Author's Note: Things are working out. Aidan never deserved those memories and Jareth never should have forgotten that his pain affected those around him as well. Fortunately, I think people will like this chapter; it's less angst-y, and happy in a soothing way.

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The ball was, in short, splendid.

Nobles and important persons from every race and House in the Known Underground were present to wish the recovering Goblin King long life and good health. Toby thought it was all a bit premature, but since only five percent of those dying from fear ever recovered, he was prepared to blaze it across the sky in fire. Whatever Jareth had said to Aidan that day, Aidan had obviously said something right back. The Goblin King had made a conscious effort after that to try to get better. And it was working.

The flap of enormous wings shook the room slightly and those in attendance quivered with shock. A lady screamed and cowered back in her seat and her companion fainted.

Jareth rolled his eyes and motioned for calm. "This is not an invasion," he called bluntly, "The Draconites were invited by my orders."

People stopped fainting and began staring at the door and murmuring behind their hands. The doors were open, welcoming, and Jareth had dispensed with the irritating notion of being announced. He reasoned that if he didn't know the person entering, then the person wasn't important enough. He didn't expect the draconites just yet. They had asked to be taken to a room where they could adopt appropriate dress for the formal occasion. He didn't expect Zaraith for another hour.

But the three figures entering the door were expected, and were late. The Goblin King signalled to his bond mate to come to his side and extricated himself from conversation to greet his new guests.

Toby took his arm in concern, noticing the slight sigh of tiredness. It would be a long night for his husband and he did wish that Jareth hadn't agreed to this when he was still so weak.

"Your Majesty," Jareth greeted politely, "Welcome."

"Thank you, Jareth," Armand answered, offering an innocently sunny smile in return, "I left the, uh, good-will gifts below with your guards."

Jareth waved the mention of his captives away with an imperious hand. "Forget your duties for the night," he invited, "Tonight is for celebration. Though I don't presume you rejoice as much as all that."

Blue-flecked green eyes opened wide in surprised innocence. "Not rejoice at your recovery? Your Majesty, I protest at such an insult. I was almost prostrated at the news of your battle with grim death."

Toby raised an eyebrow at the tall young fae, finding mockery in the words. Jareth just smirked. "Hmmm… I suppose I should be grateful for that. Permit me to introduce you to my consort. Armand; Toby Williams. Toby; Amarild's little brother."

A faint shadow swept over the handsome face looking down at him as the words spun briskly through the air with a cold snap.

The mortal bowed slightly. Ignoring the rather acid remark, Toby murmured, "It is a pleasure, Your Majesty. It is to be hoped that we can put aside our differences for this evening. It was kind of you to join us."

Armand relaxed a little and shockingly enough held out his hand to offer a firm handshake. "I believe this is the proper Aboveground greeting," he said peaceably, "Personally I hate bowing to people. I always wonder if I'm not offering my neck to a hidden sword!"

Toby laughed and shook hands. "I never thought of it that way. But when you think about how crowded it can get in places like this, a knife in the ribs won't be too hard to manage either, will it?"

They moved from the entrance, unaware that two figures on the other side of the ballroom were watching them in sudden interest. Well, perhaps it was one figure with his companion; for, at the sight of the current King of the Fairies, Aidan had stopped slouching against the wall and stood stock still in shock. Arradine, standing next to him, merely looked amused.

"See something you like, little brother?" she teased.

"He… but… who…"

"Oh, Aidan!" she laughed, unfurling her fan and fluttering it charmingly, "Do close your mouth and look elsewhere! You're staring too hard."

"He's beautiful…"

"He's a fairy!"

Aidan nodded soundlessly and actually shifted position so that he could get a better look. All he could see, really, was the light of the glowing candles brilliantly polish the crimson-streaked chestnut hair and add subtle richness to the long white coat.

The Princess snapped her fan shut and dropped the humour. It was all very well for Aidan to have his first serious case of crush-at-first-sight, but he certainly did fall into trouble far too easily. The son of the Goblin King could not, after all, just fall head over heels for the King of the Fairies! Never mind that the fae in question was stunning.

"Aidan, you do know who that is, do you not?"

