The Underground

The moment he didn't have to touch her anymore, Jareth let Elspeth go. Ironically that moment occured about the same time she looked him in the eyes and he caught her startled expression at the realization that one eye looked diffrent than the other. Jareth knew that most people assumed his irises were diffrent colors. One being a blue green and the other practically black. But the truth was Jareth's pupil on one side was perpetually open to its widest point and thus dominated the middle of his eye. It was generally startling to people who ever bothered to really take a good look at him and almost no one ever considered wondering why he looked that way or the effect the anomoly had on the Goblin King's sensory experiances.

For his part when Jareth caught a glimpse into Elpeth's eyes, he mourned for her. The anger and hostility she presented on the surface was nothing more than a mask covering a much deeper hurt. A hurt she undoubtedly held him responsible for.

Its only forever
Not long at all
Lost and lonely,
That's Underground...

Jareth knew he would have to tread carefully with the Empyrean. The temptation to hurt her in order to free her would be strong in him. At this point cruelty would be the only thing she would trust from him. She was so young. Old by human standards perhaps, but young by his. He pitied her for it. While Jareth knew he was not responsible for the things Ozias implied she was accusing him of, Jareth suspected that someone somewhere was culpable somehow and he did not look forward to the day when the truth was foxed out.

But the Goblin King had little time to think on these matters fore he felt Mab arrive with the rest of the High Council. Her presence was like a balmy summer fragrantly blossoming all at once with sudden opressive yet alluring warm. For an irrational two seconds Jareth instinctually wanted to grabbed Elspeth and drag her behind him as if to shield her from Mab's gaze which was trully timesless, all knowing, and all seeing.

Jareth's eyes swiftly scanned the room for Ozias who he knew was not far from Elspeth. Even though he and Jareth were friends, at any sign of impropriety Ozias would have intervened to protect and defend the Empryean and wouldn't have hesistedd to cause perminent bodily harm against Jareth if the situation had warrented. Butr for now Jareth wanted to hand Elspeth off so that Ozias could help get her out of the way as Queen Mab and her Council annouced themselves. Jareth as both the host and one of Mab's favorite children would be expected to come to her side as emmediatly as possible.

"Mab, she's here. Go." Jareth warned under his breath just audibley enough for Elspeth to hear him.

Jareth's tone and alert expression was less dominating and more full of acute consern that not even he was probably aware was desernable.

As though appearing out of nowhere, but in fact having actually trailed the light processional of blue-and-sunshine-clad attendants, Sayer's heavy armor clanking along with him as he took his steps forward in order to stand a respectable distance away. He watched the awkward exchange and denied himself a chuckle. The tiny Empyrean lacked the height and trained grace of her predecessors—nearly all of them—and the sight of the white-clad young woman next to the indomitable Jareth was almost comic.

For a split-second, he pitied his younger cousin. He remembered being remarkably jealous as a child when he discovered it would be her that would inherit the throne and not him. He used to stare at the royal baby, measuring himself against her and trying hard to determine what made her so special; she was a baby, after all. One day Elspeth's father, his uncle Ansel, clapped him on the shoulder and invited him to come talk to him outside. The precocious youngster begrudgingly followed along, believing he'd been in trouble for his nearly-treasonous thoughts. Surprisingly, The then-Empyrean, also golden-haired like himself, followed him down the long hallway to the large courtyard primarily used for military ceremonial events. A massive brigade of troops stood packed in formation, holding still. No sounds could be heard—not even a rustle of collective breathing. The late Empyrean clapped a hand on his shoulder and groused proudly, "When you're Keeper, this will be yours. This is your reward after I'm gone and you've taken care of Elspeth."

Suddenly, the youngster decided that being The Empyrean didn't have as many perks as being Keeper.

Sayer watched Jareth take Elspeth's wrist. His training had part of his consciousness on guard despite being long-acquainted with the Goblin King. The moment didn't last long; Jareth's quick instructions to have Elspeth taken to her spot as Mab arrived were heeded, the tall man stepping ahead gracefully to guide the white-clad royal to her spot amongst the emissaries standing in front of the great crowd.

The crowd all slowly turned to the great vast doors at the far end of the hall moving back a bit to make room more out of a sense of collective respect than necessity. All parted the was as well between the long walkway and Jareth's enthroning area where his party all stood in their raised box.

Zade who had been standing near Sayer originally moved away from him slowly towards the closed doors and the room filled with pregnant anticipation and heavy magic. Slowly Zade made her way to the side of one grand door. Her white robs dripping in gold bangles and accents native to her home land. In her good time she turned to the amassed crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen. The High Council thanks you greatly for your willingness to be with us on this day. The Centennial Ball is a time of communion between all people and beings. All of our destinies entwine along a single great tapestry of existence. In this place and time we come together, lost children in a vast wilderness of life, myth, and magic. All of you are beloved to us and in this time and place we are all equal, all united as one force. We are the children of legend, myth, and legacy. May our stories never be forgotten, may we come together in unity and peace always. In Queen Mab's eyes were are all her children and as such, she has come here this night, out of love and devotion to us all." At the end of her speech Zade bowed deeply to the crowd as the doors swung gently open and unseen trumpets sounded announcing the entrance of the other lesser Council members.

The procession was lead by the Childlike empress who was presently laying upon a great silk pillow twice her size. She was clearly still in full repose. Curled like a cat upon the pillow looking sickly but presently at peace. The pillow was being carried by willowy faes who moved so seamlessly that they were hardly noticeable.

Next, a few feet behind was the tall and broad Glinda of Oz. Her hair was a dark auburn and fell practically to her waist in wild ringlets curls against her white and gold dress. Her look was regal and honorable as she waited for Zade to join them in the procession, her middle aged beauty was stunning and full of wisdom and strength.

Finally, came Mab herself.

Broad and womanly as if she'd given birth a thousand times over and knew both the pain and joy of it. Though she was beyond middle aged in appearance her beauty was timeless and familar. Stoic yet warm. Inflexible yet accommodating. Her expression was mysterious and her presence weird and otherworldly. Her skirts were layered thick and long flowing and her dress was adorned with flowers, seeds, and and nuts. Her power and majesty was palpable and not a single person in the room felt as if they could hide from her knowing and all seeing gaze as she both scrutinized and accepted all that was around her. Escorting the high Fairy into the room was Mr. Tumnus, a jovial sort of fawn and only male council member who had long been in the services of the Pevensies. Of the lot of them, Mr. Tumnus looked the happiest to be there as he waved and nodded to the crowd.

The procession walked a quarter of the way into the hall when Mab put up her hand and in a voice that filled the entire room without forcing her to raise her voice, she said. "We come in Friendship, Fidelity, and Peace; to right what has been left broken and undone as well as to celebrate what is still good and whole. Our world is a fragile thing that many of us are compelled to take for granted. May you all be grateful for what you have achieved, for who and what you are, and for why you are all here. Your presence among us goes beyond unity and gracious joy, you are the embodiment of our greatest hopes and our most compelling wishes. Not everything we do in this place will be happy, but we must all try to see the wisdom and more importantly the opportunity of it. Who comes to take my hand?"

"I do." Jareth approached the procession slowly and with great purpose. His eyes were narrowed as he locked his gaze on Queen Mab who was both rival and mother to him. Both is redeemer and his judge. how he loved and was oppressed by her.

"Come onward, O' King of the Goblins and make thy self known." Mab's own words were articulated carefully and in a calculated fashion as she watched him approach showing no fear or superiority about it.

We have come to test you.

The other lesser Council Members moved aside so that Jareth could approach. The tension in the room was high and fine. For a moment Jareth stood before Queen Mab's direct presence. A presence that would have made a lesser person quiver where they stood at that range.

Jareth held steady though and when Mab extended her hand to him Jareth sunk down before her on both knees and hung his head in tribute to her, not in submission but tribute. "I am your faithful servant, welcome to my home, Aunt."

"Jareth, I do think you mean your lair. Don't confuse the two ideas. Now rise and by all means introduce me to you're party. I dare say, I think I see some interesting faces." Mab remarked as she implored him to rise and take her arm.

All of this was clearly heard by everyone in the space.

Mab approached Joby and the others directly, but she was looking at Joby specifically.

Mab felt a sense of internal satisfaction as she gazed down on the face that she had ruled the fate of just a short time ago. It sometimes took her by surprise how Above humans grew and aged so rapidly. Wasn't it just some days ago whenever she sentenced Marten of Astraea to his exile? She caught the girl's eyes, and right then every corner of her heart sprang into Mab's view.

