A/N: Onto what you're probably waiting on, now!
Lylabeth- If you see this, I love your reviews and would love to discuss your questions if you can PM me?
Also, apologies for missing American terms. I'm Scottish!

A hoarse yell filled the room, the pounding of fists thrumming against solid wood... the desperate wheeze of a man struggling for a breath that his throat denies him. The roar of blood thrumming through his mind...

"You see, Xavior, wine is supposed to be sipped. Not quaffed like a cheap ale and then inhaled."

The captain of the guard looked up at the amused faces surrounding him at the vast table, bleary eyes laden with unspilled tears caused by his violent choking as a ripple of laughter rose. Waving them away with a choice gesture, his gauntleted hands unclenched from where they had been repeatedly hitting off the solid oak and flattened as he forced himself to relax. Jareth sat grinning like a cat across from him, his own leather-bound hand still curled around the crystal glass filled with an almost black liquid where Xavior's glasses lay in splintered smithereens somewhere off to the side. Even as he managed to suck in a true breath, a servant appeared to clear up the still singing remains, unacknowledged by the rest of the room's inhabitants.

"Hilarious..." He rasped, forcibly clearing his now raw throat to stave off any further choking, "... you... neglected to mention... how spicy it is... when it was discussed, friend."

The blonde merely lifted a shoulder, eyes trained intently on him as he drained the last of his own drink and carefully set the goblet down again.

"You are out of practice. If I recall precisely, I never got a chance to mention anything that day for you were too preoccupied with tellings of a certain... lady."

The rest of the guard erupted in catcalls and peals of laughter, Xaviour himself allowing a weak smile, but it died down as the great doors at the far left of the hall swung open. Another servant appeared to replace the fallen glass and to decant more of the mysterious beverage into it and Jareth's now empty one, but were quickly dismissed by a gloved hand as they all turned in their seats to watch the procession of the person striding towards them. Jareth's fingers lay on either side of the crystal stem as his mismatched gaze focused intently on the shaggy head of the young Fae all but running towards them, tapping so lightly that the hum his fingertips caused was almost indiscernible. Within seconds, the boy made it to the end of their table and swung himself forward in a bow, nearly smacking his head off of the far end where the pitcher had been place.

Someone sniggered and he blushed, but didn't straighten until Xavior sighed and set the glass that was halfway to his mouth back to the table.

"That was a near miss, Cleary. I nearly winced," The Captain adressed him wearily, rubbing at his temple, "Stand. State your business. You are in the prescence of a King, so mind your manners."

Cleary straightenedd as if attached to a drawbridge, swallowing thickly as his eyes immediately fell on said King then danced away to stare straight at the brick wall in front of him. Jareth looked away disinterested, eyes now trained on the rich burgundy in his hand as the sun coming in from the arched window above them bounced off of a Guard's discarded helm into the crystal. A frigidly cold air had swept in alongside Cleary and as he began to speak he felt in settle onto the bare skin of his forearms where his sleeves had ridden up. It was early morning, barely broken 6 o'clock, and he had been up most of the night with his friends. It had been a welcome change from the solitary space he had flown in from although not originally welcomed. It was strange to sit with those he had trained with. Fought with. Grown up with. For he was now superior to them in rank and responsibilities... due to a mistake...

"... prescence once the Queen breaks her fast, in the West Wing. King J-Jareth is requested to arrive in manner befitting his rank, fitted in casual regalia. Er... and the High King asks unofficially that he leave his," Cleary broke off, wincing as his eyes scanned over the last sentence again, "...His 'little whip' behind in his quarters for it shall not be required."

The men broke out in raucous yells and laughter yet again, clapping the blonde monarch on the back with enough force that he was pushed forward and nearly spilled his drink. Xavior let out a loud 'HAA' as he all but fell off his bench in drunken mirth and Cleary all but tried to run away in a flurry of startled movements.

Jareth let out a single quiet chuckle, rising from his seat. The others quickly fell silent yet again, save for the Captain who really had fallen at this point and hadn't seen anything besides the rows of boots under the benches, and looked up at him as he gracefully stepped from the table and walked around it towards the young messenger.

