A/N: Thanks for the lovely reviews guys :3

By the end of the week, an eerie darkness had settled on the Williams residence. One that couldn't be lifted no matter how many windows were open and letting in light from outside. Karen had stopped asking both Sarah and Toby what had come over them and now sat in quiet at meals, quickly excusing herself the minute it was over to clear the entire kitchen anew. Robert had scarce noticed much other than the fact that the interruptions to his morning reading of the newspaper had all but ceased. But for the two siblings... there was more going on behind their shuttered gazes and the fact that they hadn't split up for quite some time now.

Sarah had decided to return back to University after her impromptu break from her studies and had rang Aliannah to ensure that her best friend had kept hold of everything she'd need to catch up again. Toby hadn't even acknowledged them since coming down the stairs past a sharp hitch in his breath and a long stare directed at his sister's back. Yet all he got was a ruffle of his hair and a suffocating hug then she'd left, striding down the driveway to her car without a backwards glance. And the boy had stood there in the doorway watching until he couldn't see the fumes from her exhaust any longer, barely hearing his mother tell his father that Sarah's mirror had broken and that they would need to phone someone to pick it up to take to the dump. With her departure had gone his resolve to willingly go to sleep at night. Especially now that he knew more than likely what would be waiting there for him when he finally succumbed. Sarah had left him to it alone.

Finally, he swung the door shut and turned on his heel to run back up the stairs to his room to find the book again, to find out what happened after the girl had eaten the peach and blatantly ignoring his mother's wheedling voice calling on him to sit with them in the living room in the process. Ironically the girl in the book reminded him of Sarah- ironic, as his sister despised peaches with a furious passion - with her nature and her approach to the problems she came up against. At this point he had given up trying to find a way out of whatever the hell kind of dream was plaguing him these past few weeks as the one time he'd mentioned it to a friend at school, the teacher had gotten involved and asked if he needed to speak to someone. Seeing a shrink at his age was social disaster and he refused to go into any kind of room and talk to the person there about men in jodhpurs and castles and how familiar the whole place seemed to him. He was hoping this book had the answers. Until that morning, he had thought that of all people, he could have spoken to Sarah.

Truth was that he was terrified now when the sun went down and the hours for him spent awake dwindled in number as the moon climbed higher in the sky. Like a burden sitting on his chest and staring him in the face with each time the clock in the hall tolled its hour. Knowing that when his eyelids finally blinked and didn't open again... there were going to be certain people on the other end waiting on him. Big men that towered over him in mass and height. With large weapons he knew he couldn't hope to lift strapped by their sides even though they didn't need them to hurt him. Not that they had hurt him since he'd been taken to that... really nice place. Beautiful? If you liked that kind of thing. He'd only gotten a glimpse before the shoulder he'd been flung over turned and descended into a cold area of a building where there was no light. Just a desk with a chair for him to sit in and a fireplace, some torches on the walls. Where he was being endlessly interrogated from the minute he went to sleep until he woke back up again.

Strange things, as well. About his life from as far back as he could remember and everything he knew about his family and their lives. About Sarah's real mom - which, hey, not even Sarah knew - and whether he'd ever eaten anything since first turning up. Then he'd been examined. His teeth. His ears. His eyes. By a 'court physician' who had been trembling from the minute he walked in until the minute he'd left, let in by the one who hadn't carried him. At this point all he knew were first names and that didn't help him much. The man that had carried him was Baran, and he thought of Toby the way that Toby thought of bugs or really sticky looking kids. The other... Arlyn, who had gotten them to this place, spent most of his time scrawling on a bit of parchment and sending the scrolls through thin air so they disappeared with a faint pop! every few minutes. And the last. He kept hearing the name Eanraig but had yet to actually hear anything from the man in question, though he knew that He had been the one to shackle him in heavy chains to the chair when he'd turned up, with a flick of his hand so he couldn't move.. and when he hadn't reacted the way the man had expected, he had looked... horrified. But then he had left... never to come back.

