Author's Note: Taron is a card game. Similar to poker but played with three decks and a system of penalties as well as the usual rules.
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"Alright, sit down. This Council is reconvened. Keep up, Gonzo; I won't be repeating myself. And you, Sir, if you could keep your seat for one minute more? Good. Now! What is the next order of business?"
Jareth was, once again, tired. He felt as though he had spent most of the past year not getting enough sleep. The rest of the time he felt as though he had been arguing. If there was one thing he did not want to spend the rest of the day doing, it was arguing and feeling tired. But this had been planned. The Council members would not stand for being sent away unsatisfied again.
Noll looked perfectly fresh, damn her green skin! Jareth found it insufferable that merfolk could do with the minimum number of hours of sleep. And Buttress didn't seem to have a sore head from all that drinking, either. Well, at least the Goblin King was sure of the merpeople. The elves would follow Merilin so he estimated that beginning that announcement would be best for everyone. And the centaurs… well, he hadn't had the time for the centaurs, but the mountain sprites would stand on their heads and count backwards for him now that he had won back their quarry.
"Right. Leave aside the petty business of waste," he dismissed, "Have the garbage collectors do a landfill or something. Surely there is a pond or lake or puddle of some kind that no water race is using? Sort it out amongst yourself. Cruin, stand up."
The elf looked startled, but rose obediently to his feet.
"As the Head of the Diplomatic and Political Committee of the Elves, I must needs ask why you have yet not mentioned that one of your senior members is missing?" Jareth watched his reaction carefully.
The elf obviously did not like being questioned in front of the entire assembly. But he swallowed any protests he might have made and spoke clearly, "We did not think it worth your attention, Your Majesty. As Mr. Williams pointed out yesterday, you have many duties. And Mr. Williams' education as well."
Jareth did not like that snide comment. He also didn't like the glint of independent thought in Cruin's eyes. He made a mental note to do something about it. "As you say," he agreed mildly, "I was only curious."
Cruin nodded and sat down.
"Send for Sir Merilin," Jareth called nonchalantly.
The elves almost fell out of their chairs. The other races just watched the door and relished the drama. They loved Council meetings when the Goblin King didn't turn his attention to them. Jareth was always good for providing bits of interesting news.
Sir Merilin came very readily. He looked far better than he had done the day before, having been allowed out into the garden all morning. He had been given a change of clothing, the chance to bathe and dress properly in the privacy of his own room, and a healthy meal. He also entered with the certain knowledge that he was about to be given a very important job. A very deadly job, but most people wouldn't know that. His sense of self-assurance was well on its way to being mended.
"Sir Merilin, please take a seat." Jareth snapped his fingers to get the guard's attention and instantly a chair was brought and set at the table, along with a silver goblet.
The goblet drew everyone's attention.
"Sir Merilin came in secret to the Castle at my insistence." It wasn't a lie, only a half-truth. "I had a proposition for him and he has very gracefully accepted. Sir Merilin, I ask you once again, in the eyes of all these people, if you will consent to representing the Underground in the Kingdom of the Outlands."
"The Outlands?"
"Lord Gildred of the Sky," Jareth pointed out, "He does not want his people to forget their roots, so they will remain as Outlaws, Exiles. Yet, not officially so, if you understand. Therefore, the Outlands. Merilin?"
The elf picked up the goblet and lifted it silently to Jareth's waiting gaze. Then he drained it. There was no outbreak of cheering, no shouting and gaiety in the hall. The elves allowed self-satisfaction and pride to curl their lips while the other races looked nonplussed and scratched their heads to know why an elf had been selected from all the other races.
Such an act of acceptance was an old tradition and one that dated back many generations. It had been Jareth's idea to use it; Merilin would have preferred something a little less pompous. After all, Merilin didn't quite hold to the tradition. As he put it, "How exactly is a drink of wine supposed to symbolize acceptance?"
Jareth's answer had been, "Accepting the drink means accepting the conditions of the drink. Usually because people were starved of food and water until they eventually capitulated to the demands of whatever power-hungry lord happened to be bribing them with a cup of diluted wine to quench the burning thirst."
Put like that, Merilin didn't so much mind drinking down the cup of wine. In any case, it was ceremonial and there was not enough to cloud his senses. He put down the goblet, which was instantly whisked away by an anxious servant already muttering under his breath about priceless silver being ruined, and gratefully took a seat. A hand on his arm was all the congratulations that Cruin afforded him in public.
"Sir Merilin will leave with Lord Gildred," Jareth said blandly, "And he will begin the enormous task of integrating with the new Outland King's Court. He will make arrangements of trade and apprise us of the best items with which to start such a system. And then he will liaison with the relevant agents to arrange infrastructure and criminal exchange programs."