"Acknowledged- Cleary, is it?"

The goblet changed into a Crystal sphere and he shot him a grin as placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Prudent for me not to keep our lady waiting, then. Our Queen is an early riser and will have arrived far earlier than agreed, as always."

The sphere was thrown and he disappeared, leaving a small shower of gold glitter in his place.

The Halls of Aurea was mostly made from Crystal, one of the main reasons why Terauramulis had gotten it's name. Cleverly crafted so the occupants could see outside with stunning clarity, but outsider's could not see in. A Palace of candour, of light, as those who held it in such rapture viewed it. Indeed even the reigning Monarch's swore to uphold such beliefs and faiths, but Jareth saw it in rather a different perspective. It was a place of lies, that spoke of freedom but gave none, that was stained with blood so deeply that the stone was lying with being so pale. Where others saw peace and tranquility he saw schemes and arguments, for he had witnessed the latter and not the former growing up. His heels echoed through the bright halls as he cast a faint shadow into the wall to his right, his eyes ignoring the sprawling view of the city to his left, for he had no interest in it. What would the view give him, except pain? What would distractions from what lay ahead do in aid of him, when staving off the inevitable brought more tension?

Sarah would have liked it here. He could almost imagine her walking these halls in front of him, challenging him with eyes that were almost too green-

'Silence! She is but a drain on my resources, a thorn in my side that buries itself ever deeper. To think on her is to bleed for her, and she has no need for such attention. Nor do I.'

His pace picked up, the markings of his race that framed his eyes shimmering in the light like glittering sand. He was Fae. He had a duty to his people and to himself. He had a world that had no room for mortals to acquiesce his efforts unto now for he had procrastinated for too long. His realm was dying, and only he could save it. To save it was to save himself. A King could not betray and sacrifice so many thousands of lives for the sake of one that had broken him.

He had survived, these past years. It was now time to live once more. A wave of a gloved hand saw his open shirt and untucked breeches shift into his usual attire- save for the leather jerkin- and the pendant he never took off was stowed within the confines and out of view.

The doors to the Queen's Quarters appeared in front of him and he veered right, away from the transparent walls that called to the rebellious part of him. As he arrived at the West Wing, he didn't hesitate before sliding in through the doors soundlessly, never allowing for a pause that could allow him to turn back. A singular feather fell from him as the door swung shut and drifted back up the corridor on the breeze the door had caused.

"Jareth! Look at you; I had heard that you were up to all hours drinking, again. I see now that such tales cannot be true for you aren't wavering where you stand... like last time."

He looked around at where his Aunt Yennifer stood off to the side, looking slightly anxious though he rather imagined that was mostly due to excitement. Every other time she had managed to lure him in here for this purpose he had found a way to evade her. But this time he had come to her of his own violition. This time he was the instigator. Time was up.

The deep mauve of her dress brought out the colours of her eyes as she beamed at him and somehow he managed to hold her gaze for a hairsbreadth longer than usual before looking off to the side. Somehow she was always pleased to see him. Even after everything that had transpired in the past. It hurt worse than the scorn that should have radiated from her in place of her smiles.

"... My Uncle speaks of the women you seem to have hand picked for my betrothal. Do I have the luxury of speaking to them first or do you propose I choose one out of a line up?"

The question was out without much thought, his tone edged, but his Aunt merely frowned at him with apparent disappointment.

"This business with mortals... it has begun to make you crass, dear nephew. My husband exaggerates; I have but two in mind," She walked across the carpet in front of him, stopping him from the pacing he hadn't realised he had been doing as she sighed, "But unfortunately only one of them deigned to show up. Lady Aislinn LeTrommluĂ­, of the Isle of Nocte. Her Mother was a Ward of the Northern Plains that Baran now governs. Your... mother... assures me that Aislinn will be to your liking."

