Delilah curled up against the heat of the elf's chest. The rhythmic swaying of the horse's gait had lured her into some semblance of sleep and she drifted in the twilight between consciousness and true sleep. She tried to ignore the ache in her ribs and the sting of the scratches on her arms and legs and concentrated solely on the things around her. The sunlight prickling at her bare limbs, the sound of the horse's hooves as they crossed over from the soft padded ground to the hardness of stone, the softness of the elf's shirt. . . Delilah immediately dragged her thoughts away from there. She knew where things would go if she kept *that* up. A breeze drifted through the corridors of Jareth's labyrinth and she shivered slightly. The wind seemed unseasonably cold but then again the wind could be cold during the summer and warm in the winter in this place. She really didn't know and at this point had no real urge to find out.

Gawain easily regained his balance as the woman shifted before him. It was difficult to ride and try to keep both of them from falling off but he was sure that he could manage. A crisp breeze blew and the woman shivered slightly as her hair was lifted up off her shoulders. The elf carefully pulled the strands away from his face and draped them back where they belonged. He was oddly reluctant to let go of them but he forced himself to. He didn't want to offend her by holding on for longer than was appropriate. Humans tended to be so fickle about things like that. Now if she had been an elf like him. . . Gawain shook his head to clear it of the thoughts.

Instead he turned his attention back to the gates they had just rode through. Gareth had insisted that he enter a different way in case that wolf-thing had decided to follow. Gawain hated the idea of splitting up but had been forced to agree. He couldn't hope to out run the thing with the woman who was vainly trying to keep astride in her dress and find a way that she could sit so the bouncing wouldn't jar her wounds too much. His head whipped around as a shadow fell over both the riders and the horse. He wasn't overly surprised to find a white owl carefully circling over them. When it was sure it had their attention the owl drifted a few feet before them the waited for them to catch up.

"Well at least now we know how to make it to the center of this stone prison." He muttered under his breath as he spurred the horse into a faster walk.

To his surprise Delilah chuckled slightly before hunching over grabbing her ribs. "That is exactly what this is." She replied to his questioning glance.

"And now we're going back in."

Somehow Gareth had beaten them back for he met them at the landing before the castle. He helped Delilah slip from the horse's back and she took a few wobbling steps to try to regain her ability to walk. She could feel the muscles in her legs cramping in displeasure of having been used to ride a horse. It had to have been three or four years since she had taken lessons and the hunters' horses were somewhat larger then the docile bay she had ridden back home.

She glanced up at the large castle before her and felt a sinking feeling. She didn't want to go in there. She didn't want to stay here. And she most definitely did not want to go back out into that forest. The surrounding walls of stone that stretched out to make the Labyrinth gave new meaning to the term 'stuck between a rock and a hard place'. She followed the elf lords to the large doors of the castle and quickly glanced up at them. She had always written about fantastical places and strange peoples but she had never thought she would actually meet any. Now that she had she was beginning to wonder if some of them should have remained stories. True, it was fascinating and more then a little thrilling to meet elves and the like, but was the cost of villains such as the wolf and even Jareth himself too much to pay for meeting such people as the hunters and Dreamspinner? She wasn't really sure. The only thing that she was sure about was that this had ceased to be a story and was now a frightening reality.

And she didn't like that idea one bit.

Dreamspinner heard Gareth's mind-call before he entered the Goblin City. He had quickly appraised his Lord and Lady of the recent events and told them to be on the lookout for Gawain and Delilah. Jareth had also sent word when he had the two in sight, and Dreamspinner anxiously awaited their arrival. The great doors opened, and Delilah entered aided by Gawain in what was most definitely a protective manner. Jareth transformed as he flew in the door- looking like an explosion of white feathers. He stalked up to Delilah, and she noticed the lines of his body were tight and it seemed as if every nerve and muscle was coiled in terrible tension.

"What do you think you were doing? Have you no sense at all?" his deadly whisper raised the delicate hairs on the back of Delilah's neck.

She would have rather he had screamed at her, for this calm mask he portrayed was only covering a deadly rage. She felt Gawain slip his arm round her waist to support her, and she was grateful for his warmth. Had she been in a position to see, she would have noticed Gawain's glittering storm-gray eyes turn hard like slate when he gazed at the goblin king.

