Author's Note: The chapters just never seem to get shorter. Sorry bout that. I think it's the long paused in-between.
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"Dad?"
"Yeah, Sarah."
"Why are you male again?"
Robert smiled a little and said, "Jareth didn't want me female for a while."
"Oh. Was that it?" Sarah looked considerably disheartened by the answer.
Robert stopped and took his daughter to a small alcove, inviting him to sit down in the window seat. "Honey, don't look so upset. You don't have to worry about me."
"Well, why shouldn't I?" Sarah demanded, "One minute you're a woman and the next you're a man. All because Jareth's being an ass."
"An ass?"
"You know what an ass is, Dad. Don't look so confused."
"Yeah, but I've never heard Jareth called an ass before."
Sarah couldn't help thinking that the threats and gloom of the day before was preferable to this amused serenity. "Well, he is one," he said intently, "And I don't like seeing him being an ass to you."
"Sarah, what can either of us do about that?"
Sarah though of the letter he'd managed to hide under his bed. "We can try to reason with him," he offered.
Robert chuckled and shook his head. "Jareth isn't going to listen to reason. Unless it's his reason."
The letter had said that too. Sarah wasn't too hopeful himself.
"Either way, I'll change back before we officially leave our rooms this morning," Robert continued, "So stop worrying! Jareth's not going to beat me and I am not enduring torture of any kind. Okay?"
"You're doing this willingly."
"I have no choice, do I?" Robert said whimsically, "I have no home with Karen and- no, let me finish- and even if I did, I would have to leave eventually when the lies get too obvious. This way is better."
"Says you."
"Says me, yeah. I'm the one lying, remember? And don't say 'tell Karen' because you're not too old for a smack in Peshawa years."
"I'm not?"
"Nope."
"Mom never smacked me!"
"Well, I never had that problem, did I?" Robert stood up and beckoned Sarah on. "Come on."
"So, I'm not old in Peshawa years?" Sarah demanded.
"No."
"I'm still a kid?"
"Something like that." Robert caught the confused frown. "We come of age at twenty-three but we're not really adult until we're released from Brenth Naigur."
"Where's that?"
"Trust me, honey, you don't want to know."
The prayers came easy that morning. Sarah found himself falling easily into the rhythm, his body moving fluidly as the words ran through his head.
The so-called rock garden was filled with, unsurprisingly, rocks. And rocks didn't make much of a sound, even when the wind blew over them. There was no sound of water, though Sarah could see his reflection in the wooden bowls that Robert had brought for them if he chose to look.
All in all it wasn't his idea of a garden, what with the rocks and the sand and the patchwork bits of moss, but it certainly seemed to get the job done. The air was blissfully warm and the whole place so quiet that if Sarah wanted, he could have gone back to sleep. If he hadn't been so deep in his prayers.
When they ended, Sarah almost choked on the water as he drank it, completing the ceremony only because Robert did. He put the bowl down and Robert calmly took his arm and led him immediately back inside.
"Don't give them the satisfaction," Robert said in rough Peshan.
Sarah wasn't sure if the gathered group of people was real or just a figment of his hyperactive imagination.
They returned to their rooms via a helpful boonan going their way and Robert waited until he was sure Sarah was safe in his room before vanishing into his own.
The long sleep had done him some good. In the clear light of morning, things seemed easier. So much more logical.
For so long he had been caught up in a violet haze of shock, the world gone two shades darker and the centre left of his focus. Nothing had made much sense and Robert hadn't known why. It was galling to blame hurt pride. But a little bird- if a sometime owl could be classed in such a way- had cracked him over the head with a few well chosen words. Robert took being beholden to Jareth with a pinch of salt.
It was just that he'd never been discarded before! He had birth, respect, charm, everything. He'd gone from one protected household to the next. He'd gone from one marriage to the next. Even with Linda, he'd willingly let her go before she had even known their marriage was ending. Karen was the only one who had ever thrown him out.
Robert shut the door to his room and lay down on his bed. It was easier to change in complete relaxation. There were a few finishing details he had been unable to see to the last time because Jareth had put him on the spot like that. He took his time, waiting for bones and tendons to knit and pulse. He perfected it, bored with normal upkeep and falling deftly into that place where he could control every shred of his physical being.
Robert knew the exact moment when Jareth walked into the room. She could sense that familiar magic that reached out to mingle with hers. She could feel it cool on the backs of her hands. But she wouldn't move or stop. Jareth was just there; he wasn't an intrusion.
It was the way things were.
Robert finished the change and rested for just a moment, drifting back out of the fit.
"Better than the last," Jareth commented with a grin.
Robert smiled back and tugged uncomfortably on her breeches. "I tried something new," she said, "Is that alright?"
"It's your body."
"Technically…"
"Robert, shut up," Jareth commanded.
The Peshawa obligingly shut up and tried to get the too-tight breeches to sit well on her slightly wider hips. She gave up after a while and went to the closet for a pair of leggings. "Am I late?" she asked amiably, changing the subject.
"Not at all," Jareth replied, almost courteous in spite of the impatient snap to his words, "Considering how the time was spent, I'd say you were early. We did miss breakfast."
