Author's Note: Thanks so much for your positive response to the story. But people seem to be a little confused as to the nature of both previous chapters. Are they really that enigmatic? Must be Jareth's work!
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"Ada, when will..." Toby cast a warning look at Arradine and she realized her mistake instantly. Speaking elvish was not permitted in front of her father. "Dad. Dad, when will Harvey and Cassandra be back from Canada?"
"Probably in a month, why?" Toby asked, casually flirting with the idea of eating. He wasn't very hungry. He never was on the rare occasion that Jareth joined them for dinner.
The Goblin King was not, himself, eating. He was sitting in his chair at the table with his fingers loosely wrapped around the glass he had been drinking from all night, eyelids at half-mast and his eyes glittering at everyone as they spoke in turn.
Usually meals were comfortable and easy-going. Toby didn't mind his children speaking so long as they observed the strict rules not to throw anything or talk with their mouth full. As his mother had always out it, "No dazzling conversation can make up for the sight of a half-chewed piece of dead animal". And he agreed.
"Father showed me where Canada was on the map," Ereditha piped up proudly. Out of all of them, she was the least afraid of Jareth. "And then he painted a picture for me."
Toby swallowed what tasted like dry sawdust and offered Jareth and his daughter a weak smile. "Did he? What picture was it this time?"
Jareth stiffened a little and made some movement of his head as Ereditha looked to him. She seemed to take the hint because she bit at her bottom lip and thought hard. "A cat?" she offered finally.
Arradine hid her face very quickly in the glass of water and tried not to laugh. The lie was so easy she was tempted to challenge her little sister on it. Aidan seemed to be a similar predication and Ereditha stared in confusion at her two older siblings, frowning a little. Arradine only giggled harder, while Aidan gave way to helpless laughter.
Ereditha pouted and looked pleadingly to Toby as a last resort. The mortal swallowed his laughter but shook his head. "Oh no, Red. You're going to have to live with this one. I'm not helping you here."
"Do not worry, little one," Jareth broke in smoothly, "They are only ill-mannered people who don't know how pretty the cat was." He tried not to spoil the comfort by allowing his mouth to twitch into a gentle smirk.
Toby narrowed his eyes at the cool dismissal but evidently the other two took it in good humour because they only smiled and accepted the slur with a mock glare.
"And you, my son, what will it be this time for your birthday?" Jareth asked, neatly turning the topic away from his little daughter to something everyone could enjoy.
The birthday wishes were one of the few traditions that the broken little family shared together. Within reason, Jareth presented his children with a special crystal every year for their birthdays, allowing them to wish for whatever it was that they most wanted. The only condition the parents laid down was that the wish be decided in front of them a few days before the crystal was constructed. Otherwise they feared to house a dragon in the Castle.
Aidan perked up, quite happy for once to be the centre of attention if it was his father doing the attending. Attention of this kind had been very scarce of late. "I am not sure," he admitted. Hesitating a little, he looked to his dad before plunging boldly on. "Perhaps something a little more mature this year?" He knew what he really wished for, but he didn't think Jareth could give it to him. After all, his father hadn't had 'the time' for him since he turned thirteen!
Toby looked pointedly to Jareth so as to give him a hint of what the boy was alluding to. But Jareth wasn't looking at him- he usually never did- and chose instead to stare with a peculiar expression at Aidan's reddening cheeks. The dark slanting brows pulled together for a moment in a frown and Jareth actually shifted position to lean forward for a closer stare.
"And just what would this more mature wish be?" he asked quietly, tempering the words with a smile.
Aidan saw the smile and relaxed a little, guessing that he hadn't overstepped the boundaries just yet. "Perhaps... fighting knives or- or a sword or..."
"Not a dancing girl, I hope," Arradine teased, "That would be very entertaining. I would love to see Father's face if you did that."
Toby grinned suddenly at the thought. And at the implications! Jareth- so stiff-necked that he wouldn't tolerate a dancing girl? Not likely!