And somehow he got this feeling that no one else knew that he was there or that they were there. Every now and then one would have to step out because The Queen had requested them, or the Captain of the Guard, and they stayed silent from the minute the door opened to the minute the bolt slid forward again into the lock. If anyone knocked, they threw something over Toby to cover him and started cracking jokes with however was at the door... only to have the most serious faces aimed at him the minute the cover was snatched away again when the person had taken their leave. And he couldn't even call out to them. He didn't know who or what he was calling out to.

Then they'd regroup and leave him drinking a glass of water to talk amongst themselves, about this weird 'Jareth' guy that he'd been threatened by at the very start of this very long nightmare and of the Fair One.

It was the same each and every time he went to sleep- or at least it had been for the past few nights, and he was still waiting for the punchline. Sighing, the boy threw himself onto his bed and grabbed the red bound book from underneath his pillow, his Gameboy going unnoticed beside his feet, and flicked through the pages idly until he found the last page he'd been on. It took longer that it should have as the page he had sworn he'd bent the corner on to mark his place had been as straight as all the others when he finally found it again. Yet another oddity in a line full of oddities. The lamp on his dressed clicked on as if someone had tapped it, even though he hadn't even reached for it, yet that went ignored as well as his eyes were pulled into the page with such insensity that he couldn't concentrate on anything else. The book pulled him back into its thrall, watched by many different pairs of eyes.

The hawk outside his bedroom window hadn't moved all day and it continued to stay motionless as the pages began to turn in earnest and the time passed with increasing speed. Underneath his bed, however, the dust motes opened their eyes and shook themselves free, until their bodies were free from the long forgotten dirt and looked amongst themselves. Bulbous eyes glinted in the lowlight, sniggers and hissing laughs muffled by his overhanging duvet trailing on the carpet as they took stock of their surroundings.

"He is reading again!" Whispered one, its ear pressed against the bed's springs directly beneath Toby's form.

"That damn fae hasn't left his post once since the dawn's break. I'm getting cramp-"

"You're getting cramp? Len has been sitting on my head for the past hour!"

"It was your idea to hide here instead of in his wardrobe, we would have been fine!"

"Shh shh shh! Listen..."

Toby's voice mumbled a little as he read out part of the passage to himself distractedly, then he settled down again and fell silent.

"If Kingy finds out we're here, we'll all be tossed into the Bog of Eternal Stench. It's been daysss..." Another one rasped, shaking his head indignantly at the rest of the goblins huddling towards the foot of the bed.

"It's because of Kingy that we're here, Tin-Ton. Now shuddup and quit whining."

"All we have to do is make sure he finishes the book. Then we'll get the music box. Then the mir-"

"The mirror smashed days ago you idiot! What are we gonna do, show him his reflection?!"

"With your bulbous face in here it's no surprise it smashed!"

"Guysss quieeet..."

The leader held up a pawed hand and lifted the corner of the blanket back to gawp up at the window for a moment. Then he dropped it, shaking his head as he looked down at his feet.

"'T's no good... the guard stays at his post. We must head back before The King notices we're gone."

"All of us?"

They looked at the smallest of their group, a small bottle-green goblin all but shaking as it took its ear away from the springs to look at them with fear in her eyes.

"...Deg stays. We need to make sure he finishes the book."

With small pops, the others disappeared in small showers of anxious glitter, and the lone bundle of rags was left to take up her post. Outside the window the hawk's head moved as it turned its eye to the boys carpet... then it took flight suddenly, dropping leaves from the branch it had clutched in its wake. Toby turned yet another page, visions of elegantly dressed strangers and masks dancing in a spinning room clouding his mind, a girl searching for someone... or something.

Sleep took him faster than he'd anticipated. One minute he was cheering on the girl for escaping the ball to resume her hunt for her brother and the next his bed had given way and parted in the middle, dropping him and his soundless scream into inky black depths that swallowed light. The black walls of the hole started to change from intangible darkness to hard-to-see brick and then to smooth stone walls and his falling slowed again like every other night... until his feet made contact with the rushes on the floor and his butt sank into the upholstered wooden chair waiting for him in front of the desk.