"Hush Jareth." Dreamspinner said as she moved past the furious goblin king to aid her wounded friend, "It is very obvious that she needs healing. Your temper tantrum can come later when she is better and the timing is more appropriate." Jareth looked at her as if she had just slapped him in the face. Dreamspinner tried not to laugh, and both Gawain and Delilah saw the impish sparkle in her eyes. Gawain sent Dreamspinner an assessment of Delilah's wounds, and she wordlessly lead them to Delilah's rooms. Gawain settled Delilah upon the bed, where she gratefully sank into the fluffy softness of the down comforter.

Dreamspinner sat on the edge of the bed and took Delilah's hands into her own. She smiled gently and Delilah felt a trickle of golden warmth, which soon became a stream, then a river which thankfully washed away all signs of her wounds. Delilah gratefully slipped into the healing slumber her friend offered her.

As Dreamspinner concentrated on the task at hand, something told her to look deeper within, and she cautiously swept her awareness about until she finally saw what the problem was. And it made her very angry. Unbelievably furious. So Bane wanted to play with fire, did he? Stupid pup.

Gawain left the chair he had been sitting in and watched his mistress's face. When her expression of terrible anger became increasingly apparent, he called out for his Lord. Gawain watched in total horror as his mistress did battle with darkness, knowing he could do naught to aid her.

When Gwydion arrived, he saw his fair wife pulling a horrible writhing dark mass from the body of the unconscious blonde woman. Tendrils of it wrapped themselves about her arms as she determinedly pulled the dark weaving apart. With a blast of radiant golden light, Dreamspinner effectively killed the thing, and it emitted one last piercing shriek before it dissolved into nothingness. She then turned her attention to Delilah, banishing all the remaining effects of the dark crystal which had been implanted within her. After neatly mending the tears and tattered edges of Delilah's awareness, Dreamspinner sighed and slumped forward to bury her face in her hands.

Bane cursed and swore as the backlash of power nearly knocked him from his throne. Damn! If Justarus had not wounded the human female as badly as he did, Dreamspinner would not have healed her and his toy would still be alive! Several Unseelies moved away from their King's side to avoid being singed. Bane snarled viscously and blasted a segment of the dais and a few unfortunate members of his court into nonexistence. He called another dark crystal to himself and peered within it.

He could see her...she was perched on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands. Suddenly, she looked up- and their eyes met. Within her eyes he read his doom. He barely felt the surge of power that blasted through the link tying them together. He only saw her sweet smile that did not reach her eyes, and he took that beautiful image with him into oblivion.

Bane's form crumpled and he sagged in his throne, but none dared to touch him. The tell-tale aura of great magic swirled about him and none wished to get caught in it. They could see their King was by no means dead, but something far worse. He was asleep.

"What Bane saw as he slept..." Bane shook his head to clear it. 'That's strange,' he thought to himself, 'where am I?'

"In my realm, Bane." a sweet honeyed voice he thought he recognized answered. Bane turned to face a flame-haired woman who regarded him with grim amusement.

Silver mist curled delicately about her fair form, sweeping past her, reaching its tendrils out, testing the air about him. It recoiled from him voicing its displeasure in tiny whispered songs. "Turnabout is fair play. Are you up for a game, little pup? If I win, you leave me and mine alone. If you lose, I might not kill you." She arched a delicate eyebrow, and Bane felt total terror for the first time in his long life.

"Dreamspinner?" he asked shakily.

"Oh- are you playing human, Bane? Does your need to name things outweigh your common sense? But common sense is not common," The frighteningly beautiful image seemed to ponder something, pressing a finger against her soft rosy lips and tilting her head to one side to slyly regard him, "Well, pup? Like to play with nightmares, do you?"

He could not form an articulate answer.

"I thought as much," she said in a disgusted tone, "For your future enjoyment, I promise that forevermore you will be haunted by the nightmares that you yourself have spun. And you will see them, pup- for you will feel the overwhelming need for sleep, no matter how hard you try to fight it. But worry not, for none in your realm will be able to harm you while you must sleep. Your safety in only this respect is assured. Consider all of this a 'gift' in retaliation for what you have done to Delilah. Run home little pup before that wolf claims your throne." His mind vaguely registered the dark crystals floating above her delicate alabaster hands.

