A/N: Trying to update faster! R&R please!

"Oh Nuallán… If only you were still here to see him."

Lavanya's hands traced over the stony features of her late husband, the bust Jaque had carved for her still standing in its pride of place within her seating quarters. Her heart panged painfully as she took in the all too familiar features, but it was a bittersweet pain. Better than never seeing him again. Better than having her last memory of him being all that remained for her to remember him by.

His sword and scabbard were mounted on the wall above him, fixed to a board of partially scorched cherry wood, its name inscribed in traditional Fae lettering with crystal. Still as polished as it had been on the day he had Faded, when her soul had been inclined to follow him into the nether.

Her fingers slid from his cheek and gently dropped to her side in the silence, and she finally averted her teary eyes to gather up her skirts and head for her garden.

It had been five millennia since the day they had lost Nuallán, yet it seemed not so long ago. She still recalled walking the Halls of Aurea as her own home, her own corridors, her domain. They had answered to her, they had been her people. Jareth had been at home where he was supposed to be, permanently, and not just for his betrothal ball. She still hadn't had the opportunity to speak to her own son. He had been actively avoiding her for quite some time now, a few centuries at least, yet it was the Fae on his arm who had continuously directed him away from her throughout the entire duration of his celebration the previous evening.

There had been a time, once, when her family had told her of the happenings of Terauramulis, in respect of her previous position, of her name and the power it had held. Now it meant little to naught. She was a widow, treated with an entirely different form of respect, and she was very rarely seen by any of her family anymore.

Her walk took her past tapestries of their family's history, portraits of them together, and all of it drove the spike in her heart ever deeper.

It had all changed that night.

One minute they had had it all, and the next it had all been taken away from her. And she had been left alone to pick up the pieces, lost as to what the future held. She turned away from the thought, gathering her skirts to cross her threshold.

While most Fae tended to choose plant or stone surroundings, she had opted for a water garden. The cooling effects from being surrounded from moving water, of the different plant life and stone she could incorporate… it meant that it was a constant working progress. There was always going to be something she could move, or change, or remove. Things she couldn't do with elaborate stone masonry or ingrown plants.

Nuallán's essence was invested in this garden. He was in the statue at the end of the small pond, where Lavanya made her offerings and prayers to the Goddess. His Fade had been an odd one, since she had witnessed him pass with her own eyes. But before he went, before he chose to leave rather than to stay on as a stone vigil, he had promised an eternity of protection over his family, pledged it on his dying life's blood.
And in the end, he had gotten both. A partial fade, a partial stone vigil. Due to his lineage, and the crystal conducting city on which he stood, his elaborate power had to be split in order to evade a potential explosion of raw magic, a feat not easily achieves.

She had Choilleach to thank, for his aid.

Now, it meant that she could not speak to her husband even as he stared back at her from the edge of their gardens, forever out of her reach, with a necessity to be untainted by the living. His protection had to be activated for his essence to be released, and merely stumbling or harming herself could not change that. She knew this all too well. How often had she tried initially, just so she could see his smile again? Just so he could tell her that it was all going to work out okay… that Jareth was going to be okay…. That one day he would return home?

This world was now so alien to her. She had been raised surrounded by foliage and woodland, had met Nuallán by chance at a family relation's harvest ball, where they had fallen ardently in love. He whisked her away to the capital city of crystal, they had had such plans for their people that they had discussed daily while seated upon their regal thrones overlooking their districts within Aurea.

And now she was part of those districts, with no real place in Aurea or its halls. She had a single garden to tend now rather than the scores she had had in her palace. She was a lonely widow who rarely saw company for so many chose to give her such a wide berth now. All because none of them knew exactly what had happened that had wrested their king away from them so suddenly, so awfully. Did not know whether to trust her still or to turn their backs. Her doorway stood ever vacant.

Sighing, Lavanya came to a still beside her running brook, turning from the bubbling water to the pond it ran into, and there she gathered her skirts once more to pool around her legs as she took a seat. Slowly, she tugged at each of the clothed tips of her fingers, then slid the linen gloves from her hands to set next to her feet. Rich navy and violet rested in waves around her, colouring the water with its reflection, and she leaned forward into the reflection to dip her hands.

