"This," Toby muttered, "Is weird."

Considering he was currently staring down from a mountain pass at a lush glade filled nothing, Gwenél decided that he had that right. Nevertheless, she guided him down the slopes to the two figures that awaited them at the glade's edge, still as the rocks and silent.

No elf was quite given to extravagant displays of loud noise. Even extreme emotions were only kept for the occasions when the emotion transcended all good sense. Hence, Gwenél greeted her friends with a chaste embrace and a small smile that touched her eyes more than her mouth.

"My Lord," she introduced, "Brethiliaur, my clan mate, and Maegorod. We bid you welcome."

"Um, thank you," Toby stammered, bowing slightly to the two males as was the custom in the Underground. The last time he had unconsciously given his hand to be shaken, the poor goblin had looked at it and slowly backed away.

"My Lord, we have prepared rooms for your arrival. And for that of your attendants as well," Brethiliaur welcomed.

The fire-blond found himself being ushered towards the other end of the glade without anything more than that subtle hint. The baby stirred in his arms and he petted her quietly as he wondered whether they would despise him for sitting on the grass and screaming in frustration. What the hell was going on? Why did these three seem as if they expected him? And where was he exactly?

"Your questions will be answered," Maegorod whispered, red hair loose and long over his shoulders.

Brethiliaur nodded, his own dark braid a stern counterpart to his friend's airy delicacy. Gwenél alone looked a strong combination of the two, for now that Toby saw her in strong sunlight her hair was deep brown with reddish streaks through it, not the rich chestnut that he had originally thought.

Toby smiled politely at the reassurance but still held back slightly. Even the two days journey with Gwenél had not given him much time to spend with her. The elf maiden had seemed to spend an inordinately large amount of time roaming around them before appearing at regular intervals to guide them on the right path. The inability to pin her down and talk to her made it very difficult for the mortal to trust. After all, he had trusted a lot of people with a lot of things, and his life was still turning into a dramatic comedy.

Brethiliaur suddenly dropped gracefully to one knee and whistled- a high, soft whistle like the call of a bird- and stroked hard, calloused fingers over a patch of earth. Toby's senses gave a heightened throb of sensation as he felt the imperceptible tremble of the earth beneath his feet. Through Jareth's power base he heard the answering call of the earth, silent and tremulous though it was. He was hardly surprised when a large hole appeared.

"Let me guess, you want me down there?" he asked tiredly.

Gwenel took his arm and propelled him forward. "Your delay leaves us in danger, my Lord. They look for you and the child. Beneath the earth is safety."

Safety? The word tasted like bile. Toby shut his mouth around the instinctive urge to gag and stepped into the hole. The feeling of air and darkness. Working quickly, he dredged up enough magic to cushion his fall, landing neatly on his feet as he floated down the last few seconds. Seconds later, Hoggle tumbled to his side, followed by Sir Didymus and Ambrosius.

"Where's Ludo?" he frowned.

He looked up. High above he saw his enormous friend peering sorrowfully down at them all.

"He's too big," Hoggle explained, dusting himself off with a gruff look on his face. Apparently elves and their ways were not a comfortable option for the dwarf. "He's staying up there."

"Egads, my Lady, where are we?"

Gwenel smiled in amusement at the choice of words, placing a hand on Didymus' head as she motioned to the archway. Runes of some kind were carved above it into the earth and even the tree roots that broke the perfect symmetry of the arrangement seemed superbly placed.

"The Place of Time," she murmured, "Constructed many centuries ago in anticipation of the last days of the elves. It is our hideaway, our place of refuge when death draws near."

No one said a word as the two males silently joined the unlikely party.

Arradine cooed something up at her father and gurgled, making Maegorod laugh and reach to touch her cheek. The baby appeared similarly enchanted, catching the brown finger and biting it. Lately, Toby had begun to wonder if she was teething. He made a decision to ask his mother and then realized that there was no way to contact her. He could not use the amounts of magic necessary to project himself Aboveground, and he certainly couldn't go Aboveground because then he'd them all in danger too. Jareth had no problems going Aboveground and neither did his goblins; perhaps Amarild and her fairies had similar powers.

"Come, my Lord. Food and rest awaits you now."

Taking a deep breath, the mortal nodded and followed.

It felt like time itself had stopped beyond the arched gates. Rounded walls of earth tunnelled like a rabbit's warren, unadorned and mindful of the growing things that shared the soil. Open doorways were everywhere, leading to rooms and suites that were unused and empty. Some contained basic furniture; most did not. For all that, there was a simple elegance about the place.

Toby was taken to his room and bidden to rest. Hoggle and Sir Didymus were led away as well. Arradine seemed to have made up her mind to spend more time with Maegorod for she would have nothing but that he take her with him on his journey to settle Ambrosius in the room beside the kitchen.