One of the Queen's hands hurried in front of them to get the door as they headed for the antechamber in which the Lady was waiting for them, but Yennifer hung back after a few steps to allow Jareth to lead the way. The feeling that rose in him was once more quashed so the sensation of numbness swept in to fill it's void, ridding thoughts and judgements from his mind before they formed. His and his Kingdom's future was on the other side of that door. As if a bird on a wing, he swept into the room to claim it.

The door swung shut behind him with a faint click, sealing the pair in with a note of finality. Yennifer hadn't elected to follow him inside.

The wall on the far side of the room was made up of floor-to-ceiling latticed windows that drank most of the light filtering in, leaving where he entered darker than the end stood opposite. Silhouetted in front of them was the aforementioned Lady of Nocte, adorned in a silk and velvet gown of spun silver and lilac. She didn't turn as he moved further into the room, her gaze calmly continuing to roam the scenery laid out before her. The dimmed sunlight graced her pale skin and high cheekbones giving her the appearance of an ethereal glow, turning her pinned tresses into a rich gold. Trademark features of one from the Northern Plains, if not for her stature. That spoke of the city in which they currently stood, potentially belying her lineage. His Aunt had spoken of the Isle's, which fell under the Northern Plains sector, but something about her appearance didn't fit entirely within that blanket term. Where the Northern Fae had wider hips for child bearing due to their higher rate of fertility, Aislinn was slight. Petite. Her hands spoke of letter writing, not equestrianism, which was a second clue.

As one... she was beautiful. Stunningly so.

Where Sarah was dark, she was light. Refreshing, with a beauty like a snowy landscape with clear skies.

Jareth's mind didn't acknowledge the comparison as he crossed more than half the room. He was enthralled like he hadn't been in decades. He was-

"The clouds almost look like a lake, from this altitude. Serene... but with a dangerous beauty that almost tricks the mind into thinking they might spill over and encompass the homes that stand before them," She finally said, cutting through the haze he was in with an almost melodic voice, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Jareth."

She turned, and Jareth found himself pinned in place by a pair of violet eyes as she pulled them from Terauramulis to fix on him, and then smiled. Something tugged at him, almost as if a hook had ensnared his navel, and without conscious thought he closed the distance between them until he was but a foot away and then bowed. Once straightened again, a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth and he fought to remove his gaze from her to focus on the gardens outside.

"The pleasure is mine, Aislinn. Never have I witnessed such beauty."

Again the numb feeling rose to swallow anything else that tried to raise it's head, though this time it felt that perhaps it had a helping hand from elsewhere. The lady's commentary of the Breach was similar to his own view, and he pushed that to the back of his mind to peruse later instead.

'Jareth'

He froze, eyes flicking about him quickly as Aislinn laughed lightly into the back of her hand, ducking her head in trained modesty. He saw no one and nothing, though a chill ghosted down the skin of his neck like a lover's breath. It felt... familiar. Too familiar. Yet... he had ever heard it spoken by the one it threatened to remind him of...

"You flatter me, my liege."

His eyes snapped back to her, pulling him forcibly back into the present. Why he was in such turmoil on this morn escaped him. There was no reason for him to be so distracted. The matter he was here originally for was being dealt with. Soon... soon he would be free of them forever. Both of them.

"Perchance the tales of your night aren't as false as your Aunt believes?" She continued, stepping towards and then past him with an amused expression, "I tire of this room. Would you accompany me for a walk? I haven't had the leisure to explore Aurea as I had wished."

"It would be an honour, my lady."

She smiled at him again, slipping an arm through his and looking expectant for him to lead them. He did so, placing a gloved hand over where her bare hand rested as he walked them out a side door so they wouldn't have to address his Aunt once more. Their footsteps echoed quietly in the otherwise unfurnished hall as they crossed it, but he made sure the door shut soundlessly behind them so they wouldn't be followed by any remaining sober members of the Guard as they emerged in a small corridor.

It was one of Aurea's main junctions, where a myriad of wings met for ease of... silent, subtle exits. Not many knew about it as the doors were never immediately obvious, but Jareth had long since explored the secrets that the Palace of the Council held. In fact, other than his Uncle and his Father, he was the only other living Fae who knew of the connecting corridor from Aurea to the White Spire. Such knowledge would be catastrophic if known by the general public. If touched... the consequences...