Expecting the chains, he leaned his head back on instinct to avoid any of them hitting him and then shut his eyes as if to ward it all off. But instead of feeling the cold bite of the metal settling onto him, he felt nothing. And after moment he sat back up straight and slowly opened his eyes. His gaze landing straight on a pair of such dark blue that they looked black, and he relaxed, a large breath leaving him in an audible whoosh.

"Lachlan! How did you find me? Can you get me out of here?" He asked quickly, smiling brightly at the large man and sitting forward in his seat. But Choilleach merely smiled a little sadly at him, making no move to stand up from the chair he was straddling. Rain still clung to the broad expanse of his shoulders still enshrouded beneath a large coat of sorts as well as to his beard and Toby felt unease slide down his throat back into his stomach the longer his questions went unanswered.

"Lachlan? What's going on...?" He tried harder, but his voice sounded small even to his own ears. His eyes darted to the door but it was blocked by another Fae in a strange... metallic green kind of armour that seemed to ripple in the light as he fidgeted. When he looked back, Choilleach was inspecting his hand that Sarah had bandaged just last week. Only... it was bandage free. Scar free. As if it hadn't been torn open horribly in the last month let alone the last week. Which was... impossible. Utterly impossible. Unless...

"You're not here to help me at all, are you."

It wasn't a question this time but a statement, and the adolescent boy slumped back in his seat and looked balefully at him for a long moment before muttering under his breath and looking away to the side at the floor, his expression tightening into a scowl.

"No, Tobias... Not in the capacity you want. I cannot break you free from this place. That is out of my abilities, I'm afraid." The warrior fae finally acquiesced, lifting his head as his eyes roamed the boy's face. There was no trace of fae in him, not even a little. And still it did not make sense that he could be here otherwise.

Toby merely huffed in response and crossed his arms over his chest, continuing to glower at a random spot of dirt. The guard at the door coughed into his gauntlet and then the silence slid into the air again.

"... Tobias Williams... You have caused quite the stir with my... superiors. This appearing and disappearing trick you have going on is a frightening breach of security. Until they can figure out how you are doing this, or you tell them, this door will only be opened by one of them. They cannot trust you. What they don't trust may enter this room but it cannot leave. Do you understand?"

The Fae shifted in his seat and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose then clasping his hands. Finally, Toby lifted his chin in a nod and barely turned his head so he could look at him, but otherwise made no move to reply.

"It takes magic to circumvent magic. That much is the natural law of existence. Not a rule- just a fact. The problem, then, is that you do not possess magic and neither do your parents. Which means that someone or something else is bringing you here. We are merely trying to find out what or what that is."

Toby sniffed. "You lied to us, didn't you. That night you came to our house. It wasn't an accident, was it?"

Choilleach looked sharply up at the guard at the door and jerked his chin, and waited until the armour-clad fae had left the room before he started to formulate a reply. "Yes... and no."

"Well, which is it?!"

"I'm afraid your question will have to be a little more specific. Or a little more broad."

The blonde groaned in irritation, barely restraining himself from an expletive his mother would certain batter him about the head with a dish towel for.

"You're one of them, right?"

A smile. "Right."

"You faked an injury to get into our house, right?"

A shake of the head. "Wrong."

"Then how did you rip a hole in your hand?"

The fae grimaced at the thought, looking back at the hand as if, like Toby, he expected to see something still there as well.

"I had been guarding your home for quite some time now. With the storm the other night, I was in my err... other form. And my wing was destroyed as the branch I was using... snapped."

Toby pulled a face and shuddered, crossing his arms even further across his chest in disgust. "You've been spying on us!"

"...Technically speaking. For your own safety as well as ours."

"Why did you send that guy out?"

"Who, Brandubh? The guard? Because no one knows that I sought aid that night."

The boy paused in confusion. "So... you're not allowed to come into our house?"

"Right."

"But you did it anyway?"

"I was losing a lot of blood and for reasons I cannot depart, I could not heal myself. I needed aid."

"Why aren't you allowed into our home?"

Another smile. "You ask many questions, young Tobias. The simple answer is simply because it was against my orders."

"This doesn't make any sense. Why are you watching us? Why do I keep coming here- And why does everybody hate me so much?!"

