Author's Note: This is about a year after the previous chapter.
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There were so many beautiful people here. After his first glance around the room, he didn't dare look up. He kept his gaze trained to the light fawn carpet of the formal drawing room. He could feel himself start to blush just a little at his state of undress.
"Is this really he?" The female sitting at his Master's right hand, surely; the voice seemed to come from that direction. He heard the low murmurs from the others in attendance as the female approached, close enough that he could see her feet as she circled around him. She had chestnut brown hair, he remembered, and a pretty mouth. Very soft. Almost kind. It was strange to see someone kind.
"That is he. A marked improvement, is it not?"
"Didn't he get dressed this morning?" The lady laughed and he blushed even harder. "I want to see his face." It was not a request.
"If I may," his Master informed her, "He won't do it for the asking. He is better trained than that."
"Oh, but this is too priceless to miss." Not kind, then. That voice had not been kind. Surely they knew that he was allowed to wear nothing else? Everyone in the palace knew. He was bitterly aware of that. A soft hand reached for him and though he watched the slender fingers approach, he did not think she would touch him. Then those fingers ghosted over his dark hair and he moved his head, growling a warning as he shifted away from her.
The fingers withdrew in a hurry. There was a collective gasp from the other beautiful people. He knew better than to look up. He bit the inside of his lip, confused.
"He will shy away from your hand, I am afraid."
"This is an outrage! I am Queen and he refuses my touch?"
The soft hand reached for him again in spite of those words and true to his training, he moved away. No one but his Master had a right to touch him. That was the deal; that had been the bargain. He took the opportunity to raise his hands and pull his black robe closer around himself, wishing that he had been allowed to enter fully dressed.
"Queen or peasant maid, any touch but mine will bring the same reaction."
"He is badly trained, then."
"I train him as I see fit. He is mine, my Queen."
"Then order him!"
"My permission is only given through touch."
"He was always your weak spot," the woman's voice was low and angered, biting through the room, "Remember that I can take him away. He will submit to me."
"He will not." He risked a half-glance up at the bodice of the woman's dress as his Master's voice took on that dark tone. "You forget, Your Majesty. I need only present him, or myself, and the goblins will arise to overthrow you. And the brat that still escapes your capture will aid me if I bring my little treasure to light."
"The mortal will not take your control of him unasked," the lady replied.
"That can always be remedied when the time arises. But no one else is to touch him."
"Have you no shame? Will you lie with your own family?"
Family? His head snapped up, position forgotten as he stared at his Master. Family?
His Master looked down on him, brown eyes darkened to pure anger. "You looked up," his Master said, "I think you will not enjoy the consequences of that mistake."
His Master nodded to someone behind him and he found himself pulled to his feet and the leash put on him. He knew what that meant. And he begged accordingly. The woman stared at him with a look of pity and disgust on her face, her soft mouth hardened as she watched the guards put shackles on his wrists and loop the chain through another ring in his collar, forcing his hands into immobility a short distance from his face.
But he had eyes only for his Master, promising him the earth and sky if he was forgiven.
"Sit down, Your Majesty," was all the dark-haired fairy would say, "You are about to find out how I discipline my pet."
"Please," he couldn't help whispering the word, "Please!"
"What will you do?" she asked, looking away to something else as the soldiers brought forth a whip.
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"Why do you sit out alone when the moon signals the time for rest?"
Toby looked up and smiled as he saw Gwenél watch him from behind. He moved up obligingly and waited for her to take her place beside him. "The moon signals the time for many things," he chuckled, "I won't get much sleep tonight."
"I think the moon may be at fault for that," she replied soberly, looking to him with deep grey eyes, "You never have slept when the moon is full."
And what was he to say to that? That it reminded him of Jareth? That wouldn't be quite true. The moon reminded him of sex, and the need for that close embrace that only sex could bring. He never could sleep during full moon nights because he'd doubtless only dream of Jareth or someone else and recently the dreams had been featuring a woman with grey eyes more than a man with dual-coloured ones.
"You are stiff beside me. Have I said something offensive?"
"Huh? Oh. No, you haven't. I'm just on edge. The moon reminds me of Jareth. You know, the whole bond thing. Jareth was the night, and then he left. One long eternal day without night."
Gwenél patted his shoulder comfortingly and tucked a few strands of golden hair behind his ear. She understood his plight, she really did. It was never easy to be separated from a loved one. And from what she could tell, the mortal had been very dependant on the Goblin King. It could not be easy making a new life for himself in such circumstances.
"Be that as it may, you should get some rest," she sighed. Rising to her feet, she was a little surprised to have her hand caught and kissed. Looking down, she noted with compassion that Toby had dropped her hand and turned back to the mountains with a blush.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, hunching forward with his elbows on his knees, "I don't know why I did that."
"I'm not angry," she smiled.
"It's just been ages," he muttered
"Since you have touched someone?"
"Pretty much."
He looked up and she was just looking at him, side-by-side with the moon. "Jareth was my first, you know. He made everything seem great. I always thought I'd never be able to be with anyone who didn't make it like that too. And when he disappeared, I decided I couldn't give away what belonged to my bond mate. I just couldn't! I thought I was in love and that I'd never feel that way again."