The fact that he even knew in the first place was an accident that had cost him so much. Jareth turned away from that memory, his hand tightening slightly on the other Fae's as he led her through the door directly adjacent and then down a large flight of spiralling stairs. Here, the light was cast by summoned orbs that floated around in the otherwise empty air. The tapestries lining the walls were thrown into relief for moments before the orbs passed, watched raptly by Aislinn as they descended.

"This place... it holds so much history. So much to be marvelled at. Terauramulis must hold our world's most skilled weavers." She commented, her voice carrying in the stairwell.

Jareth spared the objects of her attention a scarce look and swallowed a scoff before looking ahead of him again. They spoke of how Terauramulis had come to be, of the original Fae who had taken the desolate landscape and made it thrive. Where other continents spoke of lush landscapes of rolling grass, trees, nature... Terauramulis had been hewn out of stone. It was the excessive crystal deposits that made the founders settle here, using it to commemorate their future Capital City. The White Spire had been discovered rather than made, thus it's sacred status. A naturally occurring obselisk, the only landmark for hundreds of miles. It was imbued with magic that called to all Fae to a certain degree, without any input from the dwellers. Everywhere else the crystal structures were in various shades of colour as they had been found, reds and blues... greens... but the White Spire was the only crystal that was so pure and untainted that it made everything else pale in comparison. Second to it was Aurea, but there were veins if quartz running through the outer walls that set it apart.

The history had once interested Jareth a great deal. But now that he was a part of it, it had lost its intrigue as he lost his desire to learn more. For those not of the city, like Aislinn, he imagined it might have been breath-taking to see the wall sized murals. For him it was just another picture to break the monotony of the wall beneath and aid in trapping heat within the otherwise cool Palace.

They reached the base of the staircase quicker than Aislinn anticipated, and she frowned at him as he led them through a large archway.

"You're not a man of many words, Jareth, I have come to find."

"I speak when I have something to say, my lady."

"And my presence merits nought?" She countered, looking away from him pointedly, "Do you imagine to find a companion through staunch silence and long walks?"

Jareth clenched his jaw, slowing his pace. "Marriage is for duty to my Kingdom and my line. It is an arrangement of business, not of love or companionship. Forgive me in finding little to offer for conversation." He replied tightly. His crop slid a little in the back of his boot, making a faint sound against the leather, but neither commented on it.

"Yet your Aunt assures me you have much to say in the right company, and that your heart is laden with the love you have to offer but have been denied in the past."

"My past is not up for discussion, I will thank you to remember that," He glanced down at her, lips thinning in his displeasure, "You were raised and counselled in the Northern Plains. I find it hard to believe that you know not that most Fae couplings are borne of responsibility. Whether affection follows depends on the pair. It is not always so."

"Evidently."

Silence fell as they picked up their pace again. Jareth was admittedly on edge from how quickly things had turned sour, but he refused to admit that he could be the one in the wrong. His parents had wed out of duty. His Uncle and Aunt had done the same. He had always known, deep down, that he would follow suit. Even if once he had been momentarily blinded by hope, he had learned the harsh truth of how their world worked. Marriage wasn't all that common an act, but it was the highest form of allegiance and most surefire way to ensure an heir.

Trust his Aunt to find him the one female who would endeavour to fight an agreement she had walked into of her own accord, due to not fully understanding the stakes first. There was little and less to be said of it really at this point. If he didn't marry, he would lose his place in the council and in Terauramulis, would be severing ties with the surrounding Kingdoms. He would be a self titled King only but would have to fend for his land alone. To spend an eternity alone.

"You may not entrust in love, in there being anything more to... to this marriage than the practicals. But I am not you, and I hold my own ideals. And I believe that given time you may just come round to see things from my point of view. I am a patient woman, Jareth. I will wait for as long as it takes." Aislinn suddenly interjected, her voice shaking slightly as if she were warring with herself. Potentially out of disbelief at having the gall to speak to him as she was, but nevertheless.