Movement from the corner of her eyes distracted her momentarily and she turned swiftly with a cautious expression, only to sigh in relief at the sight of her cousin. "Harvey. Harvey, you have to help me; Aidan's got a crush."

The hazel eyes went wide. "No! Where? Do we know him?"

"Know him? He's busy staring at that male there!" She nodded discreetly to where the Fae King and his retinue were gathered, all dressed in white and standing aloof.

Harvey squinted a little and clicked his tongue when the fat dwarf in his line of sight wouldn't move but kept blocking the view. Finally, finally, the gold-coated personage moved and Harvey was treated to his first sight of his cousin's taste in men. He whistled in shock and then dropped his jaw when Armand unknowingly turned his face to the light. "Gawd," he gawked.

Arradine groaned in exasperation and covered her eyes. "You cannot be serious. The Fae Effect, I suppose." Moving quickly, she hit the dark-haired youth on the head with the carved handle of her fan and huffed at him. "Stop staring. One of you is bad enough. Aidan, would you please just swallow and pick your jaw up from the floor?"

Aidan stayed silent. Harvey looked from his cousin to the fae and continued to absently rub the substantial bruise on his head. "You know," the mortal commented, "In my world, when you have a crush on someone, you usually go talk to them."

"Talk to whom?" Sarah called out gaily, sneaking up on them with a wicked grin and a glass of wine in her hand. Both Harvey and Arradine jerked, but Aidan continued to stare with glassy eyes somewhere in the direction of the eastern side of the room. "What's with the fish?" she demanded, gesturing to her nephew.

Arradine latched thankfully onto her aunt's shoulder. "Sarah, you have got to help me! Father will kill him."

"Kill who?"

"The King of the Fairies!"

Sarah looked bewildered. "But why?" she protested, "I thought the two kingdoms were at peace. Did any villages get burnt again? Is something wrong?"

"Worse," Arradine said tragically, "Aidan's got a crush on him."

Sarah looked from the helpless girl to the completely oblivious boy and then burst out laughing so hard Harvey had to take the glass from her and keep her upright so that she wouldn't fall and tear her dress. "Oh… poor dear," she finally choked, "Poor Aidan!" And then she went off into another fit of hysterics.

Toby heard the sudden shout of laughter and jumped, whirling around to see who had slipped on which dropped piece of what, only to find his sister leaning weakly against the wall and giggling so hard she was doubled over.

"Toby? Is there something wrong?" Maegorod asked, nodding to the spectacle.

Only his family, the mortal mourned silently. "No, Maegorod. That's my sister. I'll, uh, introduce you when she's sobered down a bit. God, I should have warned her about the wines!"

Jareth appeared at his elbow, looking half amused and half annoyed. "Toby, why exactly is Sarah in a fit of hysterics?" His bond mate could only shrug and introduce Maegorod to Jareth in the interests of politeness.

Aidan heard that laughter. Somewhere in his brain it registered that Sarah was laughing at him. It didn't help that Armand had heard it too and turned to see who it was, only to catch the young Prince staring straight into his eyes. So Aidan hurriedly turned around to gaze blankly at Sarah.

Arradine just threw up her hands and walked away.

Which is when it happened.

A silent whisper ran around the room and in a wave of consciousness people turned from their conversations to the arched entranceway, where three more figures were illuminated in the soft golden light. The woman and man on the left and right turned their orange and purple eyes slowly around the room, a hand on each of the middle figure's shoulders as if to pull him to safety at the first hint of trouble. The figure in the middle searched the crowd for another reason entirely.

Jareth smirked quietly to himself. Even the prospect of his recovery was not quite ingenious enough to beat the appearance of the Draconite Lord in the Castle at the centre of the Labyrinth. And certainly not when it was his recovery that the Draconite Lord was supposedly there to celebrate.

He pushed through the crowd to stand before the three, offering a short bow for courtesy's sake. "Welcome, my Lord; Hergoh. I am honoured with your presence. And your's, of course, Varlan."

Purple eyes narrowed at him.

Zaraith stifled a smile and interjected before the usual trading of insults began. "It was kind of you to include us in the invitation, Your Majesty. We are- all three- honoured to congratulate you on your recent recovery."