Jareth seemed to be thinking along the same lines because he was staring at the liquid in his glass with a rueful sigh. "I am hardly a prude," he reminded Arradine smartly, "And I would thank you to remember that."
"So you would have no problem with Aidan wishing for dancing girls?" Arradine challenged.
"What is a dancing girl?" Ereditha demanded.
Conversation stopped. A nine year old was not necessarily the most innocent of people. But Ereditha had a remarkable incapacity to distinguish between information that could be safely told her from information that was too adult for her. And both Toby and Jareth would have preferred not to tell her anything about dancing girls. It had been hard enough having The Talk with Arradine! Eventually, they'd agreed to let Lorelei do it.
Though- as Toby had once bitterly remarked to Fiorle in the second year- it wasn't as though Jareth couldn't have done it himself. After all the times Toby had woken up in the middle of the night with the bond aching and needling... it was a wonder the Goblin King could even crawl out of bed in the morning, let alone walk so straight.
No one else seemed to want to answer the question so he sighed and attempted to muddle his way through it. No doubt his 'husband' would at least appreciate the humiliation. "A dancing girl is a woman who dresses in a costume and dances for people. People pay her to dance for them."
"Like a ballerina?"
"Not quite," Toby was forced to admit, "Like- like the girls in 'Arabian Nights'. Do you remember? When Ali Baba entertains the thieves in his home?"
The scrunched up nose unwrinkled and then Ereditha was off on a long discussion on how pretty the costumes were and how much she wanted to wear them and did her parents think she could be a dancing girl when she grew up?
"You're already a princess, little one," Jareth said, "I don't think princesses can be dancing girls."
"No? Well, why not?"
"Dancing girls are born in the dead of the night under a special moon," Jareth wove, elaborately pitching his voice to carry the dramatics. It seemed to be working; Ereditha was enchanted, her eyes big while the spoon had stopped half-way to her mouth. "Unfortunately, you were born in the afternoon..."
Twenty-eight hours after he went into labour, Toby remembered.
"... under the scorching heat of an Underground summer's day."
Which Toby had been protected from because he had been taken almost immediately to the room where he now sleep and banished from ever entering Jareth's rooms ever again.
He felt a gaze on his face and he looked up from the goblet he was tracing with his eyes to see Jareth watching him from over the lip of his glass. The dual-coloured eyes were knowing, almost as if they could read the thoughts in his head and Toby raised his face defiantly, mocking the Goblin King right back.
"So the wish," he commented, "Maybe we should give you two. One for the day when Red can see it, and the other for a... more personal time?"
Aidan blushed again and stared down to the remains of his dinner as Arradine sniggered into her hand.
Toby grinned a little but took pity on the poor child. There was a limit to how much any teenager could stand to be teased about their growing sexual urges by their parents. He himself would have preferred to hide under the table rather than listen to another suggestive comment.
The meal was almost over as it was, and it ended when Arradine and Ereditha had a long argument about the origins of the grangers. The two were fascinated by grangers for the moment, Fiorle having begun to teach them about the rare creatures of the Underground that lived in the Goblin Kingdom. Jareth duly stopped them from pulling faces at each other and the two gracelessly looked at each other and burst into giggles.
The Goblin King only sighed and shook his moon-blond head. "It is a marvel that a sixteen year old young lady still behaves like a child of nine."
Arradine noticed the veiled rebuke and sobered up quickly, dropping her head to stare at her hands neatly disposed of in her lap. "Sorry, Father," she murmured.
Jareth leaned forward and flicked her cheek with his gloved finger. Toby remembered that gesture. It had been such a teasing, affectionate gesture from someone who seemed to constantly rejoice in touch. It had burned on his cheek like a brand for full minutes after the finger had withdrawn. Arradine did not experience what he had experienced, but she did look up and smile.
"I think we can safely agree that dinner is over," Toby sighed tiredly, rising to his feet and going to the door, "Hubor, could you clear the dishes, please?" The little goblin bowed and looked into the room. One look at Jareth and he looked hurriedly back up at Toby and whispered something.