Her eyes were shining brightly as she slowly raised them to his face, a strained swallow forcing itself down as she dared to raise her chin. The willpower it must have taken to gather the courage to speak out was evident, and he could not hold her gaze as a pang of guilt flashed through him at causing her any distress. This would be as difficult a transition for her as much as him.

"... I apologise for my words. This course of events is such that I have been avoiding for centuries. To live alongside another is an alien concept. My Kingdom is an isolated land." He tried to inject some tone of humour to his words but only succeeded in speaking softly, gentler than he might have liked even with a love one of his family.

She nodded stiffly, lowering her gaze again and looking in front of them. "Now, perhaps, is not the time for such discussions. We have much of this place yet to explore and I know not a thing about you save for your name, your land and your status. Besides, if this atmosphere of hostility does not ease I fear I will tire of your company prematurely."

"Then come; the royal gardens begin outside the next wing. The cool air will make the rest of this walk that much more bearable."

As the pair exited into the gardens, now engrossed in conversation, two pairs of eyes watched solemnly as they passed below their place on the balcony above. Something was said and the lady laughed, placing a hand on the King's chest as she did. The two figures could only look on critically as he grinned down at her instead of removing her hand, escorting her further into the gardens and away from prying eyes such as theirs, then turned to the sky as a raven swept towards them. Whoever the Princess- not Lady, as their Queen had been falsely informed- was, she was apparently wrapping Jareth round her finger faster than any other female they had witnessed him encounter before.

Not quite as fast as tales they'd heard but such tales were banned in Aurea. Indeed, a certain name could earn you a sentence in the Blackreach, 10 miles south of the border. Too many had learned such a lesson the hard way, thus making an example to those who remained.

The raven alighted upon the stone parapet between them in a short flap of wings, earning itself a set of twin amused grins aimed its way. A bright flash of light had them covering their eyes with muffled curses, and when they looked back it was to see Jaque perching on the railing where the bird had been, bouncing on the balls of his black, suede boots. Wearing his own wicked smile with mischievous eyes, he ensconced himself in place crossing his legs and then looked out over the grounds in a picture of bliss. The wind blew past to his his cheeks as it pushed his locks away from his face and pointed ears and he leaned precariously into it as the pair shook their heads.

"I assume you come bearing news? There can be no other reason for you to abandon your post far earlier than ordered without express permission," One addressed him gruffly, the braids in his peppered hair glinting in the light where it caught their fastenings, "And I can assure you we have received no such letter."

"Leave him, Baran. Let him get his breath back before you start demanding things." Arlyn interrupted, mirth still sparkling in his eyes as he settled back against the wall. His head tilted as he took in the scene of Jaque sitting so serenely and had to fight the urge to give him a playful shove off the other side.

Jaque's head turned and he shot them both an endearing smirk, his hands toying with the lip of his boots. "So gracious, as always," He murnured, eyes finally spying Jareth through the trees as he led the Princess towards the water garden, "I do have news. Almost. She has gone home so my position is null and void until she comes back to the University, see? So I came home too. Gets the old man off my back."

Baran snorted but Arlyn lifted a hand to silence him. "As long as he doesn't stray from his position and keeps her protected, your absence will go unnoted. But there is something else, isn't there?"

He nodded. "Considering that school is lying on the border between our realms, it's not surprising to see other Fae there. However what does one do when there's one of... nobility, hanging around close to the target?"

"Nobil..." Baran swore, lifting a hand to his mouth as he turned his back on them. Arlyn similarly balked but kept his ground as Jaque watched them both lazily. "But not one of ours?"

A flash of pointed teeth and the young one shook his head, pulling off his gloves to admire his fingers. "Oh no, definitely not. I have graced the presence of nearly every female in our court during the solstices for a dance. This one was not among them."

The brunet shook his head as Baran stepped forward again, as if adamant to grasp the straw that would lead them to answers. Over the warm air the sound of tinkling laughter lifted to them, and as one they all turned to look in the direction it came from. Laughter in Jareth's company... how... odd.

"Do we have a na-"

"There's more, dear cousin."

