Author's Note: We find out what the illness is. For those of you who don'tremember what the illness is, look back to the 'Bond of…' fic, to the 'Facts and Figures' chapter. Jareth mentions the illness there.

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"You have got to be joking," Toby breathed, staring upward.

Unfortunately, no matter how vehemently he told himself that it wasn't true, the dragon continued to stand there and glower down at them with curious forest green eyes. The night seemed too bright for thejet-blackscales and long narrow snout. Long wings dropped casually to sweep the floor as the proud creature walked towards them, elegant claws biting into the stony dirt.

Jareth sighed and got to his feet. "Zaraith," he greeted, nodding his head curtly, "My apologies for intruding on your Kingdom in this manner."

The dragon didn't seem inclined to say anything beyond snorting a lot of warm smoke at them. Toby took another step back and almost conjured up a crystal, but stopped himself just in time. Jareth was right- they were trespassing. "We're looking for a young girl, my Lord," he put in politely, "We had word that she was coming here."

The dragon tilted its head as if about to smile at them and then its leathery wings snapped out to full height and folded down to its back. The dragon disappeared with it and a man stood in its place, a smile on his lips and a long black robe taking the place of his scales. "Had word? It is hardly wise to trust rumour."

Jareth stiffened his spine and took a firm hold of his temper. He'd met Zaraith once before. The meeting was not a pleasant one to remember, in light of his current need for secrecy. "I do not trust rumour," he corrected shortly, "She left a note."

Those bizarre eyes glimmered at them and Toby shivered. He'd grown used to the unnatural appearance of eyes in the Underground; but eyes like this? He didn't like them. There was no pupil and no iris. The entire eye was coloured a deep forest green. There was no way to know what Zaraith could see and what he was thinking. These eyes were terrifying.

Zaraith delicately sniffed the air and smiled again, his thin nostrils easily picking up the scent of fear and apprehension. The dark haze of draconite sight was not much help when his prey was standing still, but he could see through the foremost shadowy figure to the brightness of Jareth's silver aura to know who stood before him. "It is a pleasure to meet with you again, King of the Goblins. It has been a long time since the past."

For one wild moment Jareth thought the Draconite Lord would actually reference where and why they had met the last time, but then the male was looking away from him to Toby, slightly shifting his head for a better gaze. Jareth half turned too, holding out a compulsive hand to his bond mate.

"May I present my consort?" he said formally, "I am sure you heard the news."

Zaraith actually looked surprised. "This is your new consort? I had heard you bound yourself to a mortal, but a male? This is surprising news indeed, Your Majesty."

Gloved fingers gripped tighter and Toby stared wonderingly down at his hand, wondering at the tension. "Pleased to meet you," he murmured, looking up to see Zaraith still examining him from head to foot with his eyes.

The Lord of the Draconites nodded, grave and a little terrible to look at. He stood taller than the both of them and he was bulkier. Even as a human he was a formidable person. "The King of the Goblins is never welcome in my realm," he began, turning back to Jareth, "What is it you want?"

"The girl."

"Visitors to my Kingdom are none of your concern. On what grounds do you seek this girl?"

The million-dollar question. The half-goblin hesitated, not certain that he could trust Zaraith. In truth, the draconites were far more merciful to their captives than either goblins or fairies, and their code of honour was legendary even amongst the elves and dwarves. Arradine would not be harmed if she had gone to the draconites claiming to seek sanctuary or knowledge. But as the heir to the Goblin Throne… "She is my daughter."

"Yes, I was told that. She freely admits it. But she seeks sanctuary; I cannot force her to leave."

"She's my daughter," Toby protested, "And she's run away on a misunderstanding! We want her back."

"I do not object to you taking her back," Zaraith owned, "But she has thrown herself on my mercy and the laws of my Kingdom state that I must be satisfied that she will find safety with you. And that, Mortal Lord, will only occur if she so wishes it."

Jareth stayed silent, swaying lightly on his feet. He was beginning to feel light-headed and nauseous- a common enough occurrence when he over exerted himself- but now was not the time for him to give out. He squeezed again unthinkingly on the fingers still in his grasp and then let go.

"What will you demand of me to hear my case," he asked clearly, cutting into whatever it was Zaraith was saying with an impatient bite.

"The Princess does not seem inclined to speak with you, Your Majesty. I should, by rights, turn you away. Your consort is welcome, but she did mention that she never wanted to speak with you. She also mentioned harshness towards your offspring. I would have thought you liked children."

"I do," Jareth snapped, "And I especially like my children. The disagreement between Arradine and myself is none of your concern. Rest assured, however, she will see me if you take me to her now."

Zaraith nodded and smiled again. "I did believe so myself," he confessed suddenly, laughing, "Her denouncement of you seemed to come from frustration more than anything else. Very well, then. I will take you to her myself." He held out his hands to the two of them. "You may take us there faster than I can, Your Majesty. And no one will find you in my palace."

Jareth nodded and whisked them all off, guiding them down to land gracefully in the darkness of a mountain. High above them the top opened to the night sky and Toby blinked up in some surprise, wishing there were more lights to see by.

"Vardan! Hergoh! Torches for our guests," Zaraith said quietly.

In an instant torches flared around them and Toby blinked and took a step back. Until a familiar squeal rang out through the gloom and a young girl in grey breeches and a poet shirt pushed her way through the circle of watchful faces to throw herself at him.