Toby stood from his chair with enough force that it slowly tipped over, then he stalked away towards the far corner of the room looking for another door or just something that made sense. Choilleach merely turned in his seat so he could watch him, eyes barely flickering in a blink as his gaze attached raptly to his form with trained precision.

"You are human. Mortal. Your kind doesn't belong here, in normal circumstances. Hasn't since our two realms were separated," He began, folding his hands in his lap, "And we have been watching for the last... in your time, ten years. Again, for both of our best interests. And now it is because of your recent trips here as well as the visitation of your sister. I have no answer to your other question."

"It's not like I asked to be here! I'd rather be fighting dragons or on stage with a band and famous instead of here. I can't control where I dream!" He exclaimed in response, whirling round to look at the large fae once more. "And everyone here seems to have an issue with my sister and they all refuse to say her name or let me say it. You're all so weird, I just want to be left alone!"

Choilleach merely shrugged. "Her name is taboo in these parts. Ancient history, I'm afraid. Again, for reasons I cannot depart to you."

He snorted. "Like you would tell me even if you could. I hate dreaming. All my brain gives me is riddles."

Pausing, the older fae tilted his head to the side, then reached out a foot and gently knocked one of his knees away from the other. As the limbs made contact, he hissed under his breath and drew it back to himself. "You... You're solid."

"You could have just asked me that instead of kicking me!" Toby cried, rubbing at the offended part and moving his seat back away from him by a few inches.

"My apologies; I had to be sure for myself without giving you any chance to prepare. Or whatever is bringing you here. Ignore it."

The boy rubbed at his face and sighed again, louder and slightly more obnoxiously this time. "Whatever. Why are you even here, Lachlan? Why bother speaking to me at all?"

"I thought you could find some comfort in a familiar face that isn't seeking to interrogate you, is all. If you like I can send back in Arlyn and Baran, who're loitering outside the door waiting for me to either leave or let them in. I requested some time to speak to you before they got stuck into things again. It isn't like there are many other people who you can speak to about this, is there?"

Finally, Toby crossed the room again and threw himself back into his chair with bad grace. "Who is Eanraig and why did he have me chained to this chair?" He asked suddenly, changing the subject. Choilleach blanched in response, taken aback, but cleared his throat and sat up further as he turned to straddle his seat once more and face him.

"Eanraig is the High King of this city. Your very first adventure into Jared's lands brought him here to demand a meeting with the High Council and seek some sort of answer for treason and treachery of his person. Which led to Eanraig appointing us three plus another to the task of keeping track on you and your sister to find out what was going on. Which has led to this."

"That's a lot of people to only one person. Isn't that overkill?"

Choilleach grinned and lifted a shoulder, flashing his teeth. Toby's eyes focused on the points of his incisors and then looked pointedly away again. Baran had nearly had a fit the last time he'd asked if they were vampires. "Under normal circumstances, yes. But family ties make him a bit more protected."

"But Jareth's dad is dead. You told us that."

"His Uncle took the place of his dad when he passed. Jareth is his only nephew."

"Then shouldn't Jareth be on this throne and not out in that weird place with the maze? That makes him a prince, doesn't it?"

The fae sobered, and his expression set to stone as he stood from his seat. "I am not at liberty to discuss such matters. At any rate, I have vastly overstayed my welcome," He answered, moving around him and towards the door with long strides, "Good luck, Tobias Williams. Our paths will cross another dawn."

Toby slumped back in his seat glumly, eyes resting on the now vacant seat across from him. Instead of feeling better, now all he had were more questions. And he hadn't even gotten to ask the one that was bothering him the most right now. Or rather, the two.

Was Sarah in danger because of all of this?

And... Was Jareth the fae in the red book he was reading?

Outside of the room, Choilleach swept up the corridor past the armoured fae waiting by the door and towards the East wing. Behind him, he heard the heavy footfalls of Baran scuffing towards the door slower than the clicking steps of Arlyn, the former muttering something dark and scathing about the boy who was waiting for them, but he didn't turn to acknowledge them. He had his own questions that he sought to answer before his next patrol and before he was due to report to Eanraig with the day's findings.