Toby came up to take Jareth's arm, smiling with friendly delight to see three more people he knew. "I think you've made quite an entrance," he remarked, looking over his shoulder, "Jareth, you're upstaged."

Varlan contented himself with a chuckle that could have been polite laughter or could have been a delighted snigger.

"I cede my place willingly," Jareth returned, gesturing the three into the room, in too good a humour to bother overmuch with insults. The sight of his blushing firstborn brought a brief niggling worry to his mind. Surely a girl's eyes never sparkled that much at the sight of someone she was indifferent to? "My Lord, I believe you know my daughter- Arradine."

Zaraith turned his green eyes to the slender figure that dropped a graceful curtsey to him. He smelt the air delicately and sifted through the scents for the matching smell to that soft pink aura. And there it was- the smell of crisp snow on sleeping earth. "Your Highness," he smiled, bowing low to her, "You are beautiful tonight."

Arradine muttered something that she could not, for the life of her, ever remember afterwards. Her blush deepened when she noticed that everyone in the room was staring at her and wondering at her lack of composure. The fact that her dad was barely keeping a grin from his face made her glare at him as Zaraith took her hand and gently kissed the back in old-fashioned courtesy.

Jareth blinked in no little worry between the two and then frowned. He wasn't quite sure that he liked this state of affairs. Though he grudgingly admitted that his daughter had taken extra pains to look her best and was currently too starry eyed to be excited over a ball with a lot of boring people. He'd seen enough of women to know they only looked like that at the person they were in love with. He glared at the back of Zaraith's cream robe.

Toby caught that glare and felt the laughter bubble up harder in his throat. He caught Sarah's eye and looked to the velvet-draped ceilings in a fleeting gesture of frustration. The older woman nodded back and smiled widely, nodding to Aidan's sneaking glances back at Armand. Toby shook his head at her and turned back to pay attention to the charming little tableau that Jareth was now fuming at.

"It has been a long time since I was here," Zaraith was commenting, "And as I recall, the Goblin Castle made the best wines in the Underground."

Varlan sniffed again delicately. It was not at all secret that the little Princess was experiencing a rather exaggerated delight in his Lord's presence; her body temperature was rising with the emotion and he was certain that she shone with a somewhat brighter glow. Not to mention the Goblin King was radiating annoyance beside him. "I will confess that the journey here was long," he sighed innocently, "Wine would be much appreciated."

Jareth opened his mouth to answer that when Toby cut in smoothly- "Of course. Arradine will see to your needs. Jareth, I'm sorry to be rude, but I require you to come with me."

The Goblin King was seething and Toby tried not to laugh as he saw that black look. Tapping the blue coated shoulder, he drew Jareth's attention away from Zaraith to more pressing matters. "Love, I think we have a problem."

Mismatched eyes fixed instantly on him with concern. A hand clasped his arm and the other took a light hold of his waist. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Toby grinned, "But I think our kids are all grown up."

His husband looked confused so he sent a pointed glance over Jareth's shoulder to where Aidan was still sneaking looks at Armand while holding a conversation with a goblin friend. "Our son seems to have developed an interest in someone else."

The first look on Jareth's face was fear, and then relief, and then curiosity. He made to turn but Toby quickly put a hand to his face and shook his head.

"I wouldn't advise it. Aidan's already being obvious enough without us showing the whole world we see it too. Uh, just to let you know- you won't like it."

"I won't?" Jareth asked.

Toby shook his head. "No." The hand tightened on his waist and he almost purred. "Okay, okay, I'll tell you. Geez! What's with the Spanish Inquisition? If you must know, he's taken a shine to a fairy."

Jareth considered that thought. "Is that all? There is nothing wrong with that. Fairies are beautiful creatures. And Lady Carif is a beautiful female. She is married, but I suppose that will make no difference for a few dances."

Toby bit his lower lip and shook his head. "Actually, it's not Lady Carif. It's a male. I, uh, haven't gotten around to telling you that I suspect Aidan's gay, have I?"

"WHAT?"

Four people in the near vicinity threw startled glances at the pair by the wall. Jareth was practically quivering. Toby took his hand and offered an apologetic glance to those who looked disapprovingly at them for such a public display. Drawing him away to the concealed balcony and shutting the door firmly behind them.

