Author's Note: Updates will go slower for a while. I have a job now, so that means I get less time to write and more money to do other things... yeah! I actually have a life now!!! I think I might go watch 'Labyrinth'.
-----------------------------------------------
So it progressed. Every day Jareth presented his case to a Draconite Lord that simply diffused his every request to something else. Arradine made no attempt to persuade her protector either; she was excited about this new culture and new place. Neither of her parents could grudge her that.
Every day had something new to be discovered. Every day offered some new adventure. Toby even found himself enjoying the acerbic remarks dropped occasionally by Varlan, Zaraith's male second-in-command. He fumed for the delay, but couldn't help being fascinated.
And every night he went to Jareth's room and fought tooth and nail for his right to wake up in the Goblin King's bed the next morning. Jareth didn't prevent him. Indeed, he paid no noticeable attention to him! If he were there, the Goblin King ignored him in public and fucked him in private. If he stayed away, that charm of manner was lavished on Hergoh or Arradine or a score of others that were gradually learning to accept the shockingly peculiar little family that had intruded on them.
Inlong moments of silent reflection, Toby told himself that he was being ridiculous, that his sympathy for a love story and that goddamned habit of hope had contrived to render him unable to fight the obvious pull of his bond mate. True, he loved Jareth and in weaker moments he admitted that he did desire him no matter his views on his own sexual orientation, but he was practical. And practically speaking even he could see no future in allowing himself to be used. It had been obvious even without Fiorle's worried plea to be careful.
"Make no excuses on his behalf," the fairy had cautioned, standing with him just seconds before Toby apparated back to the draconites' mountain palacefrom a quick visit back to check on his other two children, "His Majesty is capable of great cruelty."
But with every touch and with every night, resolve simply melted, even more so when his lover was always so gentle and considerate. Not that Jareth had ever been physically abusive- there was never a time when he was hurt beyond what he could endure. All the pain the Goblin King had dealt him was emotional.
So on the night when Zaraith eventually announced his intention to come to a final decision on the morrow, Toby found that nothing had changed. Had he taken the time to think, he would never have gone to Jareth's bed or allowed his lover to take him so gently. Had he had the time to be rational, he would not have been particularly surprised to wake up alone either. Of course, rational thought would only come when he brooded on it in later moments. For those first few moments, he was quite simply upset and depressed.
The bed was empty beside him and he was alone.
The room was still dark as pitch, the torches continuing to burn in their brackets, but that was no consolation. They kept bringing back brief flashes of silver-blue skin and lust- filled eyes. The look on Jareth's face when he'd opened to him was burned into his brain. How could it not be? He spent days and night dreaming about making love to his husband again. He couldn't forget so much as one single moment.
Except that the pleasure didn't feel like it was worth the pain of the end.
"Get up, get dressed and get out," Toby recited dully. It was all he could do. Most of him hurt, and whatever didn't hurt was sore, even the joints of his right hand from the way he had gripped the sheets last night.
He should have remembered! But his damnable ability to find hope in a grain of pity had flared again, hadn't it? He supposed it was from being a... well, a Child of the Sun, or what had he. The books predicted that most of them were very hopeful creatures. Which was when he saw it- the basin of water and a clean cloth set out of the table- a clear statement.
"I hate you," he whispered to no one, picking up the cloth and wetting it.
It was ironic, really- this was the first time since he had met Jareth that hewas actually ashamed of letting the Goblin King touch him. He hated that he had to wash away oil and semen because, naturally, Jareth had had to be gentle, hadn't he. He might have hated it less if there'd been bruises and blood and other signs of a hasty decision made in desperation. But the memory of gentle fingers twisting inside him made him shudder again in self-loathing.
This was really the last straw! The cloth struck the wall, leaving a long wet streak. Magicking his clothes on and exiting the room, biting his lip when movement felt uncomfortable.
"Dad!"
"Arradine." He wasn't particularly happy to see her. "Good morning."
"Oh, Dad, I wanted to show you the sunrise," Arradine babbled, almost running down the stairs in her enthusiasm, "But Father said not to wake you."
Toby stopped and looked hopefully at her. "He did?" Arradine knew? Jareth had mentioned something, perhaps? The Goblin King wouldn't have done that unless it meant something! Could he hope again?
"Yes. He said you had had another argument last night and you had stormed off to your room in a temper," Arradine agreed, "He said that all this had been stressful for you. Why didn't you tell me? I- I really am sorry about how much trouble I've caused."
"It's all right, Arra. Just don't do it again." Toby didn't have the heart to be angry. He didn't even care. Well, he would care if Arradine ran away again immediately, but he didn't think she would and so he could concentrate on his own pain.
"Yes, Father said much the same thing," she commented dryly, "Are you hungry? Varlan said that most of the draconites ate in the communal hall so I can take you there if you'd like breakfast. It is close to lunch, though."
For the first time Toby looked at her. "It is? How long have I slept?"
Arradine proudly concentrated and conjured up a clock. "Almost eleven," she pointed out, "And I got my magic two days ago."
"Sweetheart, that's wonderful!" Toby hugged his daughter, hating himself for thinking how much she reminded him of Jareth. "Fantastic; really!"