Jareth found his right elbow clasped by a strong hand, the draconite called Vardan restraining him. He didn't really mind. He was about to fall down in a dead faint anyway and the support was welcome. Zaraith stood before him and he noticed a fond look slide over the Draconite Lord's face as he watched the reunion between child and parent. Jareth himself wanted to strangle her more than hug her.

"Arra, sweetheart, how are you? Are you alright?"

Jareth was beginning to sway precariously on his feet, And Vardan tightened his hold, drawing him closer to his side to provide silent support. He said nothing about the emotions that wafted from the half-goblin beside him. It wasn't his place to comment.

"I'm sorry, Dad, I didn't mean to worry you," Arra was saying, sniffing a just a little as she hugged her parent.

"Well, you have a funny way of showing it," Toby snapped, holding his daughter at arm's length and glaring at her. Clearly the relief had given way to frustration on his part. "We were frantic! What the hell possessed you to come here?"

"Fiorle said…"

"Fiorle also told you stories about the outlaws and the way they treat little girls like you," the mortal interrupted, "Don't try to give me that! Don't you know what could have happened f Lord Zaraith hadn't found you? There are plenty of people who hate the Goblin King enough to welcome capturing his heir."

"Yes, well, that seems to include everyone in the Underground, doesn't it" burst out before Arradine could control her tongue. She stared defiantly at her father's stony face, still not forgiving him for what she saw as harshness.

But the petulance had the right effect. The Goblin King pulled his arm from Varlan's grasp, anger obliterating the momentary weakness to stride to his daughter and stare warningly down into her eyes. "I think you have provided these good people with enough drama," he said quietly, "If Lord Zaraith is agreeable, I suggest you go to your room and stay there. I will handle this mess since you obviously have no inclination to."

Zaraith repressed an interjection as he hear the faint grinding of teeth at the bland, dangerous voice. Tales abounded of the returned Goblin King. He had heard how the Labyrinth followed its Lord's example and had notoriously killed two of its challengers and injured a further three. He had heard about the mistreatment of the slender mortal male who was currently staying well away from the argument. But the creeping rumours had said nothing about the impending death by fear of that Goblin King. "I agree, Your Majesty. The Princess has had a long day and I believe she would be the better for sleep."

"No, I won't!"

Toby rolled his eyes heavenward. "Arradine," he sighed, "Go to bed!"

Arradine glared mutinously from her parents to her protector, tempted to remind them that she was no longer of an age to be ordered to bed. She noticed the smile touching the corners of Zaraith's soft mouth and gave up. Her father would simply manipulate her into doing it anyway and Zaraith, though amused, was not planning to take her side in this. "Very well," she said stiffly, "I bid everyone good night."

Toby shook his head ruefully as his daughter's straight back made for the winding stairs that led to the many levels of rooms. He looked to Jareth and raised an eyebrow. His husband nodded and he bowed briefly to Zaraith. "Forgive me, my Lord, I think my errant daughter needs a lecture."

Zaraith waited both disappeared into Arradine's suit. He could plainly hear the soft argument that the two indulged in- Toby reminding her that she was only sixteen and Arradine pointing out that he himself had married at seventeen and at least she wasn't marrying anyone just like that. He motioned to his people: "Return to your activities. There is no need for you here."

They bowed and left, eyes glowing curious colours in the dank darkness, melting away with soundless ease, even their robes not rustling as they moved over the ground.

"Come, Goblin King," the Draconite Lord commanded quietly, "This mess may be sorted in the morning. For now, I believe you need to rest."

The Goblin King, for his part, was going to refuse when he noticed the imperial note in the soft voice. That and the strong jaw did not belong to anyone who took opposition very well. He shrugged and gestured that he would follow.

They proceeded to make their way towards a staircase on the other side of the well-like mountain palace. It was a fascinating place, all things considered, and if the situation had not been so edgy, he would have appreciated the architecture and sculpture. The ground floor was enormous, big enough for an army of dragons to stand easily, the marble floors polished and worn with age to the same smoothness as the surface of a lake on the stillest summer's day. And right around the sleek walls, decorated arches led to rooms that could only be guessed at. The doors themselves were simple structures, but each were fitted with iron handles of a dragon's head. All were connected by the staircases and by stone balconies.

Jareth found his legs were not as steady as he would like, and the distances kept fluctuating before his eyes. It was another side effect of the illness. Disorientation and hallucination were wonders he was only just beginning, unfortunately. Soon they would be a way of life and wasn't he just looking forward to that! The thought made him cranky.

"What ransom will you ask of me?" he asked abruptly.

"No ransom for tonight. Tomorrow is another day," was all the reply he got.

Neither said anything more until Zaraith led them both into a room on the same level as Arradine's but on the other side of the centre. He didn't think either the Goblin King or his mate would want to be disturbed that night. And certainly the half-goblin needed quiet and rest.

He led the way into the simple bed chamber and lit the torches in their wall brackets, pointing his guest unceremoniously to the bed.

Jareth acquired a look of hostile suspicion. He wasn't being obvious, was he? Were draconites that perceptive? No one else knew; no one else could know. Certainly not this creature who was as old as the Underground itself because the draconites were true immortals who never faced death. Zaraith had seen too much of him, knew too much to guess his secret now…

"I advise you to rest, Goblin King," Zaraith murmured, "Dying of fear is never a pleasant ordeal to endure."