Author's Note: The title of this chapter will become apparent a little later on, I promise.A few more hints are in this chapter. You guys should be getting it by now!

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Toby put down his book- rather involuntarily- when his youngest jumped straight on top of him and screamed in his ear. He shook his head slightly to clear the ringing but grinned anyway, hugging her tight in his arms.

"Can we go catch a granger?"

Toby shook his head. Ereditha was mortal all right; no other race ever wanted to capture everything of interest in its pudgy little hands like that. "No, Red. Grangers are not meant to be pets," he said firmly.

She huffed and began to turn red.

"One squeak from you and you go to your room and stay there until you stop behaving so badly."

She subsided. "But Daddy," she said urgently, "Fiorle said he'd take us to see the grangers if you allowed him."

"I see Ereditha has already presented my case."

Toby looked at the tall fae entering the door and shook his head disapprovingly. "And just how do you plan to let me tell the Goblin King that his children have been eaten by grangers."

Ereditha giggled and pulled gently at his hair. "Grangers don't eat us," she cried, beginning to bounce, "They eat leaves."

"She is right, my Lord."

"Stop that, Fiorle, or I'll send you to an oubliette for a few days to rethink that hideous title. Jareth won't let any of these three out into the plains, you know that."

"It will only be for a few hours," Fiorle pointed out, "He need never know they have gone. We will be back in plenty of time for the evening meal."

"Sorry, Red. Go tell Aidan and Arradine to stop terrorizing Hubor for food. None of you are leaving the Castle today." Toby pushed the little girl off his lap and sent her sulking out the door, grumbling under her breath. Fiorle only looked surprised by the decision, unusually harsh from someone who agreed that a practical education was the best thing for his children. "Fiorle, shut the door, will you? We need to talk."

"What is wrong?" the fairy asked immediately, shutting the door and striding down to the couch next to Toby's, "Has something happened? The Goblin King has said something?"

"Jareth? Well, yes in a way. No, not like that. He hasn't touched me- you know he doesn't care enough to do that- but he made me promise that I'd keep the kids safe. I don't why; he just blurted it out, as if he was scared that he wouldn't be able to do it himself. Which is really freaky because if Jareth can't do anything for them, how does he expect me to do it?"

Fiorle held up a large hand and stopped the avalanche of questions. He sat up and pushed his braid off his shoulder, confused by the words. "His Majesty said they were in danger? How is this?"

"I don't know," Toby growled, "He wouldn't tell me. Like I said, he just made me promise that nothing would hurt them."

"If I may ask, in what topic of conversation did this promise come up?"

Toby tried to think back. He remembered Jareth drinking, the irritation over his interference in matters concerning the Labyrinth... apart from that, things had been too disjointed to really make much sense. At the time, he had followed the conversation effortlessly, but now it seemed so incoherent. "He was raking me over the coals for going out into the Labyrinth. He wanted me to promise that I would never do it again. I said I couldn't; I pointed out it could very well have been the kids. You know how Arradine is always running off into the Labyrinth, no matter what Jareth says. I said I couldn't promise anything. I mentioned Aidan possibly being in trouble and he just went off the deep end."

"Hmmm..." the fae rubbed absently at his chin, trying to sort out what possible danger could come to his Lord's three children. "There has been nothing that I have heard of. And I would know. Nothing happens in the Castle that I do not find out for you."

"Yes, there is," Toby said dryly, "You still won't tell me who Jareth's new lovers are."

"That is because he does not have any in the Castle," Fiorle protested, "Unless they live in his art rooms, which is barred even from the goblin servants."

"Red goes up there but she's never seen any other people. Except Lorelei and even I won't accuse Jareth of that." Fiorle shot him a disquieted look, but Toby saw nothing since he was looking elsewhere. "Not that dwarves or goblins are not attractive people. They have their good points and Lorelei was very good to me. But Jareth... he's far too proud to take just anyone as his lover. He likes having a pretty handbag, I guess; wants people to envy him."

Fiorle preserved his silence.

"What? What did I say?"

"Nothing, my friend."