"Jareth, stop worrying. What's so wrong if Aidan is gay?"

"But he… he's… he's too young!"

Toby giggled at that comical combination of worry and desperation. "He's sixteen, Jareth. He turned sixteen two weeks ago. Remember? We gave him a crystal and he asked to keep it for a private moment? We're two men; why can't Aidan like men too?"

"Because… because he's supposed to like women!" Very real fear was encroaching into that breathless voice and Toby heard the danger signals.

"It's all right, love, breathe. Look, just because he likes men, doesn't mean he's going to behave stupidly because of it. This won't effect what you are to him. You are his father and nothing else; not to him. Okay?"

A gloved hand found the mortal's shoulder as Jareth nodded and took a deep breath, calming himself down by the light of the full moon. "Very well. You are right; I'm behaving very badly."

"No, you're behaving like the irrational creature I know and love."

Jareth offered a weak smirk- "You say that so often," he commented.

Toby growled playfully and looped his arms around his husband's neck. They didn't sleep together- not really- and neither of them were ready to restart that physical connection that usually swept them off their feets into an emotional desire that was bigger that themselves. But touching was allowed, and he loved to be held close, to feel strong arms wrap around him with the silent promise of holding him safe. And he loved to push that blasted medallion aside and listen to the soft heartbeats that sounded like the slow turning of the earth itself.

"Dad? Father, are you alright?"

Toby lifted his head and lowered his arms, sighing as he turned to face Aidan. "Everything is fine. What are you doing out here?"

"Intruding, or so it seems." The tone was light and teasing- no different than usual- but there was a breathless excitement to that deepened voice, a kind of thrilled exuberance.

Jareth was staring at the boy with hooded eyes, trying to see past that god-awful starry glint to whether this was merely infatuation or something deeper. He didn't believe it was deeper, but one never knew. After all, he had bonded with an infant. Bond! "Aidan, whatever you do tonight," he said clearly, "Promise me you will not bond with anyone."

Aidan looked surprised, then cautious, then a little worried, and then back to surprised. He nodded silently, and then stiffened when his parents looked over his shoulder with a shocked stare. He turned… and gulped.

"Is there something wrong?" Armand asked casually, "Some way in which I can be of assistance perhaps?"

"No," Toby answered quickly, since neither Aidan nor Jareth seemed quite ready to speak. Aidan looked more like a lamb confronting a starving wolf and Toby was certain that if the immortal opened his mouth right then he would make bleating noises. "Uh, excuse us. Jareth, we have to go back inside."

Jareth glowered at Armand's innocent look of enquiry. "Why did you come out?" he asked bluntly.

"Pardon me, Your Majesty, but you are not yet fully recovered," Armand said reasonably, "I thought perhaps you felt unwell. In which case, I was prepared to offer my help in any way possible. My suspicions were aroused when Prince Aidan followed you out."

If the Goblin King expected his son to swoon in ecstasy at hearing his name mentioned by someone he felt so attracted to, he was thankful to be proved wrong. A brief glow of delight flickered in the knowing blue eyes, but Aidan held himself well, gathering his natural pride and composure back to cloak his feelings.

'Come, Toby. We're no longer required,' the half-goblin muttered mentally, 'I refuse to have my entire evening spoilt by these two hormone soaked children.'

'Excuse me? Armand is forty-three! He's older than I am! If he's a child what am I?' Toby sent back, looking up at him with a mock pout.

Jareth smiled down at him and flicked his finger against Toby's cheek in a careless caress; not knowing the joy it would bring to his bond mate. 'An elf, naturally,' he put forward, 'Or my child. My beloved mortal child.'

Toby gladly accepted that. Maybe there were all sorts of psychological issues in that notion that his world would frown on, but he actually liked the thought of being a child-lover for his husband. It took Jareth away from the fear and in return guaranteed him the kind of dominant, possessive husband he craved.

The two walked back inside without even a glance for their silent audience, too engrossed in their own private conversation to notice. Aidan stared after them and then glanced at Armand. "They communicate mentally sometimes," he explained, tapping a finger to his left temple, "They do not mean to be rude, Your Majesty."