Natives to the city used crystals, including her son. Lavanya was not a native, and so her magic rested in water. Specifically, this very pool. It had been Nuallán's idea, since he'd taught her all about the mineral properties of the rock they had built upon and what to look for when she wanted to Scrye. Those teachings had become useful when she had been relocated here from the palace, her water wall now lost to her. With just her hands in this one pond, she could see virtually anything.

All except inside the halls of Aurea.

But that was of a small matter. It was not the palace which took her interest this eve. With her husband's stony gaze overlooking the crown on her head towards the entrance of their home, she took in a deep breath and sank her hands ever deeper until the darkening water reached up to the nook of her elbows, soaking the lace of her sleeves. Watching carefully as the water marbled from clear to an impenetrable dark, and then she set her jaw and shut her eyes.

First, she felt for her son. The uneven, sharp bottom of the pool gave way to emptiness which she began to fish around in, long finger nails slicing through the water gathering up any and all traces of him she could muster. First, there were small snippets of vision. A hunched over figure at a desk, a large goblet of strong wine before him which was reflected in a rich firelight that only illuminated the lower half of his features which were set into an unhappy, tense line. A flash of feeling, like suffocation, like uncertainty and loss. Heartache. Brusque duty.

She reached out to him there, reaching out to the light tresses which traces the open sides of his shirt. But almost immediately something hit her. Hard. Making her gasp and pull back in fright. The vision waned, losing colour, and then disappeared completely.

The water turned clear again and Lavanya sat back with an expression of deep concern, confusion evident at what had happened. She pushed again, trying to find her son, and this time was greeted with a solid wall. Blocked.

Lavanya withdrew a dripping hand and rubbed at her temple. She supposed she expected that. Jareth hadn't wanted contact with her since he had been banished initially to the Southern Borderlands and just because much time had passed, did not mean that he was going to let her in. Not this way. He'd never appreciated her just "dropping in" when she felt like it.

She smiled then, thinking about her other charge. Ever since Jareth had walked out, Jaque had walked into his space, almost. Determined to help her out and make her proud, proud like she was of her real son. A familiarity she extended to him in the absence of his own mother. If only because he was so much like the son she had all but lost and because he was in a position to help them both if not them all. Regardless of whether or not he knew it.

Placing her hand back in the water, she turned it to the side, and this time the water turned a strange shade of blue. It took a moment to focus, but when it did, she found him sitting in a dimly lit room surrounded by art supplies, staring at a door that was barely ajar as if opened in a hurry, expression thoughtful.

Shifting her gaze, she pivoted the perspective of the room to see what he'd been working on. It was hard, since the only light source seemed to be coming from in front of the desk.

She didn't know that he had been allowed the commodity of crafting outwith Fae territory, especially since his work was commission based. Still, she closed her eyes and pushed the tendrils of her power through, trying to urge him to turn on a light.

After a short while, the youth sighed heavily, kicking his boots up on the desk and snapping his fingers. Instantly, an orb of light appeared, then two, floating lazily in the air above his head. His end of the room was thrown into light while the rest was plunged into darkness, with even the light coming in from the open door snuffed out. Then he turned his gaze critically to the projects on his desk, and his mouth twitched downwards.

Following his lead, Lavanya once more adjusted her focus, leaning her hands and arms further into the pool until even her sleeves became submerged, eyes screwed shut in concentration as she leaned around his head for a good look.

Then all but fell into the pool upon the sight that greeted her, an audible gasp escaping her painted lips.

This could not be. Surely, surely not...

It was not a human on that canvas, nor was it entirely a mortal whose face was beginning to take intent form through its body of clay where Jaque sculpted it. The high cheekbones, the ears, the eyes... something about all of it was off. Her eyes moved quickly between the details of the canvas, the fact that she held wisdom rather than life and fertility in her hands as was the custom for these portraits. To the scrap of paper that stated in the younglings scrawl that peaches were never to feature around Ms Williams.

Her eyes were too intense a colour for a human, definitely for any that Lavanya had ever seen. Her skin was like glass.

Jaque... he could so very well be in trouble right now, much more than he imagined. Though with a quick glance at his face, she wondered if that was true.

Heart now pounding deep within her corseted dress, her eyes narrowed on the young Fae a little further. He wasn't looking at his work. His expression... his attention had been taken by something far more interesting indeed.

