Author's Note: Men! They really are cretins sometimes!

lirimaer- lovely one (approx.)

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Well...

Toby stared up at the ceiling and decided he was too tired and far too warm to move. His bed tended to be cold in autumn and winter. And he hated that cold. At first, Arradine had often crawled into his bed at night, wanting the comfort of her dad's touch; he had never thought to question just how much comfort he got from her. But now that was finished. Arradine dreamed pleasant dreams in her own bed in the room next to his and hardly ever stirred at night. Unless there was a storm, in which case she couldn't sleep for fear of missing what was essentially nature's fireworks display.

So he shut his eyes and hoped Gwenél was already asleep.

A callused finger brushed his collarbone. No. Not asleep, then. He opened his eyes and sighed, preparing to drag himself out from under the covers and go back to where he should have been in the first place. But it was so difficult!

"Do all humans worry so very much, lirimaer?"

"No, sometimes we manage to enjoy ourselves," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. It was short now; cut into a neat, mature style that reminded him of the guy Sarah had introduced him to who worked with her at her first and last full-time job. It was frustrating to think he was old enough for that haircut anyway. And frustrating that he still clung with some desperation to his human roots.

Gwenél shifted slightly to look up at him. "Toby, you really must stop worrying," she urged, "You will have no rest like this."

"I'm not going to get much either way. Sorry, Gwenél; I'll let you get some sleep." He made to get up- really he did- but when the elf pulled him back he found he didn't really want to struggle. So he let himself be pulled back, settling against the soft body that wrapped around him with a gentle, calm touch.

Gwenél, for her part, was not quite sure what to say. So she simply held him, leaning into his back with her chin on his shoulder and her legs around his waist. It still surprised her that he was so heavy. He looked far too elfish for the weight that pressed her down.

Now, at the best of times, breathing together was very restful. She often soothed him so, matching her breathing to his quite calmly. This was not the best of times. He was far too confused, both personally and with his duties to his adopted world, and something was gnawing at his mind just under the façade of his blank silence. Gwenél could feel it drive his actions at those moments just when the frenzy was more important than his self-control. She was spared her part in his duties, but she wanted to help. Toby carried too many decisions and he was not the person to she would have picked to bear them.

Toby agreed with that sentiment. Since Jareth, he had spent his life acclimatizing himself to being taken care of. Most of the time, it simply meant adjusting to Jareth's already-prescribed way of life. In the Place of Time, he lived as the elves did, ever mindful of Arradine's needs. But to make decisions involving death and politics and social change was beyond his abilities. Worse, even had that burden not been so great, the night was not dark enough to hide the essential point in the whole affair that labelled it 'wrong'. It was wrong. And sitting together in that intimate embrace was wrong. His fear of one impossible situation had driven him into another. But if he left this embrace… there was Jareth to face. And the damage had been done.

Gwenel patted his shoulder. "How many times must I tell you that this is nothing with shame?" she sighed, "This is a sharing of companionship, not an act of love. You have nothing to fear from me."

That snapped some thin thread of control just a little. "I'm not afraid! I know what I'm doing, dammit! Stop treating me like a child!" He wasn't a child, not with those decisions to make. He couldn't afford to be a child when he was raising a child and raising a Queen.

"I have never..."

"Yes, you have." A quick wrench and then he was picking his clothes off the floor, dressing with hands that shook so hard the ties and clasps were impossible to manage. "You do. You and Jareth both- I'm not a bloody child."

She blinked at him, worried. "I never considered you a child."

He looked up sharply. "Well, then maybe you should have," he growled. That seemed to confuse her more but it was night and he was tired. "I'm going to bed. And never mind whether Brethiliaur can find out where that stupid palace is, tomorrow I'm making plans to leave."

She tried once more- "Toby..."

"No! Stop telling me how to run my life."

"Listen!"

He stopped short and stared at her, challenging her to say something. Anything. But he wasn't going to help her.

Taking a few calming breathes, Gwenél pulled the sheets up around her and tried to think of a way to explain herself without upsetting Toby even more. "You're angry," she ventured, "I know you hurt. We all feel for your position in this. I saw the scrying too and we- all three of us- can understand the hurt and anger you must be feeling. Yet running straight to Jareth might be very dangerous. Taking Arradine will be even more so. Think, mellon nín; we only want to help you. Do not keep pushing us away."

"Help?" Toby came closer and leaned over, angry even though he couldn't have given a reason for love or money. "So you'd lie on your back and spread your legs for the sake of the Underground, is that it? Well, you've certainly done your part, now, haven't you? Thanks so very much! I'll be sure to talk about your generosity with my husband, the one I married, the one who fathered a child with me!"

The shout died away to a brief echo.

Gwenél almost punched the mortal on the nose for not speaking sooner. She couldn't believe he had only taken this out of guilt.

"I'm married, Gwenél. I don't know how elves feel about that, but my mom was pretty specific that it meant being completely faithful to the one you promised to share your life with."