"Oh, I took no offence from it, Your Highness. It has proved my point at any rate."

"Which is?"

"That formal bindings are best carried out between two people already bonded to each other." Armand conjured up a shimmer of dust that sifted into a comfortable couch. He sat at one end and stared out to the sky. "The sky is magnificent from here."

Aidan took a step closer. "Yes, it is." He waited a few minutes as the breeze ruffled playfully at his austerely tied hair. He hated it waving around his face, though he was in no doubt that the style certainly suited his companion's delicate beauty. Armand would not be much taller than him, and at the current moment he seemed to be almost a lost figure as he sat and traced the faint outlines of clouds in the starless sky with his bluey-green eyes. "If you listen carefully, you can hear the songs from the Goblin City as they celebrate too," he offered, walking to the railing, "And usually one can scent the flowers from the garden below on the air, but in winter it's naturally impossible."

Green eyes looked to him with a friendly humour. "Naturally."

Aidan smiled ruefully and shrugged, leaning casually on the railing, not aware that he made a pretty picture when highlighted by the moon. Armand was aware of it, and he enjoyed it in an objective kind of way. It never occurred to him to think of the child in that light because clearly the Goblin King would rip him to pieces for even harbouring such a notion. It was unthinkable! There had never been fae royalty binding with goblin royalty. Both Houses would have thought it anathema, now even more so than a century ago.

"This garden," the fae continued, "Would it contain the legendary flower bearing the name of your father?"

Aidan turned around and smiled. "Yes, it does, actually. Two different plants. The first is the actual plant. The second was planted by my grandmother when the first one looked to be diseased. It wasn't really, but she decided she wanted two plants anyway."

"The Lady Frielda was a very determined woman. And stubborn."

Aidan's jaw tightened slightly. His father had told him about his past, had confessed his relationship with his father and explained how the situation had come about. Aidan had been disgusted, only to find that his father feared he would somehow blame him for it. Agreeing not to judge anyone for the past was a hard promise to keep; Aidan secretly blamed his grandmother. Had she returned as asked, his father would have been spared that torment.

"The topic of conversation displeases you? Very well, let us change the subject. I observed your mortal family inside. Have you been Aboveground?"

"No, never," Aidan confessed, "I want to. But my father has always refused to send us. Perhaps one day."

"It is a wondrous place," Armand reassured, voice turning dreamy as he thought back to his own time there, "I was sent Aboveground to spend my days, you know. I was the youngest of seven children and it was thought that I would never be required for the Kingdom." His own eyes hardened somewhat. "Unfortunately a spate of unfortunate accidents befell my family. Not least of which included my sister's death from the ramparts of this Castle. No, do not say anything about it; it is ancient history and what needed to be done was done."

Aidan shut his lips over the nearly escaped apology, glad that he had been stopped from speaking it because it was not his place to apologize. Amarild had brought her end on herself; he knew that and Armand knew that. He was only sorry for the pain it brought to the fascinating creature sitting on the couch.

The Fae King looked up and caught that sympathetic look in blue eyes. Blue eyes ringed with lashes so pale they were almost invisible… sharp cheekbones in an expressive little face… a warm, wide mouth with delicately drawn lips… a strong jaw and a slender nose that defied any to challenge the youth… Aidan was a picture. With his slender, almost feminine grace and his long fingered hands, he was a picture. From the set of his simple midnight blue jacket to the heels on his grey boots, from the pearl pinning the flow of lace at his throat to the diamond studded clip in his golden hair, from the slender shoulders to the tiny waist that Armand was certain he could span with his two hands if he so chose, the immortal youth was a picture. And Armand liked pictures. But Armand especially liked pictures that intrigued him, and the knowing, wary look in those blue eyes intrigued him.

"Sit," the King of the Fairies ordered, "Perhaps we can talk as friends for a time?"

Aidan filtered the request in his mind. There was no sexual advance in it. Had he hoped for one? He was actually surprised to find that he hadn't; he hadn't wanted sex with his gorgeous creature opposite him in white and mauve because he hadn't honestly thought beyond talking to him. And Armand had been Aboveground, where the stars shone and people played electric guitars…

Aidan took a seat and nodded to his companion in a friendly fashion. "You were saying?"