It was a large job. Merilin's real job, naturally, was to provide Jareth with any and all information that he could pick up. Particularly concerning Madigh and Luka. Jareth wanted to know where the fae was, and why Madigh had trusted in his scheming. Jareth also wanted to know what Merilin's new plan would be.
"So noted, Your Majesty," Gonzo said quietly.
Jareth nodded down at the dwarf and then looked back up sternly. Noll had had immense news for him the evening before. Over a game of taron, he had heard something that made him unable to stop thinking for the rest of the night. "Now. What was being said about blackmail?"
The assembly looked sheepish, but a young female centaur hesitantly signalled her willingness to speak. The Goblin King waved his hand in approval.
"Your Majesty, as I am one of the primary victims of this scandal, I would like to be the first to give my story."
Jareth sat up straight and leaned forward, eyeing this decent looking young female as if he had never seen her before. She was a newcomer, as far as his reign went, and was usually silent. He could swear he had never heard such a musical voice before. "A story is usually fiction," he commented, "Tell me the facts."
She nodded and took a deep breath. "I received a letter, Your Majesty," she began, "A letter that detailed certain things about my mother's family that were private. Certain, ah, discrepancies? Things that could be misconstrued, at any rate. And this letter claims that in three months more letters will arrive at the living quarters of every influential person in my herd, telling them of this information. In six months, it will be sent to the rest of the Underground."
Jareth tightened his lips. "I see. I assume you could not just tell us what this information is? It will protect you from future embarrassment."
"The information is not against myself, Your Majesty, but my mother's family. I am loathe to do so unless in an emergency."
Jareth nodded. "How many others in this room have received a letter?" he asked. Eight more hands went up. Almost one in each race. All unknowns too, but all with the look of honest, conscientious people. The kind of people that inspired the rest of the country to trust the manipulative bastards that governed it. Very important people as far as safety and peace went. Jareth picked one at random.
The earth sprite lifted up a roll of parchment in his brown fingers and said clearly, "This is the one that I received, Your Majesty. I was not myself even aware of this information until the letter arrived. I cannot corroborate it as yet and I refuse to believe it."
Jareth took a look and understood why. The earth sprite's sister stood accused of poisoning her attendant, knowingly. Jareth rolled it up tightly and walked down to Gonzo's table. Silently, he sealed the parchment shut and held it up. "I will investigate," he warned, "this will not be forgotten. Tell your sister that it will be in her best interests to confess, should this be true. As it stands, no one else will read what lies in this letter, and no one else will be informed."
Gonzo nodded and said, "So noted," once again, formally ending the discussion.
But Jareth's eyes turned to the fae lady sitting so quiet, trusting by instinct that something was not right with her. From the look on Crase's face, the other male fae had the same instinct. Jareth trusted his instincts; he also knew that Jervohl's previous fiancé was a very good judge of character. But he turned away and didn't make much of it.
"If there is anyone with any information as to this business, let me know. A note delivered to my study can arrange a meeting or give me the information. It may be anonymous. Or, the bold amongst you can come to the study directly and tell me whatever it is you know. I shall expect someone by the day's end."
He went back to his stone seat and sat down. "Back to business. The End of Year draws nearer. We must plan public festivities. I plan to increase the budget for all the races by ten percent. I think we can do with a good day out."
The Council proceeded much as he had expected. People argued. People abused each other. But people got work done. So long as he kept them driving relentlessly in the right direction, and let them have a few minutes to hurl insults at each other's ancestors once in a while, they were very productive. But Jareth was glad that Toby had not been there. The mortal was beginning to ask questions about Merilin and the mysterious meeting between that elf and the outlaw Toby believed to be Madigh.
The Goblin King sat down in his study and for the fourth time in as many days wondered why he still kept a photograph of Sarah on his desk. He was passed this. One dream in a matter of a month was progress. He told himself he wouldn't throw it out, but moving it to another table would certainly be wiser.
In the midst of solving that knotty problem, there was a knock upon the door. Gonzo stood there, hopping from foot to foot and red-faced. He held out a letter and dropped a bow at the same time. Jareth took the letter.
"Who sent it?" he asked.
"It was left on my table," the dwarf said.
Jareth nodded and ripped it open. He read the first line." Call out the guards," he said slowly, his eyes scanning faster down the page, "Call them out! Now! Move!"
The Goblin King swept into Jervohl's room and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her forcibly away and into the Lady Pandora's suite. He sent a goblin for both Toby and Gildred.