So Toby looked at the bed.

It was big enough. It was comfortable enough. It was inviting enough. But he couldn't sleep.

Dreams had begun to plague him, haunting him when he woke up with images he could not remember. He didn't like not knowing what was so awful in those dreams. He didn't like knowing that he could not see the presence that struggled into his dreams and out of them without his knowledge or his consent. He didn't like the bitter taste that came with that presence, a taint that somehow reminded him forcibly of just how vulnerable he was. Indeed, he had once thought that he would be less vulnerable once his child was born and no one could hold her to ransom simply by holding a knife against the fragile covering of his stomach. But he was rethinking that thought- it seemed so easy to imagine someone snatching her as a defenceless baby. And he would still have no options.

"You are thinking."

The rough voice startled him, snapping him out of a tired daze and back into reality. "Pardon?" he asked, turning to face the elf that stood in his open doorway. Actually, there was no door, just a curtain that he had yet to pull closed.

Maegorod smiled and entered; in his arms Arradine was asleep. Without a word he placed her in the small cot against the wall before turning back to the mortal. "Sit, my Lord. You are tired."

Toby looked at the bed and shuddered. Oh, he was tired all right! But to sleep would mean those dreams; and sleep was never enough! He seemed to constantly feel drained, needing sleep like some urgent drug that he was addicted to. He turned away from the bed and began walking aimlessly around the room.

Maegorod watched him meander, watched him trail his fingers over the walls and the shelves, restless and caged. "You are not tired?" he probed.

Blue eyes looked up. Hazel eyes looked sympathetically at him. And for once the eyes were level, and not looking up or down to him. "I am," Toby answered slowly, "But I'm not ready to sleep. Not yet. Maybe later."

"Would you prefer to eat?" Maegorod offered. He did not know the eating habits of mortals or even of the Goblin King- commonly known as an eccentric- and who was to say but that there were certain customs to this kind of thing? He hoped, at all events, not to insult anyone. But the young one looked so sad!

"I'm not hungry, thanks. Tell me, where exactly are we?"

Maegorod looked surprised as he pushed his red hair off his face and then smoothed the brown tunic he wore. "In the Hringer Glade," he replied, "A secret place sacred to the elves. The Hringer Mountains you have crossed. By now you surely know that not all those mountains are real, that many are illusions to discourage travellers. And you are in the Place of Time."

"I know that. Gwenél explained that. But where are we? Where is the Hringer Glade? Are we in the Goblin Kingdom? Are there any villages or settlements around here? What protection is there here that Jareth wanted this to be my place of safety? And..." he stopped short. The question had almost fallen out.

The elf male smiled. "And where is the Goblin King?" he completed, "I did wonder when that question would surface."

"I guess you think I'm being stupid."

"Not at all, my Lord. It is a valid question, and one that needs answering. The truth is that we do not know. We have not attempted a scrying yet, and there is no new information beyond the knowledge that he is a prisoner of the Faerie Royalty. His exact location is a secret."

"I see." The Goblin King's bond mate digested that fact and rubbed at his eyes. They were beginning to close in spite of himself and once already had he yawned rudely in Maegorod's face.

"Why do you not sleep, my Lord?"

"Maegorod," Toby sighed, "Would you please stop calling me 'Lord'? It's been a long twenty days and I really can't handle that as well. Just call me Toby, okay? The 'Lord' thing was just Jareth's stupid pride again."

"You feel anger at your bond mate?"

"That he got himself killed? Yeah, I'm a little pissed off. He promised! And look around- do you see him standing anywhere here? No. And do you know why? Because he broke his promise and got himself killed, that's why."

The elf laughed and guided them both to the bed, pushing Toby down onto it and sitting beside him. Apart from that, there was a remarkable lack of contact, Toby found. The other male didn't even move unless it was necessary.

"I do not believe anyone would break a promise of that magnitude, Toby." The name sounded strange in the slightly exotic accent. "And he is not dead. Were he dead, the fairies would make no hesitation to prove the evidence with a public viewing. It is the custom, if the monarch's dead body is taken in battle, for it to be interred before the people of his or her nation before burial. A barbaric custom, but a custom nonetheless."

Toby winced. Even the thought of his husband lying cold and dead seemed to be wrong. It made a mockery out of everything Jareth was, making him some spectacle to be gawked at while he wasn't in control. "Then why won't he come back? He won't even speak to me mentally."

Maegorod looked surprised, but after blinking his hazel eyes in silent contemplation of the thought, he shook his head apologetically. "It is most likely that he either does so out of choice, or because he is forcibly restrained. Can you not feel which it is?"

"How am I to do that?"

"Do you not know how to feel magic?"