As she watched, he toyed with his glove, eyes flicking between it and the polished wood of the desk in front of him. Then in a swift movement he yanked it off, unfurling his fingers reflexively, and slowly moved his eyes to whatever lay in his hand.

It took a moment for the former Queen to realise it wasn't something he was holding... it was the hand itself. The flesh of his palm, to be exact.

When the floating orb passed overhead and threw light on it, a horrified shriek left her at what she saw. The skin that had been darkened that day now looked decayed, lifting away from his hand in flakes. The skin around it was dark and bruised, swollen, and her eyes frantically spanned over it as if looking for some sort of explanation.

Because, of course it was something that he'd touched. Jaque was also a nature Fae, who sapped things from touching them. It was no doubt why Eanraig had invited him to stay in Terauramulis for the nowbeing since the skill was so acutely advantageous. And now... well whatever he had touched, had been cursed. It was destroying his hands, his very livelihood, and it seemed to be spreading. There were dark veins beginning to creep towards his wrist from the central point of his palm and it was clear to see that it pained him every time he flexed his fingers.

Did they know that he was suffering? Had he told anyone?

"Choilleach... Where on Aurea is that damned Fae?!"

Jaque's expression turned nauseous and pale, and she withdrew her sight to stare blankly at the pool of water, the water trickling from her arms soaking into the rivets of her dress.

She had to warn someone. Had the mortal done this?

She recalled the look of the woman, and shook her head to herself. No... no mortal could cause such magical damage. And even if Ms Williams possessed even the smallest gleans of magic, her selfless nature over the past millennia didn't fit with the criteria required to marr a self healing immortal extensively.

Standing fluidly, Lavanya turned on her heel and marched towards her foyer, a look of determination on her face. Gathering her evening gloves, since she would be gone for a while, she gracefully pulled her skirts aside from the door and cast it open.

Then stopped, shocked, staggering back a half step.

"Y-Yennifer? Wha... what are you doing here in the district? Aren't you-"

The other Fae merely smiled tightly and pushed over the threshold, herding her predecessor further into her home. "Lavanya..." she pulled off her gloves, refusing to look at her, "It is time we talked, as kindred spirits."

The dark wood of the mantelpiece positively drank in any and all light, casting an illusion that the battle scene carved into its face was illuminated from within, so at any angle it was impossible to miss the story being told. Yet it stood empty, for no fire roared within its hearth, an alien environment to that which surrounded the room outside.

The lone figure within the room used the moonlight streaming in outside and multiple mirrors to bring light around the room so it was bright enough to see, was swathed in throws of fabric so they had no need for warmth.

A delicate, lily white hand sat poised above a fresh sheet of parchment with a paragraph of wet ink still settling into its ridges, blazing eyes taking in the words for a moment before glancing towards the dial to her left-hand side. In a moon's turn or three she would no longer have to stifle within these awful walls. All of this skulking around and fake smiles would be past. Her aim would be within her grasp.

She returned the quill to the inkwell, a nasty smile on her face as she took in the plumage. Lady Deirdre had been quite the adversary, but in the end, it had meant little and less in the large grand scheme of things. Carefully manicured nails trailed over the lines of colour rippling through the feather, eyes closed as a recollection of the other fae transforming in an attempt to escape was thwarted.

The feather had been forcefully plucked from her still breathing body while the roots of the trees had ensnared her, pinning her legs. Aislinn had stood back to watch her frantic endeavour of escape, clawing at the ground and the bark of the boughs now crushing the life from her. Watching the tears tracking down her gaunt face from her terror-stricken eyes. Her hand had caught Deirdre's when she'd finally reached to her in a final hope for salvation and had used the leverage of bare skin contact to wrest the last of her magic from her.

Rendering a Fae mortal was the highest of sins to pay for, but on the Isle of Nocte, it was as much routine as it was for the Fae in Terauramulis to look to the Great Spire each dawn they rose. Especially when there was competition that could not be allowed to challenge an authority. Who had Deirdre been, but a cheap imitation of a rodent who had trespassed this realm and tainted the sacred confined of one of their own for her own gain?

The whiny little bitch didn't deserve any recognition from the Hierarchy, least of all by having a copycat take her place to appease the heart of a broken king. Yennifer and Eanraig were usurpers, frauds who should never have alighted to the throne. Lavanya should have kept the seat after her husband Faded, should have fought them with all her magical ire to keep her son by her side.