Within she found a marvelous spirit intertwined with a dark saboteur. She knew her history already and of the bargain that saved her, but she never had to bear witness to the repercussions of her judgment before. She saw pain, a little girl being viciously told of some false unworthiness by the one who was supposed to love her above all things. She could hear the echoes of those lies following the child even now in her life long struggle with self-doubt.

It had been a very, very long time since Mab had second guessed a judgment.

When making calls on behalf of other nations, she always accounted for their sovereignty and personal wishes. Marten's actions threw his already unstable nation into a state of sheer panic. The near loss of the unicorn foal sparked fears that Lord Darkness would return again. When news arrived that the prince had fathered a child, people feared that she too would bring darkness and ruin. Dedric was adamant about barring her from his world. Many other places were enduring dark times and agreed that bringing the half-Above child of a cursed man would bring further instability within the Underground. She respected the wishes of the kingdom and ruled accordingly.

But now, as she stood before what had sparked so much fear and controversy, she saw an incredible light. Mab sensed the Above blood churning, but the girl seemed so perfectly fitted for the Underground. Indeed, she had been pulled into their world because of some tremendous need for her presence. The Underground wanted her. Despite the efforts of Astraea, The High Council, and even herself, the girl made it home. The slightest hint of a smile played across Mab's stoic face. Even at her age, fate still sprang up from behind to give her a pleasant surprise.

"A fine representative you have chosen indeed, Jareth."

Humor subtly tinted her voice. The man had not the foggiest idea that the girl that stood before him was the very same child he had once whisked away from her tragic home.

The girl began to falter at last before her. Mab sensed the all too familiar feeling of nakedness that most of the Underground felt when standing before her. She held the girls gaze just a moment more.

She had power too, a strong link to the natural world just like her grandfather. Mab saw the budding, pure magic within her. The girl seemed to be somewhat aware of her abilities, but not yet convinced that they were hers. The pure magic stirred within her like a wild hope; it could very well bring Light to Astraea once again.

But...
Mab paused.

Something else lingered there too. Something still dormant, but she didn't know for how long. Something dark, heavy, and cold curled around the warmth and the brilliance. The curse managed to even cross worlds. The child had never been safe from it.

Oh, but the girl finally broke free from her gaze. Mab realized that the poor thing nearly trembled before her. She had peered within her a little too long. Nobody seemed to ever care for being cracked open. Mab poured feelings of love and calm towards the nervous girl.

"We are all honored and grateful for your presence, Miss Jones. I'm sure the kingdom thanks you for your part in representing the link between Above and Under."

Jareth waited for Mab to quietly acknowledge the others while he kept a more nonchalant eye on Joby as well. Carefully noting Mab's choice of words regarding the girl. There was still a great mystery about the woman. A matter Jareth had not had time to follow up on when she first arrived. Mab saw something in her though, something Jareth had sensed but had not wanted to unearth. Because Joby had not directly bargained with him, Jareth had resisted the temptation to look inside her dreams and sentiments and now he was even more glad that he hadn't pried. Whatever Mab saw, it was likely something she knew to some degree before she arrived. The fact that she wasn't making her thoughts known proved that Mab had reason's to protect the girl's privacy for the moment.

When he saw Joby begin to falter a little under Mab's scrutiny he signaled Mag to help support her discretely from behind since he was unable to break form himself and assist her. He did agree however with Queen Mab that it was right for Joby to be there standing with them.

The thought conjoured up unexpected images of Sarah Williams, another raven haired human who, under different circumstances might have been the one to face Queen Mab as Joby was doing now. There was a connection point there that Jareth didn't like to speculate on. He was sure she wasn't a Williams relation and he was also sure now that they he and Joby had some kin of connection to each other. A connection Mab knew of and found to be amusing.

Jareth wasn't amused. The whole business of the Ball and the parties in attendance felt invented and it greatly disturbed him to know that something was being planned around him without his awareness or consent.

Nevertheless, there was little Jareth could do about it just then. He would play his part for the moment and when time allowed, try to make sense of it all.

"Come, Mab. Your place awaits."

"Yes." Queen Mab remarked in passing as she allowed Jareth to escort her to the slightly raised throne so that she could address the amassed. "Well now. Why don't we feast and make merry. I will take hearings with the individual kingdoms in stride."

Mab then leaned slightly towards Jareth who was standing beside her. "In spite of everything, you still never cease to surprise us William. Your actions both distant and near have a way of coming full circle in a most shocking fashion."

"I am as your great design intended me to be, O' Aunt." Jareth replied flatly.

"My design, is it? Trust me child, if your character were of my design alone we wouldn't be sitting here together in this place." Mab replied idly.

"A placeholder, Majesty. That is all I am so far as the High Council is concerned." Jareth was not going to allow Mab to get under his skin just yet.

"Your words and not mine, child. I always found it curious how little you value your own abilities." Mab dug a bit further.

"I am your servant, Majesty. But you and the Council are not my first priority and never will be so long as I hold this place." It was almost a threat.

Mab was most satisfied.

"Indeed. Be careful, William. Your time in this place is a fragile thing." Mab warned.

"Nothing lasts forever, Mab. Not even in the Underground. You know that better than I. Let us not quarrel just yet, shall we? Whatever it is you and the others have come here to do, I will be waiting. In the meantime, let us be…friends."

The entire conversation was spoken in low tones between them, Mab could conceal as much as she could project.

"Do me one favor William…" Mab mentioned.

"I saw. I will attend to her as best I can, Mab. You should not have made her come, now that she is away from Fantasia and outside the refuge of the Ivory Tower she will weaken. I will do what I can for her while she's here, but you must allow the Childlike Empress to leave this place as soon as possible. Whatever you have planned, do it quickly." A hint of anger swept through his final words." As Jareth bowed stiffly and excused himself for a moment.

Before he could quite get away from her Queen Mab added onto her request in after thought.

She glanced across the hall where the two Astraean princes stood. Marten looked on, standing rather stiffly and carefully avoiding her gaze. She could feel the searing pangs of his shame burning afresh in the presence of the jury that sentenced him.

She turned toward her escort who had made it as far as the other side of her chair.

"Oh and Jareth, whenever you permit your representative a brief break of her duties, might I suggest she show Prince Marten around the garden? I dearsay he looks dreadfully uncomfortable already and I think he would appreciate a moment away from the crowds. It seems Miss Jones here possesses a particular fondness for plants, and I think she'd find some delight in earning about his kingdom's eternal state of Spring."

Jareth physically paused at this request. What was the blasted fairy up to now?

Nothing Queen Mab said or did was without meaning or purpose.

"As you wish...My Lady." jareth didn't bother to hid the suspicious air in his tone and dislike of the order but nevertheless he was duty bound to obey most of her requests and orders. This was definitely an order since she made sure to call the Goblin King by his titled name instead of the private one she sometimes used when she wished to speak to him in confidence.

Turning his head slightly, Jareth signal to the small goblin disguised as a child (all the rest had been enchanted as adults and Hoggle had been left as he was) in the tutu. Tilly-whim came to him like sprite with nothing but wide eyes-childlike love and affection on her small face. Kneeling down to the goblin's level, Jareth whispered something into her ear and pointed to Joby. Tilly-whim and nooded then scampered back to where she stood with the rest pulling gently on Joby's dress to get her attention.

"Master Jareth has requested you do him the favor of escorting Prince Marten to the fruit garden as he is momentary being called to attend to another guest. He suspects you will both benefit from a stint of fresh air and he wants you to know that if you or the prince are in need of him later he will be in the lounge room to the far west...Over there. I would like to add that we all think your doing just splendidly! All of us are so glad you have come." Go now if you like." Besides Hoggle and the others on the dias Tilly-whim was the only goblin in attendance with the privilage of being able to speak to others and fully show her face.

Joby sat comfortably next to Mag as she watched Jareth receive the procession of royals. She had soon forgotten about trying to maintain a visage of stoicism before the dazzling sights. She watched in awe as the hall filled with the flesh and blood versions of the heroes she once thought only existed in the books she loved.

"Oh, Mag take a look at that." she'd whisper excitedly to her companion who had more than likely seen her fair share of wondrous things growing up in the Labyrinth.

The procession of Astraea particularly caught Joby's attention, but she couldn't ascertain as to why. It certainly didn't have the widest variety of magical beings and it was by no means the most enchanting spectacle, but something about it drew her in. The clothing looked largely reminiscent of the Middle Ages. The vision conjured memories of story book pictures, and the sound of the music made her heart swell so tremendously, she swore she felt it aching.

She noticed Jareth and Mab approach. She retained a dignified disposition as they came near.

