She turned and smiled. "...Perhaps I should see if the dress still fits..."

He laughed. "IF not my dear I can have it adjusted."

She smiled. "My Goblin king..."

"My queen..." He said softly. "Perhaps we can stave off dinner..."

She laughed softly. "Don't you dare, I spent the last three hours getting into this dress.."

He pouted, "As my queen wishes, But I will see you out of it..."

She turned and kissed his cheek "Most definitely..."

He gave her a soft smile and reached for his waist coat and jacket.

The next day, the training hall...

The kata drew her attention, each movement an act of will. Pen moved with the grace of one who had long practiced, but became rusty. Her body remembered so the movements came without thinking. She executed a perfect lunge as Jareth came in.

"...Put more force behind it." Jareth said. "And you could punch through the veil..."

She transferred both blades to one hand and moved to snatch up a towel with the other.

"I've never seen a pair of blades like yours..."

"I hope not, they are based on an above ground weapon. I don't know its proper name, but nested blades are unusual."

May I?"

She transferred the one blade back to hand and presented them to Jareth. He took them to inspect them.

"No guard, hilts made of wood..." He said. "Short blades..."

"I was told the wood was from the Grandfather tree, but I'm in doubt of that." she said, wiping the back of her neck with the towel. "I do not know where the iron came from, the mithril came from a mail coat belonging to a halfling, descended from a man named Samwise Gamgee..." she smiled. "Though if he was Tolkin's Samwise I do not know." She wiped off her face. "...to this day, I do not know what possessed the High King to gift me with such a rare weapon..."

Jareth studied the blades, he could feel the iron in them. He'd held blades such as this as one of the Raven Guard.

"A royal guards weapon for a human...perhaps Balor saw something in you others have not." He said, presenting the blades back to her. "...Where is Lord Silverlance?"

"I left him sleeping, I thought it best I get my practice out of the way so I can focus upon the songs I must sing."

"Jaeren told me you were going to be singing with him on a few tunes." He said. "I was wondering if you were going to be singing solo at some point."

She sheathed the blades. "Yes, but it will depend on the mood of the hall after Jaeren sings."

"I'm sure the mood will be good..." Jareth said. "have you chosen the colors you will wear?"

"I was going to wear Nuada's, but having seen how many nobles have been arriving I've thought better of it."

"...Wise choice." Jareth said. "Then I take it that it will be singer gray?"

"No, I've gone with blue...though I've not told Nuada this..."

"Will he be upset by your choice?"

She sighed. "Blue was his sister's favorite color..."

Jaeth paused. "I will see that another shade is chosen for you, perhaps choose it for another performance. I cannot let it be known how fragile he is, he must appear no threat..."

"He is no threat, not in his present state." She said, looking Jareth up and down. "Though I suspect not all would believe that."

"You would be correct in that assumption." Jareth said. "the High King sits on his throne because people are afraid, by all rights it should be Either Silverlance or Tam Lin on the throne with a regent." He sighed. "Forgive me, I forget you know of court intrigues even if you do not partake of them."

"I know of Balor's death well enough, my Guild mourned his passing." She said. "But I am of two minds when it comes to the treaties made in an age when man still remembered." She turned to go. "I am not so sure that Nuada's views of the majority of humanity were so flawed..."

Jareth was surprised, he had never heard of a human speaking of this.

"Would you have marched to war at his side?"

She paused "...That Goblin King, I cannot answer, but I would not have stood in his way..."

He stood there watching her go, her blades in her hand.

A week later, an hour before the Ball...

Pen looked in the mirror, her dark hair was twined with purls, and sapphires the size of robin's eggs. The dress matched in hues of sky and water, that she had not comprised on. She sent an image of herself to Nuada through their link. He had appeared pleased with a touch of sadness to see another in his sister's favored hues. She had dressed him in his customary black, adding a touch of red with his sash. He sat beside the fire, Tam Lin in his lap. The boy was dressed in similar hues to his father, though the sash bore the crest of the Royal house.

Jareth had agreed to let the boy attend with them, on the condition that one of them retire with him when the hour grew late. It had already been decided that Pen would retire, better to dispell rumors. She made her way over to the chair to tell Nuada she was ready to go.

"Mathair go halainn..." Tam Lin said, looking up at her.

"Of course she is little raven..." Nuada said softly. "I believe it is time for us to go to dinner..."

The little boy got off his father's lap and waited for him to rise before taking his hand.

"Athair I lead..."

"No little raven, you walk with your mother..." Nuada said. "I will follow behind."

Tam Lin looked at him slightly askance.

"Why Athair..."

"To protect us..." She said holding out Nuada's staff and her hand. "Come now, we mustn't keep King Jareth and his guests waiting...."

Tam Lin let go of his father's hand and took his mother's and watched his father take the staff from her.

"Lead the way..." Nuada whispered to her, kissing her forehead.

She smiled, feeling his had come to rest upon her shoulder as she led the way out.

The Banquet hall...