But alas, she had been weak. She had stood by while her only child had been banished, had allowed herself to be escorted out of the palace on a permanent notice. Jareth had been old enough to challenge that authority as well, but he hadn't.

The city of crystal was as intimidating as the anthills where Terauramulis' secret search party had perished. All of them possessed weak wills and weaker resolves. The only one remotely foreboding was her husband to be, and even then, his life had been wrecked by a mere childling mortal, and he had never recovered. His kingdom was strong, his lineage even stronger. Those were her ties to him.

A knock sounded on her door and she jumped to action immediately; A fire leapt up in the grate, the orbs disappeared, her excess layers were discarded to a far away chair, and she swung from her desk as the handle turned and moved inward.

Allowing a demure smile to alight to her pleasant features, she hid her half-written letter to her envoy behind her elaborate skirts and began to inch it towards the invisible slip just under the desktop so she could return to it later.

"Lady Aislinn… sorry for the intrusion, yet I couldn't help but notice a distinct lack of your presence at dinner. Are you well?"

The aforementioned Fae King stepped into her chambers regally and let the door shut almost noiselessly behind him, mismatched gaze roaming over her room before herself. Then he smiled too, although far more faintly, and tilted his head.

Beneath her mask, she sneered at him. All these birdlike qualities that ran through the High House of the city. In Nocte, no one flew. No one who wanted to live, that is.

Instead, she ducked her head a little sheepishly, allowing a few tendrils of her hair to fall in from of her face and obscure it from view.

"I apologise, my liege. I… I was feeling a little homesick and retired to my chambers to write a letter to my family back on the Isles. My pardons if I caused you any unnecessary concern" she raised her gaze to him and batted her lashes, "I assure you, I am quite fine."

Smiling tightly, he nodded and stepped towards her further. "Then may I trouble you for your company now?"

Her eyes cast down to her side in the direction of her letter, she stayed silent for a few moments before straightening her back and pushing her best apologetic expression onto her face.

"I… I'm afraid now is not a good time, my darling, you see; I have much to complete tonight for the festivities tomorrow which your Uncle has decided to throw in our favour. Many such activities that, well…"

"I could perchance aid you in your endeavours?"

"Personal activities, my dear Jareth. But do not fret… we will have the rest of eternity together after we are married."

She opened her arms to him and he stepped into her embrace, pulling her into his chest and looking over the top of her head towards the windows which were latched up tight.

Aislinn's expression twisted into a scowl where it was now pressed against him, the hands smoothing over his shirt itching to claw at him for daring to bother her without her express permission. How dare he come to her chambers without her summons? Did he honestly believe that because she dropped in by him, to keep tabs on his goings on, that he could do the same with her?

No.

The smaller blonde stepped back and smiled again, caressing his cheek then pulling her hand back to herself with another smile. "Till tomorrow. I shall wait."

"I'll count the hours."

When the door shut behind him at last, she turned towards the dark corner of the room and snapped her fingers. Immediately, Aliannah stepped out into the receiving area where she could be seen and Aislinn fixed her with a stern expression.

"Are you completely certain that you heard Xavior and Jareth correctly? There can be no room for error. If we are to act, then our hand must be steady and true."

The ebony skinned Fae bowed her head and nodded, "I have never been more certain in my life."

"I see."

Aislinn retook her seat and sharply gestured at her companion to join her, eyes staring at the door where the king had recently left their presence. So naïve, as to not even notice that they hadn't been alone.

"We cannot act until I am married, as otherwise my claims and whereabout might be challenged. Your services here are no longer required."

Aliannah barely hid her relief as she clasped her hands over her knees. "Then shall I finally return home, to the south?"

Aislinn looked at her as if she had just climbed out a refuse pit, then a laugh bubbled out of her, expression turned incredulous as she took a large sip of wine. "Home? My dear Aliannah, I fear you entirely misunderstand. I said here, as in Terauramulis. Your original contract is still in effect, signed with your life blood."

"But-"

"But?! Aliannah, are you defying me right now?" she asked dangerously quietly, setting her glass sown and sitting forward, "You are under my employ, to gather as much as you can on that… that parasite, until I release you from your bond. Which part of that was entirely unclear to you?"

Aliannah stayed silent.