When the Faerie Queen approached, she could feel an incredible power practically emanate from her. She could feel herself shrink from the intimidating figure. Her heartbeat quickened as her eyes traveled towards her face. She didn't want to meet Mab's gaze, but her eyes were being pulled in her direction. She never knew such eyes. They were old, so very old and reflected eons of secret and sacred knowledge. She knew her whole soul was open and readable to the ancient being and Joby was terrified.

She didn't know how she managed to tear her gaze away. She felt Mag grab her arm and help seat her as Jareth escorted the queen to her seat.

____________

Marten watched the Above girl endure the face-to-face greeting with Mab. He felt a twinge of sympathy for her. It hadn't been so long ago that he too had a most unfortunate meeting with her. She took no mercy. She flayed him apart until every great and minuscule secret was known to her. His ensuing feeling of weakness was much greater. He was actually surprised that the girl wasn't any more affected by those prying eyes.

He felt the smack of a palm against his chest and saw that Dedric was giving him a sheet of paper.

"Right," said Dedric. "Why don't you start with Oz? There's been an uptick in demand for Ozian emeralds. It's a small task, I'm sure you can handle it. Meanwhile, I'm going to chat with some Nodlings about drawing an export trade contract..." He had already strode a few paces away when he quickly turned on his heel and walked back to Marten.

"By the way. Did you detect any sort of tension between Jareth and the Empyrean?"

Marten shrugged.

"I suppose so," he said. "But I don't understand why that's something worth being noted."

"Why not?"

Marten raised his eyebrows. Did he actually know something his gossip and scandal loving brother did not?

"Because it had been arranged for Jareth to marry the now Lady Empyrean before he broke off the engagement."

____________

Dedric had even forgotten that the new Empyrean had even been crowned much less been betrothed to the Goblin King. Visits from the distant sky kingdom were a rarity, so Dedric had heard little news from there besides the devastating epidemic. However, he always made sure he was up to date on the customs. "I'll be sure to give her a warmest of greetings. Can't imagine what the poor lady had to suffer through after such a ridiculous rejection. Can you imagine someone in her position getting dropped by that?"

He turned and resumed his work. He smiled and shook hands enthusiastically among the nobility. He flexed his expert skills in forigen relations as he effortlessly adjusted his manners to suit the varying people. When at last, the Empyrean came in to his sight, he knew how to greet her in proper fashion. First, he approached her armor clad companion and bowed.

"Honorable Keeper, may I humbly ask for just a brief word with your Lady?"

He stood before Elspeth and bowed.

"Lady Empyrean, on behalf of the kingdom of Astraea, I want to tell you that we are thrilled and privileged to have you and your people among us. I'm sure this task was not an easy one, but we must all entrust that Mab has her reasons for choosing her host. However, between you and me, I'm quite surprised he managed to whip this heap into something presentable. But these are nothing more than Illusions, my lady." He gestured towards the decorum

"Cheap parlor tricks, that's all he knows. And the Empyrean is far, far worthier than some deflated magician and his hordes of little monsters."

Sayer rolled his eyes dramatically and turned about to avoid having to watch Dedric, who'd broken in before having a chance to obtain his approval. He'd briefly met him once during his travels from lands distant from The Empyrean. He shook an errant lock of hair out of his eyes as he half-listened to the conversation and half-watched the crowd, full of familiar faces, many of those he'd seen during those travels. He waved a friendly hello to Snow White, and marveled at the attire Sir Didymus had chosen for the occasion. He gave a respectful nod to Madmartigan and Aslan, both talking to one another for what must have been the first time since the last Centennial Ball.

It was then that he finally spotted Scheherazade, both her beautiful skin and white robes making her bask in a glow that made her stood out from the others around her as she stood speaking to a growing group of enraptured guests, smitten with every word she spoke. He blinked as he felt his chest tug. She really was a lovely woman, he observed to himself as he still maintained a listening ear on the two royals behind him.

# # #

Elspeth eyed the Astraean prince carefully as she listening to his well-practiced voice speak to her as though more familiar with her than he really was. She tilted her head as she considered what could possibly lead this Astraean to come to her so aggressively. She'd always been taught to not be too trusting too quickly--something she knew she was susceptible to. She truly did want to be outwardly demonstrative of her good feelings... but always felt as though making any error would cause some kind of horrific problem she couldn't think or figure her way out of.

Maybe she was constantly afraid.

... the thought had never hit her before.

She smiled behind her mask. Maybe it was time to stop being afraid.

"Prince Dedric," she greeted brightly, concealing her surprise over him slighting the host of the event. She dutifully extended a hand toward him. Despite the fact that hearing him say such things truly was gratifying, she wasn't sure about divulging her feelings. Or her secret. The one that Sayer didn't even know. Or the fact that she almost felt an electric sense of familiarity when finally locking eyes with Jareth. A strange feeling. Almost as though a white buzz lifted the stress and disdain from her mind and allowed her a brief moment of calm. The moment where she might have considered that he wasn't a monster.

She blinked her eyes. She admonished herself briefly. She knew better than that. Jareth's charms were no match for her own psychological resilience.

"I trust your journey treated you well!" she stated politely. She turned her eyes to focus on his response, and suddenly felt the pierce of his blue eyes capture her attention. She quickly surveyed his face. He was handsome. She'd always heard that Prince Dedric was easy on the eyes. To her, that was an understatement. She smiled behind her mask and blushed. Maybe her hunt for a suitable husband wouldn't be too difficult here...

She blinked. No. No sense in getting ahead of herself. Besides, that's not what she was there to do.

And then it hit her. That familiarity with how he spoke to her about Jareth...

... did he know?

There were many many things on the goblin kings mind as he maneuvered with ease and flawless grace through the crowd. It was easy to do when the goblins were trained to stay out of his way at these kinds of functions and when the reality was that many of the people in attendance either weren't sure how to approach him or had little desire to unless they had business to conduct. So much the better, Jareth thought darkly. In spite of the many who were indifferent to him or worse, Jareth had powerful allies too. Two of whom who were on the High Council itself and whom he was on his way to interact with.

Unlike most of the rest of the high council who had members of their own cultures with them the Child-like Empress had come alone because in most ways she stood alone and was more solitary than almost everyone else there. Although she had stirred slightly since her entrance into the great hall it was clear that she was unwell and barely aware of her surrounds.

As he neared the large silk pillow where the empress still lounged, Glinda halted him. A unshakable protectiveness over the empress was present in every move, but familiarity and warm shone in her eyes towards Jareth softening her.

"Jareth, I am glad you are come. I know Mab's requests of you may seem unreasonable..." She began sympathetically.

"I am not doing this for Mab." Jareth interjected tensely cutting glinda off. "Atryu should have come in her place as her proxy. As long as he holds the AURYN he is empowered to speak on her behalf. Not that the childlike Empress is expected to do more than utter her verdict. I can guess what this means and whatever happens I'm not going to bother trying to sway you or the rest. My record and circumstances all these centuries speak for themselves. I ask only that you not forget the things I've done for some of the great kingdoms. Things I was not obligated to do. I ask that you remember for you and the Empress not as a means for leniency but as a means of making the facts known. All of them. Please, Gle'n do your very best. That is all I ask in the matter."

Glinda nodded and said no more about the subject.

"we need to move her. there's too much stimuli here and she needs to be allowed to rest without isolating her from everyone. I promise I wont hurt her Gle'n. Will you allow me?"

Glinda didn't respond but did step aside to allow Jareth to approach the Empress.

Jareth neared the Empress and nelt down reaching out to brush her pale face. Even if she didn't recognize him by sight in her delirium, she would know his touch and not be afraid. Jareth pulled back a second to pull off his black kit gloves offering a rare glimpse of his hands, which were long with narrow artistic fingers. Though his palms were smooth if one looked carefully there were subtle thin white lines all over them that indicated that at one time they had seen the abuses of hard labor and also likely violence and other abuses. Jareth touched her face again, the skin on skin contact triggering the Empress to look up at him with watery gold iris eyes that barely could focus on him. Jareth could feel the traces of a low fever that had likely just broke which was why she was more alert than when she first arrived.

"William..." The empress said his special name on an exhale.

"Rest, my little friend. It is I." Jareth said soothingly.

He then half rose and backed off a moment. Quickly flagging down the nearest goblin serve.

"You there. Help me get out of this damn thing." Jareth was referring to his black mantle and cloak which would be impractical for what he was about to do.

The enchanted goblin quickly put down her tray and assisted him with removing his shoulder and breast plates.

"Give it here, thank you. You may go." Jareth took his mantel and with one forceful pull ripped the fabric of his cloak from it.

Glinda was nice enough to take the rest of the armor plates from him handing them off to another server.