"And do you? For I will tell you now that I have no feelings of that kind for you, my friend."
Toby quickly shook his head, alarmed at the thought. "No. But lately I'm not so certain that I even need love. I just... I want someone to care, to let me pretend for once in my life that everything's all right in the world. Sometimes I wonder if I really loved Jareth."
She sat down beside him and took him in her arms, rocking him soothingly even though he wasn't crying. She let her fingers sift through his hair, remembering with an aching sympathy how her own doubts had assailed her after her lover had died. Had Toby not considered the extent of his love, she would have suspected him of living in a fantasy world where his delusions were what he believed in. But this signaled his reality. And whether or not the answer to his fears was 'yes' or 'no', she knew that he had seriously cared.
"Hush, lirimear," she whispered, "It will be all right. The world is all right and you are all right."
"The world has never been all right. Why does it hurt so much? Jareth once told me he would give me the world if it wouldn't burn my hand to hold it."
"Your Goblin King was very wise in many ways. That was not one of them. Do you not see- the world is never to blame for what happens, people are. And what we do to each other. Do not let your mate's bitterness become yours."
Toby looked up, pulling away slightly to squint into her face with stern eyes. "Do you know about that mysterious past of his too? Dammit, why won't anyone tell me what it is?"
Gwenél smiled and shook her brown head. "Mellon nín, you know he had some trouble in his past. Does it truly matter what it is?"
"Yes, if I can help... he's not here for me to help at all, is he? I keep forgetting." He shifted uncomfortably, a little concerned because he could feel Gwenél's small breasts pressed against his chest and it was doing unspeakable things to his self-control. "Look, I- I think you should go. I don't want to embarrass you."
She seemed to consider the thought and then, unexpectedly, shrugged. "Comfort comes in many forms. If I can help in some way, I'd like to."
From sheer instinct, Toby pushed the Lady away and got shakily to his feet, the sudden insurgence to his groin making movements uncomfortable. But he had to leave before he did something that would bring awkwardness between them. "I can't," he whispered, "Thank you, but I can't."
She nodded and stood too, patting his shoulder in a kind of blessing. "Your morality is strong," the elf maiden mused, "But you are young. My offer will stand should you think another way on another day. Yet remember- I only offer comfort; not love. I cannot love another and you have no time for that emotion now."
He nodded swiftly and watched her leave, the way her hips unconsciously moved beneath the loose tunic that she affected, the way her hair flowed down her back. Groaning he fell to his knees and fumbled with the ties on his leggings. A glimpse of silver-tinted blond hair behind his closed eyelids combined with a few quick strokes and he was done.
The earth glowed where he had spilled himself, absorbing his seed. He winced at the sight and left as soon as he had righted his clothing.
He didn't sleep that night, his chest hurting as he tossed and turned in his bed.
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The words were soft, with an authoritative bite to them. They dragged him from the blanketing unconsciousness and forced his eyes open. He whimpered as he felt his weight push his abused back into the rough linen.
His Master stood over him, his full mouth still harsh and unyielding. The female stood beside him, a little uncertain but with an excited flush on her cheeks. It suited her cool beauty, bringing out the white creaminess of her skin and the colour of her eyes.
Moving as quickly as he could, he slid off the bed and knelt at his Master's feet. "I crave your pardon." His voice cracked as the tenuous scab on a welt broke open once more.
A boot-shod foot found his side and he sprawled, knowing enough to get back to position no matter how much he hurt.
"Save your apology," his Master hissed, "I want none of it. You have taken your punishment for my displeasure. Now you will ease the displeasure of my guest. You dishonoured her with your impertinence."
The lack of the word 'pet' was ample reason for him to break into immediate tears. That his Master was angry was obvious, but he had taken away his name too! He was less than no one to his Master and the dark-haired fae was his world. He bit back the tears and nodded. "I will do all you wish."
Silence and then his Master hand found his chin, raising his face up to the light.
"He cries?" The woman sounded astounded.
He looked at her amazement and at his Master's dark-eyed triumph with no little fear. Was it wrong? Had he broken the rules again? He tried to swallow the sob in his throat as he blinked the tears away.
"He cries," his Master agreed, "For me, he cries. Charming, is it not?"
"Those eyes..."
"Are better for having liquid crystals fill them.Though sometimes, there are other emotions to admire. Let me show you- up, pet; you are forgiven."
With a smile that would have lit the sun, he jumped to his feet and threw his arms around his Master, the tears vanishing as happiness and relief shone through. The lady gasped her shock but he was too busy staring into his Master's eyes with a shy plea trembling on his lips. The dark head nodded. Sighing deeply in his throat, he leaned forward and captured that full mouth with his, worshipping the soft lips with his until his Master's tongue came out to seek his.
The world disappeared around him. He was safe once more and his world was right again. He barely felt the female's hands dance on his shoulder blades. And by the time her nails dug sharply into the bleeding whip marks on his back, his Master was so deep inside him that the agony bled into a sickly, cloying pleasure that sucked him down into a never-ending whirlpool of sweetness.