"No one in the Underground makes such a promise." The words were out before she had stopped herself. The darkness seemed too oppressive suddenly and she fumbled quickly for a light when Toby drew back from her with a sharp intake of breath. "Toby, I am sorry. I assumed that humans were much the same. I didn't think that you…"

"Is that true? Marriage here isn't just for two people?"

"No, no, it is. Toby, it is just for two people. You must believe that. Two people are bound in the eyes of their world to each other and they live as such, sharing their lives and what comes with it."

"But you're right... Jareth never promised to be faithful. He never said anything about loving me and honouring me and whatever other crap it is that we mortals say for our marriages. All he did was bind with me and say he did it willingly. He never promised to be faithful."

Too many words, too many feelings- all rushing around in his head and giving him a migraine. He wondered bleakly if banging his head on the wall would help but didn't think he had the strength to look for a hard root in the earth walls. The door? Too far. He sat down and groaned; digging his fingers into his eyes to ease the pressure somewhat.

Gwenél touched the heated brow hurriedly. It felt like a fever lay on the mortal, which would explain the mood swings, surely?

Unexpectedly Toby heard those thoughts. Or sensed them from the close contact. "I'm not sick. I'm just tired. I haven't slept too well lately," he said.

What could she do? Now was hardly the time to order him to his own room; not after what she had allowed to happen, thinking it might help clear his mind. She could only talk and hope to put things right. "Toby, you have been upset ever since the scrying."

Toby looked back down again. He didn't want to talk about this. He really didn't want to talk. Gwenél was there and she was beautiful. "I saw him look happy," he admitted, "He was relaxed, like he was happy. Wherever he is, he wanted to be there. So why should I bring him back? He was always too selfish and too proud to really want to have anything to do with being a king. He did it because he had to. He was content, I think, being King and knowing he wasn't married to someone whom he despised. But he wasn't happy. He seemed happy in the scrying."

"Did he? I do not know your bond mate; I could not tell." She combed her fingers through the short golden hair. "Do you still doubt what Jareth intended by you?"

Toby shrugged. "Whatever he intended by me is irrelevant. He's not here. He's in some castle somewhere and hasn't bothered to try and find me. To be fair, I'm here with you and I haven't bothered much either. That feels wrong."

"Would you go back to him?"

"He has to ask, but yes."

"For Arradine?" Gwenel stressed.

"There's Arra to think about, sure, and I'd like her to have a good home if I can manage it, preferably with both parents. But I want him back. He's mine. Archer once asked me if I would leave Jareth if I knew he'd be happier without me. I said no."

Gwenél frowned. "Why no?" she asked.

Blue eyes looked at her as if the answer were the most obvious in the world. "Whether or not we love each other is beside the point. We're bond mates and that's something that goes beyond any emotion. He feels me and I feel him; no one else understands us like we do. I'm not giving that up."

"He needed you," Gwenél interpreted, "And you need him."

"Yes. Well, I'm only comfortable when he's around. Being in love with him... I'm not so sure. You're right; I'm angry with him. In fact I'm furious with him. He had no right not to come back."

"He was captured, was he not?"

Toby snorted and yanked the blankets up to keep warm, picking at the soft wool with absent fingers. "Did it look like the dungeons to you? He was reading in a window seat for God's sake! In a silk robe! How captive can that be?"

He did have a point. The former Goblin King had not sounded like the kind who would take capture so well, even six years later. And there was the matter of the dyed-black hair. Was it a disguise? And had he adopted it or had someone forced it on him?

"... and he's magically strong enough to fight anyone who dares to force him."

She shook her brown head as she realized she had just missed the entire conversation. "Pardon?"

Toby bounced on the bed in frustration and pulled the blankets closer as the wind pushed at the windows. "His magic," he repeated, "Jareth's very strong, that way. He could probably have fought that stupid war on his own, only he said something about tradition and honour. I didn't even know Jareth knew what honour was until then."

Gwenél laughed at the comment. "My father always remarked that honour was a singularly difficult emotion for Jareth. He was baffled by the way the Goblin King discarded some ideals and adopted others, seemingly with no set pattern."

Toby joined in too, chuckling as he nodded. "He wouldn't ever let a child in his care be hurt, even accidentally, because that meant his honour was apparently at stake. But he didn't care about cheating when someone was running the Labyrinth. He used to lead them up the garden path himself."

The laughter dried a little. "Garden path? I do not understand."

"Oh. It means to lead someone in the wrong direction. Jareth used to enjoy it. It was like a game to him, where he knew he could win but loved the challenge of doing something different every time. I never really got a chance to watch him, though. I only saw it happen once after we were bound."

She nodded understandingly, wondering if the mortal knew that he shone when he spoke about his bond mate, angry or not. She didn't think he did, or he would have realized that all his emotions stemmed from betrayal. Or what he saw as betrayal. From both their parts.

"My father was very happy to hear that the Goblin King was taking a consort at last. Jareth should have been married these hundreds of years past. Yet with his father..." she stopped when Toby stiffened and stared intently at her, "His father took a consort just as late. Indeed, he was six hundred when he married, and only saw two hundred years of his son's life."

"And that's not normal, I take it. So everyone usually marries early on and then lives for hundreds of years here? Wouldn't that get confusing? The King would probably live to see his great-grandchildren. How'd they decide who got the throne if there were all these heirs?"

