A/N: This is going to be a slow burn fic in the extreme for Jareth and Sarah. I'm really sorry if that isn't what you guys enjoy and if that puts you off the rest I get it! But please stick with me, I promise there'll be plenty once it picks up steam…

He received them in his solar, his silhouette illuminated against the crystal wall that spanned the left-hand side of the room, overlooking the tiered districts of Terauramulis. The dirty blonde Fae held himself tall as they slowly stepped through the solid oak door, watching as Arlyn paused long enough to see to it that the door shut in its entirety, locking, and then cast a warding across it against eavesdroppers. Only then did his shoulders sag, and a sigh loosed from his chest from where his breath had caught. Millenia of experience hadn't prepared any one of them for a situation like this, for avoiding the many ones they loved… to save just one. They were breaking their own laws by doing what they were doing. The deception was beginning to take its toll; Eanraig could see the haggard expression on Baran's face, turning his features ever darker and more severe. Arlyn looked like he had aged a few centuries in the last week alone. He daren't ask how he looked himself, to their beholding eyes.

"Evening, my friends. Do you bring good tidings to our city on this eve?"

The question was far from sudden though it had followed a moment of revered silence, nor was it sharp, yet still Baran started as if someone had just yelled in his ear and Arlyn dropped his head into his gloved hands. Eanraig's brow furrowed as he saw a great weight settle back on the two males, worry clear in his eyes when they finally, reluctantly, raised their gazes to his startling cerulean. He knew the answer even before any words left their mouths simply by the way they held themselves. Or rather, didn't.

"We are bringing the wrath of the Goddess upon ourselves in this endeavour, with each passing night we enchain this mortal adolescent and condemn him to more subject questioning which he cannot answer. He is as solid as the first night, yet he cannot be. He begs for release but then disappears. We need more time, more information, before we can begin to weave any story from this mess let alone swell tidings," Arlyn voiced tiredly, dropping his arms to grip his elbows as he glanced at his counterpart, "We are helpless, we are concerned, we are-"

"This is not our business to interfere in, Eanraig. Rally your Royal guard, force Jareth to tell you something substantial, find an alternative route to the questions we seek. We are wasting time and resources that could be better employed elsewhere. It is a fool's folly to pursue this course!"

Baran's eyes held knives within their startling charcoal depths as he pinned their friend in place with almost desperate intensity, bottom lip quivering from repressed frustration. "Clearly, something has tied him to this realm. Our iron shackles cause him no pain, so he possesses no Fae trace within himself. Only… only some sort of magic… a magical contract or other being could have this kind of binding power. The fact that he has free will here can only bode ill for our future. But alas, does the boy know anything? No. No, he swears until he's purple around his temples that this is just a bad dream, that it isn't his fault, and only after he asks for Her does he finally leave-"

"That's enough, Baran. I can well enough see how exhausted and frustrated you are, and Arlyn," Eanraig snapped quietly, turning to look towards the wooden carved mural adorning the wall behind him, "The lack of progress we are making has begun to feast on my dreams, until I find myself more oft than not back here, in my solar, wondering after the fate of our people below us. I know only too well how the pair of you fair. For what kind of Ruler cannot protect his people?"

The High King turned fully away from the pair to stalk over to his desk, upon which sat a tiny shard of glowing white crystal encased within a clear globe. He lifted it, peering at it intently as his hand rotated it one way then back in the nearby wall's glow, then he lowered it to his side again with another deep sigh. Only two living people knew what he held, and he was one of them. Such calamity, such danger, rested within his palm, ensnared by curled fingers. The bare skin began to warm around the sphere until a light coat of condensation started, then he looked up from his boots to the outside realm and gave it a squeeze, as if assuring himself that it was very much contained.

"The situation surrounding The Boy has certainly… begun to spin out of control. I regret suggesting that we should internalise this so far," Arlyn murmured towards his King, "His presence is unsettling with its unpredictive qualities… his sudden appearances almost make me believe I will find him stalking the halls with me whenever I venture for breakfast."

Baran looked sidelong at Eanraig as well, "Like a bad smell… or omen."