Surprisingly, though the cloak was black on one side, it was lined with white silk on the interior which Jareth had probably manipulated at the last minute to match the Empress's colors which were always white. Jareth arraigned the fabric so the white was facing out and used it to effectively wrap the seeming petite ten year old and lift her into his arms. Without ceremony Jareth turned and with Glinda in tow to show that he was acting under supervision, swiftly carried the Empress against him to the lounge which was a smaller open door room that at the moment was not thickly occupied. Most who observed this looked shocked, confused, surprised or disproving of Jareth as he carried the High Council member into the lounge with Glinda and the goblin who had taken his armor in tow. The business was quite a scene and when Jareth headed for the lounge the crowd parted both out of respect to the high council members and because most who saw him coming saw that Jareth was in no mood to maneuver around them if the got in his way.

Now in nothing but his white poet shirt from the wast up and the armor from the waist down, Jareth's appearance was greatly softened despite his wild hair, arching brows, and aristocratic features.

Jareth settled himself in a shell like chair and adjusted the bundle in his arms. The extra fabric of his cloak draped down over the side and the empress looked even smaller in her wrapping. More like a child of five or six as she clung to Jareth who hummed in a low tone and rocked her occasionally. Meanwhile he held the empress in such a way that her temple rested gently against the horned amulet that was visible around his neck.

"You are with me, Empress. Sleep now and share in my power. In me all that the world can imagine is yours. Dream sweet dreams for both of us. I promise you will return to your refuge soon."

Although she wasn't really a child, in this moment Jareth treated her with all the care he usually reserved for one. And after awhile, as she slipped deeper int repose and shared in the flow of imagination Jareth held aside for her her white glow turned a soft blue and gradually her appearance began to improve. Jareth, for his part managed his link to her well enough though it was clear that the business was a strain on him personally. He was already fueling so much into the illusions around him that it was a wonder he had enough in reserve to add this to it.

Mab was no fool though. While the childlike empress really would benefit from his efforts Mad was personally more interested in gauging how the public reacted to this nurturing, caring, and self sacrificing side of him. At the core this display was a direct reflection of who Jareth really was.

A man who cared far more about others than he did for himself.

With that, the first assembly of the Centennial Ball was adjourned. Joby took a moment to suppress some very old memories that Mab had somehow drew from her. She rose from her seat, thankful that the most dreaded part of her duties had ended. She happily bid her friends farewell as one by one they scattered to their own stations.

Joby had been told that she would soon be escorted by a man from the Enchanted Forest. She slowly entered the crowds shooting glances at every man with long blonde hair that she saw (there were several) but none seemed to register who she was.

She saw Jareth approach the curtained box that held the childlike empress. He came out with the fragile girl held aloft in his arms. She wasn't aware of the concerned and fearful mutterings around her. Her eyes grew wide and she watched with a sort of fascination as he carried the girl away from the bustling people. The vision had recalled one of the memories that had flashed in her mind under Mab's dissection. She remembered the chilly nipping of a November night as the air rushed at her small windbreaker and nightgown. She remembered watching a long black cloak trail behind a shoulder that she had peeked behind to see the world rush past her at a remarkable speed. She remembered a few notes of a lullaby, an incredible feeling of complete and utter safety, and then awakening outside the door of her parents.

"The nerve of that wretched toad" a voice squawked behind her. Joby spun to face an elaborately dressed creature with the neck and face of a stork dressed in a frilly, periwinkle gown. She was rapidly swishing a large, lacy fan as she were sweltering in the cavern-like coolness of the hall. "thinking he's going to win sympathy by filthying our beloved empress's gown with his grubby paws."

Joby cocked her head.

"Sympathy for what might I ask?"

The bird woman flailed her little hands dramatically.

"What? What you say? Heavans, dearie just name it. He's been a menace to the kingdom since he got the crown if you ask me and he's only gotten worse since that incident with that girl."

Joby frowned. She had never before heard of Jareth being capable of doing anything worth this creature's intense scorn. Well, she did agree that he was rather self-centered and shortsighted in the Williams incident, but surely something like that wouldnt have gotten the attention of all these people, could it? The tiniest inkling of doubt penetrated her mind. Was the Goblin King actually...bad? She would have to investigate further.

"Well it appeared to me that he was simply helping the Empress. She does look as if she's awfully sick."
The woman clicked her beak in disproval. "Oh, and you are his publicist, hmmm? Trying to find any sort of dim light to shine on him hmmmm?"

Joby was about to have enough of her.

"No, but I am a representative of this place and--"

Before she could finish, the lady glared at her and snapped her beak again

"Well then! You have some nerve trying to weasel your little opinions into the public forum! Doing it on his behalf, are you? Well I for one will not stand to have a wicked little Abovegrounder approach me and start preaching such falsities"

And before Joby could remind her that she was the one that approached her, she whipped around craning her neck high into the air and trotted off.

Joby leaned to the side to get a better look into the lounge. She couldn't believe that she had just doubted the king's conduct. She smiled within a group of scowling faces, but the sight stung a little too. It reminded her just how much she missed her own father.
Just then, she felt a small tug at her skirt. She smiled down at the little tutu-wearing girl that had accompanied them. The sound of her voice nearly made her jump out of her skin. She hadn't realized the child was just another goblin in disguise. Her encouraging words were a welcome comfort after the bird woman's tirade. She squatted down to be closer to her level.

"Thank you, Tilly-Whim is it? I suppose a breather could be in order. Would it be any trouble for you to tell Mr. Baltasar where I will be? I seem to be having some trouble locating him."

Spurred by her new assignment, Joby looked around for the Astraen prince. However, she quickly got distracted by everything around her. She passed creatures with plant-like bodies made of bark and leaves. Sprites whizzed by in numerous colors. She swore she saw grinning cat fade out of existence. With her back towards a corner, she slowly walked backwards until she bumped into someone.

"Sorry!"

_________
"...and how much cut and polished emerald does his majesty require?" asked the green velvet clad Ozian Minister of Trade as he peered at Marten through a pair of the famous green-tinted spectacles. "You know if you have your own jewelers, we can ship the raw material at a third of the cost."

Marten hadn't been paying attention. He had been distracted at the sight of the Goblin King gently carrying the weary Childlike Empress. He watched him followed by Glinda stride towards a private room, the ageless little girl's forehead resting against his shoulder. He thought of his own child and wondered if he had carried her in the same manner. The shame bit at his heart. He should have been the one to take her. He should have fought harder to keep her or at least begged the council to banish him to the Above to take care of her. Anything but cower in his dungeon back home. For once, he envied his host for possessing a greater fatherly instinct than he.

"...your majesty?"

Marten blinked, shook his head and snapped his focus back on the minister.

"Sorry, I'm afraid I didn't quite get that last bit."

The minister pursed his lips causing his mustache to bristle impatiently.
"You can get the materials raw for cheaper. Do relay that to your brother, yes? He seems to be the business head after all."

Marten felt his cheeks burn at the thinly-veiled insult, but he brushed it aside and nodded.

"Of course. If you'll excuse me, I need to erm,"

He couldn't think of a good reason for his departure so he simply jerked his thumb somewhere behind him and proceeded to walk in that direction.

He let out a long exhale as he found a quiet corner. He faced the wall as he tried to pull himself back together. He always felt awkward when running business alone. Like his parents, he felt more comfortable in natural places, away from crowds of people. The distraction during his conversation with Oz shook what little resolve he had. He was long out of practice in handling bureaucracy and it made him feel like an utter failure. He looked down at his cuffs. He had been a servant for so long that he had forgotten how to stand on his own. He took a deep breath and took a step back.

As he did, he felt his back bump into another.

"Sorry!"

Another apology chimed in unison, and he turned to face the representative from Above. She glanced up at him, her face momentarily blank until she registered who he was. But with a start she clapped her hands together and pointed at him.

"You!"

_________

Joby shook her head and quickly took a bow.

"I-I mean, your highness. Sorry! I still haven't adjusted to using formalities."

She straightened her shoulders and extended a hand.

"Joby Jones, representative of the Labyrinth" she said smiling through her embarrassment.

________

The smile was what struck Marten first. From the shape of the mouth to the alignment of the teeth, that smile looked exactly like his mother's. He took her hand and shook it.

"Marten, Prince of Astraea." he replied as he shook her hand. "And I'm afraid handshakes are not so common place in our world."

He bowed deeply and regarded her countenance. Her large, dark eyes looked nearly as black as his, but they glittered with a sort of merry warmth that his lacked. The structure of her cheeks and jaw was prominent but softened, she had a tall, noble forehead framed by little clusters of feathery black curls and a small nose that upturned slightly at the end. She apparently dressed to appear more imposing, but her delicate features and kindly expression betrayed her disguise. She certainly didn't remind him of any of the Abovegrounders he had been in cahoots with.