"Are you regretting your choice to aid me, Aliannah? Do you want out of this arrangement? Because I can release you prematurely, if you wish, and I will take the greatest pleasure in doing so."

Aliannah paled and shook her head, hands bunching in her skirts. "N-no, no, my Lady. I am yours to command."

"You chance to forget yourself. I'd hate to have to make an example out of you."

Aislinn swiped up her glass again and took a long swallow, not offering any of the bottle in front of her to the other Fae. For a long moment they sat in silence, the fire dwindling down against the coals into embers, the wine in the bottle rapidly disappearing.

"I need to know what she's up to so I can protect against her. If she moves against me, I have to be prepared to take her out. This is as much for my safety as it is for yours, don't you see this, Aliannah?"

The dark fae nodded her head, once more.

"Oh, get out of my sight, you're depressing me. I expect a new report in a week's turn- find out what that friend of her's, Jaque, is up to. I have a bad feeling about him."

"As you wish, Princess."

"What have you done…"

Yennifer wrung her hands as she paced the floor in front of her, whilst Lavanya stayed seated and staring at the floor, looking lost. Their glasses of wine lay abandoned on a nearby table near Nuallán's bust though neither of them allowed themselves to look in his direction. If there was a chance he could hear this conversation in an afterlife, then he would no doubt strive to find a way back to fight it.

"I was trying my best by your son, my nephew, to help him regain his composure and his Kingdom. It's falling into ruins, Lavanya, utter ruins, and so is he. I just… I thought, that If I could find him a match to mend that hole that is billowing like an icy storm through his soul that I could save him from himself."

"And you chose to mimic the lost love of his life? Are you truly so sadistic under this façade of compassion, Yen?! What were you thinking?!"

"How was I to know it would end like this? WHATEVER this IS?!"

Lavanya swiped a hand across the air and silenced her, eyes blazing. "You would do well not to raise your voice to me within my own home. That is enough."

The other fae threw up her hands and dropped into a nearby seat with defeated grace, not bothering to fix her skirts or apologise. Instead she grabbed her glass and drained it, then sat and toyed with the stem.

"We still don't know who murdered Lady Deidre, or why. Or, for that matter, how. We have no intel that could have been passed on so there is no direction or lead to take that will lead us to how they knew she was travelling in the first place. But she was robbed of her fae. She died a mortal."

Lavanya sucked in a sharp breath and dropped her head into her hands. "Then who is this… This Aislinn that he is now betrothed to?"

"Her father contacted me shortly after Jareth's explosion in court, which as you can expect sent out a few ripples. He offered her hand and I was not in a position to refuse- that choice alone was Jareth's. I was hoping for Lady Deidre to arrive before her so he would have had an easier one to make."

"And why couldn't you refuse?!"
Yennifer looked scared, biting down on her lip as she raised her gaze. Then softly, oh so quietly, she said "She's the Princess from the Isle of Nocte."

Tears welled in Lavanya's eyes and she covered her mouth. "N-no…"

"With the bridges we are trying to mend with our relations, refuting a betrothal could have ended up in yet another war which this City has striven to avoid since its erection. I had to accept it, graciously, and pray to the Goddess for luck. But her attention was taken elsewhere on that night."

"My son… my only son is getting married to a monster because of you!"
"Be that as it may, I feared it was far past time that you were told what was going on. I didn't have to tell you anything but out of the courtesy for a mother-"

"You have no kids, how could you possible presume to imagine how this would feel?"

Yennifer's face became pinched. "We agreed we'd never speak of that."

"We also agreed that while you're the one sat in that oversized chair in that oversized palace, that you would look after my son. And instead, you've thrown him straight into the firing line with no idea of what's coming to him. So talk of your apparent infertility is hardly off the table anymore."

Yennifer stayed silent. Slowly, it dawned on Lavanya, and her eyes widened incredulously as her mouth dropped open. "You haven't told him about Deirdre, have you? Have you?"

"I haven't had the chance! Ardál only just told Eanraig and I in court, he returned a few days ago yet we were too preoccupied with planning the wedding to receive him. And now I'm telling you. I don't even know where Jareth is right now!"

"Then find him! Or I will- Fade, ask Eanraig if he's seen him!"

"I can't! I don't know where he went off to either!"