"Regret has become my constant companion, rivalling the company of my dear wife Yennifer. She has already sensed the change within these halls, in me, in the life surrounding it, since the arrival of the Williams boy. Guilt presses upon my chest where she rests at night, all I feel are barriers separating us where I should feel our love. There is much to lose if we cannot resolve this threat, if we cannot prevent destruction reigning over Terauramulis, where peace has lain its comfort for millennia. I fear… I fear that I may not be as strong enough for the path ahead as I once proclaimed."

Arlyn shook his head, "This is not your burden to bear alone. We are not here to bow out and let another take our stand in this matter. Yennifer will understand when we glean our answers… we just have to find them first."

He gestured towards the desk, "Let us sit for now… Albion knows we all need the rest."

While the pair moved into their respective places, Baran remained standing, back stiff and taught against his shirt as he strolled towards the crystal wall Earnraig had just left. His eyes never left their king, his hands clasping in front of him.

"You may remain in denial, yet the truth will win out; We need more information from Jareth. Or from the Girl. We must find the reason for his nightly arrivals if we are to prevent them from continuing."

Eanraig levelled a look at him for a moment, then inclined his head. "I will look into it," he murmured, then he turned back to Arlyn with a serious set to his shoulders, voice earnest, "In the meantime, report. What do we have."

Arlyn sat up straighter, setting his hands upon the polished wood of the desk. "Arrival times differ due to the boy's schooling routine, Mother, and unknown handheld device. However, regardless of when he arrives, he remains in the dungeon for six hours most nights, and seven every other night, amounting to thirteen hours every two nights. At the chime that marks the thirteenth hour, he becomes… confused. Scared. Disorientated and uncooperative, and then he disappears in iridescent waves of dust. Nothing we do can force him to remain where he is or to regain his bearings."

"The Boy is fiercely protective of his sister whenever we push him for information on her, almost to Jareth-level ire, yet is almost complacent about his parents or peers. Jareth scares him, though Arlyn suspects that dormant recognition resides in his eyes when he speaks of him or we do. He enjoys his arrivals here as much as we do and knows about as much- "

"-However, he shows no sign of malice or aggressive behaviours towards us or our home," Arlyn cut in again, glaring at Baran balefully, "And I believe that the chair and shackles assigned for him are entirely unnecessary and potentially counterproductive. He is a youngling and should be treated as such."
The dirty blond looked between them for a couple of minutes, processing the information as he leaned his hand against his cheek, then he gestured with his fingers to the open air. "What are you proposing we do, Arlyn? He will be discovered if we give him free reign, and I am not comfortable to allow him the ability to roam where he pleases until I know how he manifests."

Arlyn grinned, his incisors flashing as he leaned forward conspiratorially. "I believe we should make better use of the… others, within this mission of ours. Jaque is always bleating about taking on more responsibility, so I see no reason why he cannot use those artistic skills of his to disguise Mr Williams for small tours throughout Aurea- also accompanied by Jaque, mind. Especially since he's already established contact with Her and he might be the link we need between the siblings."

The raven-haired fae beside him nodded slowly, eyes cast sideward towards empty space as he thought. "Choilleach's specific area of expertise is the mind and intentions of others, making him our best protector for our Monarchy- you, Eanraig, and your wife. He could make contact with the Williams boy and try to dredge up some form of repressed memories from the boy's past. This room… with its direct link to the Great Spire, through this wall… would be a powerful conductor for Choilleach's magic, and its ability to separate truth from fabrication. You would then be able to preside over the encounters, so you could witness first-hand."

"No."

The two fae looked back at Eanraig with twin expressions of confusion, Baran's brows jumping under his hairline.

"…These ideas are sound, by the Boy does not breach the threshold of this room. There is another room, similar to this, in the Old Keep. A wall of amber crystal, contrasting this wall of turquoise, so it is hard to miss. But first I would call upon your blood oath before we go any further," Eanraig continued, staring deeply through the small globe containing the crystal sliver which he'd since returned to its small wooden pedestal.

"The Old Keep has been sealed off since the war, due to virulent magical cast off and cursed wards that as of yet we cannot decipher. With the precarious nature of our mission, no one else can be given access. Even Jaque cannot enter. Anyone seen to be attempting to seek admission to the Wing will be punished to the highest severity of Terauramulis law.