"The eldest child," Gwenél answered, "The Castle was meant to house the royal family. In the old days it was filled with people. You see it as a shadow of its former self. The Wished-Aways too would live with there, under their protection and tutelage. My father mentioned that your bond mate was never fond of sharing, however; Jareth persuaded his father to build the Ivory Tower for the humans. It has been so ever since."

"Oh." There was really nothing much else to say. Yes, Jareth did hate sharing. He liked his space. Even as much as he'd loved Arradine, Jareth had hated her demands on his time, biting down on all too obvious frustration when forced to tend to her instead of keeping to his own rambling schedule. "Gwenél, he won't thank me for going to him now."

Her heart sank to see that sad look on Toby's face. The elf maid had come to care for the mortal and his child; she didn't like to think that Toby might perhaps be right. "You are welcome to remain with us," she offered, "If Brethiliaur and Maegorod agree and I would ask their permission first. Or you may return to the Aboveground, to your family. You are not married in the eyes of your laws; you may make a new life for yourself there."

Toby shook his head and sighed, lighting another candle as he shivered in the half-darkness. "I don't belong there. I never have. I'm almost sure that the bond actually made me grow more suited to the Underground than the Aboveground. Maybe if I had never lived here, or if I really believed that the Aboveground was the only place Arradine was safe, then I'd go. But right now I can't leave. Arradine is the Heir. If something happens I should be here to hear it."

The elf considered the question. "It has always been my opinion- if I may state it- that Arradine would be far safer in the Aboveground than in the Underground. You could take her to your family and return to find Jareth."

"That's a good plan, but everyone knows that I'm from the Aboveground. They're probably keeping a watch to make sure that I haven't taken Arra there yet. And anyway, my parents and sister can't fight this battle. I have to leave them out of it."

"So you will do this alone?"

"As far as Hoggle, Ludo and Didymus will let me. I want to know that Jareth's okay. I miss him."

She smiled at the half-shamed way that he said it, the words almost swallowed by a self-conscious cough and his eyes unable to meet hers. Yes, he missed him. He was more in love that he knew. "No wonder you never call my name," she teased, "Your head is filled with him."

But Toby shook his head and laughed at her, somewhat rueful and still sad. "I don't see Jareth when I'm having sex with you, Gwenél. I'm sorry to disappoint your theories, but I know exactly who I'm lying on top of. I never call your name because I figure you don't want to hear it."

"You what?" she paled and actually pulled back a little.

"Gwenél," he crawled across the bed to pull her out from under the sheets and into his lap, "I could never ever mistake you for Jareth. I don't want to! I'm not sleeping with you because I'm desperate; I genuinely like you. Didn't you know that?"

"N-no, I..."

"Never thought about it, I know. I'm not kidding when I say that I don't know how I feel for Jareth. I don't even know if I'll be able to sleep with him again if I see him. I've never been gay- that means attracted to males- and he was my first. With his experience and my lack of it, there was no way that I couldn't be aroused. And when you're seventeen and very aroused, you'll do anything to find relief."

"Is that not what this is?" Gwenel asked timidly, pointing between the two of them.

He shrugged and pulled her hair off her face, stroking her jaw as he did so. "What I do with you feels... natural. When I was with Jareth, I was going through some pretty mixed up times. I think I was secretly more in awe of him that anything else. He was this complex character who thought I was worth being concerned with. I was grateful for that. But I'm all grown-up now and I don't need to experiment or take my pleasure anywhere I can get it."

"Toby, I only sought to provide relief and comfort. I never offered love."

"I'm not asking for it," he soothed, "We're friends who have good sex. Jareth was not a friend, believe me. He was always King. I need different things, now, but I don't think he'll ever give me that."

"What if he can?"

"I don't know."

Gwenél was well aware that a hand was inching its way up her thigh. And there were two things she could do- stop it, or let it continue. She did nothing. But she did use the distraction to press her advantage on a point that had been bothering her- "It would be wiser to wait for spring, lirimaer. Traveling in winter is cold work."

Toby shrugged absently and trailed careful nails over the soft skin on her inner thigh. When he looked up, she was staring at him, an unreadable cold expression in her eyes. It seemed to be asking him a question or warning him of something. So he kissed her, recklessly, because there was nothing else that he could do.

His bond mate could wait through the winter in his enormous palace somewhere amongst the mountains. After all, he didn't look to be in much danger.

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He couldn't breathe. The pain in his chest was so bad that he couldn't breathe! He curled into the smallest ball he could make in the enormous bed and prayed fervently that that spot above his heart would stop aching.

A cool hand was on his brow, soft voice soothingly whispering in his ear.

But the pain was still excruciating and there was nothing that could stop it. He whimpered, wishing that the sickness would go away, worried that he was dying and that his son would be left alone in a world that was nothing if not harsh.

"Be still, dearest. It will ease."

And there was his Master, sliding into his mind like a blood-slicked skewer, twisting and maneuvering so that he couldn't feel the pain any more. He couldn't feel it! And somehow that hurt worse than the pain ever had.