Dawn was breaking peacefully over the Underground, streaking pale gold through the sky. It glinted off the leaves of the tree just outside Merilin's residence. He sat at the window of his study and watched it.
Personally, Merilin thought dawn was a very inefficient process. It was never perfect. In fact, some days it was just an indifferent blur of purples and golds and blue. Other days it was a magnificent tapestry the like of which no living being could ever replicate or even comprehend. And its timing was never as exact as it should be. Considering the Underground never experienced any change in seasons or weather, there should be no reason why it could not begin at 5:23 sharp very morning.
The elf had been awake for an hour by that point and he pulled his hastily donned robes closer, looking down once again at the two letters sitting so innocently on his desk. Who knew that the world would come crashing down with a few simple words?
Clear to the other side of the Kingdom, Jareth was pondering the same thing.
"I have never been so ashamed of any of my children as I am of you," Pandora ended, her voice trembling slightly, "I shudder to imagine what your father would do to you for this."
"He would call Council," Jareth said simply, playing with three crystals just for something to do, "He was very predictable."
Pandora stopped and stared. She was still in her nightclothes, a dressing gown thrown over the lot for modesty's sake. And she could not believe that the male she had spent eight hours giving birth to was sitting in a chair in her suite and mocking the man who had helped in his conception. She was too tired to be angry. So she took a seat and sighed, looking worriedly at him with wide blue eyes. "How do you do it?" she asked softly, "How can you sit there and pretend that you feel nothing?"
The damaged eye was closed, but the blue one so like hers was open and watching her calmly. "I never pretend to be anything, Mother. You know that."
"Predictable?" she echoed searchingly.
Jareth sat up reluctantly and folded his legs up under him on the brocade seat. "Every word out of his mouth was predictable. Every course of action was predictable. Tell me you never felt that too and I will know you are lying, Mother."
Pandora blushed a little and smiled humourlessly. "No, I felt it too. He was a good man, but he certainly was predictable. Bluff and blunt and too open for his own good."
"Then why the hell are you so upset because I said what you thought?"
"Jareth, do you never think that sometimes you need to keep a still tongue in your head?" Pandora pointed out, "That sometimes you need to pick the arguments worth winning and those that will only lead to trouble for everyone?"
"Of course."
"Then why- why- do you do the things you do?"
He smiled at her in amusement. "Who can say," he mused, "Why is the sky blue? Why is water wet? Why does, in your case, the Goblin King act as he acts?"
"And once again you make a mockery out of anything serious."
"Oh, is this serious? Oh dear! I had no idea." He settled down even deeper into the embankment of cushions he had built behind his back, sinking with feline smugness into the warming softness. "Forgive me, my Lady. I will try to answer as you wish."
"Jareth, if I were to wish anything, it would be to see you show some kind of humanity."
"I am not a human," he protested.
"No, but even the fae have a human basis that makes us capable of thinking of others. You have yet to show any kind of selflessness."
"I am not a selfless person either."
"So I see. But that was not how I raised you."
Jareth signed his helplessness in the matter. "You did the best you could," he murmured soothingly, "It is not your fault that I am a hopeless case."
She looked at him and wondered if it was even worth fighting him any more. She was too old for this. She should be free to grumble about her ailments and play with her grandchildren. And where were her grandchildren? She didn't have any! And neither of her two surviving children seemed to want to begin that process any time soon.
Perhaps staying in her palace and occupying herself with needlework would make her life less empty. But old though she was, the Lady Pandora was not of the inclination to sit still for days on end and coo over an embroidery frame. She would go mad if she couldn't talk to people and poke her inquisitive nose where it was not wanted. Not that she was ever vulgar about it, of course. Subtlety was her art.
And subtlety was wasted on her son; it flowed off his skin like heat off an icehog.
He puzzled her, this son. Jervohl was easy to read in spite of her added maturity and her secrets. All it had needed was a few months and Pandora was secure in the knowledge that she knew her daughter just as well as she had known her before Gildred. Only superfluous things had changed. But Jareth… Jareth was not easily read.
She couldn't understand him. He was like a tangled skein of thread that went around in circles. Even over a hundred years later, she was still searching for that one strand that would make the tangle collapse into some kind of comprehendible order. Unfortunately, just when she always thought she had found that strand, it turned out to muddle everything up even worse.
"You know, I do believe you go out of your way to be annoying," she remarked acidly, "All of us had a good, long talk about you the other night."
"Good for you," Jareth retorted, "I am going to bed."
