Author's Note: A gillped is a furry little creature with a squashed face and cabbage ears. It looks a bit like Crookshanks, Hermione's cat from 'Harry Potter', only it isn't a cat, doesn't have a tail and it walks upright on two legs. A bit like Ludo in miniature.

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"You are really going through with this," Jervohl asked anxiously.

Gildred cast her an expressive glance and nodded curtly. He bent down to meet Braan eye-to-eye and smiled. "Are you finally happy? This is what you have always wanted."

"To meet the Council for the Underground?" Braan laughed, "You must not be in your right mind, My Lord. Though I should, perhaps, call you Your Majesty."

"Naturally. A King is to be addressed in the appropriate fashion," Dervina put in, "Your Majesty, are you certain that you have no need for me today?"

Three pairs of eyes looked at Jervohl. The fae sighed in long-suffering fashion and motioned to them to continue talking, regardless of her presence.

"It is not that I suspect anyone in the Underground of harbouring ill-will towards you…"

"Ha!" Braan put in bracingly.

"… But the, er, show of ceremony on our behalf might make the entire concept a little more real to them. They, after all, are absolutely ignorant of our ways. They might not realize just how momentous the occasion is."

"I think they are sufficiently aware," Jervohl warned, "The very definition of so many of those banished from the Underground was that they were against a King. For you to now announce a monarchy is- is a little shocking. Which is to say, most of them would be surprised and shout a lot, even if they already call you the tyrant king in all but name." Belatedly she realized what she had said.

Gildred looked inordinately proud of the backhanded compliment. "Then I think I am ready. Where is Jareth?"

"He instructed me to bring you straight to the Council where he will announce you," Jervohl said, a touch more formally, "Pray excuse us. I think we should make haste."

Gildred consented to be led away.

Dervina and Braan shared a mutual look of pleasure. "I bet you a hundred gold that he will have her answer by this evening," Braan said quickly.

"Ah, no, my friend. Jervohl is not the type to succumb so easily. I say he will have to wait a week," Dervina laughed, "For the actual answer, of course. No fond declarations of caring, no shared looks of longing. It will be a week before Gildred will demand that she return to our lands as his bride."

"And our fair maiden will have no say?"

"Have you known His Lordship to ask?"

"Fair enough. A hundred gold coins, then. This is a binding note."

"I understand," Dervina sighed, holding out her rough hand.

They shook on it, solemn-faced even as they relished the amusement. These bets had been a tacit tradition for the last four years, when Madigh had spitefully pointed out in a closed meeting that the young female was paying Gildred too much mind. Jervohl had, thankfully, not been present. But it was the reaction to this typically tedious ranting that had set these two tongues wagging- Gildred had magically thrown Madigh into the farthest wall of the tiny room with such force, the male had suffered a minor head injury.

Braan touched the pendant around his neck in thoughtful reflection. Madigh had his uses. He was a good general. His information system was immaculate; no one else had ever built such a network. He was loathed, yes, but for good reason. Only, Braan didn't like him. If it were up to him, he would never have elected to have Madigh take such an important position. But Gildred was King- or would be- and Gildred's word was law.

Gildred was not quite certain that his word would count very much in his current situation. The Goblin King had met them at the entranceway to the Hall, still closely shadowed by his ward. And Gildred was just dying to ask a few questions about that relationship, but he didn't dare. Instead, he tightened his grip on Jervohl's hand and ignored her attempts to pull away by taking her with him into the Council.

Jareth didn't look surprised. He went in first. Toby came in last and shut the door behind him. He silently kept a blank face as to Jervohl's predicament and had another chair set for her by Gildred's right hand. To her worried look, he only shook his head slightly in shared confusion.

Jareth watched all of this with a perfectly straight face, ignoring the silent group of senior advisers that stood respectfully in his presence. He was far too busy keeping a grin hidden at the sight of his sister's distress. Then he beckoned his ward over to his left and finally decided to get the entire boring ordeal finished. "Sit," he sighed, gesturing with one hand.

The congregation bowed- in varying ways- and then sat. The chatter broke out almost immediately.