"The servants can have something brought up."
"I placed an order."
Robert changed into the leggings and hunted for a dress. Since Jareth's moods were unpredictable, she preferred not to bait him by opening her mouth. Somehow, nothing she ever said was taken the right way. So she resorted to humming, selecting the peach because she knew Jareth liked the colour.
He let her change in peace, saying nothing until she picked up a brush for her hair. "Up, I think," was all he said.
She couldn't catch his eyes in the mirror. The one blue, the other hazel, and both of them looking around the room with a musing expression of disdain. Robert took a deep breath and didn't find the situation so terrible after all. It was a very intimate thing, dressing in front of someone else. But Jareth's distraction, after so much focused attention, was rather refreshing. It made her smile a little and feel happy with the off-hand suggestion.
"Up," she agreed, selecting long bone pins to keep the thick curls in place, "Could you?"
He gave a slight start and then helped her with a mocking smile. "I remember you got very upset the first time I did this," he teased.
"It's an insult in my clan," Robert protested, "I thought you were punishing me."
"Punish you by playing with your hair?" Jareth tugged on a curl with his gloved fingers, laughing down at her. "Ridiculous."
"Not at the time, as I recall."
"You thought I was punishing you."
Robert still couldn't catch his eye. Jareth was too busy trying to mix the pins and her hair. He eventually just bunched it up and stuck bone pins in at random.
Surprisingly enough, the pins held.
"There," Jareth chuckled, "That should look artistic."
"Or insane." Robert turned her head from side to side, fascinated by the mess of her hair. "I look mad."
"Wonderful. They think you're mad in any case. This should keep them away." Jareth had had enough and he handed out of that chair before she could undo everything he'd done. He rather liked the look. Even if the knot did look precarious.
"What about Sarah?"
"Vernon has her."
"Vernon!" Green eyes grew very wide. "You agreed?"
"On pain of death if he touched her. Vernon is a flirt but he won't try anything." Jareth opened the door and pointedly waited for Robert to leave the room first. "Not unless he wants his arms sewn to his sides."
"My, my. Your threats are getting violent, loquewren. You only threatened to break his hands for me."
Jareth was pleasantly surprised, if not a little astonished, at this good-natured teasing. Robert hadn't been so warm since… Jareth wasn't sure of the exact number of years but he couldn't remember the warmth lasting for very long through their relationship. Possibly the first two years. And then nothing. Unless compliance could be called warmth.
Robert took the chance with both hands and quietly placed the bottle of elixir on the table. Right beside Jareth's place. Where she knew Jareth couldn't mistake it.
The Goblin King hated the medication with a passion quite intense for someone so sensible. He said it dulled his senses. Simply because the pharmacists used a drop of something with mild hallucinogenic effects. Those damned cigarettes of his were worse and Jareth took those willingly.
The thin lips went ominously narrow and Robert held her breath.
Jareth was a little annoyed. Until the flash of apprehension in those green eyes. He forced himself to relax. The entire situation, though unbelievable, was soothing enough for him to want to prolong it as far as possible. Yet, he did have his pride. And he hated that disgusting liquid.
So he said nothing, merely pouring out as small a measure as he could reasonably argue was enough, and ingesting it before he gave in to a desire to toss the whole thing into a potted plant.
Robert looked as though she would fall over with thankfulness.
"Sit down, Robert." Jareth wasn't hungry any more. He never was, usually, when he was annoyed. At the questioning glance, he made his excuses and said he had eaten. If Robert didn't believe him, the Peshawa was smart enough not to say so. Which left Jareth free to wander around the apartment while Robert ate.
A jeweled chain on a clay figure made him question someone's sanity. Why leave jewellery where anyone could steal it? Though, to be sure, the Allorns were more likely to mourn the loss of 'art' than the loss of their jewels. Jareth found it wasteful. Display pieces were one thing; stupidity was quite another.
The clay figure, however, was one he liked. The woman was faceless, featureless, staring up at the stars with her arms flung out behind her. She certainly was a very appealing shape.
Jareth found his own male fallibility quite humorous, as he did most vulnerabilities. It didn't matter who displayed them, his mind found a lot to laugh at when physical bodies could not control themselves.
"What are we doing today?" Robert called out, brushing her hands off and rising to her feet.
"Hunting, truina," he answered absently, barely raising his voice from a murmur.
She must have heard him because Robert disappeared for a minute and came back with short, graceful boots on her feet, lacing them up standing, long leg curled up and her tongue sticking out as she hurried to get dressed.
Jareth found that amusing too. And very appealing. There were some physical fallibilities that went beyond humourous into bizarre. He didn't appreciate this one physical fallibility. He couldn't afford it. For professional and personal reasons.
"Shall we go?" he asked, sweeping out the room with barely a look to his coat to bring it to his hand.
Robert hurried after him, wondering if she had done something wrong.
She hadn't. Jareth was a fair person and he would have told her that if she had asked. She didn't ask. And so he remained quiet for most of his way to the east grounds, until such point as he steadied his cat and gestured to the animal's back with a small grin.