"This may seem exaggerative. But I will not risk the lives of all else who reside here in Terauramulis because of some reckless fool meddling in what he doesn't know and is not prepared for. Anything could transpire in that Keep, anything could manifest or escape, and destroy this land and the rock plateau it rests upon. This boy could very well be the downfall of our kind, and we might not know until Choilleach has begun to delve into his mind. So, if we are to do this, you must both make a choice. If you deign to stay here to watch this mission succeed, I would have you bring together your immediates and make plans to live here with us for the foreseeable future- under the guise of Jareth's betrothal celebration taking your entire attention and focus, and to "pursue" potential allegiances with the Isle of Nocte.

"If you would prefer to return to your kingdoms and only receive updates on the occasions in which you will be here under necessity, then leave now before we finalise any other plans. I will not judge you, my friends, if both of you elect for the latter. It sits ill with me to burden you both, and now further the risk and responsibility of our kin. But know there is no room for doubt, here. Not if we are to see this through."

His decision on the matter had been sudden, rash, though to Eanraig that was mostly due to the reality of the plan's functionality and the very real danger of their situation. He could see the surprise in his counterparts at the speed in which he'd taken the plan on board, cementing it firmly into action, for he had always been the one to overthink things until they had many backup plans for every battle plan they voiced.

Not on this day.

Choilleach would no doubt voice doubts and concerns aplenty for his part in this undertaking, though he would agree to do it regardless since it was Eanraig who was asking it of him. Jaque was a little careless these days due to his youth, not unlike his Nephew, so giving him this task could be the turning point for his maturing into adulthood.

He just hoped it was going to work.

"Baran- find Choilleach before you retire for sleep in your quarters. Arlyn- I would beseech you to contact Jaque and alert him to the change in our current course. Forthwith, I shall- "

A sharp knock sounded against the door, shutting his mouth with a neat click! and they all turned to look as Eanraig motioned his hand to open it. Standing in the doorway was none other than Cleary, bleary eyed and panting with a scroll in his hand.

"My liege, Lady Aislinn's carriage has arrived, Queen Yennifer has requested your presence in the dining hall to welcome them."

The bloated light of the twin moons was illuminating the stone courtyard of the gardens when Choilleach's head scout returned to his side, his green armour barely making a noise as his boots came to a halt in an adjacent mirror of his commander, hands tucked regally behind his back. His black hair was held back by a silver dagger clasp so only a few tendrils fell into his face, softening the hard planes of his face. They wore the same solemn expression, but this was borne out of trained and ingrained habit rather than by their tidings. Although, those were not nearly as light as the beams which illuminated their silhouettes.

With a nod, Choilleach jerked his head, and the pair walked away from the stone centrepiece which was stained in an elaborate dance of their people towards the treeline and away from prying eyes.

"I trust your journey brought you to calm seas," he said finally, eyes never leaving the contours of his comrade's face. He looked far more youthful than he was, his lineage known for its soft features. Yet he was not much younger than the commander. You could see in his eyes, the way the speckled olive irises held more pain in them than any childling ought to have experienced, proof of his centuries of service to the monarchy. To Choilleach. In more ways than one.

"Would that I could concur, yet the tides were as in turmoil as the sky, leading us to bleaker pastures," was the reply, though Ardál did not lift his gaze from a fixed spot away from the pair of them. His mouth was tight, his shoulders set like stone, and in the waning light it looked as if there were moisture clinging to his lashes. Perhaps just a trick of the eye, since his voice was so calm and melodic.

"Then can I trust that you found your quarry? Your absence was felt in the spanning weeks, Aurea shone a little dimmer in regard."

Ardál smiled a little then, his gaze dropping further, then he breathed in deeply and tipped his chin skyward. Exhaling just as deeply, he shook his tresses from his face, and the smile died. "I apologise for our diligence which took us further than anticipated. It would appear that the Isle of Nocte is as unwelcoming as its reputation has so ostentatiously described," he grit his teeth, swallowing thickly as the glistening around his eyes seemed to grow, "We… we lost a few brothers and sisters in the valleys. Some were… unfortunately impossible to recover, to return to their families. The attempts were what prolonged our mission. Inevitably, we had to move out without them."

