A little-known fact about Fae is their attachment to family. The familial bond is the strongest bond in their culture. This phenomenon is brought about by the rarity and mortality rate of their children. A Fae couple will conceive every twenty to thirty years and only a half of those babies will see life outside the womb. Another half will die before they reach their first birthday. A child that lives is a treasure worth more than a kingdom.

This is the story of a king who lost both.

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Jareth was, by all accounts, a selfish man. He had no friends, no family, no restraints beyond the laws of the land, and no taxing responsibilities. His entire life consisted of minding and bogging drunk goblins who's only entertainment was the abuse of alcohol and chickens.

Considered a general outcast from the whole Fae society, he entertained himself with the mild torture of his poor subjects, who feared and adored him no matter what, and temporary jaunts into the Upperground. His "human" form was very pleasing the eye of human women, often acquiring him stimulating company for the evening.

It was on one of these jaunts that he met Karen Williams, a miserable housewife. She told him her tale of woe and dissatisfaction. She was married to an average man and had a teenager stepdaughter who hated her. She was out on a girls' weekend with a few friends and wanted to love life for one night before she returned to her unhappy existence.

She was pretty enough with her blonde hair and nice figure. She wanted to love her life and he wanted to forget his life. They were, in that moment, a match made in heaven. He conveniently ignored her as she took off her ring that night in their hotel room and tried to silence his dying conscience that tried to tell him this was a bad idea.

She fell into his arms most willingly, giving him all he asked for and expecting all she asked for in return. She received that and more at his capable hands. As the sun rose and he left her behind, he had the nagging feeling he was leaving something with her. But, his mind told him to ignore that gut feeling and so he left her with a kiss and a fond farewell and no memories of the night. For all she knew, she'd gone home to her hotel room with her girlfriends and slept off a liquor filled night.

As the months went by, the nagging feeling grew. Confused, he checked back on her and saw her proudly showing off a baby bump to her friends. The longer he looked at her slightly protruding stomach, the stronger the feeling grew, turning into a bond that was firmly attached to his heart.

The child was his.

His first thought was for Karen. She had no idea that she would very likely lose her child, the one that she was so proud of. The chances of the child surviving to birth were nearly non-existent and past birth…his child didn't have much better chances.

Despite all this, he found himself watching the woman, watching her stomach grow by the month. He caught himself wondering if it was a boy or girl and what she would want to name it. He hoped it wasn't something foolish or regrettable as 80s women were wont to do. Maybe it would be a name that held meaning to her family?

Now more than ever, he wished he could touch wills and bent intents. He could change memories and implant things that wouldn't change much in humanity's timeline, but he couldn't change a human's will. So, he watched and waited.

The first few months, he worried himself nearly sick over the baby, waiting for the moment when he'd view them through the crystal and find Karen weeping over the loss of his baby. But it never happened.

Nine months after their fateful union, a healthy baby boy was born.

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Toby was a handsome fellow with blue eyes and blond hair. His "father" never questioned the coloring since his wife was a blue-eyed blond. He said that his son just took after his wife. An easy explanation that his wife believed without question as she didn't remember their passion-fueled union.

As for Jareth, he honestly didn't care about Karen. If she had been a single woman without anyone who would miss her, he would have simply whisked her off her feet and carried her and his newborn son back to the Goblin Kingdom. But, she was married with a step-daughter and friends who would notice her absence.

He only cared about his son, the beautiful Toby, as his mother had chosen to call him. Jareth never figured out if the name was a family name or some name she just liked but it didn't matter that much to him. It was a nice enough name.

For the first few months, he spent his nights by his son's crib and sang Underground lullabies to him. To the boy, it sounded like a distance melody from far away soothing him to sleep but to Jareth it was intensely comforting and bond-building.

Bond-building – the last thing he should be doing with the child who'd never know about his real father. There were rules against communicating with half-breeds in good human homes. If the child was in severe danger or the human parent required assistance, the Fae parent could step in but, until then, the Fae was to remain invisible and not interfere with the child's raising.

And, for now, Toby was happy, healthy, and loved in his home. The wife beyond doted on him and the husband even approved. The young step-daughter was yet to be determined as she didn't spend much time around the child. Besides, most girls liked babies, so it was unlikely that abuse would spring from anyone in this household.

Nevertheless, he waited and watched, anticipating his son's first birthday, a sign that his chances to live to adulthood were very high.