"I hate cats," Robert grumbled, "Even Aboveground I hate cats. I hate these cats most."
Jareth came up behind her and slid an arm around her waist. "I don't know."
Robert could have sworn he purred, just like his mount.
"I like their build."
He dug his heels in sharply and Robert almost went over backwards when the cat leaped forward. The poor Allorn attending them had to jump out of the way or be bowled over. Luckily, Jareth was quite happy to play the hero. He pulled harshly on the harness and the cat veered off to the left, missing the boy completely. Jareth also moved forward just as Robert went back.
Shoulder blade met chest and the arm around Robert's waist tightened a considerable deal.
"Oh, a very good build," Jareth chuckled.
Robert collected her frazzled dignity and adjusted her seat. Riding anything was one skill Peshawa never learned. But grace and balance they did. Robert did the best she could and let Jareth have his fun.
Thank God, Jareth didn't paw her. He just kept his arm firmly around her waist. Though Robert worked her annoyance out by trying to fathom why Jareth kept trying to scoop her up against him. Maybe he was a refined lecher? Robert had a few moments of fun and satisfaction with that theory before discarding it altogether.
Eventually they came to stop.
Jareth was still smirking at her, reaching out to brush the curls that had tumbled to her shoulders.
Robert shook her head and decided to ignore the whole situation. "Shall we go in?" she pleaded.
"One moment." Jareth whispered something in the animal's ear, all rumbling undertone and little flicks up at the ends of his words, and the cat loped off and went back the way it had come. "They'll send her back at the end of the day."
"We'll take that long?"
"I'd take longer, but Oric might ask for us when she comes down tonight. Inside, truina."
He offered her his arm and the attendants opened the door for them.
There was a stir when Jareth and Robert walked into the lodge. Royalty rarely hunted, and when they did, they did it with full ceremony. But the Goblin King and his mate walked in as two ordinary people and didn't demand special treatment.
The Hunt Master waited for the maneuvering and twisting to die down, bowing slightly to Jareth in welcome. The Goblin King stood at the back and nodded back in recognition.
"We were addressing the terms of the hunt," the Hunt Master said, "The rare phoenix, Your Majesty. It was procured especially for this occasion."
"How fast does it fly?" someone asked.
"Extremely fast, Milord. It has an impressive wingspan and a very light frame. Here is the quarry."
He drew the silken cover from the cage with a flourish.
Robert sighed and shook her head at Jareth's glance. "It will be hard," she whispered, "Look at its colouring."
The bird was, in a word, green. The long tail feathers were different shades of green and its feathers darkened over the neck and head. Topaz yellow eyes flicked at them all in turn.
"A worthy competitor," the Hunt Master remarked, "You will know it by its song, and by its curiosity. But I must warn you- it is an intelligent bird and very hard to trap."
"Too hard," a lady grumbled, "What if no one catches it?"
"The bird will remain free," the Hunt Master informed her, "The organized hunt was scheduled for today, but you may hunt it at any time you choose. The bird, once caught, will be plucked and cooked for the winner. The feathers are yours to do with as you wish."
"A handsome prize," the lady mused, "I am satisfied."
"Then, there is no more to be said! The hunt begins… now!"
The cage door was thrown open and the bird swooped out instantly, circling the room for a way out. It perched on a beam while the people scrambled for their gear.
Jareth considerately opened the door for it.
The bird left amidst groans of regret. People threw up their hands and declared that the phoenix was nigh uncatchable in the wild.
Jareth slipped out quietly with Robert, bored already with the noise and complaints. He was not enamored with his fellow participants.
The two strode off into the nearest thicket of trees.
"How large an area do you think we have?" Jareth asked.
Robert thought about that. "There's the colony at Fellgraft. The forests start there. We're at Recicogue. Perhaps a twenty mile radius? A little less."
Jareth patted her shoulder. "I have an idea, yes. Thank you. That will do."
Robert gave a little start and blinked at the man beside her. She could only see Jareth's sharp profile and he was staring straight ahead, looking neither right nor left. Until Robert saw the corner of those thin lips twitch and then she relaxed, smiling ruefully at her own loose tongue.
"Forgive me," she muttered, unpinning her hair to put it firmly back up.
Jareth caught her hands and spun her around, pulling her close with a laugh. "Charming," he laughed, "Utterly charming."
Robert was unprepared for the kiss that burned her lips. She didn't even close her eyes, she was so shocked. Stunned and a little cross-eyed, Robert squeaked in her throat until Jareth pulled away again.
"Was that alright?" he whispered, fingers sliding through the loose hair, trailing down to cup her face. "Too soon?"
Too soon? Peshawa were not supposed to be treated like shrinking virgins. Jareth shouldn't be asking, Robert thought dazedly, it was his right to do as he wished. When he wished. Robert was trained to be accommodating. Right here, in the forest, if that was what he wanted.
"Robert?"
Whispered into her ear, tongue flicking out to gently touch the hard curve.
"The phoenix," Robert said stupidly. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. If Jareth was in any way in a gentle mood, he'd pull away. If he wasn't… "We're supposed to hunt it."
The sigh was almost deafening. "Yes. Which way do you suggest?"