Toby blinked. There was something a little uncertain in his friend's voice and that was disconcerting. If there was something that Fiorle wasn't telling him, there would be trouble to pay. But as it stood, he couldn't accuse him of that. "Okay, then. So I thought we'd stay in for a few weeks and keep an eye on those devils of mine. And not a word to them or they'll stage elaborate schemes to draw this 'threat' out into the open."

Fiorle laughed, remembering how some rebel group of goblins had attempted to kidnap Ereditha. The Goblin King had ordered his guards to tear the Goblin City apart until the group was found. Arradine had set out her own plan- she'd sent Ereditha to play in the gardens and then waited with Aidan to capture anyone who tried to steal her little sister. With a lucky intervention from five goblin servants, they had actually accomplished their plan. And Ereditha had a tiny scar on her shoulder to prove it.

Toby smiled as well, but painfully. The Goblin King had been furious, and both Arradine and Aidan had been soundly tongue-lashed into an apology. But he had seen the fierce pride in Jareth's eyes as he'd watched his son and daughter walk dejectedly to their room, the small smile that tugged at the corners of that thin mouth. It had hurt to know that Jareth had been right to do what he did, no matter how heartless. Somehow it seemed an act of treachery. Jareth had stolen away his innocence, his life, his love, and now even his role as father was not worth much.

"My Lord," Fiorle called, standing before him with a hand on his shoulder, "Toby, are you awake?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm awake. What is it?"

"I was going to ask to take a day off," Fiorle explained, "The winds call to me with the promise of adventure and I... well, I cannot sit indoors on such a day."

The mortal shrugged and stood up himself. "Go ahead! You don't need my permission for that. I told you- you come or go as you please; there is nothing to stop you. I think I'll go down to the gardens and train again. I haven't picked up those knives in over a week."

"Are you certain you want to?" Deep brown eyes narrowed slightly, knowing the mortal better than Toby would like to admit. "The nightmare was of the rape, was it not?"

"It was a nightmare," Toby snapped, "And I will not let it control me. Go if you're going. But stop trying to analyse me, for God's sake!" He stalked off in ill temper, slamming the door shut behind him.

Fiorle nodded absently to himself, agreeing with the opinion that the nightmare had been worse than usual. There was only one reason that he still slept in Toby's bedchamber and that was the nightmares. The mortal had handled everything else apart from them. And he still woke up crying or whimpering in the middle of the night, desperate for comfort and desperate for release.

Comfort, the fae had been willing to offer; release, no. He couldn't offer that and Toby wouldn't accept it even if he had. There was simply no attraction at all between them and Fiorle knew Toby's position on homosexuality. It was ironic, considering what Fiorle knew of his husband's life.

What was even more ironic was that this husband was not precisely homosexual by choice- he leaned towards heterosexual with homosexual tendencies- but by circumstance. Jareth had early learned that love couldn't be packaged according to gender. It was a sad situation for any thirteen-year-old to learn. And while Fiorle willingly admitted that the Goblin King was behaving like a spoiled brat and a tyrant, he still harboured a certain sympathetic understanding of what drove him to it. And Fiorle had his own ideas about why Jareth couldn't bear to live with his family, and it had nothing to do with boredom or distrust.

"Ever the enigma," he sighed, shaking his head and rising.

The quick stroll through the corridors gave him ample time to compose his own saddened reflections before he passed the library. The door stood open and from half a corridor away he could hear the angry voices, neither shouting, both furious in their tight control.

"You have no right to treat him like this. He gives up everything for you." Arradine? What was wrong this time? Clearly it wasn't any of his business. Fiorle liked his internal organs inside his body. The Goblin King would eviscerate him for eavesdropping.

"You know nothing of the matter." Well, certainly no other person used that library. Toby never entered it. Only Jareth ever went there. "Stop arguing a point to a conversation you cannot be a part of."

"Well, stop speaking in riddles. If you want me to shut up, then say so."

"Enough, Arradine! Leave me in peace, or I will not control my temper."