"Your Majesty," a merman was already on his feet, webbed hands folded before him in defiance, "You cannot be serious! Lord Gildred cannot be privy to a private Council!"

"Your Majesty," a dwarf had bounced up onto his chair and struck a dramatic pose, "Your Majesty, we must insist. We will not allow this. None but true citizens of the Underground may enter the Council! It is law and I can point to the relevant passages."

Toby's brows rose in surprise as he looked from the silent fae beside him to the frantic mass before them.

Gildred clicked his tongue in distaste and grimaced. In his Kingdom- or soon to be Kingdom- if anyone had dared to accost him in such a disrespectful manner, he would have personally had sewn their mouths shut. He was itching to order it from his medallion, but decided not to. It wouldn't be the best way to introduce himself.

"Your Majesty, we should have been informed… Your Majesty, this is madness… Your Majesty, you are not serious…."

Jareth waited patiently and began to hum to himself as he played with two crystals. He didn't even look up when the shouting grew louder. This had happened before and contrary to appearances, Jareth was giving them all his full attention. But he didn't want them to know that. The two crystals he was playing with showed different Council members as he thought of them, allowing him to watch them closely as he let their loud words sink in.

The Council was not happy about Gildred's presence. The Council was off-balance and in a panic. The Council had other work that needed to be seen to.

Jareth made a mental note to keep them all an extra day. He would have to finish this business sooner or later, but he wasn't stupid enough to run through private work with Gildred sitting next to him. This matter with Jervohl would have to be done first. And then the Council would probably have to be dismissed for the rest of the day to let the shock sink in. And tomorrow- back to normal.

Toby shifted uncomfortably, unconsciously moving closer to Jareth as he noticed the images in the crystals.

"Look closer," his guardian whispered suddenly, "The fools think I am ignoring them all. That way they scream louder and betray themselves further. An effective probe, do you not think?"

Toby looked at the crystal he was given and shook his head in exasperation. Sometimes he wondered just why Jareth had to make things more difficult. Effective probe, indeed!

"Your people are rowdy," Gildred commented, laying a hand on Jareth's arm, "My teeth are on edge and I might bite anytime soon."

Jareth nodded and banished the crystal. He held up a gloved hand and this time glared at them long enough that they got the message. The Duke and his two assistants were seated at a table directly in front of the shallow steps, waiting to be called on for their moral guidance. The rest of the members were seated at long tables that ran a good way down the sides of the long hall. But not too far. Not so far that they were unable to be heard or seen.

The Lady Pandora was not in attendance. She had sent for another lady well respected by the fae community to take her place. With her son as the King and her daughter's marriage as an issue, the Lady Pandora did not relish being accused of having an unhealthy advantage in the Council. So she stayed away, diligently refusing to get involved.

Toby wished he had done the same. Only, Jareth had asked.

"If you have all expended whatever energy you were cursed with this morning," Jareth snarked, "I would like to halt the usual process of business for an important political matter. Lord Gildred of Sky has graciously accepted my invitation to compose a truce between our Kingdom and his."

The shouting began again- "What Kingdom… He is an outlaw… We can trust nothing he says… What truce… The Outlaws have no Kingdom…"

Gildred growled and Jareth patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Silence!" he yelled.

The throng sat down again.

"My Lord Duke, is it befitting our people that we show such disrespect to a guest?" Jareth asked gently.

The Duke glared at his King, but stook up with stiff determination. "It is not, Your Majesty. And we apologize to Lord Gildred for our lack of good manners."

"Good," Gildred muttered. He tapped Jervohl on the hand and leaned closer to her. "What a sour-faced old gillped!"

"The Duke is very powerful, My Lord," Jervohl murmured back, "I would advise you not to antagonise him."

"Is that the Duke?" Gildred contemplated for a few minutes. "He really is a sour-faced old gillped."

Jareth's lips twitched but he gave no other sign of listening in to the conversation. Nodding at the Duke to sit, he settled down comfortably in his throne and crossed his legs. "Thank you, Duke Bevil. Now, if I may have the attention of the Council for a few minutes, I have certain news to relate. A few of you have sought to correct my mistake as to the Outlaw's state of land. In point of fact, Lord Gildred has just announced a Kingship and will consolidate the settlements under his reign. He comes to us, therefore, as a Nobleman and as my equal. It is my intention to seek truce with the Outlaws and to form an alliance."