Well that was odd.

He knew she came from there. He swore he could detect just the slightest scents of asphalt, concrete, and car exhaust. She spoke with the accent of the people he had met Above. She lacked the ethereal graces of his kind, and seemed truly amazed by the goings on around her. And yet something seemed strange. He couldn't put a finger on as to what it was, but she didn't entirely feel like an Abovegrounder. Her energy mingled effortlessly into the Underground as if she were a part of it.


Joby continued speaking.

"I was told that you might enjoy stepping outside and touring the gardens."

______

Joby herself was hoping to get a chance to explore the castle's orchard. It was one of the few gardens she had yet to explore and she had been told of its unique varieties of fruit-bearing trees and bushes.

She watched the prince's face soften with relief, and suddenly he did not look as rigid as he did in the procession.

"Some fresh air and quiet would be splendid" he said. He offered her his arm, and they walked out of the ballroom towards the East end of the castle. Though she didn't quite know the way, Joby walked on guided by a sense that she could not name. She felt it over her weeks of gardening, and it seemed to be getting stronger. Somehow, she could feel and recognize the life energies emanating from a large population of plants just around the corner. They walked out of a set of double tinted-glass doors.

She and the prince both exhaled in unison.

The garden expanded out into a large, half-moon sort of shape that was quartered by two crisscrossing pathways. Smaller, flat stone trails cut through the orchards and raised box plots full of berry plants.

"Dude..." Joby breathed.

She marveled at the arrangement of the place. Plants were carefully laid out in organized, natural clusters. Instead of having a lot of one species grouped an isolated, they grew in scattered groups next to other varieties in order to appeal to the insects that pollinated them. The trees flanked the two big pathways and also boasted different kinds of fruit. Joby had long envisioned her ideal garden and she felt as if she had just stepped right into it.

"So you have a fondness for plants?" she heard Marten ask.

__________

The lady had stopped abruptly as soon as they stepped outside. She seemed quite awestruck at the place. She slowly nodded in response to his question.

"Yeah, you could say that. I do landscaping back home"

Landscaping Marten mused. He thought back to his time above trying to recall what the job entailed.

"You shape and design the properties of other people?"

"Yeah, that's right. I feel the most at home when I'm around dirt and greenery."

Marten smiled "My people and I share the same sentiment. He hold the natural world in the highest regard and the kingdom is blessed to be thriving in an eternal Spring."

"My favorite season. Eternal you say?"

"Indeed. The weather is always pleasantly warm, and flowers bloom everywhere and anywhere you can imagine."

"Sounds like paradise"

Marten gave a small chuckle "We may have been called that a time or two. So where do you hail from, Miss Jones?"

"Boston."

At this, Marten laughed "A landscaper in Boston? So that means you get to work in pleasant weather for what? Three months out of the year?"

"Hey now," Joby responded in amused defense "It's actually four thank you very much. Say...."

She turned and eyed him suspiciously. "How do you know of the weather in Boston anyway?"

Dedric surveyed the mask as she spoke. The detail was actually quite fine and carved in detailed patterns in the white porcelain. It surely had to be Empyrean porcelain to be light enough to be worn for an extended period of time.
He wondered about her appearance. He had traveled to the sky kingdom as a very small child while his mother still carried Marten in her womb. He remembered marvelous, gravity-defying architecture and the people in delicate, flowing garb rusting against their sun-kissed skin. The Empyrean people were known for their seraphim-like beauty, and what fuzzy detials he struggled to recall of the former rulers, he figured Elspeth was just as lovley.

"Indeed it was. A long road, but we had several wonderful neighbors that offered us room and board. My people have always had a fondness for taking the scenic route, but I bet travel by luck dragon is far more efficient and thrilling."
Thrilling was a bit of an understatement for Dedric. He had a horrendous fear of heights.

"So I hear this is your first visit to the ground. I'm terribly sorry that you're going to miss some of the more splendid sights the Underground has to offer. The Emerald City is a truly enchanting place. Ah, speaking of which, there goes Queen Ozma's second hand Glinda over there."

He gestured to the woman trailing Jareth.

"Wonderful, wonderful she is," he said admiringly. "She's on the council you know. Fair sense of justice, and an excellent ability to read others. Be sure to speak with some of the council during your stay. They appreciate the ones who take the initiative to do so."
It felt good to relay a little advice to a new ruler.

"I've been on a mission to develop deeper ties with the kingdoms of the Underground. I have some big plans that I'm afraid my predecessors never shared a similar interest in. So, to pull Astraea out of its isolation, I'm seeking out possible import markets. I'm sure the ladies back home would happily empty their purses for your excellent porcelain. Spring blooms eternal in Astraea and as a result we have the biggest variety of plants and flowers in the Undergound, some of which have some remarkable properties.
He fished a small glass vial from his vest pocket and a small bottle with a dropper. The held the vial up so the Empyean could see the tiny seed inside.

"Watch this."

He uncorked the lid, unscrewed the dropper, and very carefully squeezed a few drops of water from the vial. The seed broke open and a tiny stalk of green lazily snaked out. At the top, a little bud began to form and blush into a bright crimson. The petals slowly yawned open into a delicate blossom. Dedric smiled and corked the lid.

"As long as there is Astraen water inside, it will never die. For you, my lady."
He handed her the tiny gift.

"If you have any interest in discussing the potential for trade between our two kingdoms perhaps we can do so over a dance this evening?"

Marten froze.

Damn he thought and hung his head. He had the opportunity to share company with the one person who knew nothing of his former crimes and he had nearly blown it.

"I, erm, spent a short time there some years ago."

Unfortunately, he had Miss Jones' full attention now.

"What made you want to go there of all places?" she asked

"Well, that's just where the doorway opened."

"By what you've told me of your world, I don't know why you'd ever want to leave."

_______

She saw Marten's face briefly shift expression. His lips tightened and curled down, his dark eyes dimmed with some unknown grief, and for just a moment he looked much older.

"Guess you could say I needed a vacation."

Joby pretended to be distracted by an apple hanging from a low branch, and allowed him to walk a few paces ahead. He seemed to be in need of a private moment with his thoughts.

"And what did you think of Boston?" she asked after he made a little space in between them.

"Loud."

Joby laughed and cupped the half-ripened apple in her palm, carefully rotating it to examine the unripened green. Before her eyes, the skin darkened and turned red. She gasped and whipped her hand away.

What the heck is happening?!?

Marten turned back looking concerned.

"Are you alright?"

"Uh, spider" Joby said quickly and pointed at the tree. She wasn't even afraid of spiders.

"So, tell me more about Astraea."
_________

Marten proceeded to tell Joby of Astraea's significance within the Underground. She seemed somewhat distracted throughout most of the conversation. He occasionally glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and noticed that she spent a large portion of their walk rubbing the palms and fingers of her hands and looking down at them with an odd, furrowed expression. However, he did spark her interest at the mention of unicorns.

"They can only live there?" she asked

"Yes. It is one of the last pure places in our world, and even it has been tainted by Darkness"
_________

The prince became quiet. His head hung a little, his long black hair shielding his face. Joby looked at him from time to time. There was a slight slouch to his posture as if his shoulders carried the burden of some invisible weight. His dark eyes were deep set into his elongated face. He had a tall forehead and high, sharp cheekbones that made his pallid skin appear sunken.

"Is that why you left for a while?"

"Well,"

Marten paused, lips still parted in mid-thought.
"Yes, I suppose you could say that."

His face looked pained and he bit his lip in a similar way that she did whenever she chose to refrain from speaking further.

"I'm sorry. It's rude of me to pry like that."

"No, it's quite alright. So, tell me more about yourself, Miss Jones"

"There isn't much to say really. I'm horrendously boring."

"I have trouble beliving that. The Underground tends to filter out the boring outsiders"

Joby shrugged. "There's isn't much to tell. I go to work, play in the dirt, go home, clean up, read a little, write a little, cook a meal, go to bed, and wake to do the same again."

It seemed strange. Joby lived by that pattern for well over five years, but it felt like she had been in a dream when she thought about it. It was as if life in the Underground began to feel more like reality to her.
___________
Marten didn't know why, but he wanted to know something more about the girl. Although much older, she seemed to strongly favor his own daughter.

"Would it be rude to ask your age? Time functions a little differently here and lifespans tend to stretch."

"Twenty-five, at least I think I am. I hope my birthday hasn't passed back home."

Twenty-five. thought Marten. How many years have passed since he had been there? Has it been so long?

