Author's Note: Is this getting confusing? Even worse, is it getting boring? I don't see many people interested at this point of time. I don't mean to plague people by asking for reviews and certainly I don't want anyone to feel they need to flatter my ego, but if something isn't working then do tell me. I can work on it if I know what it is.

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"Daddy, can we go home?"

"No, Arra, we can't."

"But I'm cold!"

He looked down in disbelief. It was certainly cold at nights in the forests since the sun didn't manage to break through the thick foliage as much as he would like, but his daughter was not the kind to feel the cold. She simply wasn't capable of it. And even if she did, it would probably just invigorate her.

He shrugged silently out of his cloak and offered it to her. Her eyes went wide and then she shook her head- "But what will you wear?"

"I'll be fine. Are you really cold?"

She bit her lip and looked down at her toes.

"Sweetheart, lying isn't going to make me take you back. I did warn you this would be a long trip."

"I want to see Ada."

Toby put the cloak back on. "We're looking for him. Just a little more and we should be able to ask someone if they've seen him." At knifepoint, he added silently to himself.

Arradine yawned and lay back down, snuggling into the blankets that Toby had brought for the nights. She looked like nothing so much than a kitten, curled into a little ball with her silver blond hair tufting up where the blanket wasn't quite pulled over her head. Unbidden, the mortal thought of taking a picture and then remembered that Underground didn't have cameras. And probably a good thing or people wouldn't rest until they'd wished themselves down here. Toby could just imagine what the average human holidaymaker could do to the place.

"Sleep well, Arra," he whispered, stroking her hair.

Sir Didymus came back with more wood, panting slightly as he put down the small branches that he had collected for the fire. In spite of his size and his tenacious chivalry, Sir Didymus was a good companion. No job was too small and he was loyal. Besides, he was very good with Arradine and told her all the fairy tales her little heart could desire.

Toby was glad that the other three had come with him. He would have gone mad or gotten lost very soon if they hadn't. The sketched map was proving itself to be more than incomplete.

"My Lord, I pray you good night," Sir Didymus interrupted, yawning as he settled down on the hard ground.

Toby blinked. Sleep? Oh. Night. Yes, one tended to sleep at night. Unless one didn't know quite where one was and didn't want to wake up with the enemy happily carting one's friends and daughter away. So no. He was 'keeping watch'. At least until he felt a little more confident of where he was.

He stayed up half the night until Hoggle grunted at him and sat up, rubbing his hip irritably and mumbling quietly about stones on the ground. "You get some sleep, Toby," he said, "I can't."

It was a good plan. Toby had initially been very happy for the chance to get some rest. His eyes were beginning to play tricks on him and any escape from his traitorous mind was pleasant. Unfortunately he found himself in a place he recognized from countless dreams before. He wasn't even aware of entering it but there it was, cracks and crevices in broken stone.

The Escher Room was a frustration and he knew he'd wake up more tired than when he went to sleep. But somehow the dream never let him out until he wandered for as long as he could stand it. He stood up with a groan as he tried to look through all the mists and fogs. The Escher Room was always in this state. Toby was tired of hitting his foot on a staircase or falling down one. He didn't see why he needed to keep visiting the same useless place.

"Jareth?" he called warily, hoping that somehow this time would be different. But it wasn't. It was the same tiring, dreary dream of searching for something that wasn't there. "This," he said aloud, "Is getting boring."

The "I agree" came from nowhere to stun him into immobility.

The creature that followed the words didn't encourage movement either. The over-large, pointed ears were pricked up, rising out of thick, dark, bronze-coloured curls. The creature was freakishly skeletal. However, everything paled in comparison to those eyes. They blazed with a kind of feverish desperation in their mismatched depths- the one blue, the other brown... Jareth's eyes.

"Who are you?" Toby demanded, taking a healthy step back and glaring suspiciously.

The creature shuffled forward and held out a hand. "You have no need to fear, mortal."

"Yeah, right! I'm supposed to believe you?"

"If you take one more step to the right, you will hit your head on a staircase," the Spirit reasoned, shrugging casually beneath its ragged clothes. "We search for the same goal. I suggest we combine our efforts."

"Forget it. I don't know you."

The Spirit sighed and raised a hand to pinch the bridge of its long, straight nose with long, slender fingers with ragged nails. The Spirit had spent a long time waiting for the return of its Steward and it was beginning to get antsy. This kind of thing was not usually done; the Spirit of the Labyrinth never voluntarily appeared to people other than its selected favourite. And mortals were not highly favoured. "Be calm. I do not intend to harm you. Your body is safe."