"For the love of the Fae, Yennifer! What do you know?!"

Yennifer stood up slowly, yet only long enough to sit down next to Lavanya and take her hands in hers. Squeezing them tightly as she swallowed and did her best to choose her words as carefully as she could. The room became eerily quiet, the marble eyes of Nuallán seemingly watching them rather intently for a statue. Lavanya looked at her just as intently yet there was deep concern written into the wrinkles of her furrowed brow, a deep sadness and loneliness in her gaze.

"Anya... I believe it is time to bring you back into Aurea. The people listen to you, they still look to you for guidance. They have only ever looked at me as Eanraig's wife… though perhaps that is my own doing. You still have contacts and your scrying could be all we have left to keep an eye on Jareth before the wedding, before he leaves to fly back to his kingdom. I need you to come back to court."

She blanched. "Court? I renounced that the day I came up my crown! How can you expect me to leave my home and step back into those halls as some sort of lackey?!"

Yennifer pulled desperately at her hands, her grip tightening tenfold. "Not my lackey, my- Our friend. I believed I was doing the right thing by you by giving you this house, by asking you to leave the palace. I believed I was freeing you from any ghosts that might haunt you, a new start. I can see that I was wrong."

"I have built a life here for myself and Nuallán, Yen. I cannot just leave it."

"Then you don't have to permanently, just... just for now. Just until we can figure something out. Please, Anya, please don't abandon us. Don't turn your back on your son."

"My son reside's within those walls, what tells you that he will not take flight and leave the moment he bespies me? He has not spoken to me in centuries, not even at his engagement celebration. He does not want me in his life anymore."

"But he needs you. Regardless of whatever mixed up feelings he harbours now, it is nothing when compared to the potential imminence of his future! Aislinn has not shown her cards yet, is by all means nothing like the Fae from that Isle, yet I feel sick when I am around her. I cannot abide her presence. And I fear she has... she's done something to our beloved Jareth."

"...What do you mean by that?"

Yennifer looked pained, patting her hand. "Perhaps I am merely being paranoid."

"I highly doubt it. You're an empath, are you not? We have had to trust in your council and judgement many times before now."

"…Eanraig invited Baran and Arlyn to the palace last quarter, I believe to also help Jareth with his misgivings and help him get back on a steadier path. At any rate, they saw him acting strangely after being in her presence. He appears medicated, his disposition changes, he becomes very agreeable to her whims."

"Sounds like love."

"I believed so too, until I witnessed it for myself. When she doesn't pay him attention or seems to "release" him, he becomes as emotionless as a rock. He stops caring about anything, let alone his Kingdom or his future. Audibly gives her free reign then takes his leave. Typically, it takes him hours to come back from it, through which time he merely stands or sits staring at nothing. The physician wails that he will not allow him to tend him."

"He never welcomed medical help before now, it would appear age has not change that."

"Indeed, it has not."

"It still sounds like he's lovesick."

Yennifer sighed frustratedly. "Then it's entirely orchestrated as I don't feel love coming from him. I can't feel anything unless they've been apart for a few days and his real self comes through. I know what Jareth is like when he is in love, and when he's lost it. He shut you out after he lost Her, but I was there to see what it did to him."

"I saw it from afar. Would that I could have helped him move on or given him what he craved. Would that she had been old enough to understand."

Yennifer pulled her attention back to their clasped hands. "Please... please think about this, instead of immediately throwing up barriers. Aurea is your home, and you are more than welcome to come back. I believe your presence might save Jareth, if only for a spell. I doubt she will act so ostentatiously around his mother as she does around his subjects and his relatives."

Lavanya stood, staring at her husband's carve likeness for a moment or so. Then she nodded. "I will think about it and give you my answer overmorrow. Thank you, Yen. For now, I need time."

"Of course."

She took her leave, throwing a shawl over her hair as she stepped out into the cool night air. Then Lavanya rushed back to her, grabbing her hand before she left fully.

"Anya?"

Remembering Jaque and his hand, the former Queen pulled herself to her full height and loosed a breath. "Choilleach. Send him to me, as soon as you return. I am in serious need of his council."

"As you wish."

Then she was gone too, and all Lavanya could do was close her door and hope that the world would not change again so fervently before the next dawn. For now she had to pray. For Jaque, for Jareth. For the safety of them all.