An audible bark of laughter and then Arradine came storming out, her back ramrod straight and her eyes flashing fire. Fiorle hurriedly got out of her way. The girl would be coming into her magic around this time and with a powerful bloodline like hers, there was no knowing what she would do in an uncontrolled rage. The Goblin King seemed to throw something because there was a muffled oath and the sound of something clattering against the wall and possibly breaking.

Fiorle made to leave.

"Fiorle!"

He stopped.

The Goblin King stood in the doorway and glared at him, hands on his hips and his mouth compressed to a thin line. The fae sighed and turned around. Was no one in this Castle in any kind of a good mood? He bowed respectfully, his hand over his heart. "Your Majesty?" he asked, all innocent concern.

"Paying you to keep an eye on my consort does not include listening to my private conversations," Jareth snapped, one crystal already in his hand and another forming, "I do not take kindly to insufferable busybodies."

"With due respect, Your Majesty, I came down the corridor lost in thought," Fiorle excused hurriedly, "The voices were unfamiliar and I never heard the words until I was almost at the door. I was just leaving when the Princess exited the room. It was not intentional, Sire."

The crystal hovered dangerously and then vanished. "If it happens again, Fiorle, I will throw you into the deepest oubliette," Jareth promised quietly, "Get out of here." He himself turned and swanned back into his library, banging the door shut behind him.

Fiorle took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and took off, happy enough to leave in one peace. With such a dark cloud hanging over the Castle, he was not about to stay there to be yelled at. Which was all very well, but his footsteps to the entrance to the safe path of the Labyrinth only took him passed a particular stable where a particular Prince was brushing down the horses with jerky hands and a palpable air of misery.

Fiorle sighed. Aidan hadn't seen him and he could still disappear down that path without Aidan even noticing he was there. "Prince Aidan?" he called, walking with barely dragging heels to the stable, "What is wrong?"

"Stop calling me Prince, Fiorle," Aidan snapped, throwing the brush away in a fine temper and startling the horse.

The fairy took the halter and spoke a few soothing words in the animal's ear, quietening him enough to look back to Aidan. Unfortunately, one could not do the same to calm a fifteen-year-old immortal. "Forgive me, Aidan. It was meant as a friendly jest. Is there something the matter?"

"Nothing that you can help with."

"Ah. I think you would prefer to be left alone. Excuse me." He was five paces to the path when Aidan stopped him, a hand on his shoulder and an apology in his blue eyes. The golden hair was cut short for the child, growing out only now as he approached the first stage of adulthood, and it feathered around his neck and temples, adding a softness to his sharp-featured face.

"I apologize," Aidan sighed, "I did not mean to snarl."

'You have no right to treat him like this...' "Was it an argument with your father, Aidan?"

The hand was instantly withdrawn. "I don't want to speak of it."

"Very well. Let us speak of other things. What do you plan to wish for this year? Ereditha mentioned dancing girls."

"Fiorle, you know I have no interest in girls, do you not?" Aidan was impatient, growling like Toby did in a temper, "My parents will not understand for all that they themselves are... but you know me. And even were I to like girls, I would hardly like one paid to give me pleasure. There's no fun in that!"

"Ever your father's son," Fiorle said thoughtlessly.

Whatever last traces of control Aidan had been keeping on himself vanished with those words, leaving the fifteen-year-old to bite his hand as the tears came, to stop himself from crying aloud. He turned away in frustrated shame, upset with the world at that particular moment and not liking his own lack of control very much. Fiorle turned considerately away and waited.

"Gods above, I wish I had never been born," Aidan gulped, swiping angrily at his wet eyes, "I hate everything in this world."

"That is not true. You love horses and grangers and your sisters," Fiorle reminded him, "And no matter your feelings right now, you know you do love your parents."

A low rumble that sounded very like a growl was the first reaction to that. And then the startling announcement- "My father cannot bear to look at me. Why should I love him? If he could birth me and still hate me, then why should I feel any care to him at all?"

"He does not hate you."

"Does not?" Worldly blue eyes looked to the awkward fairy. "Or cannot? It seems he cannot hate me because he is, after all, the one who birthed me. But do all 'mothers' love their children? No. And my father certainly hates me."