The throng got to their feets.

Jareth overturned the tables on them- literally.

They subsided again, suitably chastised.

"In my opinion, irrelevant though it may seem," he resumed ironically, "This will allow us to trade certain necessities with them. Necessities such as protection?" He raised an eyebrow at the lot of them, reminding them subtly that the halt of hostilities would not only remove their biggest enemy but would give them an almost legendary military to call upon.

The elementals, the dwarves, the fae, the centaur, the merpeople, the elves and the mixed elementals all shuffled their feet and looked down at the overturned tables.

"In return," Jareth agreed swiftly, "We will also provide them with skilled labourers and food materials that cannot grow in their arid soil. We will assist in the building of infrastructure and we will trade in those little luxuries that have made our lives such a blessing, hmmm?"

The Elderman for the merpeople stood up silently and bowed, asking for permission to speak.

"Yes?"

"Your Majesty, it seems to me to be an unbalanced trade agreement. We have the certainty of military assistance for an unknown time when we might- might, mark you- need it. In turn, they have a share in produce that is still as necessary to us as it is to them."

"Unbalanced, you say." Jareth toyed with the riding crop he had picked up from nowhere. He appeared to be turning that over in his head, giving it a serious contemplation. And then he smirked and looked to his ward- "Toby? What is your opinion?"

The mortal was startled, shooting a disquietened look at the Goblin King before observing the disgruntled glare on the faces of the Council members. After all, he wasn't even a citizen of the Underground, for all the protection Jareth awarded him. He tried to think as clearly as he could, consciously shifting his mental perceptions to view all angles.

"It does seem unbalanced," he admitted, "Yet… it does not seem disadvantageous. The more assistance we provide to Lord Gildred's people," he elected not to use the word 'outlaw', "The more goodwill we foster. Which means that they will be more disposed to trading with us. Which is when we possibly could petition Lord Gildred for an open trade route between the two countries."

Buttress looked nonplussed. Jareth chuckled quietly to himself and clapped languidly with his gloved hands. "Good," he complimented, "Very good. A sound policy and one that I hope Gildred is not averse to?"

The outlaw leader shook his head, smiling an equally approving glimmer of a smile.

"However," Jareth broke in, "The policy is a long-term policy and one that might well take a minimum of ten years to achieve. What else, Toby?"

Toby glared at him, but Jareth's smirk only widened to show sharp teeth. "Lord Gildred's people have skills that we would do well to copy. Their medical aid is the best in our realm. Their military is also superior to ours in terms of skill and efficiency. I assume you will ask to have representatives update our own systems, both medical and military."

Jareth nodded, but continued to look enquiringly at him.

Toby thought some more, completely unaware of the way in which Gildred's smile was widening. Trust Jareth, the fae laughed inwardly, he had just tossed the entire burden of the trade agreement into someone else's lap. And in such a way that Toby wasn't even aware he was being burdened! He was simply trying to think as Jareth might, not realizing that Jareth didn't want to think at all.

"Lord Gildred's lands will add a balance to ours, the order limiting chaos and the chaos limiting order. Outlaws might cease to exist, if a system of prisoner exchange can be arranged. The most destructive chaos elements in our lands might be sent to Lord Gildred in order to be effectively contained. The same may be inverted, where your chaos rule may soften those obsessed with order."

Jareth's smile faded as he ran through that in his head. "I am impressed," he commented, pleasantly surprised. He hadn't thought of things from that angle. It occurred to him that Toby was out of ideas and grasping at straws. "Alright. All of those suggestions are certainly to be finalized. But there is one last thing that I will insist upon. It is non-negiable."

Jervohl felt Gildred stiffen beside her. She herself was not sure what Jareth was talking about. From the wild amusement in his eyes, she was busy trying not think of the many things he might possibly be referring to. She would kill him if he said something along the lines of Gildred taking her off his hands.