"A little," Toby admitted, "But not much. Jareth never got the chance to teach me and there was no one else, really. I was pregnant or recovering from the pregnancy for most of our time together. He said it could harm the child if it went wrong."

"He was right," Maegorod agreed, "But there are other ways. You should share an awareness of the other in your unconscious. The time of sleep is often a chance to communicate between bond mates."

"No!"

"No?"

"No. There are reasons."

"You are afraid." Hazel eyes narrowed. "What is it? What troubles you about sleep? Or do the dreams hold the danger?"

Toby paled and fluffed the pillow, wishing he could bite his tongue out for giving himself away so spectacularly. "The dreams. There's something or someone in them. I never know who. And it feels desperate, grabbing for me so hard that I think it will strangle me with its need. I just don't want to sleep, okay?"

Then the touch came. And it was a soft stroke of fingers down his spine, soothing as a trail of cool water. "Child, do you not know why sleep comes so often to you? Has no one told you of the way the bond works?"

Blue eyes widened. The bond? What did magic have to do with it?

"The bond feels the danger of separation. It feels your fears and need. It tries to draw you closer to each other. As physical nearness seems impossible, it will draw you in the level beyond the physical. Your mental link will only work with sleep, and so sleep is what you need. As to the presence in your mind- it may be your bond mate himself. Who is to tell? Only you may control that magic."

"How do I tell? There's a wall that stops me from finding him, a kind of magical barrier." Toby was desperate himself by now. He was so tired. And if it was truly Jareth in his dreams, then why could he not reach him? "I've tried to break it down but I'm afraid I don't know how."

The elf sighed in frustration. Clearly the young one was untrained. What his abilities were it was hard to say. But even with little or no abilities, power such as he had recourse to brought only trouble if it was not understood. And obviously Toby had no control!

"We will teach you," Maegorod said firmly, "But for now, sleep. I will bring food for you later."

Toby needed no second words. He was already asleep before his host left the room, unconscious as he slipped back into the mists in the Escher Room. But something was wrong. The mists were beginning to pool all around the room, as if cloaking everything in mystery, and what was worse was that the presence wasn't there! He groaned a little as he began to search and call.

He needed to find him. He knew that now. Time was running out for them.

-----------------------------------------------

"This will look wonderful on you, dearest."

He stared at the shining circlet of red metal with wide eyes, backing away until his shoulder blades hit the wall. Why more? What had he done now? Was not his hair enough? His clothing? His manners?

"You had not the permission to move!"

He whimpered and dropped to his knees instantly. This lesson at least he had learned- his Master would not tolerate disobedience. And no matter how tired or sick he felt, his Master's commands would be obeyed.

In despair he felt the shackles in his mind shift just a little as the collar slid around his neck. The beautifully shaped fingers moved around to fasten it. He stared at one powerful thigh before his eyes, appalled for some reason to even know this was happening. But surely this was alright? This fairy had saved him, had given him back life and hope. Who was he to deny the fairy proper thanks?

"Beautiful, my pet. Truly beautiful."

He looked up timidly, sighing inwardly in relief to see the brown eyes look down at him with tenderness. Guilt trembled inside him. The fairy had given him so much, surely he should repay it?

He moved forward slightly and pressed a small kiss into the thigh before him, feeling hands come up to trace the shape of his skull. It was the gentlest of touches, and vastly soothing since their last lesson. He felt himself flush again as he remembered that lesson. The way his Master's eyes had followed him as he learned not to hide anything he did from his Master. To be so completely open to anyone was terrifying. It made him feel small and out of control. It confused things so very much.

"Open your mouth, pet."

Soft, warm voice that he could drown in. So much tenderness in this rough, crazy world... he opened his mouth and accepted the long, lazy kisses that pushed deep down his throat. He knew how to deal with this now. He would never risk another beating for trying to move away.

"Good. So beautiful, my dearest. I have waited a long time for you... so long and now you are mine. Yes?"

He nodded and sighed, innocently wondering why the movement would bring such an intense groan from his Master's lips. Release this time was not harsh, merely a slightly harder thrust against his hips and the order to keep moving. He obeyed and then continued to kiss until his Master let him stop.

"Are you mine?" A teasing finger and his Master was kneeling face-to-face with him on the floor. "Tell me, dear one, are you mine?" The finger slipped to the bruise on his collarbone, stabbing harshly at it before trailing around the slight dampness on his chest.

He shuddered at the feeling inside him, the bewilderingly lost feeling that disappeared only when his Master claimed him. Whatever else happened, the world was right if his Master would only promise to make him whole.

"All yours," he whispered, "Everything I am."

Full lips smirked with glee before capturing the softly parted mouth in a more heated kiss.

It seemed the lessons were on hold for the rest of the day.