Choilleach swore, his back hitting the trunk of a large tree with a knock as he stepped back. "Have you offered…"

"… The very moment upon our return, we each offered our prayers to The Goddess for the salvation of their souls. She wept with us. For such an ungodly island to exist fills her with sorrow as it does lay laden upon our hearts."

"Yet exist, it does."

They stood in silence for a moment, Choilleach still watching Ardál intently, and the latter still refusing to meet his gaze.

"Where was She?"

A prolonged moment of silence, then the tell-tale scrape of metal on metal as Ardál clenched his gauntlets behind his back.

"Lady Deirdre… when we happened upon her, we could not identify her remains."

"The fae do not decompose. Are you sure it was the Lady?"

"I do not speak of decomposition, rather, grotesque mutilation, instead. Her birthmark was her identification, the broken knot on the inside of her left wrist. Her body was broken, her expression twisted and ruined past recognition. There was dense octarine in the air, so we can derive that her demise fell to magic."

"And where, Ardál, did you find Her?"

Ardál hissed. "The same valley where we lost our brothers and sisters in arms. Her body was protruding out of a fissure behind a long dead oak tree. Strange, for its roots ensnared her."

"Her guard?"

"Scattered to the four winds. Some still haven't uttered a word since we found them, and the wisps moved on after our parting prayers. But that isn't what bothers me."

"Speak your mind, there are no ears here."

"… Choilleach… Lady Deirdre was decomposing. The magic wrought throughout her wounds was festering, eating at the surrounding skin. She was not stone, nor wisp. She… she was mortal!"

The larger fae stood away from the tree, taking a menacing step towards him. "Such things are impossible, do not insult my intelligence with such… such whimsical tales- "

"I AM TELLING YOU, SHE WAS MORTAL."

Ardál's chest heaved, his blazing gaze now fixed raptly on the other fae, hair falling from his clasp in his sudden move. "We cannot lie. That much is impossible. But apparently a fae's immortality is not so concrete," he then whispered, lips peeled back in a snarl.

His commander's eyes were wide in shock, ears now attentively seeking out eavesdroppers from where his comrade's voice had echoed around the stone walls.

"… You are scared."

"You're damn right I'm scared, Choil. I'm terrified, and so are our men. Do not presume to stand here after sharing the spot beside me in my life and my bed these last centuries and accuse me of tales. As your lieutenant, I come to you in duty for the conclusion of our mission. As your husband, I come to you in confidence and do so lay my heart and mind bare. If you dare to dance upon the sacred vows of our marriage out of hard-headed stubbornness of what you believe to know, then you are not the fae I pledged my eternity to. Take a look in the casket we brought her back in, if you so choose."

The near-white haired fae hung his head in barely restrained shame, a faint murmur of an apology passing his lips. "I trust in you now as I always have, on our shared lifeblood. I will view her body on the morn, where natural light will show us more."

The raven-haired Fae nodded tightly in response, then sighed, unable to retain his flash of anger. Growing pensive, he tilted his head to the side and pulled away his gaze, now looking to the two moons overhead. "Lady Yennifer told no tales on her appearance, either. Lady Deirdre does ring bells in similarity to the likelihood of… the other Her. Here, Her Lady's mother gifted me with a pictograph of her daughter a mere month before her departure for Terauramulis, tell me your thoughts."

"How would I know?"

"Now who is insulting who's intelligence? I know you've seen her. I have known for a while now that Eanraig has had you running a project behind the rest of our backs, and due to my allegiance to the crown, I have no challenged him on monopolising your time. Yet I know who you are protecting. You have spoken more of your old charge as of late than in the last century of our marriage."

Choilleach smiled then, finally reaching out his hand to take the faded parchment. Turning his eyes to it, his brow furrowed for a moment as he took in each line and each colour, from her hair to her smile. Then referred to his charge in question in his mind's eye. Then focused once more.

"…No. She pales in comparison to Jareth's mortal. You see, Deirdre's hair is ebony, where Her hair is a rich, dark brown. Deirdre's eyes are pale jade, but Her eyes are emerald. Her smile is too small and tight, her figure too slim. She would have been a mockery to his heart."