"Excuse me?"

"Your bond mate did tell me of your torment. I assume you have not forgotten it."

Toby stared. His torment? Was this being in front of him actually talking about his rapes? But no one knew about that except Archer, his family, Arienne and Jareth. Not even Kyfrem knew. How did this stranger know?

He summoned a crystal, steeling himself for an attack he was sure was coming. "Tell me who you are, and what you want. How'd you get into my dream anyway?"

The colourful scars and tattoos on the Spirit face swirled gently as it smiled and bowed. "I am the power in that crystal in your hand."

"The Labyrinth?" The crystal disappeared very fast.

"The Labyrinth."

"Shit, I'm sorry! I didn't know it was you. I've never seen you and Jareth never said... I'm sorry. I thought you were something to do with fairies."

"Understandable. Now, I require your help."

Toby nodded and came closer, not even registering when his foot caught briefly in the jagged edge of one of the flagstones.

The Spirit waved away a puff of mist and snorted. "My Lord cannot return here too soon. This place is terrible! Your bond mate is missed by his lands and I would have my favoured one returned to me. I will help you."

"But Jareth's..." Toby stopped. How was he supposed to tell the Spirit of the Labyrinth that its favoured one was currently relaxing in a faerie palace with no thought except to enjoy himself. "I don't know if he will return, Spirit."

The Spirit considered that question, head tilted as it surveyed this human being who crassly seemed to consider himself the only one suitable for this job. The Spirit would have been happy enough to send someone else, someone more suitable. The fragile soul he had once held in his hand did not seem the type of person that could stand the journey ahead. Not with what the Spirit knew of what lay ahead.

"What will you give for the truth, mortal?" it asked finally, a bony arm swaying limply through the fog.

The blond head shook, bright gold in the dull grey. "I'll break a crystal for the truth. But Jareth promised I would never have to."

"I see. Very well, I will give you the truth for the asking. But I will tell you that you will not enjoy it."

"I have a six year old daughter who has never met her father and never seen her people. I have no dreams and no hope. I still shiver when someone touches me without permission. And the one person I thought could keep me safe has run away. I think I can handle it, don't you?"

The Spirit could feel the honesty in that reply. In truth, it could feel those thoughts before the words had been spoken, and had known what the reply would be. It was prepared to give the answers readily. Within reason, of course. The Spirit couldn't reveal all because that would be involvement and it was not supposed to be involved with the living. "He has not run away. Your bond mate has forgotten." Perhaps honesty was for the best in this case, however.

Blue eyes blinked. Toby opened his mouth to say he didn't understand but nothing came out. So he shut it again, shook his head to clear it and looked pleadingly to the creature.

"He has forgotten. The Escher Room is a reflection of him, as it were. You see it now as it is without his touch- lost and grey. The thoughts and emotions that peopled it are gone, hidden by a force that is more potent even than my own power. This is why you return to this night after night, calling for him with no result. He cannot answer what he cannot hear. And he cannot hear what he does not think to hear. He has no knowledge of this. All that he is has been lost to the mists and the fog, leaving him to function without his sense of identity."

"But, how is that possible? No one just forgets. But then he didn't return, did he?" Toby sat down very suddenly, his knees giving out as the full force of the concept hit him somewhere in the stomach. The Spirit crumpled to his side, long fingers on his shoulder as he concentrated on breathing. "He hasn't come back because he can't remember what back is."

"Yes. If he knew who he was, or what he had been, this room would tell you. You would find him here. The bond would not let this happen willingly. You have both suffered for the separation, I think."

Golden hands clenched in his lap and Toby looked down to them, seeing the scratches and small scars from working hard with them every day for the past six years. It would be seven years in a month and he had betrayed his bond mate in the worst way possible, thinking that Jareth had betrayed him. He had believed Jareth capable of such cold selfishness, just like everyone else. And Jareth had only been unable to return.

"I cannot feel him because- unconsciously or consciously- he is cut from me, just as he is from you. Perhaps he seeks to protect himself? Perhaps he protects someone else? I cannot answer these questions."

"Please, you've got to tell me something more. Anything. Can you feel whether he's okay? Is he in pain? Is there a way I can see him or get him to open to me? Spirit, how did this happen?"

