Pairing: Slash warning.
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Jareth paced the corridors of his Castle for days, trying to find out what exactly it was that itched under his skin like a thousand ants. A thought, an emotion tickled at his mind, flitting elusively away when he blundered after it. Some part of him felt raw and rubbed... It was all beginning to annoy him. He had had to put his Kingdom back to rights, to see to his Labyrinth, to take care of those annoying trio of defectors, and he had had to do it all while repressing the urge to shout from all the pent-up frustrations.
"Sire, watch out!" piped up behind him just as he trod on something that let out a howl of pain and proceeded to hop around on one foot. He glared at the goblin that dared to get in his way and swept on, too involved in his thoughts to bother with the infernal nuisance. Until a thought struck him. "You there," he yelled, spinning on his heel.
The goblin stopped hopping and limped to his King with a look of abject submission on his squashed face. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
Jareth thought some more about it and then nodded decisively. "Have Arienne brought to me. Tell him I require a healer immediately."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Cogwheel gulped, bowing low and then turning to scamper down the corridor.
Jareth resumed his pacing through the castle, a black-gloved finger tapping against his pursed lips. He didn't think anyone had worked any magic on him. But if not that, then what was it? It was six months since Sarah Williams had beaten him at his own game... was he pining for his lost winning streak? Or was he in need of revenge? Oh Gods, he surely wasn't missing the brat, was he? He was not an emotional person!
Far from emotional, really. But then he was beginning to think that someone was trying to drive him mad. Not that he was in danger of losing his mind. Some considered he had already lost most of that, but no. He was still sane. If it was someone trying to drive him mad then they were not doing a good job of it. Which still begged the question of who it was and why they would decide to do it. Jareth usually wasn't cursed for no reason at all.
Perhaps it was not a curse. In which case he had no idea what was going on. He might be ill. The Underground was full of strange illnesses that no one but the healers understood. He stopped for a moment as nausea threatened again, tugging physically at his stomach as if to pull it from his body. The taste at the back of his throat was vile and he swallowed distastefully. Flight- what he needed was some uninterrupted time to think things through. Yes. He would go up to the parapets of his Castle and he would take bird form and he would fly for a time. He changed directions with a purposeful stride.
"Your Majesty?"
He stopped short from ascending the stairs to the turret and turned, his senses narrowing from the roaring call of the wind outside to the old goblin standing before him, intelligent eyes twinkling at him. "Arienne, I require your aid," he said, plunging in without preamble, "There's something wrong with me but I don't know what."
Arienne kept a smile from his face. He'd watched this Jareth grow from a babe to a man; he knew the Goblin King inside and out. He was never bothered by the arrogant dismissal. "Of course, Sire. Is this a physical malady?" Jareth shook his head impatiently. "Is there is a room in which I can examine you?"
Jareth nodded and bade him follow to a room in the tower. He didn't like that word- 'examine'. It meant too much invasion into his privacy.
"Your right hand, Your Majesty," Arienne said softly, holding out his hand.
Jareth sighed and gave it to him, closing his eyes as Arienne let his magic out to trace contours. It tickled. That and it made his mind uncomfortably full of thoughts and memories, half-formed and too vivid- Jareth's parents, Sarah dancing in his arms, the last War, Jareth playing with Toby, lovers from the past, the Labyrinth, the goblins he laughed with, the coat he'd worn for his Coronation and...
Arienne let his hand drop with a barely muffled exclamation of surprise.
Jareth opened his mismatched eyes and raised an enquiring eyebrow. "What's wrong?" he asked dubiously.
Arienne searched those eyes. "Sire, don't you know you are bonded?"
The Goblin King blinked, his jaw dropped. "Bonded?" he echoed blankly. Oh, he knew what bonds were. He'd studied them avidly for years, watched to see what they could do to people. But always to others, damn it! He'd waited for the right time for so long, had been so rigidly careful and select about relationships, looking for that one absolutely empathetic spark…. And now! So soon! Well, not soon, because he was certainly old enough, but so sudden. He hadn't even thought, or planned. He couldn't have gone and gotten himself bonded to anyone that he knew of. They weren't right! They weren't worth it! It could not, in short, be possible. He drew himself up to his full height, eyes flashing fire. "That's impossible!"
"I'm very much afraid that it is not," Arienne corrected, taking Jareth's hand back and drawing the thin lines of light out into the open where the Goblin King could see them. "Sire, such magicks are not to be trifled with. You are suffering from withdrawal. Do you get nausea?"
"Yes."
