"Toby, it's not even first light! Come on, darling; come back here."
"Luke, pulling at my shoulder isn't going to get you anywhere," Toby said reasonably, "Go back to sleep."
The fae pushed himself up on one elbow and pouted. "This always happens," he protested, "I barely see you and you're off playing with your sword again. Why do you never stay still?"
"Because, darling, unlike you, I have to keep myself useful," Toby snapped, "Part of my duty is to protect Lady Pandora, Luke. I have to actually know how to fight to do that."
"You do know how to fight. Stupid man! Always trying to make excuses! Very well, then, run away and play. See if I care."
Toby finished lacing his boots and sat still for a while, breathing quietly in the not-quite-dawn air. He was restless, edgy and still angry, and his boyfriend's temper tantrum was not helping matters. Logically speaking, of course, the best course of action was to leave the fae be and go out for his sword practise. It would do neither of them any good to argue in this testy mood.
"I'll come straight back," he offered awkwardly.
"Hmph," was all he received in return.
So Toby shrugged, carefully lifted the sword from its place beneath his bed and made for the door. Down the corridor… etc, he knew the route by heart now. He didn't even have to look for the markings. And he was so busy not looking for the markings that he ran- quite literally- into a very interesting person.
"Watch out!"
He almost took a tumble down the stairs. A beautifully crafted sword clattered to his feet.
"Ms. Jervohl? I am so sorry! I never saw you."
"It's that damned corner," she grumbled, "I told Jareth to put up a mirror on that wall so people could see when they were running into traffic, but do you think he listens? No." She stopped babbling. "Are you sure you are safe?"
"I'm fine, thank you. Er, are you…"
"Fine." She accepted the sword back with a pretty smile. "Thank you. What wakes you so early, Mr. Williams? Is everything all right?"
Toby raised an eyebrow at the female's unusual chatter but philosophically set himself to enjoy the company. "I am usually up by the dawn. There are things to be done for Lady Pandora that keep me busy. I use the early morning for practise." He indicated the weapon at his hip.
Jervohl nodded in understanding. "It is the best time," she remarked, "There is no one around to hinder you and the air is cool and fresh."
"Yes, it is."
They were silent as they reached the ground floor. But Toby stopped a servant and spoke to it in a rapid undertone in Goblin about something that his companion could not quite catch. It did impress her however and she said so, complimenting him on mingling so well with the world of the Underground. It was quite the wrong thing to say. One thing led to another and Toby bit out the few sentences necessary to explain what the Goblin King would ask of him that day.
By the time they reached the pen behind the Castle, Jervohl had guessed most of what Toby hadn't voiced and sympathized with what he had. Jareth wasn't the only one capable of reading people.
"It sounds perfectly horrible," Jervohl said, "And quite within Jareth's scope. In my brother's defence, I will say that he has little choice in the matter. The Duke has been elected by the people to keep the social norms and Jareth cannot overrule him without raising an incredible outcry."
"Which will certainly penetrate his thick skin," Toby murmured blandly.
Green eyes looked incredulously at him and then burst out laughing. The fae shook her blond head with merry humour as she rolled up her sleeves and placed the sheath of her sword carefully out of the way. Toby echoed her movements, reluctantly joining in her mirth since it was really too infectious on such a fine morning.
"You undoubtedly have my brother's measure."
"I hear a lot from people of all walks. You, however, are not mentioned much in your mother's house."
"Ah. That would be because my mother robustly places the blame for my supposed death squarely at my door." Those green eyes were still laughing, though the skin around them showed signs of sleeplessness. "She is a marvellously strong minded woman, the Lady Pandora. Jareth has her stubbornness."
Toby smiled and didn't reply.
But the conversation never really ended. When the grooms took the stabled koerns for their exercise and grooming, the two were still engaged in easy give-and-take, their tongues working quite as fast as their swords.
Unbeknownst to them, a peculiar conversation was occurring in Jareth's study at that very moment, concerning the eighty-four year old female dancing nimbly around the mortal with a clean flow of swift precision.
Gildred was desperate. Enough so that he had come to the study to find the Goblin King and have a serious talk with him. Gildred's version of 'talk' consisted of giving orders, or telling someone what their crimes were before sentencing them. He was not used to taking a seat before someone patently unafraid of him and humbly asking their opinion.
Naturally, his enquiries were anything but humble. As Jareth's tired replies were anything but humble either, they were well matched. It was only interrupted when Elban barged in without knocking, a cheerful song on his lips.
Both Jareth and Gildred glared at him.
"What?" he defended, "Pardon my interruption, but I only came to relay a message. Jareth- Serenity has arrived."
"Finally!" Jareth stood up and stretched, a little light-headed with lack of sleep, but clearly happy about something. "Where is she?"
"In the yard," Elban smiled, "Come see. Beran is just calming her. As you can imagine, she won't listen to a word he is saying."
Jareth laughed and whisked himself away, leaving his best friend with his enemy. Not that said enemy was any kind of threat at the moment. Even the tiny ceremonial scar on Gildred's left cheek was dulled and dejected. He sat there, hunched in on himself, his red hair long and loose and ragged as all fae wore their hair, dressed in customary black.
Elban debated leaving. "Um, are you alright, My Lord?" he asked cautiously.
Grey eyes flitted up to look at him, an unnerving amount of steel in them. But then Gildred remembered just whom it was he was addressing. The forest sprite standing so innocently before him had survived life as the Goblin King's oldest friend. He didn't think Elban would cower beneath anyone's gaze anytime soon. "I am fine."
"Is there something I can get you? I know it is not my place, but I can call a servant if you were to want for something. Jareth will be a little… busy." That delicate curve of the lips came and went like quicksilver, dragging humour behind it.