Jareth watched with no little jealousy, noting the way that Toby's golden hair had grown. The mortal had grown his hair and once more it curled on the back of his neck. The golden throat was so slender and that wide mouth... Jareth felt a very definite ache when he looked at the way the lips smiled and laughed.
He rose and drained the bitter substance in his glass, picking up the bottle at his elbow and pouring out another measure. He really shouldn't be drinking it, but he would allow himself the soft haze. It restored him, made him feel less tired all the time.
The three young members of the strange family didn't notice any sign of morbid reflection, either on Jareth's face, or on Toby's. Ereditha was yawning and Arradine was not much better off.
"Go to bed," Toby said gently, "Good night, all of you."
The three nodded and left. Good night kisses were not a part of their bedtime ritual. Toby had been too heartbroken to kiss his children during those early years unless it was for something special, and Jareth... well, Jareth rarely touched them with bare skin.
"Toby, I would like to speak with you," Jareth snapped out.
The mortal turned from his way out the door to level a knowing gaze at the room's last occupant. The good humour had vanished once more and Jareth was flushed from his wine and his still-seething anger. "What can I do for you?" he asked.
"In private," Jareth ordered, picking his bottle up in one hand and his glass in another and waving Toby out the door, "The Library, if you please. No one will enter it at night."
They walked in silence for the most part, but Toby was far too conscious of the fact that Jareth was drinking that wine as if it were water and he was dying of thirst. The third glass found its way down that white throat and he was beginning to get very suspicious of the state of his bond mate by the time they reached the quiet library. But he dared not make any suggestions to counteract it. It would only lead to an argument and they had argued horribly the last time they had seen each other. Jareth had walked out of the room with a split lip.
"What? No words?" Jareth needled, "Nothing to say after an entire year?"
Toby shrugged. "You drink too much," he commented, a distasteful look at the bottle.
Jareth chuckled and poured himself another glass. He was drinking far too much. The next day would not be pleasant. The specially prepared wine was gloriously empowering, but the swirling vortex that it threw all his emotions into was not the best experience. A little every day was acceptable; now he wasoverdosing very heavily on it.
"I drink as I live my life," he commented whimsically, raising the glass in a silent toast to nothing before tossing it down.
Toby compressed his lips and continued to walk. He was not going to say anything more than he needed to. What was there to say anyway? Jareth had said it all a long time ago, in actions as well as words. It had hurt. Did the Goblin King realize how much it had hurt to go through that nightmarish birthing alone? With only a dwarf healer and a fae companion to help him through it? Did Jareth even know that he had been bleeding so profusely Lorelei had despaired of keeping him alive? Or even how badly it had hurt to sit up in spite of all that because his baby needed to be fed?
Fiorle had been there for that. Fiorle had helped him to sit up and said nothing when the tears had insisted on falling because of the pain. Fiorle had helped him to the bathroom when it was needed and helped him roll over when he didn't have the energy himself and fed him and changed him and helped care for a child that simply wouldn't stop crying!
And the nightmares! Oh God, the nightmares! Karen had told Toby it is was okay to get a little depressed after the birth. But it wasn't depression. He didn't hate himself, just his dreams. He hadn't even been able to sleep alone. Hell, he hadn't been able to walk for two weeks. But Jareth had come to see him only a few times, and never stayed more than a few moments.
"Such reflective silence," Jareth mumbled, "Such romance. I feel positively young again."
"You're hardly old."
"I'm hardly young. At four hundred and sixty nine, my elf, I would say I was in my prime. Don't you think?"
"What is the point of this conversation?" Toby interrupted.
Jareth put his hands up in a show of mock surrender. The bottle and glass had disappeared away somewhere. "I was only attempting to talk to you."
"About yourself again? I know how old you are; you don't need to tell me." Toby was not in a good mood. He never was when Jareth wanted to speak to him. It usually meant he was going to be raked over the coals for something and he didn't want that. Not after a year with no word. He couldn't keep hoping like this. He was thirty-five, dammit! Did life always suck?