He looked to his companion with fresher eyes. Was his own precious girl so grown already? He dismissed the thought. The notion brought fresh pain to an old wound.

"Lets see if I can figure this out still...according to your world I am....seventy-five years old I believe."

"Old enough to be my grandfather."

Marten chuckled.

"I was a young man of fifty when I was in your world. Spent my visit running around as a um, a "punk" " I believe was the proper term.

Joby laughed. "I have to say that I struggle to picture you wearing tattered jeans and patchy jackets. You know, my mom thought herself to be a punk as well. Oh man, she was OBSESSED with the Sex Pistols, you heard of them while you were there?"

Marten's throat felt abnormally dry all of a sudden. For some reason he feared whatever words were to follow. He nodded as Joby carried on.

"Yeah, well she and all her stupid punk friends had nicknames, and she called herself Connie Rotten."
_____
The name stopped Marten in his tracks. He stared dead ahead at the stained glass doors. All was blank in his mind except the dull thumping of blood coursing madly through his skull. He couldn't turn back to look at her, he dared not. Surely he misheard. Surely his former lover was one of an untold many Connie Rottens.

He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself.

"Miss Jones, wh-who suggested that you escort me on this stroll?"

"Jareth, I think."
_________
"....Marten?"

The man had been standing as if frozen for a few moments. She stood behind, curiously watching as he occasionally shook his head.

"You alright?"

It seemed to take him a moment to realize that she had asked him a question.

"Huh? Oh, yes. Q-quite, Miss Jones, but I think I need to excuse myself right now. I-I, um, seemed to have forgotten to um,"
He never told her what. He just pointed to the doors and began to briskly walk back inside.

Elspeth smirked behind her mask. The striking prince was charming. And clearly ambitious. It didn't bother her, however; she understood the purpose of presentation and for at least declaring an agenda up front, ahead of time.

"Flowers," she mused aloud as she took the small vial, inspecting it thoughtfully, "flowers are such an intriguing concept. We have no dirt in The Empyrean, for anything to grow. We prioritize trade in the area of food and nourishment." She batted her eyelashes. "Consider a few ideas before our discussion. Impress me," she challenged in a passive tone, a somewhat giddy smile forming on her obscured face. How she loved it. "But the Keeper must be involved in our discussion," she emphasized, indicating the tall armored man nearby. "I don't do anything without consulting with my most trusted advisor."

Sayer raised a hand silently in acknowledgment, specifically so that Dedric could see.

Dedric grinned. He hadn't accounted for the Empyrean in any of his plans for commerce or alliance-building, but here stood a promising young ruler who took him by surprise. She wasn't going to simply sway to small charms and flattery. No, she had a level head, a proper sense to weigh the possibilities. He peered through the mask as if surveying her face. He had no doubt with or without it, the lady's expression was as placid as a skilled gambler.

"You're in luck, Lady Empyrean" he said as he reached into his vest and removed a small stack of cards. "I always come prepared." He handed one each to her and Sayer.

"There, you will see a list of our ten biggest exports. We have an immense variety of fruits, truffles, and the sweetest honey in the Underground. In recent years, our perfume industry has soared. Astraea is practically covered in flowers, and our craftsmen have created wonderful elixirs. I hope business will eventually rival the Forgotten Desert's, but we're still some ways from that. Speaking of which..."

He noticed the Keeper's frequent glances in Queen Zade's direction.

"the queen of the Forgotten Desert is just over there in white. It's rare to catch her unoccupied. She's Mab's right hand and one of the most influential members of the council. Why don't you have your Keeper escort you to her and introduce yourself? You'll get a good footing in the public forum if you acquaint yourself with the council early. They respect those who take the initiative to connect with their neighbors. Besides, I think your advisory would appreciate the change of scenery."

He spotted a dwarven noble that he had told Marten to speak with about steel shipments. He wasn't holding the rolled scroll of a contract which meant that his brother had not performed the task. His eyes darted around as he realized that Marten was not to be seen.

"Discuss the list with your associate. I'll have a servant deliver a few bottles of our fragrances. The bluebell is a favorite among the locals. I'm afraid I have some business to attend to. Until the eve, my lady."

He bowed gracefully and flashed her a smile.

"Lord Keeper."

He took another, more stoic and rigid bow, and turned to leave.

"William, tell me a story..." A paler toddle no older than four, implored the older boy she was cuddled against under a small apple tree in some foreign countryside.

"Alright, what kind of story?" The flaxen haired boy asked the girl-child he was holding.

"A truw story, William. Tell me one that's truw." The girl insisted in a longing manner.

The boy thought for a moment. "Someday Philly I'm going to marry a real life angel."

At this response the girl child considered a moment. "But, William. What...What does an angel look like? Does one have wings?"

"Not really but they are so beautiful that when people look upon them they think they see wings of light because the angels glow brightly with their goodness. Father says that's why the angel's wear masks. Even the babies when we go to see them. They try to shield us from their light so we arent hurt when we look upon their faces." The boy explained.

The girl-child was quiet a moment and then began to giggle as a new thought occurred to her. "You wont ever be able to seeee her."

"Sure I will." The boy countered.

"How?" The toddler inquired.

"Because someday I'll prove I have goodness two and when I do the angel will stop glowing just long enough for me to see her. I'll only need to see her once, Philly and then I'll never have to look again because she'll be in here." The boy pressed his fingers to his forehead. "And here in my heart. I'll see her and remember her always so any time after all I'll need to do is shut my eyes and she'll be there. Forever."

"But William...Arent you good now?" The girl child asked.

"Mother says so, but father says I'll have to prove I'm good anyway for it to be true. I will prove it, Philly. To father and to everyone. Someday." The boy insisted.

"I know your good, William. I want to be good too but not to marry an angel." The little girl said.

"Why do you want to be good, Philly?" The boy asked her.

"So that I can ALWAY stay with you." She answered.

Jareth had slipped into repose as he held the child-like empress and they dreamed together travel forwards, back, and to places unknown together. Sometimes he forgot how he longed to sleep without interruption or subconscious chatter. Jareth never really slept when in repose he simply slipped into memory and message. His dreams were more like day dreams as he floated along only particularly unaware. Jareth felt a hand squeeze his shoulder and the vague realization of the weight of the child-like empress's limp form being taken from his arms, no-doubt by Glinda who would see her safely away to her secret quarters. For a moment Jareth didn't want to come out of his repose. He wanted to live out what he was experiencing for as long as possible before the feelings of the period were lost to him, but alas, he had to wake and come back to his senses. He could afford no less.

"Steady now." A man with a thick Hungarian accent said so that he could prevent Jareth from startling.

"Huh, Baltus. Go on. I know its you and I am perfectly aware of this nightmare I'm sitting in, like a goose being marinated in butter to be moved to the spit." Jareth muttered quietly, not having much interest or energy to say more.

"Just looking out for you my old friend. I'm going to go and find your lovely human friend I promised to escort. You should retire." He encouraged him.

"I want to but I cant. I've got blows coming and I'd rather let a few land now rather than save them up for a full out pummeling later." Jareth muttered. "but go I think you'll find our friend in the fruit garden I might as well start taking audiences. I wont be able to do much now but at least I can start to hear our inmates demands. Send Meriel to me when you can. I don't want to deal with all of this alone and anything I negotiate will have to go through her anyway in terms of import and exportation."

The man in the gray robes nodded."Very well. Be strong,"

Jareth watched Baltus and Glinda both turn and leave the room leaving Jareth as the only one in the lounge.

Once they were gone Jareth sighed. "I am so tired of all of this, yes Mab. Even I can admit when I've overstayed my welcome."

Marten's mind was reeling. He needed a shadow to duck into, a place where he could take a moment to recollect his thoughts. Frantically, he searched the hall until he finally found an open doorway. The room was a small lounge where goblin servants were serving wine. The only occupants were a young couple flirting in a corner, some travel-weary sprites, and a couple of elder women sampling the reds. He leaned against a wall and started to rub his neck. He thought of his life in the Above, before his brother ripped him from it.

There were three of them at the time: Connie Rotten, Joe B. Damned, and he was Marty Stray, an awkward third wheel dragged along by a spunky runaway and her dope peddling companion. The girl was like a flame, and he a naive moth forever following the toss of her golden curls. She was all that was wild and bold and daring: all the things he could never be. She ran towards any disaster she could dive into, and she pulled him along. Joe was a good decade older, and knew the consequences of fast living. But he took their currency all the same and did nothing else to keep their vices in check. Besides, his own love of drink kept him from riding too high a horse. They made an inspirable trio of lost souls sharing the dive into oblivion. Perhaps they spent most of the time out of their heads, but they had fun. With years and regret distancing himself from the man he used to be, Marten understood that the relationship was more codependent than genuine. Still, it was the first time since the loss of his mother that he truly felt understood. He had a life and friends that were ripped away from him in the middle of the night. Even after the foot soldiers carted him away back through the portal, after he was locked away, after he learned of the near disasters that occurred through that open portal, Marten never felt the weight of his actions until he heard of his daughter, the daughter who quite possibly stood in the garden outside.