"Oh, I have no interest in speaking with Jareth. I would be grateful, however, if you could tell me where I may find his sister."
"Ms. Jervohl? She practises behind the Castle in the mornings."
Gildred sat up straighter, interest sparking into life. "Swordcraft? She practises here? Still?"
"Yes."
"Well, why did no one say so! Tell me the direction. I must speak with her."
Elban was taken aback. "I am not sure I want any part of this. Jervohl didn't seem to want to speak with you last night."
"Are you are defying me?" Gildred sounded breathlessly amazed. As well he was! It was something that rarely happened; and never in a situation where he couldn't torture the information out of whomever stood before him. Most of the outlaws in his lands could face down anything except a dark summons to his Castle. And here was a sweet-faced forest sprite, dressed in merry red and yellow, large eyes wide with innocence, and patently uninterested in meekly following orders. The outlaw felt his world disappearing out from under his feet just a bit more.
"Oh, merciful love, don't tell me you order people not to defy you too?" Elban burst out into a peal of laughter. "This is priceless! Oh, and Jareth has always insisted you two were nothing alike. But I saw the resemblance; yes, I did. And I told him so! I told them all and none would believe me. Defy you, indeed!"
Gildred snapped. Before he had thought, his knife was out and at the other male's throat. "My orders are no laughing matter," he hissed, "And neither is my business with Jervohl. Take me there this instance."
A slight hand simply fastened over his wrist and pushed. Now a distasteful frown was levelled at him. "If you knew how many times I have had a knife at my throat," Elban said tellingly, "It is the least of my worries."
"But this time your attacker is not afraid to use it," Gildred growled.
"No. But then again I am confident that both Jareth and Beran will avenge my murder."
"I can take an extremely swift means back to my own lands. Even the King of the Goblins would not dare to follow me there."
Elban shrugged. "Then I think you should meet Serenity."
Gildred gave up. The blasted sprite was chuckling again! Did he never stop? The outlaw was tired and frustrated and his mind kept wandering back to that certain face and that certain day and their certain conversation that had landed him into this mess in the first place. And the blasted sprite laughed!
"Does nothing make an impression on you?"
"Yes. Asking," came the dry answer, "Follow me. Since you cannot keep a civil tongue in your head, I won't inflict you on a goblin servant."
"I am not uncivilized!"
"You still have that knife in your hand and are yet to decide whether to sink it into me or not. I feel I can call you whatever I want. Come."
Elban led the way out, piqued and amused by turns. He wasn't particularly afraid of Gildred, though he would have harboured some resentment to being killed. Beran, for one, would not be happy about his messy end, were Gildred to use that knife. And there would be all sorts of complications and really, was violence so necessary? Elban did, however, concede that the blunt threats had some charm of variety; Jareth had threatened worse through manipulation. Loss of life was fatal, but not as bad as other types of loss.
So he led the redhead down the stairs and darted out the doors, quite delighted to find that the fae had no hesitation in keeping his light-footed pace. It was just another skill that contributed to his legend. After all, the taletellers whispered, whom else but the spirits of the sky had ever walked on the earth with so fleet a foot, so graceful a balance? Though the legends also said that the Sky Spirits were so light, they never left a footprint behind; Gildred certainly made tracks. They were hard tracks to follow, but they were there. Any forest sprite worth his salt could be able to follow with a little concentration and a lot of good sense.
By the time they reached the backyard, the servants themselves had congregated admiringly in a tight knot of grubby bodies in the shadows of the Castle wall, chattering amongst themselves. The guests of His Majesty were grouped around a creature unusual even in the Underground- a winged horse.
Jareth was cooing to the animal in a low voice, stroking the elegant nose and brushing his hand over the animal's gleaming charcoal coat.
But Serenity was still shying away, distressed by the strange people in what should have been a familiar place. The whites of her eyes were beginning to show.
Toby noticed Elban's appearance with Gildred in tow and felt Jervohl stiffen. He would have been blind had he not seen how the fae's appearance the night before had affected her and briefly he wondered whether or not he should poke his nose in. But then Jervohl had already detached herself with an abrupt growl and leapt back into the pen, her sword drawn out once more and her eyes fixed firmly on Gildred. Toby considerately walked away.
"Get back, the lot of you," the Goblin King snapped, capturing the wildly tossed head of his favourite mount and coaxing her with soft pats.
Most complied.
"Remove your gloves, Jareth," Beran suggested, "No one approached her with leather in my stables and she doesn't seem to like the feel."
Toby was very interested now. He had never seen Jareth's hands. The fae wore gloves throughout the day, apparently. He rarely took them off. But take them off now he did, and the mortal was impressed. Sarah had always mentioned the Goblin King's hands. Looking back, he could vaguely remember a dreamy look on her face.
'And then he danced with me, one hand in my hand and the other hand on my waist. They were so soft, Toby, like- like velvet. But hard. You know? Like velvet on rock or something…"
They certainly looked just as soft tangling in the silky mane and delicate feathers. Serenity seemed to appreciate them, at any rate, for she whinnied softly and nuzzled against the Goblin King's shoulder, drawing the first completely honest smile Toby had ever seen out of him. It was wide and unselfconscious- untouched by mockery or self-satisfaction.
Luka.
Toby sighed and raked a hand through his short hair. He'd promised to go straight back to his room and Luke being Luke, he'd stay there until that promise was kept. Serenity wasn't going anywhere. He could come back and gawk at her later. Besides, Toby had to make a choice- stay or go. And Luke needed to know so they could plan this together.
Naturally, Luka was going to be the one 'educating' him. It was a forgone conclusion!