Baran's jaw shut with a click and Jaque spun to face them, his long, graceful legs draping over onto the balcony as he rested his hands on either side of him.

"She is having nightmares, again. Not just dreams of our world but of things... impossible things she can't know. Of things that haven't come to pass. Her thoughts scream of them and cloud her eyes. She has grown to fear us."

"You jest, surely. Her place is here, it is..."

Arlyn's brows rose as Baran trailed off, his fierce brow furrowing in a thoughtful frown as he looked between them both.

"Our ancestors, who gave up immorality as you recall in order to keep watch of the doorways into... well, our world? They spark a terrified but fierce ire in her on site. She had Heilyn moved from the main foyer after trying to have him removed completely. Seems to imagine that he's been moving yet I have it on good authority than no ones been using the network. So, the claims weren't taken seriously, naturally, but now he is posted at the end of her dormitory corridor to keep watch over her which has made things worse," Jaque rolled his eyes, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt with a scoff, "The Dean knows nothing, of Sarah or us, but it's only a matter of time. Two nights ago I had to intervene when our lovely mortal decided to venture into the English and Literature department and all but screamed the place to its knees upon seeing Alastrine for the first time."

The drunken guard passed behind them, oblivious of the trio outside the wide doors as they carried Xavior between them towards the keep. They fell silent until they passed, Jaque leaning up to try and peer over the older men's shoulders with blatant curiosity.

"What in Albion-"

"Ignore them. Jareth introduced our Captain to Gregaiovic Wine this morning."

"Excellent! I knew our friend hadn't lost his sense of humour completely- even if he keeps it shut up tighter than his a-"

"You were saying, Caomhánach."

The youth grinned, settling back again. He would investigate later, it would seem.

"I can see why Jareth liked her so much, she's so... fiesty." He began again, much to the elder Fae's annoyance as he let a delicious shudder pass over him with a delighted look, "I had to do some quick improvisation too as dear old Choilleach left his post to come and spy on me. So now I have to focus an art project around precious little Snow White in the hopes that I can influence her judgement on us and get her to forget the hawk that so clearly was staring at her through a window. Otherwise i rather imagine the Autumn Solstice dance will go over as well as Baran's attempts to woo Lady Nareene at our last Harvest gathering."

That earned him another glare but he merely shrugged in response.

"...Eanraig should be notified." Arlyn finally said, rubbing at his beard distractedly.

"And bring his unbridled wrath down upon us? Did you not hear what I just said? I made contact, Arlyn. Eanraig just wants her kept an eye on."

"So you would have us lie, when he calls for a report? The fae cannot lie or have you taken leave of your senses?"

The three of them looked away from each other to various parts of the grounds or Aurea, the very real problem hanging between them.

"Twist the truth. She made contact, I allowed it for sake of saving our hides. So long as nothing else goes wrong we should be fine."

Baran was the first to make the move to leave, the fur of his overcoat shoftong further up his neck. "If we only knew what the endgame was, we could plan accordingly. What is the fate of the mortal, where does her destiny lie?"

Arlyn nodded, looking back to the open skies overhead. "We may never know. For now I will take my leave; and Jaque? Try and stay out of trouble?"

His layered clothes wrapped over him from head to toe, twisting smaller until a bird appeared and took flight, leaving the pair behind.

"He always to get in the last word, doesn't he."

Baran walked over, grabbing Jaque by the shoulder firmly and leading him away back into the halls with his usual scowl in place. They walked in silence, using the shortcuts to the base level to ensure anyone waylaying them and finally they turned out of the grand arched doors located at the back of the council to nip through the gardens to the Upper District beyond. They had separate business to attend to now, Baran had to get back to his own Kingdom in the North, but his lack of trust in the young Fae he still clutched meant he was intent to accompany him to where he needed to go. Lavanya deserved to know what was going on since she had a hand in the mortal's fate, and Jaque had a way with the older women of the District that meant he was always welcome come good or bad news. For Jareth could not know. But his Mother must.