"Aidan, it was a disagreement," Fiorle soothed, reaching out to ease the knots out of one tense shoulder, "There will be peace tomorrow if you could let go of your anger. All this passion will pass in a few days and soon you will not even remember why you were so upset."

Aidan shrugged off the hand and bent to pick up the brush again. "Father is no longer going to teach me himself. I'm going to have a tutor. He says that he has no time, but that's all lies. It has to be. Arradine still has lessons with him and Ereditha too. He will continue working with them every morning but not with me? What else am I to think but that he doesn't want to see me?"

Fiorle listened to this in growing horror. It was worse than he had expected! Was the Goblin King so far gone? It was a wonder that he could face this fear and not... that was where his brain stopped working. Because there was no wonder. It accounted for so many unexplained things, so many reported incidents. The disjointed conversations, the cold withdrawal, the exhaustion, the inability to breath the air at times, even the gloved hands- all of them pointed to something Fiorle had seen once before and had prayed to never see again.

"Aidan, listen to me," he said suddenly, his voice as sharp as the crack of a whip, "This anger at some trifle is complete nonsense. You should be ashamed of yourself! After fifteen years, you surely do not need your father to coddle you to know he cares for you. Because he does care, very much. More so than any of you even know."

Fiorle himself was now in a fine temper and there was just one person that he needed to see. He wasn't sure where Lorelei was, but he was in luck- she was attending some goblin child in the City.

Having finished her medicating and setting of a broken arm, Lorelei found herself unceremoniously dragged away out of the city and into the forests housing the graves of the goblin kings.

"Do you know about the King's condition?"

Lorelei's eyes widened and then narrowed, staring speculatively at the face of the fairy that knelt before her, determined and pale. "I knows of no condition," she said warily, "Which one does you have in mind?"

"Stop evading the question, Lorelei. How far gone is he? Aidan turned thirteen three years ago. He has spent three years with this illness and told no one? Has he lost his mind so soon?"

Lorelei gave up. "Not three," she sighed tiredly, "Ten. He were beginning it when I first took care of Lord Toby. It ain't going to take long now."

"TEN YEARS?" The incredulous cry rang through the empty trees with enough force to startle Lorelei herself. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN- TEN YEARS?"

"What do it sound like," the healer growled, poking him in the chest with her thick finger, "The silly goat won't do nothing I tell him and now he's dying. There ain't anything I can do about it except give him what he wants."

"But the cure?"

"Won't take it. I tolds him to be telling Lord Toby, but no! He hads himself another attack when I tried. So I left him be. There ain't nothing I can do, I tell you."

Fiorle growled and kicked at a stone with his boot, sending it clattering away into a hard tree root as he threw himself down on the ground and covered his face with his hands for a few minutes. A few deep breathes later and he felt a nudge against his knee. He looked up and Lorelei silently handed him a vial of some kind of potion.

"Drink," she ordered, "I'm notgoing to take two silly goats dying on me. Why do this bother you so?"

He accepted the vial and drank, letting the potion sooth his nerves and spread gentle calmness through his veins before answering- "A close friend died this same way. Before I left the Fairy Kingdom to explore the world. He was a soldier in the war twice removed from the last one. He died praying he wouldn't have to fight."

Lorelei shook her head grimly and patted his knee with her gnarled hand. She didn't like this business either. There was rarely a cure for it and even if there was, the very nature of the illness meant that few would take it. The Goblin King was in the same predicament. He had his cure within easy reach but would not take it, refusing to do anything besides swallow those vile potions she made to his direction, overdosing heavily on wine and black magic to try to keep himself alive.

Oh, it had been a long ten years!

"Now, you sits right there and tells me," she instructed, sitting down on the nearest tree root with a prim despair over her dirtied clothes, "How did you find out?"

Aidan looked bitterly amused. "Easy," he supplied, waving a hand at her, "He cannot bear to be near Aidan without his distress becoming apparent. For anyone who knows his history, the prospect of illness is not that surprising. And there can be no doubt that he is ill?"

Lorelei's face was sad as she stared down at her clasped hands. "He ain't never going to see Arradine turn twenty-five," she agreed.