"Headaches? Mood swings? Inexplicable thoughts or emotions that do not really correspond to your state of mind?"
"Yes."
"Insomnia interspersed with frequent surreal dreams that involve one particular person?"
Jareth looked his distaste but sighed. "Yes."
"A sudden and unexpected craving for company that is never quite satisfied?"
"Yes."
"Well, that sounds reasonably like the symptoms for missing your bonded lover."
Jareth shook his head and began to pace around the small, round room, his brow furrowed and his equilibrium shattered. "But that's not possible. None of this is! It's adverse magic; it has to be. I'm merely suffering from- from delusion or boredom. I do not make the mistake of bonding with any of my partners!"
"I, ah, have not probed for an actual name, Sire, but if you are in doubt, the dreams should have revealed the person in question. You need only claim her and such irritation will disappear."
"I have not bonded with anyone, Arienne."
The half-goblin sighed. When would people realize that bonds were really quite easy to forge? All one needed was an unguarded emotional moment of shared need and shared empathy and the deed was done. And that Jareth had had plenty of opportunity for, ahem, unguarded emotional moments and need, was a fact the entire Kingdom knew. It was something they overlooked in the behaviour of their King. And currently the King had never looked as confused as he stared helplessly out the window. Arienne gave a discreet cough; drawing Jareth's attentions back to him. "Sire, forgive me for my plain speaking in advance and remember that I do so only because of my closeness to you and your family."
Jareth nodded impatiently and turned, desperate for anything that might get him out of such a predicament. His voluptuous Farrah might be pretty but he'd go insane if he had to live with her shrieking and possessive rages for the rest of his life. "Of course, of course! You've helped me with delicate matters before. I think you can speak plainly in my presence."
Arienne repressed a shudder at that telling reminder, recalling the embarrassing aspects of that incident when Jareth had been an awkward child. But not all the memories were bad. There was that talk when Jareth had been older- eighteen, was it not? He still got the urge to laugh when he thought of that day. "Jareth, you cannot possibly be saying that you do not know who it is you've bonded yourself to?"
Jareth raised an eyebrow. "I can't," he admitted honestly.
"What about that mistress of yours- Alice? I heard the rumours, Jareth; even in my part of the Kingdom."
Jareth snorted and shook his head. "I'm afraid Alice went years ago, Arienne. And I have only been getting this confusion for six months now. It can't be her. And it certainly isn't her successor. And very definitely not Farrah!"
Arienne shook his head. He wracked his brains to think of who it could be. Well, bonds were tricky like that. Easy to forge, but complex to understand. It was a puzzle that with all his study, Jareth was taken so unawares. Most people felt it form instantly. "Perhaps there is a woman who you greatly admire? Sex is not always a necessary catalyst for bonding."
Jareth stopped dead, his eyes widening as his hand white-knuckled the stone window ledge. "By all that's pure," he breathed, "No! No bloody fears! I am not bonded to her! I did not bond to her! I would not have done so under any circumstance! Not by any stretch of the imagination! No. It can't be true."
Arienne tried to think of the one person who fit his description and could cause such a reaction in the normally controlled King. There was just one person- "You would be thinking of Sarah Williams, would you not? She certainly fits the requirements, Jareth."
"No," Jareth shouted, looking mutinously at his Healer from under furious brows.
Arienne did the only calm thing he could think of- he gripped Jareth's right hand in his palm, patting it soothingly as he murmured the necessary distracting words to make the agitated Goblin King allow him to insert probes to get at the truth. True to form, the truth was a little more twisted than even he'd considered. He debated telling Jareth.
"Arienne, if you have quite finished finding out the answers, I would appreciate being apprised of them." Cold, deadly voice and of course, Jareth was a dangerous man. Arienne never fooled himself into forgetting that.
"It is not Sarah Williams," he said bluntly, watching in some amusement as Jareth relaxed, "Neither is it your current light o' love. It is, however, an interesting connection all things considered. In fact, Jareth, you really must let me question you on how you developed such a bond. It hasn't been seen in the Noble class of this Kingdom for centuries. And never in such circumstances that I know of!"
Jareth blinked in confusion. He tried to think of the figure in his dreams. But all he saw was a shadowy form, disappearing before he could recognize the face. Long golden hair and he remembered a pair of blue eyes. The mouth was wide and soft, he knew that. But apart from a sense of individual features, he had no idea what his bonded lover looked like.
Arienne cleared his throat and explained the situation.
A loud cry of denial echoed through the castle, shattering delicate silence as unbridled emotions laced with powerful magic ran rampant through the stony corridors.