Impossible. The word rang through Marten's mind like a mantra.

He left the parlor and headed back into the ballroom, eyes frantically seeking the one person who could clear matters up.
Jareth. Why was he doing this?

He watched a long haired gentleman rouse the Goblin King from his slumber. Marten hesitated. He had no wish to catch Jareth at a bad time, but it was vital for him to know what was going on. He glanced around nervously until no one appeared to be close to earshot. No one else occupied the room, but his eyes still darted around as if he was expecting someone to leap out of the wall.

"Jareth" he whispered in hoarse urgency. "What in the name of all that is good and right are you thinking? I-If the council knew that you br-" He seemed at a loss for words. "Gods, if Dedric knew, he'd string you up on the battlements himself! It's not that I'm not, well, I'm sure you can imagine the shock she gave me. But why, Jareth? Here? Now?!? He struggled to be coherent. "For one, I can't fathom how it could possibly help you, and for another..." his excitement sputtered out into weariness "...why didn't you tell me?"
___________

Joby didn't ponder too much on Marten's swift departure. She was distracted with her own thoughts. She walked slowly through the garden, rubbing her hands together and staring down at them.

This is insane. Am I really making things grow?

She walked by a green-skinned fruit that looked similar to a peach. She laid her palm against it and stared. Nothing happened. She tried focusing. Not the slightest change. She thought about the other occurrences, and her time spent nurturing the plants of the labyrinth. She thought about her state of mind before each incident and how she had either been cheerful or admiring. She thought about how pretty the fruit would be when ripened and about how fondly she loved the whole orchard.

The green faded and turned into a soft shade of orange in a matter of seconds.

Joby stared at the fruit, her mind seized by a peculiar thought. Was there real magic in her? Some humans acquire it in the Underground, don't they? She looked up at the tree and at its unripened yields. She focused on feelings of hope, on happy promises that she would help ensure the safety of it and all the other fruit trees in the labyrinth. Shades of orange spread up, and the fruits quickly grew plump and heavy. She made a little delighted squeal, clasping her hands together. Her heart was thumping madly and she suddenly felt somewhat dizzy. She leaned against the tree's trunk, picked a fruit, and took a bite, knowing she would be safe to do so.

Jareth was in the middle of cradling his head in his hands and collecting himself before he had to face people again when Marten decided to appear full of questions.

"Hello, Marten. So nice of you to drop in." Jareth muttered once the other man finally tried to take a breath. "I must say, I've had a fair amount of accusations thrown at me in the last several days you you really are going to have to be more specific. If you can't tell I don't have the foggiest idea of what in hell your talking about. So with that said, do clarify so that I can decide if I want to bother defending myself. What exactly have I done to you? Hm?"

Jareth straightened somewhat and crossed his legs, folding his hands into his lap.

Marten blinked. He studied Jareth's face wearing a bemused expression. The man looked honestly as perplexed as he did. His face fell, he turned his gaze to the floor feeling rather embarrassed. Of course it wasn't her.

"My apologies, sire. I was touring the fruit garden with your representative, and she reminded me of..." he shook his head and cleared his throat. A small part of him felt disappointed that the girl wasn't his. She possessed a remarkable warmth he thought only emanated from his kind. Perhaps she was just brighter spirited than the Abovegrounders he knew.

"Anyway, it was a ridiculous notion to even come up with."

He rubbed the back of his neck as he searched for his next words. Jareth was on the defensive, and Marten had no intentions of causing him trouble.

"With my brother and all, I never got the opportunity to thank you for saving my Lilian. I know my voice holds little sway among the underground, but I am willing to stand in your defense should the need arise."

He hovered a little, recovering slowly from his former shock.

"Has it been so long already, Jareth? I look at your young friend and I struggle to believe that my little girl could be that grown."

He felt suddenly heavy. He had tried to forget the fleeting years, forget the moments he never saw and never would see. He hoped his own daughter wore a face like Miss Jones, a twinkling, jovial expression that surely knew pain.

Lilian.

The corner of Jareth's dilated eye twitched.

"Its hard to remember, Marten; but now that I think on it I do believe you and your girl were the last time I helped one of our own. You may have been stupid to do what you did, but you weren't wrong for it. I hope that despite your many years in exile that you realize that in the now. As for you and I, we had a bargain. Nothing more nothing less. I'm sorry I couldn't do more but I did do the best I could for her and you under the circumstances. Things might have gone differently if you hadn't broken our terms. But I must admit I understand why you did it. Like all good fathers you had to see for yourself that your girl was safe. As for Miss Jones I have no idea who she is or how she managed to magic herself here. I have some notions I'm investigating but her visit was entirely unexpected. A certain meddling Good-neighbor is responsible for her presence."

Jareth paused as if he was thinking about something.

"And you're right. Isn't it remarkable that she's exactly the same age your beloved daughter is and that she has that sort of other worldy charm that is so common among your people?" Jareth clicked his tongue. "My my that really is a most fascinating coincidence. But as you said she couldn't possibly be anyone you know. That would be...Far too convenient."

A small amused smile crept onto the edges of Jareth's thin mouth.

It was as if a cascade of ice plunged into Marten's stomach. The pain of his guilt never seemed to ease when it struck him.

Mim. Even the name left a sour taste in his mouth.

She had been instrumental in the acquisition of his daughter. She was the one who opened the portal to the Aboveground. He remembered how his actions those seventeen years ago had earned him the cuffs that bound his wrists. He took Mim's offer to provide the magic required to save Lilian.

And what a marvelous rescue it was.

But not until he had to bear witness to his poor child's suffering first hand. He would never forget the horrible moment when he first saw his daughter in person. Hidden from sight outside of Connie's kitchen window, he grasped the trunk of a tree to keep from running inside and snatching Lilian away right there. He watched Connie rage and scream at their child with a kind of cruelty he never before saw. She changed in his absence, changed into something far darker. Was this his fault as well? The woman he had known had moments of unkindness, but he would have never thought her capable of harming an innocent child. He gritted his teeth as he saw the cigarette meet flesh, and he cried just as helplessly as Lilian. Finally, his chance came. The girl secluded herself in her pitiful bedroom and cried herself to sleep.

He remembered standing at her side, taking in every detail of her sleeping face and knowing time was short. Marten Gwyndion knew fear; he had stood with his soul laid bare before the all-knowing Mab. But he had never before been so terrified than when he reached over and roused his daughter from her slumber.

He never expected the reaction.

After a few drowsy questions, she seemed to realize what was going on. She leapt from the covers and ran to her closet dragging out a little purple backpack.

"I knew you'd come for me someday!" Lilian exclaimed before dropping the bag by his feet and wrapping her little arms around him. He placed a trembling hand on top of her head and smoothed her long, jet black curls. She fished an old Polaroid photograph and held it out to him excitedly. He could clearly tell it was a picture of himself, but he had blocked his face with one of his hands. Lilian zipped around her tiny bedroom, collecting clothes and asking dozens of questions about magic, castles, dragons, and faeries.

Flabbergasted, Marten could only mutter a few "you'll see when we get theres." He watched his child with wide, curious eyes. How could she possibly have any inkling of her true identity? Not even Connie knew the truth, but here was the child he never met before going on about how she thought she was a changeling. He didn't know what else to do except respond with some honesty. Yes, he was her father. Yes, he was from a magical realm.

"I can't wait to see it, daddy!" the little girl sang.

And with that, the icy cold blade of guilt plunged into his gut again. The child seemed to have made a complete recovery from the previous turmoil, her happiness blooming afresh with the promise of a true home.

"Mommy said you ran away forever. She said you were never, ever coming back, but I knew you'd come and find me one day."
He smiled weakly and slung her backpack over his shoulder. He picked her up and she clung to his neck.
"Bye, Mommy!" she yelled "I still love you, but I'm going home with daddy now!" Marten tried to shush her "Oh, it's okay" she chirped "once Mommy goes to sleep nothing wakes her up and she sleeps allllll day!"

He bundled up in her cloak, and with the use of a little borrowed magic (for he had none of his own), they passed from the house. They moved quickly through the small town and into the adjacent forest. All the while, Lilian bombarded him with questions.

"Do you live in a castle?"

"A small one by my world's standards, but yes."