"No, you are going to sit there until I am done," she snapped. There was enough steel in her voice that the Goblin King shrugged and decided to humour her. "We all talked about you. Do you know, out of three of us, we each have a different view of your character? Elban thinks you are unbalanced. I think you are misunderstood. Jervohl thinks you are cold. As for Toby- I am not sure what Toby thinks about the fae who is supposedly his guardian but treats him worse than a servant. Eloise, if I am not mistaken, thinks of you as a hard but noble King. Toby's tutor worshipped you as a benevolent master. The goblins see you as some sort of all-powerful deity. The elves see you as an autocratic tyrant. The centaurs see you as dispensable. The mountain sprites have yet to acknowledge you as their King, even if you have conquered them. The forest sprites and water sprites are convinced that you are easily manipulated. The merpeople know better and distrust you. Your brother… Dieter would have died for you."
"Mother, Dieter died for his foolish notions regarding love," Jareth told her comfortably. So far, he had not shown one drop of emotion no matter what she brought up. "If you are trying to blame me for his death,I will not accept that blame."
"I am not trying to blame anyone. Your brother paid for his foolishness, as you call it. We both know that silly mermaid was going to cause him harm and I hope she is satisfied now that the death of a good fae stains her jewelled fingers."
Jareth pictured the pretty young mermaid with the ready laugh and the wealth of red hair. What was it with his siblings and red hair? First Dieter and the mermaid, now Jervohl and the outlaw! And to make matters worse, they always chose quite the wrong type of person. "Marla did not kill him, Mother. The last time you insinuated that I had a political crisis on my hands. Thank God she married that old fool and let him get her out of my way. I hope she is happy."
"Bah! That old centaur was old enough to be her grandfather! What could she possibly see in such a lecherous old goat?"
"Centaur, Mother, not goat. The last time I heard any centaur called a goat in my hearing, it was Luka and I had another political crisis on my hands." He paused for a moment, as if caught by a sudden thought. "I believe I am surrounded by amateurs. No wonder there is so much scandal in the lands."
"No, there is scandal in the lands because you either make very shady deals with people or bed them into agreeing with you. Sometimes you do both," Pandora mocked.
Jareth's head snapped up, but he controlled his temper and only offered her a tight-lipped grimace. "Don't you start. My sex life is my own."
"Not true. If it were just you involved, I would agree. But since the entire Kingdom seems to parade through your bedchamber at one time or another, we should declare your sex life an issue of national interest."
The Goblin King stared in shock for a full moment and then threw back his head and burst out laughing. This was the most vehement his mother had ever been about 'those stories' and he couldn't help but wonder just how much her natural discretion rebelled against bringing it up. She had never done more than hint at it before. He was truly amused by such a scathing attack on his private life.
"Oh, stop laughing," Pandora growled, flapping at him and looking away, blushing and angry with herself for being so embarrassed, "Honestly! This is serious; not a matter to be laughed at."
"You are absolutely right, Mother. What would you like to know?"
"When am I getting grandchildren?"
"When I find the right female to mate with," Jareth said promptly, winking at her.
"There must have been someone you liked from all the many," Pandora pleaded, "Think about your family, Jareth. Think about me! I want grandchildren. Do you not want a child of your own?"
"No."
"But Jareth, you like children."
"And I deal with them on a regular basis," the Goblin King pouted, "Dozens; from all walks of life. And the only thing I can find to redeem the little brats is that they are usually not responsible for being wished away. I do not want children that will annoy me to the point that I could wish for some mythical being to take them as far away from me as they can get."
"Jareth, the only mythical being that could take your children is yourself. Which would be pointless."
"No, if I were to wish my child away I would still have to run the Labyrinth or give up my child as a ward of the State. It has happened, as a matter of fact. A Goblin King many thousands of years ago got so frustrated with his teething offspring that he wished her away. She ended up being adopted by a fisherman and his barren wife."
Pandora giggled and gave up. "I am never going to get grandchildren, am I?"
"You should ask Jervohl. I am not in the mood."
"You would have been," his mother prodded, "With Sarah."
"Mother…"
"I am not saying anything about it. I am only pointing out that perhaps you should not negate a family just yet. You have only to meet the right woman and you grow into the most conventional male I have met- romantic, possessive, practical… thinking of engagements and marriages and homes and babies. I was only reminding you."
Jareth's smile twisted unpleasantly but he allowed it. It was true, after all. He could not- in any conscience- brow beat his mother over stating the simple truth.