Jareth looked to the mountain sprites sitting so sullen, as far away as they could get. "I demand the return of the quarry and the immediate evacuation of all of your troops and settlers from that area of land. Apart from that," he shrugged, "There is nothing I have my heart set on."

Gonzo almost broke his pen, his hand jerked so hard in surprise. He stared in shock from the Goblin King to the mountain sprites. But Jareth had really done it. In one fell swoop, he had used an advantage to resolve a situation not even related to it! The goblin picked up his pen and finished the sentence shakily.

Gildred stood up and bowed first to the Goblin King before offering another to the assembly. It was the polite thing to do, even if Jareth didn't do it. "My Lords and Ladies," he began, "Gentlefolk of the Underground, I ask that you allow me to put aside our differences of the past and speak as an ally. We will be neighbours, and unthinkable though it now seems, we might as well act the part. That said, I agree to the immediate demand made upon me by His Majesty King Jareth. The quarry shall be returned. My troops will vacate by the end of the month."

The mountain sprites began to dance a jig and laugh.

Jareth sighed and covered his eyes with his hands in mortification. Gildred ignored them.

"But in my turn, I have one demand to make as well," Gildred said.

Jareth sat up straighter.

"I demand the right to ask Ms. Jervohl to return with me, as my wife." He looked coolly at Jareth, not even noticing the statue sitting wide-eyed on his other side.

Jareth laughed out loud and timidly his Council members joined in; uncertainly it was true, but they joined in. Toby winced in sympathy for the petrified female.

"A splendid idea," Jareth agreed, "You have my full permission."

The Duke sat quietly, imploding under the blood pounding in his ears.

"Ms. Jervohl?" Gildred turned to her and held out his hand, "A word, if you please."

"My Lord, will you stop," she hissed, "For pity's sake not now!"

"When else? You avoid me. You evade me. You stop me speaking when we do meet." He waited patiently for her. "You will certainly listen now."

Toby almost stood up, but kept himself well out of it. It wasn't his business and Jareth wouldn't thank him for sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. Even if he thought it wasn't fair to ambush her in such a public way.

The Duke was reaching the limits of his control.

"Ms. Jervohl?"

"My Lord, please?"

"Now, my dear."

"The lady has asked for a private meeting," the water sprite snapped out loud, "Have you so little decency as torefuse that?"

Jareth's eyes flickered as they swept from his sister's flushed face to the Duke. He bit his tongue on a curse and stood up. "Sit down," he ordered, "And still your tongue."

"I will have my say, Your Majesty," the Duke said mulishly, "And I say no! I said it before, I say it again. I will not condone such a- a breach of good manners. To even think of allowing such a humiliating proposal highlights my entire case in point."

Jareth stalked down the stairs and Toby got up with an oath and followed him. "Jareth," he muttered, grabbing an arm and anchoring, "Stay. Let him speak."

The Goblin King halted and looked down in distaste at the hand on his arm. It fell away almost instantly. "Restrain me again," he warned, "And I will have you arrested." He turned away from the mortal and took in the quivering water sprite with his most insolent gaze. "You. Have I asked for your opinion?"

"No, Your Majesty." Even the Duke knew when he had spoken out of turn.

"Have I called upon you in any way?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"And yet you dared to speak out without my express permission?" It was a hypocritical path to take; the entire Council had been doing it at frequent intervals. The Duke's fault was that he had raised valid concerns where Jareth didn't want to hear them.

The Duke said nothing.

"Sit down."

"Forgive my plain-speaking, Your Majesty, but you cannot dismiss the Duke's opinion out of hand." The fae Lady. This was certainly a problem now, for Jareth had always had the outward support of the fae, if only because of his race. "He is our elected leader in moral etiquette and I agree that such a humiliating experience is far out of the bounds of common decency."

"I see."

Toby waited quietly.

"Are you all of this opinion?"

Not many nodded, but the few that did were damagingly well placed.

Gildred looked from the mutinous Council to the female he was addressing. He raised an eyebrow and she flushed. "Even here," he commented, "You are the centre of dissent. I thought my court was only ill-equipped to deal with your presence."