The meal was well underway when they arrived. The chamberlain announced them, making all turn toward them. Tam Lin sunk against Pen when he noticed people starring at them.

"It is ok little Raven, we won't let anything happen to you." Pen whispered.

All the men stood up when she entered, at least giving most the appearance of gentlemen. Some were stunned when they noticed the small boy holding her hand. The soft hiss of whispers seemed to rise and fall. They approached the high table and bowed before Jareth, who with an incline of his head acknowledged them. They were then escorted to their seats.

Some time later...

Dinner passed with many rumors being passed about. Some were rather nasty, implying Jareth's "affair" with the singer went back before Queen Sara. Why else would the singer appear with a child if it was not Jareth's. They didn't seem to notice that Nuada kept himself close to her and the small boy. Tam Lin would look now and again at his father, wondering why he had such a sour look on his face.

"Mathair why is athair so upset?" Tam Lin asked.

"People are saying things they should not about me and King Jareth..."

"But you love athair...."

"I know little raven, but some people cannot see what is before them." She said. "I'm going to preform with Jaeren, you have to stay here with your father. I'll only be in the center of the room..."

Tam Lin nodded and tried to see where his mother would be. Suddenly two pillows were under his backside elevating him slightly over the table.

"...Say thank you to King Jareth..." Nuada reminded his son.

"Go Rabh mait agat..." Tam Lin said softly

"Your welcome Prince Tam Lin..." Jareth said.

Nuada turned his attention to the center of the room when Pen and Jaeren were preforming.

There was plight applause at the end of each song, their voices showing off their ranges. Then Jaeren left the Dais to Pen. She paused a moment and began, singing of Rivendell. She then turned to a lullaby for a child, her voice lilting as if knowing she sang the child into final rest. Jareth heard that song long ago, though sung in baritone. Sara gripped his hand, she knew he had other children. Some of them she had met at their wedding, others only as markers upon cairns.

"Why is Mathair crying..." Tam Lin asked his father.

"It is a very sad song," Nuada said softly.

Tam Lin frowned, he didn't like it when his mother cried.

Jareth turned to Sara, giving her a small smile. He knew why Pen had chosen that particular lullaby, a mourning song for her lost child.. The applause was measured, some wondering why such a sad tune was sung on such a joyous occasion. She gave her bow and turned the Dais over to Jaeren. She returned to the table, smiling at both Nuada and Tam Lin. She seated herself, and took up the goblet. Her throat was dry, having sung across her whole range. She sniffed what was in it.

"Something wrong?" Jareth asked.

"The wine smells funny..."

Jareth took the goblet and sniffed. A very unpleasant smell rose from the liquid.

"Indeed." Jareth said. "Though no one has touched it since your departure. Wine does not sour this quickly." He offered her his goblet, knowing how it would appear. "Here, drink of mine..."

She nodded graciously but refused it. "Think of how this appears, your majesty..."

Jareth nodded and took a drink from his goblet, smirking.

Nuada was not oblivious to this, he could have almost believed the rumors if he did not know they were groundless. His sharp ears had heard many this night, One implying that Tam Lin was Jareth's child. He would have loved to find the one who started it and rip their heart out through their throat. The rumors that Pen was Jareth's mistress also brought this thought to his head. She belonged to him, even the "other" agreed on this; she was "their" lover.

How can you sit there and listen to them speak of her that way...the darkness growled in the back of his mind.

She is ours clear enough... he hissed back.

The bond is still fragile...or have you forgotten how quickly...

"Lord Silverlance..."

Nuada turned his attention to the voice. He heard Pen singing, having returned to the Dais.

"It is good to see you well..."

He licked his lips and nodded.

"I had heard you were quite ill.."

"I am not as you see." He said. "What is it that you must disturb my enjoyment?"

Tam Lin tugged on his sleeve, "Athair..."

He turned to his son.

"Yes, little raven."

"Can I learn to sing like Mathair?"

"If you wish, perhaps Jaeren can give you lessons. We shall ask him after tonight..."

The person attached to the voice gasped, "Forgive me Lord Silverlance, I did not see the child."

"He is mine, born of my seed..." the words came out on a low hiss.

The person backed up, "I'll bid you good night..."

Nuada took in a breath, the "other" was prevalent this night.

"What is wrong Athair?"

Tam Lin was definitely a perceptive child.

"It is nothing little Raven, just someone who is blind to what is before them."

The child must have accepted that as he did not ask any more.

Jareth had heard Nuada hiss at the courtier who had no doubt come to taunt him over some trivial thing. It did not bode well for the image he wished to give the other nobles. He knew soon enough another rumor would be circulating, this one no doubt saying the singer was passing off Jareth's bastard off as lord Silverlance's child. Sara's hand covered his, an assurance that she did not believe the rumors.

"...They will believe what they wish." She whispered.

"if the rumors get out of hand...the High king may have to step in." He whispered back. "And knowing Finnas' love of gossip and intrigue..."

"They must have a witness to your "affair" do they not?" Sara said, a smirk on her face.