He sighed. "Yet she is no lesser loss. I will alert Eanraig by first light. Has- "

"Her family are pursuing an investigation into her brutalisation as we speak. I have offered our services should they need them in your stead and expect word within a week's span for their answer."

"In the meantime, now you are home, you can rest up and make headway with meeting Jareth's betrothed. She is staying in Aurea until their marriage day."

"Do you speak of the blonde flutter pervading the west wing with her dark aura and abhorrent dresses?"

"Ah, I see that you have met her, then."

"I have seen enough to know that I do not like her, nor do I encourage her prolonged presence. I do not trust her. There is something wrong, Choilleach, and you cannot tell me that you haven't sensed it as well."

"You talk treason," the ghostly looking fae warned, eyes narrowing.

"I talk my mind, and my belief on my honour. You surely do not mean to allow our Jareth to… to shackle himself to her?"

"You would prefer the mortal?"

"I have always stood behind his choices when made from his heart, for they always remain true to his ideals. The mortal was good for him, challenged him. I did not sense malice in her intent when we visited his Labyrinth last, though her spirit lingered."

"It is not my place to approve or disprove his marriage. That is his choice and his family's business alone. I am no longer privy to his wellbeing."

"But you do sense it?"

"I sense that he is finally happy, or at least, happier than he has been since that day," he lifted a glove and swiped through the air, dispelling the notion. "I have no opinion on Princess Aislinn. Our paths do not merge, and I am content to keep it so."

"Yet even you would prefer the mortal. Do I lie?"

The wind picked up a little, and the moons began to slide behind a thick blanket of cloud. Eyes now gleaming in the dark at one another, Choilleach was reminded of many other instances of which they had looked at each other in this manner, yet under vastly different circumstances. Then his mind noted the gleam of his husband's eye and balked as it drew a parallel to what he had seen from the William's girl that night in her lodgings. How… curious.

"My preferences are immaterial, and you would do well to remember that your own are the same."

Ardál nodded, then stepped close to place a kiss on Choilleach's high cheek. Then he halted, or more accurately, he froze in his tracks, lip peeling back in another snarl.

"You reek of a mortal male. What have you been doing in my absence, exactly?"

Choilleach flinched at the ice in his tone, his hands moving to hold his waist. Ardál stepped neatly away so he couldn't, and he dropped his hands defeatedly.

"I am bound by a vow of silence, I cannot say."

"A pact you negotiated with your new pet?" Ardál spat, looking him over with fresh eyes. He looked more tired than the last time he had seen him, more withdrawn and scowling.

"A command from our High King, actually. My latest charge. Alas, I can say no more."

"I will kill that fae before he drives me into an early Fade. Just what does he think he is doing, meddling with you in this way? What am I to think, a moon's span from last I spied you, now with a stench of a mortal male? Hm?"

"You can retire easy, knowing that the arrangement is vastly different than your misplaced instincts tell you. It is a mortal child. No more a threat to you than the leaves caressing your hair."

"Such sweet words for such a secret wielder. You will bathe before you take your place in our bed."

"I have bathed. Mortals… well… smell. I have been assured that it will dissipate in time."

"Then you can sleep out here until it does."
Choilleach opened his mouth to speak, then paused as his eyes flicked to the nearby bushes. As if conscious of being watched, its leaves stopped rustling and fell deathly still, staring back at him.

He smirked.

"We are not alone, tonight. We have company."

"Company?"

He nodded, now clearly amused, though it was unclear whether he was slightly annoyed as well or not.

"Our formerly exiled King should be honoured to have such loyal and protective subjects, willing to travel such perilous distances to be with him."

Ardál whipped round and in a second had notched an arrow in the bow that had up until then been adorning his back, stretched line taught and shining in the little light offered to them. Choilleach laughed quietly and reached forward, pushing down on the arrow head and tilting it away.

"I highly doubt he would appreciate you murdering the inhabitants of his famed Goblin City based on a whim."

"Try privacy."

"This profession has made you paranoid, my dear. They mean no harm. I saw them at one of my posts last moon's turn as well. Jareth's vertically challenged, personal guard."

As if on cue, there was a faint sound of multiple bubbles bursting, and the bush began to glimmer under the iridescent glitter.

"And just like his mortal, they are gone."