"Have the Castle surrounded," he ordered his men, "I want guards outside the Lady's suite. Gather all the Council members in the Reception Hall and keep them there! Give them weapons if any of them can fight. Go! Go! Don't stand there like morons!"
The guards raced around. The servants were all sent down to the kitchens, which was really the safest place in the entire Castle. There were underground passages that led into the Labyrinth's oubliette system. The Labyrinth recognized its own. The goblins would be safe there.
Gildred met Jareth as the Goblin King ran up to get back to the most important person in the Castle. The redheaded outlaw was on his way down. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"You are about to invade us and kill my sister," Jareth said grimly, "And you are about to die as well. Have your weapons brought to you, My Lord. I have no guards to spare for a personal escort. Toby!" He slammed the door open so fast it rebounded back into Gildred's face. He counted people and went stiff. "Where is Toby?" came the quiet question.
"N- no one sees him, Your Majesty," a guard shivered. The guards could stand an invasion, but a furious Goblin King was unpredictable and death was not always a blessing he doled out.
Even Pandora didn't waste time asking questions when Jareth raised his hand to his eyes, fighting to keep his temper in check. "Where was he last seen?"
"I-I-I d-d-d-don't k-know," the goblin stammered, shaking so hard his armour rattled.
"Right." The hand didn't lower just yet. Jareth was in a dilemma. He couldn't prove his powers but with Luka roaming the Underground, Toby was either in great danger or would be a part of it. Either way, he preferred to get the mortal safely where he could keep an eye on him. So he swept out mentally, scanning the countryside.
The Labyrinth was silent, which still puzzled him and actually proved quite terrifying. The ancient structure has always been the best protection the Underground had had. There were no groups converging on the Castle that he could tell. He could 'see' no one. But he could see Toby, and the mortal was already making his way back. And there was something wrong.
"He is outside," he snapped, dropping his hand and stalking to the door, "Take his sword and send two soldiers out to him. Now. Bring him to me. Nowhere else- to me! Do you understand?"
The goblin nodded and make quick work of his escape. Jareth stared moodily at the door in the silence, still flying out above the lands, keeping watch. Gildred shushed Jervohl when the latter tried to ask a question. Gildred would know; his medallion operated in the same way. He kept absolute quiet in the room.
Pandora surprisingly didn't ask questions. From logical deduction, Jareth wouldn't call out the guards unless it was important. And he wouldn't look so furious if it was not dire. She touched Eloise on the shoulder and the goblin lady carefully made her way to the door to the bedroom. It was lucky for her that Jareth's attention was focused beyond the Labyrinth, where people were beginning to detach themselves from the crowd of living organisms and advance. He could see them now. Assassins the lot of them; not even Gildred's common guard but true assassins of the type that all feared.
He lifted his head and looked at Gildred. The other already knew because his eyes were flashing fire and his lips had tightened. "Yours," Jareth said shortly, "Bodyguards."
Gildred nodded once and made for the door. "Your guards can do what they do best," he snapped tightly, "Leave my assassins to me. I shall have their eyes strung on a chain before the day is out." Opening the door he disappeared for exactly a count of three before reappearing, looking most annoyed. "Where in hell is my general? Are you dreaming, Jervohl, or have your senses deserted you?"
The female was moving before the words were over, moving even as she thought to look to Jareth. Because she wasn't Gildred's general any more. Or at least, she had resigned that position and her brother might have a lot to say about her return to it. But Jareth nodded at her and followed on their tail, already caught by something else.
"Mother, stay here. I shall have guards put at your door. They will not touch you." He held her gaze for a long moment, hoping she did not see shades of his father's death in this, and then left quickly. Toby was out there and so were assassins. Sarah would kill him if her baby brother were hurt! What was he saying? He would kill Luka is the man was hurt.
He grabbed at the sword his bodyguard handed him and irritably pushed the goblin out of his way. He had always hated armour and he hadn't taken the time to be fitted for it. He buckled it on and made for the door.
Gildred held a quick, silent meeting in the corridor outside the Lady's room. Braan was put on the corridor, hidden up on the niche where a large stone jar had been set. Dervina went down to the entrance doors. Her skills combined with the guards would be more than enough to hold back most of any kind of flood. The other two were posted at various strategic points in the Castle. Jervohl and Gildred were going to work in plain sight. The hoods were pulled down over their faces. They dispersed silently and without fuss.
Pandora waited, ears straining to catch the least sound from her bedroom. When Eloise came back, she rose and went to the guard at the door. "I will be in my bedroom," she said firmly, "I have a dagger in there and I shall be able to stay out of your way."
The guard nodded nervously and let her go. The door was pushed closed until it almost shut.