"My Council," Jareth called back, "Is not ill-equipped. It is just blind."

He waited, looking from face to face, eye to eye. All of them in turn as he deliberated. "Do you expect me to feel ashamed?" he asked bluntly, "To back down?"

The Duke snorted. "You have not the courtesy."

Jareth didn't react. He merely smiled, a cool dangerous smile. "Have I not?" It was an encouraging sort of thing to say.

"But what else can one expect," the Duke spat, "From someone of your reputation!"

"My reputation. I see."

"A corrupt influence…"

"I admit to that."

"A profligate and a wastrel…"

"Words, My Lord Duke, words and words alone."

"A male with no morals, no shame, no sense of humility…"

"I am as I am and I was as I am before I ever became who I am."

"A trickster and a manipulative schemer…"

"Luckilythe job description of the Goblin King."

"An arrogant, ego-swollen waste of intelligence who is not only a danger to himself, but a danger to every innocent being that comes into contact with him. You are a danger, Your Majesty, and I no longer hesitate to say it."

Toby couldn't see Jareth's face. From the looks of fear- or the inability of so many to look the fae in the face- he assumed Jareth had reached his most forbidding. He felt a presence just behind him and he looked around, to find Gonzo hurriedly packing his things and making his fastest escape. Jervohl was frozen in her seat, conflicting looks of anger and fear warring in her eyes. Gildred was only watching; he would be no help.

Jareth turned around, deftly swept up the shallow stairs and took his throne again. "Jervohl, what say you to Lord Gildred's proposal?"

"There will be no proposal," the Duke shouted.

"Jervohl?" Gildred looked at the female. She was confused and panicked and his heart bled for her, but he hardened himself and gave her no way out. Or wait. He could give her one way out- "I hit you the first time," he told her, "But I loved you when you retaliated."

She blinked in surprise.

They might well have forgotten the world around them at that moment as she replayed that second meeting in her head. "You were brutal," she defended.

"It was a brutal world I lived in," he excused, "But you can fight me, my dear. I will take you if you will not agree."

"You will take me?"

"I will snatch you away without warning and carry you away to my fortress, yes. Do you doubt me? I will have you to fight me; make no mistake about that."

"I will not sit home and sew buttons," she warned.

"I will not ask it of you. I need a warrior, an advisor. What say you?"

"I agree."

"No!" The Duke was adamant about that. "I will not see this happen."

Toby was bewildered. Jervohl was smiling up at Gildred as if all the talk about hitting and fighting was the most romantic thing she had ever heard. Jareth was studiously controlling himself; Toby could tell by the way his hands were clenched on the arms of the throne. Most of the Council had no idea what was going on and still that senile old fool kept shouting. The mortal told himself to go back to his seat, if only to silently offer his support to his guardian, as was right and proper. But his feet wouldn't move. The shouting was getting on his nerves, even when Jervohl took her new fiancé's hand and accepted the gentle hug he drew her into. He could guess the flash of bitterness in Jareth's eyes without even knowing why, the twisted ghost of a smile that would curl the corners of his mouth.

"My Lord Duke, if you would be so good as to stop shouting, we will all be the better for it," Toby said quietly.

The Duke shut up with a huff. "Another innocent," he remarked out loud, "Another life ruined."

Jareth was reminded of the elf he was to sentence for crimes he was still not sure of wanting to reveal. 'He ruined her brother's life as well.' It almost escaped his notice that Toby was speaking. A meandering word caught his attention and then Jervohl was looking worriedly at him over Gildred's shoulder, silently pleading with him to stop the madness.

"… further more, if you will insist of offering your archaic and narrow-minded opinions, it is to be hoped that you will at least see that they were well founded before you speak them aloud. I am in no way an innocent because, yes, I was in a relationship with another fae before I even turned twenty-five. Your inability to see me as mortal, and therefore well passed my coming-of-age, has led to a lot of trouble on His Majesty's behalf and given him the added burden of accepting my education as well as his other duties. If you will not see his good intentions for what they are- even cloaked in arrogance and manipulation- then you are clearly blind and unfit for the position you occupy."