Jareth said nothing more until they had entered the Library and then the reckless easiness had slipped away from him like a cloak, replaced with a very focused pair of hard eyes. "About that little stunt you pulled in my Labyrinth," he began.
Toby held up a warning hand. "I felt something happen in the Labyrinth and looked to see if there was any danger. I saw you, fighting with enough wolves to tear you to pieces and I saw the mortal, on her own and defenceless. It was lucky that I went to check on her because you managed to lose track of one of them."
"There were ten," Jareth protested, "What did you expected me to do?"
"How about something that actually doesn't get you killed," Toby snapped, "Like a nice big wall of fire. Wolves don't like walking into fire. You know that by now, surely?"
"Not all of us have inherent knowledge of the character traits of wolves," Jareth growled, "And as for my ignorance on the matter, I prefer to keep it that way. You were forbidden to enter the Labyrinth on any account, were you not?"
Toby opened his mouth to argue and caught That Look in Jareth's eyes. "Yes," he settled.
"And did you enter the Labyrinth?"
"Yes."
"And what would you have done if I had not come back to protect Norma? That wolf had you on your back and he was ripping your intestines out of you."
"He never laid a scratch on me," Toby protested, "I never let him close enough. If you mean to tell me that you rescued me, then you're way out of line. I don't need your help in a fight, Jareth, so stop patting yourself on the back for protecting another of your little subjects."
The Goblin King blinked and half-smiled. "I would never mistake you for one of my subjects," he commented, "My subjects would never dare to speak so to me."
Toby snorted derisively and turned away, stomping to the nearest chair and sitting down. Jareth was far too temperamental and far too enigmatic. Why did the Goblin King want to talk to him? There had been nothing new said so far.
"I want your word that you will not do something like that again," Jareth said quietly, standing in front of him with his arms folded, a serious look on his face. "I will not always have the time to come to your aid. Nevermindyour feelings on this matter, you will not leave the Castle on any account ever again."
"I'll do what I want, Jareth..."
"No, you will not."
"Look, if I feel there's something wrong, I'm going to go out to do something about it. What if it's one of the children? What if one of them gets into trouble and I feel it? Do you want me to sit by and do nothing? What if Arradine gets kidnapped or Aidan gets injured?"
Jareth took a hasty step backwards. "Nothing will happen to Aidan," he snapped breathlessly, "Nothing! Don't tempt faith by speaking of it!"
Toby's eyes narrowed. It sounded as if Jareth was trying to reassure himself more than someone else. And the Goblin King had looked at Aidan in a peculiarly hesitant manner all night... was there something wrong? Some threat that Toby didn't know about? "Jareth, what is it? What's Aidan done now?"
A quick shake of the moon-blond head and Jareth brought his mind briskly back to the present. "Nothing," he sighed, "Aidan has done nothing."
"Then why does it sound like you're lying?"
A book was picked up and put down again, restless fingers rifling its pages for a minute before an answer was forthcoming. "Aidan will be safe. Give me your word you will not let any harm happen to them. You will stay in the Castle and protect them, won't you? Do what I can't?"
"Jareth, stop speaking in riddles." Toby was getting scared now. "Just tell me what's happening? Has someone threatened you?"
"No one threatens anything." Archer... He put his hand to his head, trying to still those thoughts... long skinny fingers and the wrinkled brow... sweet kisses at midnight... "No one threatens them. Just go." He couldn't control himself much longer, he knew. He would lose his remaining sanity if he did. Blast that wine!
"But Jareth, I'm worried..."
"Get out!"
Toby found himself standing outside the door of the library just seconds later, the door locked against him and a raging desire to be back inside that room, even if the sounds of smashing crystal and ripping books was any indication of his bond mate's mood.
Something was wrong. And he wished- God, how he wished!- that Jareth would just stop shutting him out.