"I know. Father said he would start my training when we got back to the Castle." Arradine's smile fell. "If I get back to the Castle." At her dad's raised eyebrow, she pointed upwards to the open top of the mountain where two figures stood outlined against the grey sky of a stormy day. "Father's trying to persuade Lord Zaraith to let me leave with you."
"What? But we're your parents! I should think he'd be satisfied with the last few days to know we're not exactly treating you like Cinderella!"
The girl shrugged helplessly. "I do not know why, but they've been there two hours and when I went up to check, Father was getting angry."
Toby looked up to the two figures. His sharp eyes picked up the movements and he could tell which figure was which because Zaraith's green robes were fluttering gently in the breeze, while Jareth's all-black attire almost bended in with the dark mountain. But he didn't want to be up there. He wouldn't possibly be able to face Jareth; there was too much shame and hurt there. "Arradine, I think I am a little hungry. Where is this hall?"
"Come on!"
She led him away, not paying much attention to his depressed mood because he looked tired and she knew how he sometimes got. It was nothing new. Ever since she could remember, he'd occasionally needed to be left alone for a short time when his spirits dropped. Fiorle was the only one who Toby talked to about it, but something that occurred so frequently couldn't be anything to worry about, surely?
The hall was mostly empty, but a few of the guards on early morning duty were taking a late breakfast. They were happy enough to make a space at their scattered tables for the daughter and consort of the Goblin King.
They were a quiet people by nature, talking rarely and content to listen. Each individual had eyes of a unique colour, and the colours ranged from gold to brown to purple to mauve. Apparently the race had been decimated by the war which destroyed the Lawless Kingdom, and Zaraith had seen so many of his people die protecting his palace that he'd been happy enough to agree to keep all the Dragon People in the Lawless Kingdom in exchange for no more killing. The leading culprit had been Jareth's ancestor, making Arradine- as Jareth's heir- feel very uncomfortable at first. But the draconites had lived long enough to know that if friends could be enemies, then certainly the reverse was also true. They were happy enough to judge her on her own merits.
The long day passed with little or no news. Jareth and Zaraith were not seen until the evening meal. But once they appeared, conversation in the private dining room stopped. The two were not precisely smiling, but they seemed happy enough.
"I have made my decision," Zaraith announced unnecessarily, "The Princess Arradine will return with her parents to the Goblin Kingdom."
Toby let out a sigh of relief and leaned back in his chair. Arradine bounced a little, but otherwise took the news with a neatly composed little speech of thanks. For the most part, the draconites didn't much care either way. They had enjoyed the sudden drama of the last few days and now they were ready to return to their normal lives.
As Varlan had put it- "With our longevity, we need never seek our revenge by killing anyone. We simply wait until they die and then attend their funerals."
Zaraith had rebuked him gently for this insult to their guests but didn't treat it as a sentiment out of the ordinary. All three were painfully aware that those who actively disliked them or their positions in life stayed very far away from them. Hergoh, Zaraith's female Second-in-Command had confessed to Arradine the embarrassing opinion that the draconites they had met were only a third of the population.
But for now, Jareth could relax. The intent conversation up on the top of the mountain hadn't actually been about Arradine at all. Zaraith had agreed to let her leave at the start, when Jareth had come upon them watching the sunrise. But the conversation had centred around certain personal attacks on his common sense and famed intellect. Zaraith was of the opinion that he had no more intelligence thana chicken, and Jareth was of the opinion that Zaraith was an idealistic relic of the past that had not the emotional empathy to understand why he did as he did.
The thought of that particular argument still frustrated him. "We leave in the morning," he said brusquely, "Many thanks for your hospitality, Lord Zaraith, but we are anxious to return to our family."
"A pity," Zaraith agreed, looking to Arradine with a smile, "Very well, then. Perhaps a visit someday is in order. I will not have the time to attend to your farewell tomorrow, but Hergoh can handle it in my stead. I say my goodbyes now, and wish you all happiness and good health."
Jareth scowled. "The same for you," he answered politely, sitting down opposite his husband. He sneaked a look at Toby, but the latter was staring diligently at the draconite woman beside him, blinking earnestly into her orange eyes as he seemed to absorb her words with the utmost care. It was not a pleasing sight.
Varlan shot a look from the Goblin King to his consort and then looked to his Lord, affecting the smallest traces of a 'God-help-us-all' look. It was obvious to most draconites there that the two males had been in the grip of fairly strong emotions for most of the trip. And no matter how much soap and water was used, the residue of sex was easily scented in their culture. Both avoided each other all day and then slept together at night? It was peculiar situation and Varlan had been more than vociferous on the absurdity of it all in more private moments.
The Draconite Lord shook his blond head slightly and clapped his hand for silence. Picking up his goblet, he raised it to Arradine. "You may always seek sanctuary amongst us, Your Highness. May you live a fulfilled life with much joy and good fortune."
The toast was duly drunk, Arradine accepted the good wishes charmingly and that was all.
Toby stayed in his own bed that night and Jareth flew out for the night in owl form, roundly chastising himself for even having had the gall to get into such a situation. He was dying. There was nothing he could do about that because there was no real cure. There was a preventative and there was an easing. But cure? He couldn't be cured. Not until he was certain that he wouldn't ruin another innocent being's life.