But, as the baby grew older and out of the cute stage that everyone loved, his mother started to go out with her friends again, leaving the child to the minding of the step-daughter or strangers. Horrified, Jareth was never far away when someone other than the mother was minding him.

For a Fae, giving your child into the hands of someone other than a parent was unheard of unless in dire situations. He'd been left to the care of his sister only once and that when his mother was deathly sick and his father at war. Even then, solemn words had been exchanged about the situation and his sister had understood completely the trust being placed in her hands.

Not only did this happen every week, but also the step-sister hated her duty. (The babysitter was a bit better, only she spent far too much time on the phone talking to her boyfriend and generally ignoring his son.)

The things the sister called her brother were completely unacceptable! After one particularly rough evening, Jareth returned to his Kingdom and composed a book. He couldn't change the minds of humans, but he could plant things to encourage them in one direction or another. With the step-sister's belief in the mythological, it wouldn't be hard to convince her to, at least jokingly, wish away her brother.

Once wished away, Toby would be his. He would have his son to hold and to raise. His only child, his heir would be safe and happy in the arms of his real father. The goblins wouldn't be the best influence, and he wouldn't have a mother, but did he have one now? The wife was barely around as it was and the father, while still kind, worked a lot.

It was beyond simple. A perfect ending for both families. They wouldn't have to worry about the child they didn't want, and he would have his son, the most important living thing in the world.

It didn't take more than a month for her to wish away Toby.

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The moment he heard her words, his heart leapt. Mere seconds later, a goblin ran in, carrying the infant in question. He was crying and screaming, upset at the strange creatures around him. Jareth rushed for the baby, scooping him up out of stumpy arms of the reeking goblin. His bond sang as the baby settled into his arms. Even the child recognized it, going quiet immediately and studying the face of his father.

"Welcome home, Toby. Welcome to the Goblin Kingdom." He cooed and reached up to tug at the strands of hair that hung down around the Goblin King's pale pointed face. While he wanted nothing more than to retreat into his suite and show the lad the new room that had been built solely for him, he had to go finish his duty. There were rules about wishing away. Looking about, he called on his captain, a completely trustworthy goblin.

"Hold him until I return. I shan't be long." Tossing a crystal, he disappeared in a puff of glitter, leaving the goblin and his son frozen in time.

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The unbelievable little chit! He stormed back into the throne room and snatched his son from the frozen goblin's arms. The boy shivered as he was extracted from timelessness and looked up at the Goblin King's furious face with a worried expression.

"She's coming after you, you know that? She thinks I'll let her take you away from me. You're mine, Toby, you're my prince, my son, my heir. I love you like they never could. They want nothing to do with you, but I won't abandon you."

The baby gurgled and reached up again to tug at his father's hair. Bending his down low enough the boy could reach the white-gold strands, the Goblin king walked to his throne and sat down. Toby settled against his father's chest and found the pendant around his neck very entertaining.

"You'll wear this one day, one day when you become Goblin King." Because of his human blood, his son would grow quicker than most Fae and die younger. Yet, here in the Undergound, he wouldn't age like his mother's people, remaining youthful and handsome well into his several hundreds, but the millennia of his father would be beyond him.

Did it matter right now though? He wasn't yet two. It would be enough time. He would have to marry young. Jareth would choose a perfect wife who could love his son and give him many children. Maybe the human blood would encourage procreation.

The King found it so easy to plan for the future as it rested in his arms.

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He did everything he could within the strict and strange rules of the Labyrinth runners…and still failed. When she said the words, his world shattered. His son, his pride and joy, gone. Back to the humans who couldn't love him.

Over the thirteen hours, he'd found some respect for Sarah though, the "unbelievable little chit" of a girl who had dared to challenge him from his son. Whether it was misplaced loyalty or fear of her parents, or, the deities forbit, actual love for Toby, she wouldn't give up.

Now, he sat on the branch outside the window, peering in at his son, once more separated from him by glass and unbreakable rules.

If owls could cry, he would have wept an ocean. What did children matter to humans? They could easily have another or adopt one that someone else didn't want? Why did they have to take his? His life, his heart, his everything?

His son.

The pain in his chest racked him as he took flight, sailing towards the moon.

His future lay in a mortal crib, condemned to chopped-off life. He wouldn't see his two hundredth birthday, dying in the childhood of a Fae's life.

A cry of pure agony ripped through the sky as a father mourned his son.