Jareth didn't break into a run. He waited, in full view, at the Castle's entrance. He had forbidden the guards from being with him and had instead left them inside, waiting to swing the doors open and shut as quickly as possible.
Toby found him very soon, standing there, in black from head to foot with the sunlight glinting on his light blond hair. The dark sheath at his side was all the protection that the Goblin King had to hand and Toby wanted to shout at him for doing something so stupid! Until he realized that Jareth had the medallion around him neck, with more defences than anyone else in the Kingdom could hope for.
He was almost up the stairs. Jareth had caught sight of him, but had just resumed that inward look again, frowning and straightening in alarm. A familiar sight broke through the City just to the mortal's left. Toby almost broke stride as Hoggle came running out, breathless and almost falling over he was so agitated.
"Y- Your Maj… ass- ass-a-a- assass…"
"Yes, yes, I know. What are you doing here?"
Hoggle's legs gave out and he sat down on the stone step at Jareth's feet, nursing an agonizing stitch in his side. "The Safe-S-S- Safety Path!"
"Get him in," Jareth ordered, "Hurry! They're almost upon us."
Toby grabbed Hoggle by the arm, muttered an apology in advance and dragged him in as the doors opened. He barely avoided getting Hoggle's toes caught in the subsequent slam shut. "Sorry," he said again, panting himself, "Jareth, what's going on? The guards are still out there."
"No, Sire." Juko saluted smartly as he presented himself to his King. "Got them in the back way."
"I told them to bring him to me," Jareth said slowly.
Toby shook his head. "Gave them the slip, Jareth. I went after something I heard."
The Goblin King's head came up sharply, staring straight into those blue eyes that were shadowed so harshly. There was a reason Toby sounded like that. Something had happened. Something, as he had sensed before, was wrong. "Tell me," he said tersely.
"There is nothing to tell you."
"Toby, do not lie to me now."
"There is nothing to tell you."
Jareth controlled himself. The guards were taking steps back, hoping not to draw his eye. Because if he decided to take his anger out on one of them… They might not exist as they had before.
"Upstairs," Jareth said shortly, "I have no time to waste on you."
Toby looked even more troubled, but he said nothing. He wouldn't look Jareth in the eye, even as the Goblin King turned to shout something out to the guards. It was only on the stairs that he spoke- "I killed him."
The Goblin King didn't stop. "Whom?"
"The assassin. There were two. I heard them talk. I killed one."
Jareth nodded and offered a tight smile over his shoulder. "Was that what you could not tell me? Stupid brat. As if I would judge you. As if you should care if I did."
"I do care. For no real reason. But it was not the one I killed that has me worried. It was the one I let go."
"I am sure you fought as well as you could. These are trained killers, Toby. You are good, but they are better. I would not expect you to stop them both. No one would."
Toby said nothing more. He was in despair. His head was in a whirl and things had been said. Things that made him feel as if his world was not completely spinning out of control. And the Goblin King was not much help. Not that he expected it; Jareth had enough to worry about without thinking of him as well. But Toby somehow suspected that Jareth would have dropped everything if he were Sarah. Toby didn't want to be Sarah, but the principle was that he was worried and ashamed and trying to speak of it even when all he wanted to do was keep his head down and say nothing, praying it would all go away.
"He was trying to warn you, Your Majesty. About me."
The charmer at the top of the staircase was leaning casually against the balustrade, arms crossed and bitter smile on his face. Brown eyes glittered down into wide mismatched ones. Jareth was astonished and Luka took full note of it; it was a rare occurrence.
The Goblin King drew his sword instantly, and Luka drew his. Jareth moved, putting his back to the balustrade where he could keep an idea on both Toby and Luka. He cursed himself for being so caught up in the business of the Council that he had not checked on his Kingdom before. And he cursed himself for being in this position between two traitors.
But Toby didn't draw his sword. He kept his hands loosely to his sides, even as he kept his face upturned. He didn't look at Luka. He looked to Jareth, mutely waiting for some reaction, some derision, something. Jareth obviously knew, now, didn't he? Couldn't he? He was the Goblin King. He always knew.
But Jareth looked at him with no sign of understanding on his face. Indeed, he looked angry, betrayed and spiteful. "I feared this," he murmured, "I hoped you would not, but you have."
"Oh, stop the theatrics, my dear," Luka snapped, "He has done nothing very much. You should thank him. He tried to save your sorry hide."
Jareth didn't comment. He didn't need to. Gildred was already moving and since the Outlands King was on a lower level, it was Toby he first came to. Toby was forced to draw his sword when Gildred almost beheaded him. Jareth lowered his own blade and watched, cold and silent. He had no real opinion on the matter. If Toby were to be killed, Jareth would not particularly mourn. Not now. Goblin King did not like backstabbers.