He had portaled here on a whim as Toby's eyes had begun to lower, his eyelids closing... and barely after taking his seat in that room, the boy had materialised before him like some kind of spirit. And there were only two ways to do that, one of which had already been ruled out. The second was far more dangerous and took such strong power that it even gave him pause. Something that would have Eanraig abduct the boy in full rather than wait for him to 'fall asleep', which would send the entire city into chaos. Yennifer still didn't know, and Eanraig still wasn't inclined to bring his wife into this. She was already pulling strings for Jareth's betrothal ceremony and his wedding to Aislinn and knowing what her husband was up to behind the scenes would bring it all to a screaming stop.

He couldn't tell anyone. That much was certain. Such ancient magic... Albion hadn't seen its like for millennia. The Great War of the Artair that had wrought their world with such bloodshed and strife that the elder Fae had been exiled... only to be made to devise a way to separate their kind from humanity. The creation of Terauramulis their redemption. The horrors of their past could not be brought to the present again. Gut instinct told him, however, that this was not a battle he could cease. If the veil between Albion and Earth were to thin or to tear, it would mean such catastrophe as the end of days. For them all... not just humankind, but the Fae as well. But what to do?

His thoughts were disjointed and panicked, his feet swallowing more and more ground with fervent speed as he headed for the Golden Plateau, to pray to the higher deities. To be heard now before the ending of times had to give them a sign of what to do. Choilleach might had been one of the strongest warrior fae within the Sacred City but he was also one of the most devout. He swore it was what gave him his edge. Why he was the most trusted from their ranks. His instincts had never drove him wrong... and right now they were telling him something was coming.

Fellow brothers in arms passed by with nods and courteous smiles and he returned all but none, yet sidestepped the choice to stop and exchange the pleasantries of his clansmen. His eyes were focused on trick door set into the mortar behind the room of the great court, and only paused long enough once there to ensure that none watched him enter. It wasn't illegal or frowned upon to pray inside, but to be seen entering was believed to bring bad luck to those who watched and the one who entered, and so he halted.

Then he slowly, deliberately, peeled off his gloves and placed a bare palm across the lock. For a few moments nothing happened, the gloomy hall silent around him and empty save for the dust, then a glow of gold began to radiate out from the lock through his fingers to form small vines that ensnared him, enveloping him... and a click gently echoed through the hall, the door gliding open to let him enter.

Inside was a glorious sight. The garden was filled with all manners of flowers and trees and Albion's twin suns beaming overhead were bathing it all in shades of liquid gold, casting shadows that formed celtic knots on the grass. The walls were blissfully clear of lichen and moss but were draped in white ivy. Choilleach took a moment to allow his startling eyes accustom to the bright light, then immediately but carefully removed his things; Discarding his coat and his boots to the step just inside the door and pulling his hair loose of its tie so only the metal half circlet of leaves was left holding it away from his face, leaving his ears on full display, he carefully folded them and set them aside. His weapon belt was slipped loose then and sat atop, though he stooped and drew the golden dagger free from its sheath, then turned back to the garden.

There was an opaque, white altar of quartz sitting proud in the center of the back wall of a kneeling goddess, her head bowed over cupped hands. Around her were the most celebrated items of nature, of the fae species, in various poses of frozen animation. With a deep breath, he stepped from the stone path and into the grass, reveling in how it cradled his bare feet. Almost instantaneously, his tension left him as the grass steadily pulled it from his form, and he was spurred onwards to his goal. The flowers opening further as he passed, the light glinting off the sharp edge of his gilded blade and onto their pale petals as his hands swung gently by his side. His eyes grew in size, his iris' breaking to leak the colour into the white until it was completely engulfed by cracked, icy blue, only his pupils left untouched, and Choilleach lifted his chin to let the sunlight bathe across his pronounced cheekbones.

At the altar, he kissed the pendant around his neck and held it to the sky for a moment before sinking to his knees, his feet linked across at the ankle behind him so his soles were facing the sun. The burgundy shirt he wore gently buffeted in the breeze, its fingers tugging at his hair as he looked down at his palm and then drew his blade across it down his lifeline. Drops of crimson quickly blossomed from the split skin and he rose up to hold his hand above the statue's hands, curling his fist to force a few drops to splash across the stone with a steadied breath. One. Two. Three.

