"Jervohl, listen to reason…"
"No!"
Gildred was annoyed. He was ruler of all the outlawed states, gangs of murderers and thieves bowed humbly before him, he owned the equal to the famed powerstone of the Goblin King and he was being dictated to by a mere female! Not that females were sidelined in the magical realm, but he could break Jervohl's back without lifting a finger! And she knew it!
He stood up abruptly and left, striding away before he betrayed his good sense and assaulted the Goblin King's younger sister in the grounds of said Goblin King's very Castle.
The sound of pattering steps sounded behind him and he ignored them. He knew whose they were- he had trained them after all- but he would not give her that satisfaction. Better he left as soon as he was able. He would pay his respects to Jareth just to keep peace until their next conflict, but that was all he owed to the Underground.
"Gildred!"
He wouldn't answer. He refused flatly to do so, eyes straight ahead and jaw clenched on anything striving to be said.
"You had no right to give that promotion to someone else," Jervohl snapped, "I earned it! No one worked harder than I did; no one was more suited. How can Madigh be of use to you? He is barely literate; the other lieutenants despise and distrust him; he is a cruel, evil, vicious person…"
"I know and that is exactly why he has the job," Gildred spat, whirling around abruptly to stop scant inches from his pursuer's face. He was furious, his grey eyes almost translucent with power and his face pale against the red of his hair. "I do not need someone to organize a bloody union. I need someone to slit throats! Could you have done that? Could you?"
Jervohl gulped and drew back. She had stepped too far. Gildred's hand had risen once again to the medallion around his neck and she knew how much he was restraining himself from using the power that was his. Out of force of habit she lowered her eyes before him.
Gildred took a deep breath to steady himself and nodded. "I thought not," he ended, softening his voice. "You never have belonged in my world. Stay here where you belong."
Green eyes never lifted from the stone pavement.
Gildred walked away.
Up in his throne room- hiding from his guests through sheer force of habit- Jareth banished the crystal and sank into reflective gloom. It really was too much for him to think about. And it meant that Jervohl would be moping around his Castle for far more years than he cared to think of.
Something about this case puzzled him, however. Why had Gildred not just attacked her, as was his wont? Jareth had seen him do worse to a lieutenant for much less. True, Jervohl would not be a smart choice to maim, but it could be done. The outlaw was just that- an outlaw. He might be the voice of order in his world of chaos, but he still existed beyond law as the Underground knew it.
Why would Jervohl have chased him, as well?
The Goblin King sighed and stood up. Turning it over in his mind would not help matters. He could only hope that they would work it out of their own. And now there was Elban and Beran to consider. The forest sprite was jumpy and moody, shifting from one emotional extreme to the other. The dwarf was stoic and reserved, looking as if he would bite anyone that attempted to speak with him.
And then there was Toby.
He was more certain of Luka's position than he cared to admit, and the fae was not going to change his mind in a hurry. There was no reason for him to do so. It wasn't so much a trading voyage that was planned, as an importation- of powerstones. It wasn't legal, but Jareth didn't feel it worth his attention to protest. Cheap and general, but still with enough power if the person didn't want to undergo an admittedly dangerous trip through the Labyrinth to get a personal powerstone.
A lucrative business, Jareth contemplated. Would the Over Sea countries really be worth importing powerstones from? He shrugged and let it go. His people had been doing it for centuries and he couldn't hope to do more than make sure they didn't blow themselves up playing with fire.
He summoned a crystal and let it drop from his hand. He was waiting less than thirty seconds before his housekeeper bobbed up before him, curtseying intently. "Yava, are the guests settled?" he asked coolly.
"Yes, Sire."
"Anything going wrong?"
"None at all, Sire."
"Good." He stalked away without another word, leaving her to sigh with relief that the interview had gone as well as it had. But there were other things to care for. The guests were numerous and varied. The merfolk needed to especially looked after, since they still had to spend large amounts of time in salt water baths so their scales wouldn't dry out and crack.
Yava was, in short, extremely busy.
It was lucky that she did not have to supply goblin girls to look after the ladies and their dressing. If there had been a Queen in residence, it would have been different. No one expected an unmarried King to need goblin servants who knew how to do elaborate coifs.
Yava was, of course, aware of her blessings. And she counted them every day. But the menu for the day's light lunch was in dire need of her approval and she bustled off to oversee the cooks. And to make sure the rooms were appropriately clean. And to supply any mundane other necessities to the guests.
The guests themselves were scattered throughout the Castle, well used to amusing themselves. A few of the ladies and gents were playing hopscotch for no reason other than that they could indulge their childish whims and fancies. A few others were enjoying the privacy and quiet of the slickly run Castle at the Centre of the Labyrinth. The rest were employed in a combination of games and quiet gossip.
Jareth flitted briefly from group to group, greeting old friends and welcoming old acquaintances. He made a note to himself to encourage relations with certain of them and politely discourage the balance.
Not that everyone was after his blood, in hate or lust or otherwise. Quite a few were perfectly indifferent to him. And he liked it. They made it easier to be ignored in their turn.
He met Luka and Garlo and their gang of younger, noisy people. Merilin, an elf from a disgustingly wealthy family, smiled smugly at him and seemed to enjoy talking at great length about how different Toby was from the general description of Sarah.
The Goblin King didn't need to look at Luka to know that there was no wince of insult passing over that pretty face. "They are different people," he excused.
The elf smirked even wider. "Is it true you keep a picture of Ms. Williams in your study, Jareth? I should love to see it, you know, if only to compare the two."
"I'll keep that mind," Jareth said. It was too early in the damned ball to have anyone thrown into the Bog of Eternal Stench. "Pardon me."
He was well aware that there was an undercurrent of mockery in those words. But Jareth was nothing if not a tactician, and he filed the incident away in his mind for future reprisals.
Elban looked up from his depressed contemplation of his potentially former lover to see his best friend stop short in the shadow of a tree and frown, looking inwards to something no one else could see. This in itself was not an unusual occurrence, but the look of distorted pain on Jareth's face was.
He waited till the fae was in hearing range and then called him aside.
"If this is about a separate room," Jareth began, lifting a warning hand to stop the flow of pleading words that had bombarded him in the earlier morning.
"Forget the room," Elban insisted, "What's wrong?"
"Wrong?" Jareth seemed honestly mystified.
"Yes. Are you in pain?"
"No. Though I could wish I hadn't taken a maggot into my head to throw a ball this size with people I don't care for, but…"
"But you winced in the shade of that tree," Elban protested, grabbing the fluttering white sleeve and shaking.
"It suddenly registered that Luka was wearing a purple shirt," Jareth soothed, "Calm down, Elban. Not all of us are in such a state."
"You're… not in pain?"
"Not in the least."
"It was Luka's shirt?"
"It positively blinded me."
The forest sprite glowered a warning, but since the Goblin King was directing the most innocently complaisant look down at him, there was little he could do except shrug and accept it. "All right. Oh, and I spoke with Waldo. He says he will be honoured to assist with Toby's, er, lack of educator."
"Waldo?" Jareth thought about that. A merman for a mortal… it somehow didn't seem to be Toby's style. The merman was a serious-minded person, the complete opposite to Luka and the others that his ward seemed to associate with. But it was an option. "Good."
By the time he left, Jareth was very well aware of two things- Beran was glaring at him fit to rip holes in his shirt with the powerstone that was barely in check around the dwarf's wrist, and the problems with most of the people surrounding him were a long way from solution. It was time for him to either apparate somewhere else for the next two weeks or find a quick way to get them to sort things out themselves.