The creature stared at him with a peculiar expression in its mismatched eyes. Toby knew that expression- fear and concern mixed with apprehension. Jareth's eyes on the one night Toby had taken him. Without thinking, the mortal grabbed hold of a thin shoulder and shook, feeling the delicate bones creak ominously beneath his hand.

"Tell me," he ground out, "What else do you know?"

"The beginning," the Spirit of the Labyrinth wrenched its arm away, "I saw him lose."

Toby sat back, his blankest expression on his face.

"The goblins were dying of fear as a spell loosed itself within their ranks. Jareth worked to counteract it, but more died every day. His mind was strong, but the magic was black and he eventually succumbed to it. Someone knew of this, and someone took the advantage to raid the camp."

"Who?"

The Spirit seemingly ignored the question to continue its tale. "The Goblin King was captured; his troops taken prisoner. A few escaped and came to warn you. Your bond mate was taken with little ceremony and less care to his present dungeon. He fought well, but the black magic leeched his ability. His mind was taken. He was lost."

"Oh God! I- I don't..." Toby was trying to form a coherent sentence but nothing would leave his mouth. "Dungeon? He- he was not in a dungeon when... what did they... how..." There were too many questions. He remembered Jareth once telling him something about the danger of losing his mind.

"He was removed from the actual dungeons when he gave in. For reasons you will soon see, his captor could not leave him there. And his captor had no intention of ever doing so. His memory has been suppressed and he believes himself a different person to the one you knew. And though you saw him in seeming luxury, there are different dungeons than the cellars beneath the palace. I am sure you remember hell as a garden at midnight."

"No!" Toby didn't realize he was awake until Hoggle whacked him across the face and yelled in his ear. "No, God, please..." The guilt was unbearable.

Arradine was awake and whimpering, rocked soothingly in Ludo's arms as she watched Toby curl into a fetal position and cover his head with his arms, as though to hide from something. She had never seen her dad cry. He had always been so grown-up and so controlled. He had always been able to do anything. He wasn't supposed to behave like this. What had happened? Why was her dad saying her father's name over and over?

"D- did he have a b-bad dream?" she asked, whispering to Ludo.

The beast nodded mournfully and patted her head gently with his enormous paw. "Toby... bad dream..." It seemed to bring her some comfort so he kept patting her, saying everything would come right as best he could in his broken, childish way.

The morning was spent at camp. Toby wandered off eventually, returning hours later with a mask of a face and a brace of fresh game in his hands. He offered up the fruits of his hunt and took his exhausted daughter in his arms, holding her sleeping form as if it brought some measure of peace to him to look at her. And it did. Toby knew that it did. She made the world right for him.

Yes, hell had been a public park and pitiless moonlight. But the loss of his memory was possibly just a precaution; the Goblin King wouldn't try to escape if he didn't know he was the Goblin King. And Archer would never hurt him, surely? Jareth wouldn't necessarily have been harmed. Archer loved his cousin, and no matter how immoral that seemed, Toby hoped that that would be enough to keep Jareth safe. A few terrible experiences were bound to have wounded his pride but that could be tackled when Toby got him safely back to the elves.

The elves would know how to help... and that was always where the mental ruminating stopped. Because Toby knew in his heart that he could never take Jareth back to the Place of Time. The Goblin King was not meant for that world. No matter who he now was, Jareth never would survive without his Labyrinth and his Castle. And Toby meant to see that former glory restored. It was the least he could do.

Which was why he announced his presence in Archer's provinces by ripping the throat out of any fairy guard with his wolf-fangs, spreading the legend of a large brown wolf with blue eyes that hunted the fae in their own lands. And he drew attention away from the four others who followed silently on his trail.

Archer was stunned to enter his grounds one fine morning to find an unexpected visitor staring at an unexpected sight. One look at the back of that cropped short, fire-blond head and he had no illusions of just how delicate the situation was. So he did the only thing he could- he tapped the mortal on the shoulder and smiled down at his furious blue eyes.

"I believe you were looking for something, Master Elf?" he teased, glancing humorously behind Toby to the black-robed male sitting in the grass, completely unaware of his audience. "My pet is busy at this moment. Follow me and we can talk."

Toby stared searching at the Fairy Lord. His husband seemed unharmed, except for the collar. "He won't recognize me, will he?" he asked.

Archer shrugged airily and beckoned him in.

Toby followed.