Beside the statue lay a bowl of rowan leaves and mountain ash, and he took one to lay across his bleeding hand with a whispered word of gratitude, then took both of his hands into his lap to deliver his rite of worship... and then his rite of protection. For his people. For the little Tobias Williams. To ask for aid against what was coming towards them in the future and to take mercy on those who brought it. For thanks for all he had. And lastly... lastly for Jareth and his loved ones. For protection against himself and whatever lay in the road ahead.

The suns moved, splitting apart overhead to descend over either side of him as the time waned on... then finally after a long bout of silence, the leaf on his palm burned up against the dried blood on his skin leaving the flesh unblemished, then it disappeared in a wink of silver. Nodding, he bid her farewell and pulled himself to his feet in a fluid motion, turning away. The blood offering had disappeared from the altar which he had always taken to mean he had been heard. Though in all honesty none of them could ever know for sure when they came for their own prayers. It was a matter of faith.

Inside the palace once more, he redressed himself, then went looking for Xavior, the door shutting behind him with another faint glow until it disappeared into the wall. Jaque would be back at his post in the University as Miss Williams had apparently returned, ready to take up his self-adjusted role of student and friend. And watcher. Xavior had mentioned that other fae than their own kin had infiltrated the sacred ground of education for reasons yet to be seen and he wished to hear more about what and who exactly they were supposed to be watching out for. The youth would likely become distracted by Her within a week and his duties would inevitably slide by consequence. If Choilleach was to have his back in this mission then he needed details. Miss Williams was still a wild card that they could not predict, unlike her very telling family, and so he did not trust her even yet regardless of her aid. Something told him she didn't belong where she was. But he didn't know why... and neither did anyone else.

And what of the matter that some of Jareth's charges had yet again been with the Williams on this night? This time squatting under the boy's mattress rather than a couch, which spoke of a specific nature. For some reason, they had taken a special interest in Tobias and were willingly breaking their liege's orders to act on it. Something that he knew Jareth wouldn't hesitate to correct them for... and likely in a permanent way, as well.

Telling Xavior such information however would be dangerously close to the source, so he would have to bide his time until Tobias woke in his own world and Arlyn and Baran surfaced from their little room in the bowels of the keep. Truthfully he was a little surprised that they hadn't taken him further into the depths to the dungeons and shackled him in there for treason and suspected attacks against a monarch. He couldn't say. His part in this play was but little and he would do well not to step outside of its confines.

Turning the corner into the West Wing he was intercepted by a light, melodic voice calling out to him and he turned immediately in surprise. Instead of the High Queen Yennifer as he had been expecting, in front of him stood an all-too familiar head of ash blonde and prussian blue eyes swathed in a dress of midnight. "...Lady Lavanya," He greeted her stiffly, bowing with a foot tucked behind him. He looked at her familiar features from his lowered stance as she continued to smile warmly at him... then stood once more. "I did not expect to see you within these halls again. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

The fae smoothed her skirts with practiced hands and her smile grew to show a row of perfect teeth. "Choilleach. It is good to see you," she answered fondly, her head tilting to the side, "I was just passing by to speak with our... Queen. I'm glad I have caught you, however, as I have been meaning to speak to you about something. Will you walk with me to the city?"

Her smile stayed in place, but her eyes clearly spoke of there being little choice in the matter. Resignedly, he nodded, turning his booted feet away from the Guard's Keep and towards the mouth of Aurea. "Of course, my lady. It would be an honour."

He extended his arm and she smoothly stepped in to claim it, allowing him to steer them back up the corridor he had walked towards the large, ornately sculpted doors at the far end of the palace. They walked in silence for most of the journey, with Lavanya nodding and smiling demurely at her past subjects whenever they crossed someone's path, and a feeling of unease started to take hold within his gut. Jareth's mother making the trip from the highest tier of the city to talk to Yennifer out of everyone within the Halls of Aurea was unheard of, since her throne had been abdicated and Eanraig had claimed it, and it spoke ill of what was to follow. Things had to be grave indeed.