As they rounded the platitude for the Wind garden, they suddenly came to a halt as Jareth stepped out into their path. Alone. The Princess was nowhere to be seen. His heeled boots clicked as he stalked into the center of the path, a faint smile lifting his features. All the same, Jaque took an unconscious step back until his boots nearly hit Baran's and did his best to look as innocent as possible.

"Jareth! Haven't seen you in a dogs age. I heard you were entertaining the Princess of Nocte, so I was going to postpone a conversation until later this evening. Everything peaceful in paradise?"

The blue and brown gaze fixed on him and he grinned back on reflex, tugging back on his gloves with what he hoped was subtle haste. The expression on the other's face didn't change save for the smile growing slightly in a slightly dark manner and even Baran cleared his throat.

"It appears I was misinformed of her title, but no matter. The betrothal will be announced 3 days from now, on Lendas. Can i expect to see you both there?"

"So soon, your highness? Usually you're far more particular about such matches. I never took you as ome for blondes." Baran replied nonchalantly, finally releasing the youth to fold his arms. The gaze was lifted to his own of granite, the smile freezing in place, but underneath his well groomed beard his own mouth twitched downwards in response.

"My affairs are my own I believe. The match has been set, agreed upon, and as we speak her father is being notified," His eyes finally dropped, looking around them as if in a slight daze, "What intrigues me is how I see neither hide nor tail of either of you and then I come across you together. I wasn't aware you two were even acquainted. Let alone so acquainted that even Arlyn joined you."

A slightly tense silence fell till only the colourful birds that inhabited the grounds could be heard in tune with the rushing water coming from nearby. The sun was full, signalling noon, and Baran stepped to the side so it no longer inhibited his vision a she kept his eyes locked on the blonde in front of him.

"Business as usual, nothing exciting." He replied, gruff voice making his words sound harder than they were. Jareth merely inclined his head though his expression said anything except that he believed them.

"I see."

"I'll probably be back at the Academy in 3 days time, I regret to say." Jaque finally said quietly, forcing the words out through sheer nerves. It struck him as odd how worried he grew in the other Fae's presence when he was acting as he was when usually Jareth was one of his favourite people. The reason he had stepped into the string pulling when Eanraig had called for volunteers. Jareth looked at him again and sighed through his nose... but merely nodded again instesd of replying.

They took their leave and he was left to walk the path back to Aurea alone, his only company bwing his thoughts and the wildlife that occupied the space he walked. Already his thoughts had left that of the pair he had spoken to, sliding back to the one who's side he'd been at all morning. Then away as confusion filled him at the feeling that sparked from said thoughts, turning them back to the main reason he was here.

From irritation of her... so quickly changing to... what? Endearment? Ridiculous.

Was this what his Mother had spoke of in his childhood? The sensation upon meeting your mate?

Utterly preposterous.

His mind fogged again and he wavered, turning sharply to rest upon a bench nearby as he pressed his hands to his temples. No sooner had it come than it was gone again, leaving him yet more lost. A part of him rose its hackles but the larger part hushed it back into the dark. No one was wresting his mind from him, it was just the wine taking its toll. He was fine. He stood again, taking a moment to make sure he was steady, then he set off for his chambers to ready himself for dinner later that night. He would hate to humiliate himself in front of Aislinn by turning up unprepared.

The sounds of the grounds settled bac in as his footsteps finally faded away, and an obnoxious sneeze emitted from under the bench he had vacated. "... Smell... bad? "

"Kingy ill!"

"Kingy fine!"

"He's forgetting..." The leader rasped, red eyes wide as his head poked out. The others turned to the goblin anxiously, pressing in tighter as a bird swept past. Behind them, a startled yell sounded as another goblin fell from where it had been attempting to mountaineer for a better view and they turned around to give it a disgusted look

"F-forgetting wut?"

They turned again, peering out from the stone panel of the bench's supports.

"About Sawah. About himself."

Choking laughter erupted from them, then they started shoving each other in the hilarity until the leader hissed at them.

"We must get back to da castle."

He hopped out, waiting momentarily on the others.

"Breeeek, we are leaving! Shtap yoor moaning and get up!"

"Put that bush back!"

"Hurry, someone's coming!"