"Why did it take you so long to find me?"

"I needed to use magic, and magic is difficult to come by for someone like me."
"Are you a king?"

Marten chuckled "No, but my brother will be soon. I'm a prince..erm, sort of."

"I have an uncle and he's going to be a king! Do I have more family? Are they excited to meet me? I'm excited to meet them! I'm going to have a real family! I'm going to live in a castle with a real bed!"

Marten held his little one close to him. For a moment, he was tempted to take her home. He would have quite a spat with Dedric, but surely he would see reason. They were their mother's sons after all; they were well taught in compassion and love.
But he knew better. Facing Dedric would end badly for his daughter. He would never allow her to stay. He would go into hiding, find a safe place to raise her. He knew nothing about caring for a child, but surely anything would beat a life with Connie. He was a fugitive once again, but this time, he would know how to hide.

He tried to focus, looking around for where the veil weakened between Under and Above. He heard the soft tinkling of flowing water. In the distance loomed a tall, hooded figure standing beside an ancient gondola illuminated at the front by the glowing of a lantern.

"I'm scared, daddy."

"Nothing to fear, love. This is just the Ferryman. He's going to take us to our world."

From a small satchel, he retrieved two silver coins and placed them under his tongue.

The strange Ferryman looked ask if he were nothing more than a cloak floating on its own. The hood gave away no signs of an actual face, but a deep voice came from beneath it.

"Open your mouth."

Lilian made a small squeak and buried her face into his shoulder. Marten obeyed. He felt the coins slide over his teeth, but felt no fingers take them. The Ferryman stepped aside and allowed them to board.

"Where you wish to travel."

"Someplace safe where my brother will never find us."

"I thought we were going home" said Lilian beginning to look panicked. "I want to go home. I want to be where I belong."

He had hoped he wouldn't have to use it, but it seemed the time had come.

"Daddy, where are we going?"

He took a tiny blue drawstring pouch.

"Daddy, I'm afraid" she said as they started to proceed through the black maze of stagnant streams. Everywhere, the air smelled of decay.

"Shhh, it's alright, Lilian. I'm right here" said Marten as he took some powder from the pouch and sprinkled it over her.
"My name's not Lilian! It's-"

But before she could finish, her head dropped. She was sound asleep.

Marten sighed and retrieved a small map.

Dedric's forces were marked in gold. They were leaving the Astrean forests already. The false trail had failed and they were working their way towards the Black River. Damn. The river was nearly impossible to navigate, but Marten now suspected that Dedric had a means of tracking him.

"Please Ferryman, can we keep my brother off my trail? I fear what will happen to my daughter if he find her."
"Yes. The queen shall be protected, but are you willing to pay the toll, Exiled Prince?"
"I will give you anything I have" pleaded Marten.

"No. Not me." the Ferryman replied and then said no more.

Marten glanced at Jareth. His amused expression gave away no knowledge of the past. How could it? It never ceased to amaze Marten that he had any soul left for his shame to eat away at. He knew Lilian had been happy here. Why did as have to destroy that as well. His meddling caused far more disasters than any goodneighbor like Mim could imagine.

"Far too convenient indeed" he muttered darkly.

He heard the approach of familiar footsteps and he quickly straightened his posture. He knew before he heard Dedric's voice that he was in trouble again.

"Ah, Derdric. Please, come right in. I don't think you and I have informally met. Though I'm sure our...reputations, precede us." Jareth stood and magicked himself up a new black tailed gentleman's jacket that glittered at the breast.

Jareth swooshed it around himself in a magician like manner and in a blink he was wearing it. Reaching into a side pocket Jareth pulled out a pair of white kit gloves and elegantly pulled them on, tucking the edges in to his sleeve.

His patience for decorum was about spent and Jareth didn't think he could stomach watching Dedric boss his brother about as if the man had no sense of his own. Jareth could tell that Dedric disliked him profoundly and that it was purely a matter of personal prejudice rather than anything politically motivated, though he was sure that Dedric used his brother's involvement with the Goblin King as a justification whenever it was convenient. And anyway Dedric should have counted his blessing since had things turned out differently he might not be king and Marten's daughter Lilian would have had rights to the throne. Women were always preferred rulers in Astraea. Their kingdom of life worked best as a matriarchy.

Now standing Jareth stepped closer to Marten, calping the man on the shoulder and leaning forward slightly so that Derdric, when he approached would have to keep a respectful distance from his brother and from Jareth.

"Your brother and I were just negotiating some business. Was their something else you personally wanted? Hm?" Jareth had that amused but dominating smile on his face that warned Dedric to be on his guard just then.

Marten wanted to break free of Jareth's hand. He felt pathetic and entirely unworthy of any more of his help. If only you knew he thought miserably. He doubted the Goblin King would show the same amount of kindness if he knew Marten was responsible for the removal of two years worth of his memories.

_____

Dedric had spotted Marten from across the room. He knew his brother would sieze the first chance he had to speak to the Goblin King. He strode briskly towards the pair. The slightest trace of a smile played upon his lips as Jareth conjured his new clothes, once again armoring himself in black. The man was back on the defensive. Good. Even over a thousand years, the man couldn't quite entirely mask his apprehension. If there was one thing Dedric knew, it was people. He could read body language and facial expressions as well as a skilled investigator.

"There you are, Marten." He noted Jareth's hand on his shoulder. His lips drew thin. He was not entirely sure of the exact nature of Marten's former dealings with the Goblin King, but he had a solid theory. For two years, he was unable to peek into his niece's world. He was convinced it was because she had been in the Underground. One night, some years after the big trial, Marten fled Astraea once again. Luckily, Dedric had a means of tracking him as long as he wasn't Above. He knew Marten left to retrieve Lilian. He was certain he had her in tow whenever he perused him through the Black River. However, once he caught his brother at last, the child was nowhere to be seen; the boat only carried the eerie Boatman and a particularly crestfallen looking Marten. After that, it was no hassle at all to bring him back home. He didn't like seeing Marten getting so cozy, and he certainly didn't like being addressed as if he were butting in to something more important. But he was a prince and he excelled in maintaining airs. He conjured a friendly smile.

"My apologies if I am cutting that business short, your majesty." He turned to Marten
I just saw our Mr. Thistlegem who runs those starstone mines in the North. I recall asking you to discuss the potential for a partnership, and I believe I entrusted you with that scroll."

Marten rolled his eyes and retrieved the scroll from his vest. "Right here, brother."

"Excellent, well he's just over there, and completely unoccupied for now. The demand for starstone is increasing, and our own castle's astronomer's are looking to use it in some new telescopes. The kingdom would benefit greatly with that partnership."
_____
Marten wasn't blind to was Dedric was actually saying. Even though he spoke kindly, he shot Marten a look that said I wanted that partnership taken care of an hour ago, now MOVE.

He gave Jareth a weak, apologetic smile.

"If you'll excuse me."
_____

Once Marten was gone, Dedric muted some of his warmth and took on a more formal personality. He took a bold stride forward before taking a bow.

"I'm glad to finally meet you in person. I Marten has mentioned you several times."

He took a place next to Jareth and took a moment to survey the party.

"You know, I tried to talk Mab into hosting the festivities in Astraea this year, but she seemed quite adamant to bring the Goblin City into the spotlight this year."

There was no mistaking it now that he was here in person. Jareth was being scrutinized.

"You must feel...quite honored," he said, humor coloring his voice.

"I should think Mab's presence here would ring a bell for you, Prince. After all, your kingdom is no stranger to unwanted visitors of...High regard. Tell me if its true, do all of your people hold a seed of Darkness in your hearts? Or is that just a convenient folktale? Their are so many rumors about people that float about our lands. I'm sure you're familiar with plenty of mine and I do assure you that, like the seed of Darkness supposedly embedded in your heart, the rumors about me are more than justified. In any case, I do feel honored. And do you know why?" Jareth smiled in a truly knowing manner that was utterly terrifying just then as he stood to his full height and leaned forward.

It was enough for anyone to take a step backwards.

"I know Mab is here to pass judgement over me for whether or not I adequately have been playing my part in her greater design. Whatever she decides is not particularly conserning to me but it may be to others after the fact. Whatever happens you'd do well to remember, my dear prince, that while you maybe likened to a King among your people, I am a servant among mine and my people extend a great deal farther than the boundaries of this maze. If Mab succeeds in her plotting it will not be I who will ultimately have to answer for it." Jareth was trying to warn Derdric of something he perhaps didn't realize or fully understand was about to happen.

"You know, Astraea isn't exactly a legendary kingdom, it is simply a benefactor of legendary happenings. You should glance back into your genealogies sometime. It just might garner something interesting."