Finally he broached the subject as they left the servants quarters behind and the following, brightly lit halls lay empty ahead of them. "Perchance I may be so bold as to inquire after what you needed me for, Lady Lavanya?" His steely gaze roamed the carved walls with their suits of armour standing proud, and tapestries of families and houses long passed spanning upwards towards the high ceilings to bide his time, to stop his gaze roaming over his original master's Queen- his responsibility for millennia before He passed- as she took in the all too intimately known decorations as well. His question hung in the air for a few seconds, then finally he turned to look at her and saw the way her jaw had tightened.

"Yennifer tells me that Jareth finally plans to marry. That he has betrothed himself to one from the Isle of Nocte. I had to hear it from darling Jaque just two morn's ago as none had sought to send me word of my own son's marital affairs," she stated bluntly, the warmth in her tone dissipating in the air before them, her eyes taking on a hard edge as she finally looked up at him, "It was assumed that as I am still his mother, regardless of the fact that I no longer sit in a crowned chair overlooking the entirety of Terauramulis, that I would be included in such affairs rather than alerted afterwards? I disagree with Yennifer's choice of Princess Aislinn, I do not trust her. Nor any fae who dwell within the dark mists of that forsaken Isle. As for her second choice..." she scoffed derisively, a sound that shocked him to hear come from one such as her, "From what I can gather, she has run foul of her own deeds or has tried to break from an arrangement with Jareth. I do not blame her, and I have lent my own resources to give aid to finding her to make sure she remains in fair health if only to make sure that it was by choice. What I do not like about this... princess Aislinn... is that we have not heard of her before her name was brought to Yennifer. At such an age as she, that gives way to suspicion, does it not? Why haven't any of her ancestors faces been seen within the walls of our city for hundreds of millennia? That is why I sought you."

Choilleach's brow furrowed and he looked down at the polished crystal floor they walked as he thought it over, his clean shaven face looking back at him. "You want me to find out more about her. To find more of her house and her ancestry."

"I want you to make sure that my son hasn't made a mistake from which he can not be saved. This... this running into things without doing his own checking first, without multiple meetings with Aislinn and declaring their betrothal to Eanraig without telling me? I know that our... our bond has faded considerably since his appointment to the Southern Borderlands... but I still love him so. He is of my spirit, my blood. No matter our troubles, he told me the last time there were matters of the heart. Jareth isn't acting like himself and that brings me great distress, my Lachlan," her eyes clouded in worry as she slowed them to a halt at the entrance to the palace, tearing them from his face to overlook their city. Her chest heaving once in an emotional exhale. "You protected my family once with your life when this was ours, and we treated you like another son. While our paths have parted and our allegiances, I would hope that you have not turned your back on us so swift."

The younger fae bowed his head, taking her hand to lead her carefully down the steps, past Xavior's troupes glad in their armour. Once alone again, he waited until they stood at the archway to the Upper District, then he turned to face her and took both of her hands to kiss their backs. His eyes never wavered from her own as they clouded further, and the lines of worry started to etch themselves into her expression as if carved by knives.

"Protect my son, Choilleach. On the oath you once swore my husband and I, on the life's blood that joined us and himself. Swear that you will protect him with all that it takes, with every breath that may enter your body, lest he fall afoul of evil."

Choilleach dropped her hands, crossing a hand over his heart with a solemn look.

The suns dropped lower to the horizon, lighting them up in dark silhouettes with golden auras before the sacred city.

"I swear it, Lavanya. May the deities judge me and allow me to take his place in times of hardship and death," he swore quietly, drawing his blade once more and tugging off a glove to expose his lifeline once more. The cut he made this time was deeper and with more emotion, the blood spilling free and fast as he clutched it before them. Lavanya let out a shaking breath and wrapped a lily-white hand across it.

"Bheir spiorad agus anam buaidh air bàs," he breathed. She nodded, allowing a tear to spill on the curl of his fingers.

"What is fated is unavoidable. Fly strong."