Jervohl came by the clash of swords to the scene, startled when she saw who it was that her fiancé fought. Toby had only his advantage of higher ground and strength. And yet his considerable length made it harder for his defences to accurately protect him. Jervohl didn't wait for explanations. Especially when another sword threatened to skewer her. Luka was better than she gave him credit for.
Jareth watched both pairs and put his own weapon away. He folded his arms and waited. In both cases, one of them would emerge victorious. If it was Gildred and Jervohl- and he had every reason to believe it would be- then he would not be unhappy. If either Luka or Toby managed to win… Jareth was most dangerous when he used his magic. And he was planning to use his magic on them. He did not plan to let them live.
"You see, Toby? Where is his justice now? He has abandoned you to death, whichever way it comes to you," Luka shouted.
"Shut up!"
Jareth raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes. Especially when Toby spun from his opponent in a panic-stricken temper and hurled his sword down the stairwell. The mortal was shouting, dropping to his knees and offering his neck so willingly that Gildred's fateful blade halted. Words slipping from Fae to English to Goblin. Shouting so loud that Jareth's cold distance snapped in half.
Striding to the mortal and grabbing his chin, forcing him to look up. "Stop it," Jareth warned, "Repeat yourself in saner fashion."
"Sane?" Toby's voice now dropped to a whisper. "You have no idea what sane is. You, who can twist words to make them living things in themselves! You lie and cheat and change from moment to moment. Give me one good reason why I should ever trust you."
Jervohl deftly used the distraction to viciously slash fingers hard enough to make Luka drop his sword.
Toby didn't look up even at the loud curse. "Why should I take your word over his. He speaks the truth. You use people. You admit it to me. You hold power over them and scheme and plot to have your way with them. Why should I trust you when I cannot trust my…" he faltered.
"Boyfriend?" Jareth completed dryly. He waited, watching blue eyes grow ice and turn to storm. Watching the play of emotions over the plain, honest face. "Stupid brat," he said feelingly. Grabbing a hold of the man's shirt and forcing him to rise. "Stop kneeling. You look ridiculous down there. Can you stand? Here. Give me your arm."
"Arrest me. I let an assassin live. He almost killed you and those you love. He plotted your downfall. The law states…"
"Does he always quote the law at you?" Gildred asked in interest.
Jareth shook his head in rueful resignation. "Only when he is overwrought," he excused.
Luka smirked to himself at the exchange. Toby had forgotten his very existence. Luka had thought he had seen the same affection in those eyes that had been there last. But the man was pressing close to the Goblin King's side, a hand on his shoulder and his breathing easier now that Jareth had stopped accusing him.
Luka had one last chance. Now. When Jervohl's face was turn. He twisted away, his sleeve catching on the sharp tip but his light feet danced him out of range with graceful quickness and he was away, fleet as the wind down the corridor. Jervohl gave chase. Gildred went after her.
Jareth summoned a crystal. "Watch," he said.
Toby looked down and his hand tightened on the slender shoulder. "May I ask for one thing?" he ventured. Jareth didn't give the least hint of having heard him. "Do not hurt him. Please."
"I will do the needful. Now watch."
It was the best Toby could hope for. Luka wouldn't make it. Braan intercepted him and from the sounds of things, the assassins below were ably taken care of by the guards. A disturbing view on efficiency, Toby thought sluggishly, it took a legion of guards to take down the same number of assassins that three outlaws had handled. He slumped and Jareth pushed him to lean against the wall.
The sudden scream of pain echoed enough to bring both men to startled attention. The Lady? They both took off; fear giving Toby the energy to forget his drained emotions. They got to the room just as Braan did. The guards outside of it were prone on the floor. One was dead, another was moaning in pain and the third was injured and unconscious. The door stood open and another guard lay dead just inside.
But more than the guard was a sight Jareth had never thought to see in his life. A dark, sallow, strangely unappealing fae was lying on the floor, hand still clutching the bloodied scimitar. The crossbow bolt in his back looked painful and the blood was horrific. From the black cloak he wore to the vague descriptions Jareth had received, the Goblin King could only reach one conclusion- "Madigh, I suppose?"
"Dead," Gildred said simply.
"Yes, he certainly is. Toby, take that crossbow out of my mother's hand. My Lady, just what exactly do you think you are doing?"
"Assassins are not the only ones who shoot to kill," Pandora said brutally. She relinquished the crossbow readily enough. "Eloise, you may come out now."