"Jareth, have you ever considered that some of your antagonistic attitude towards Toby may stem from your anger towards Sarah?" Pandora brought up suddenly.
Jareth froze and raised an incredulous eyebrow at her. "Mother," he said slowly, "You have been talking to Dr. Beck again, have you not? That is it. The man is not coming within ten measuring spaces of you ever again. And I will thank him to stop discussing me either."
"Dear, you have to admit that for someone of his profession, you are very interesting."
"I am not going to allow myself to become a psychologist's pet project," the Goblin King snarled, thumping a cushion with his fist, "I warned him about this! He is going into an oubliette by the end of the day."
"For mercy's sake, be reasonable!"
"I am. I warned him. I told him what would happen if he persisted in this rubbish and still!" Jareth summoned back one of the three crystals he had sent floating around the ceiling and peered angrily into it. It showed him what he desired, a stooped man in his forties, sitting at a perfectly ordered desk and scribbling in an enormous ledger.
"Jareth, put that crystal away," Pandora insisted, catching his wrist and squeezing.
The Goblin King dropped the crystal with a soft swear, pulling his wrist out from between those harsh fingers. "What do you want?"
"Dear, I only worry about you. This man knows how to help people cope with problems such as you face…"
"Listen to me." He grabbed her hands in his turn and looked her in the eye, serious as he hadn't been in a very long time. "Dr. Beck may be the best in his field- which I doubt- and I am sure he is very qualified as a psychologist. But I do not want him anywhere near me."
"Well, have you?" she demanded, "Be honest with yourself for once in your life. Do you ever think about why you dislike Toby?"
"I do not dislike Toby. I just do not like him. We are indifferent acquaintances, Mother."
"Indifferent… but you have bedded him, have you not?"
"No more than a mutual expending of sexual energy," Jareth termed it, wondering at the horrified expression confronting him, "No actual sex."
"You have touched him," Pandora questioned. Jareth nodded. And then winced as sharp nails dug into his palms in spite. "You fool! Are you trying to send him mad?"
"What? Why?"
Pandora wrenched her hands away and stood up hurriedly. "Toby is not like you, you pathetic excuse for a male. Unlike some of us in this room, he does not just let anyone that close to him. Therefore we can conclude that you have either seduced him- which would make his blindness even more painful than it already is- or you have convinced him in some way that sleeping with you will make things easier."
Jareth snorted and threw his hands up in defeat. "I give up," he scowled, "The entire lot of you are mad."
"Mad, am I?" Her voice was rising in octave.
"Yes! The man is twenty-five! What did you think- he was a saint?" Jareth couldn't believe this stupidity, "Has it not occurred to you that he might be perfectly happy having an affair in which nothing but mutual satisfaction is at stake? His boyfriend was caught thieving and banished informally from this kingdom for a year. He is not in the right frame of mind to have another momentous relationship."
Pandora went back to her bedchamber and slammed the door.
Jareth shook his head at her naivety and flung open the outer door, intending to go back to his room and get some sleep. Some blessed sleep! Free of forest sprites and fae mothers. Free of blinded wards and lover-lorn sisters. Free of everything except peace and quiet and the smooth flowing of life and nature.
He didn't notice the twitch of disreputably bitten ears as Gibil cowered into a dark corner and held his breath.
The little goblin could hear his little heart thundering much too fast and fervently hoped that Jareth couldn't hear it as well. Because then he would be in trouble. Worse than trouble, he would be in the Bog. And he hated the Bog! He had a cousin who had been thrown into the Bog. The family was still recovering from the shame. Even eight months later it was still a shock to smell him. Gibil didn't want to be like that.
So he waited, holding his breath until he thought he would burst. Then, and only then- when Jareth was safely in his room- did Gibil fall over coughing and gasping.
His ears burned. He hadn't been meant to hear that conversation; he was sure of that. What was a goblin to do? Gibil's mouth curved into a mischievous smile. He could have a little fun with gossip, that was for sure. And he was certain that Toby would want to hear about it too.
Gibil sobered up. Would Toby want to know? Goblins couldn't really keep secrets unless it was very important. But they were not without finer feelings. And Gibil was very fond of the large blond mortal that had been so kind to him. And while Gibil himself would never have been bothered to hear that the Goblin King didn't like him, he got the feeling that Mr. Williams might not be that indifferent to such news.
Right, then. He wouldn't tell him. Gibil's ears twitched. Alright, he would. But he would feel very bad about it and he would run extra errands for Toby to make up for it. There! That would do.