Jareth wasn't used to being defended in public. Nor was he used to being portrayed as someone 'good'. He wasn't sure he liked it. "Toby…"

"Just a minute, Jareth. On another note, My Lord Duke, I have a deep respect for His Majesty King Jareth and far from being ruined, I swear allegiance to the Goblin King and offer my life in his service for as long as he shall need it. I suggest you pick another example to illustrate your poisonous thoughts."

"Toby!"

The mortal turned his head and caught the threatening glare. He left one last look at the Duke and kneeled before the throne. "Forgive my interruption, Your Majesty. Perhaps it will be best if I leave."

"It will be best if the Council brakes for this day. We will resume tomorrow. My servants will see to your needs." Jareth stood up and gestured the mortal to stand up. "Come with me. You two, are you sure?"

Gildred looked at Jervohl and she nodded solemnly.

"Praise be," the Goblin King growled, "Jervohl, the Lady Pandora will be awaiting you in her rooms. Gildred, I suggest you accompany her. If you could find your way to my study this evening, we will have the conditions of the truce drawn up by tonight."

He took Toby's arm and abruptly told him to steel himself. He took them both back to their original suite of rooms, barely waiting for Toby to adjust before he pushed him down into a chair. "What the devil did you mean by that display? Were you trying to embarrass me?"

"They were wrong about you."

"They are right about me," Jareth grated, "I am no angel, Toby. I have no wish to be. I lie and I manipulate and ultimately I get what I want from people. If I have good intentions to certain people, it is only reflected in the final outcome and not in the methods I employ."

"You are not always like that."

Toby believed it, Jareth realized. All his care and attention had made Toby think he was always that caring and that attentive. Jareth smirked and prowled closer, throwing his gloves over his shoulder because he was well aware that Toby found his hands erotic and wasn't going to stop when if the mortal asked it. "You've only seen one side of me, then," Jareth murmured.

Toby backed away a little as those beautiful hands slipped through his hair to grip the back of his skull. In an instant, Jareth's mouth was insistent upon his, hot and demanding and completely ruthless. Toby wasn't used to such kisses. He opened his mouth only through sheer instinct. Jareth's tongue swept into his mouth as if conquering a land.

Rough, demanding tugs at his clothing and his body. Pulling him, pushing him, forcing him from the usual things he did to something a little more submissive. It wasn't submissive, really. But the part of Toby's mind that was still engaged in thought, suspected that Jareth wasn't even really that bothered with anything but his own needs.

A far cry from the fae that had been such a gentleman in bed for the previous nine months.

The bed wasn't too far and they reached it by the time they were mostly naked. Jareth encouraged his head lower with an imperious sort of push. Toby obliged, but didn't get very far before he was pulled up again and kissed as savagely as before. The Goblin King kept changing! He would hint at something and then demand something else. He seemed to like something else, but insisted on Toby's attention directed to the opposite direction.

Moreover, Jareth hadn't ever given any indication that he wanted to 'top'. It was a forgone conclusion that he liked to, really, even discarding the various stories told about him. But Toby had completely forgotten what it was like, since Luka rarely did it and Jareth seemed to like to be made love to.

Made love to!

Toby buried his nose in the pillow and groaned, though not because of the sudden nip at his shoulder as Jareth moved inside of him. His body accepted it, moved and lifted and curled as Jareth's demands made it. He locked his sudden concerns away in a strong mental box and concentrated, listening to every grunt and groan and whispered order in the fae tongue to 'move' and 'more' and 'tight' and 'yes'. He concentrated on the smell of clean sweat and sex and clean sheets, on the silky-hard body and the slight sting of teeth or nails. He concentrated on the sight of his hands clenched in the sheets and the creases on the pillow and the way Jareth's hair was long enough to fall over his shoulder and spread pale strands on the white linen.

If Jareth had been hoping to make his point, Toby decided dismally that he hadn't made it. Because the fae finished first and just as Toby was shuddering, on the brink of orgasm and trying to force that last inch into himself, Jareth slammed harder than ever into him and ground his hand between his legs and really, that was all it could ever take to wash the mortal away.

They lay panting on the bed, both convinced this had had quite the wrong effect.