He smiled. "Yes, but there is a room full of nobles who watched me offer my goblet to her..."

"Hers was tampered with, we have proof of that..."

Jareth turned and frowned, the goblet had been removed.

"No longer...it is gone."

Sara turned and frowned, a servant had come to clear away the table so the dance could begin.

Pen returned to the table, smiling. She took her seat, knowing that several nobles would be coming to Jareth with gifts for her. Jaeren was sitting to Jareth's left to receive his tributes. Tam Lin's eyes grew wide when he saw some of the gifts his mother was given. Gifts of Gems, wrought gold and silver, tokens of safe passage. Someone had even given her a roll seal depicting a procession to the Gray havens. The young Prince would turn to his father now and again, asking what something was. Nuada would calmly tell him, but it was the comments his sharp ears picked up that was slowly picking at his nerves.

The ball was soon commenced, minstrels playing and the exchange of gifts. Pen noticed Nuada's agitation, and made note to ask him to escort her in putting Tam Lin to bed. She rose and turned to her son.

"...Are you ready to go, little Raven?"

Tam Lin made a disappointed sound, it wasn't even bed time. She leaned in and quietly explained.

"Your father is not enjoying the ball, people are saying bad things...about me and King Jareth. It is making him mad, I do not want a fight."

"Athair not happy?"

"No little Raven, your father is not happy." She said.

"Leaving will make Athair happy?"

"Yes little raven." She said, picking him up.

She then moved to Nuada, a gentle hand on his shoulder turned his head to her.

"Escort me..." She said softly.

With quiet movements, Nuada rose from the table, gripping the staff.

Jareth noticed the small family leave the hall, and the gossip became more open. He was not liking the rumors he was hearing. The most prevalent was the attendance of Tam Lin, usually no children attended. He had granted the young prince attendance because of his mother's preforming that night. Other rumors reached his ears, some harmless others spoken in the wrong ears bring an end to an innocent woman. He knew the source of some of those rumors, a certain steward of the Royal Court.

"...The rumors are unfounded brother, save for this incident." The elder singer whispered into his ear.

"...That combined with Tam Lin's attendance does not look well." He said. "They half believe he is one of my bastards already..."

Jaeren frowned. "You've claimed each and every one of your children..."

"Yes, but the court would believe otherwise." He said, noticing the eldest living of his children was in deep conversation with a little princess from one of the three royal houses.

"He has been courting her for an age..." Jaeren said softly. "Ever since he returned from Balor's court..."

Jareth nodded, he had been fortunate His son had not been there when the Raven guard had been slaughtered. If that had happened...the dark thought showed him its outcome. Nuada would never have lived out the four months prior to his exile. Sara's gentle hand upon his turned his thoughts, bringing them back to a happier tone.

In the hall outside Nuada's chambers...

Tam Lin looked up at his father, watching the frown on his face. Feeling the boy's eyes upon him, Nuada turned his attention to Tam Lin.

"What is it little raven.."

The boy turned his face away, having been caught.

"I will not be mad at your answer." He assured the boy.

"Why are you unhappy...."

He paused, not expecting that question.

"People were saying bad things about your mother..." He said. "They made me upset..."

Tam Lin looked at him. "Do you love Mathair?'

He could not help but smile at the boy. "With all my heart, little raven, with all my heart,"

Pen had opened the door, and motioned both of them in.

"Go sit by the fire little raven, we will tell you a story before bed..."

Tam Lin rushed over and waited for his father.

The ball...

Jareth was watching his guests, one of them had set him up to found rumors about he and the young singer. Sara had made excuses to depart, more to draw out who ever had set him up. Two had already come to him to hear his denial the rumors. It was not good, he saw the steward talking to a guard who had more brains then scruples. No doubt the man was plotting something. It was no secret that the High King's steward had an unhealthy obsession with the young Singer, even before he'd been elevated to that high position. He had the same assumption as most of the nobility did of the Singer. He would never accept that her heart belonged to an exiled Fey lord.

Nuada's chambers, some time later...

They had surrendered Tam Lin to the nursery maid a short time ago. The little prince had been reluctant to go, but the promise of lunch in the hedge maze got him to go to bed. They still sat by the fire, but in one chair, Pen curled in Nuada's lap. She was asleep, he was still awake.

"How long has it been, my little human." He whispered. "Since that Yule night you staid for a moment to take the mug from my hand..."

The memory of that night was hard to recall, but he remembered how she had blushed at his subtle attention.

"...If I had known..."

He closed his eyes as he carefully rose with her in his arms.

He knew the room well enough so finding the bed had been no trouble. He laid her upon the bed, before shedding his tunic and boots. She had changed clothes while he'd distracted their son with a story about Wink, his dearest friend. He pulled the covers out from beneath her gently, before crawling in with her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, she turned in his arms so she could lay closer.

"Sleep my little human..." He whispered. "and dream..."

He hoped she dreamed again of seeds, planted in hope and love. Her hand coming to rest on his heart, gave him comfort as he drifted into sleep.