She whispered something to them, and Bane screamed as they gleefully shot forward to strike him in the chest. When he looked down, to his absolute horror, he saw the crystals melting and merging within him. He felt possessive tendrils of the nightmares sadistically caressing his awareness, promising him great adventures as soon as he closed his eyes. She threw him out of her realm with but a flick of power, and he felt himself flying through space and time to land back within the slumped body on the throne with a suddenness that left him gasping for breath.

Startled, he looked about the stone-quiet room. What disturbed him the most was the truly sad smile Dreamspinner had given him before throwing him out of her realm. Those were tears on her cheeks, he was sure of it now as he reviewed their little encounter. None of his court had dared move since he last consciously saw them. As he glanced about they began to return to their old habits of flickering in and out of the shadows and the he slowly leaned back against the hard support of his throne trying to decide how best to handle this new turn of events.

"I don't suppose if I just ignore you you'd disappear like a good little figment of the imagination." Jareth paused in mid step and glared down at what he had thought to be the sleeping form of the newly returned woman.

"I am not a figment of your imagination." He snapped irritably.

Delilah snorted in reply. "I know you're not a figment of my imagination, if you were a figment of my imagination you'd be dark haired with a better attitude, although that accent of yours isn't that far off the mark."

Jareth shook his head to clear it of the muddling and more then a little violent thoughts he was entertaining at this point. "I am not a figment of anyone's imagination, and stop trying to distract me from what I really came here to do!"

The blonde shrugged and shifted into a more comfortable position. "It was worth a try."

Jareth opened his mouth to begin his tirade when a soft knock at the door alerted them to visitors. Jareth glared over at both the elf and the goblin who was precariously carrying a bowl of fruit. Delilah gave him a radiant smile as both the new comers entered, the elf pointedly ignoring Jareth's presence.

"Oh, too bad, Jareth. Seems we'll have to pick this little conversation up later. Time for lunch, then my midmorning nap, and between then Gawain has agreed to give me a comprehensive study of the natural wildlife in this area. I'm sure a man of your stature knows all about these things and you'd be bored to death so I understand you leaving now. Have a wonderful day and please don't let the door hit you on the way out!" She waved vigorously at him in parting.

Jareth's face shaded red but he wisely kept his temper in check. "We *will* talk, my dear."

Delilah looked at him innocently. "But, of course. I'm sure I can fit you into my busy schedule some time. . . " she paused just long enough to allow the fuming man to walk from the room and close the door before softly adding, "like never!" She chuckled before glancing over at her savior. "You know you have impeccable timing, Gawain."

The elf smiled slightly as he handed her the fruit and leaned back in the chair that he had moved next to the bed. "With the way you keep getting in trouble it isn't as hard as it looks."

Delilah feigned a wounded look. "And to think I thought you were a gentleman, humph!" She folded her arms irately and turned her face away.

The elf sighed and pretended to become incredibly engrossed in a stack of papers laying next to the bed. He had trouble making out the handwriting but once he figured out how to decipher between the a's and the o's he become fascinated by the fragments of scribbled episodes that, with a little more expansion, could be formed into a rough sketch of a story.

Delilah, curious as to why he hadn't replied, turned and saw him carefully making out the writing. She yelped in surprise and grabbed the papers from his hands. Gawain blinked and reached for the papers again. Delilah stubbornly held them out of his reach.

A thought occurred to him and the ink stains on her fingers confirmed his suspicion. "You wrote those?"

Delilah hesitated before nodding slowly. "I needed something to do when all of you aren't around but won't let me out of bed." She spoke like she was trying to justify a controversial action and Gawain frowned slightly.

"They were very good." He said slowly watching her reaction. The blue eyes glanced up at him before looking away.

"You're just saying that to be nice." She accused hesitantly.

Gawain shook his head. "No, they really are good. May I finish reading them?"

The woman hesitated before slowly handing the papers back. "If you really want to. . ." she whispered quietly.

"Good morning, or perhaps afternoon would be more appropriate."

Dreamspinner groaned and rolled over pulling the covers back over her head. A soft laugh reached her ears right before the covers were yanked playfully away from her. She tried to retrieve them but finally gave up and decided to use the pillow to hide her face from the bright light of day.

"Not feeling well?" Her husband asked portraying in his tone that he knew full well she wasn't feeling her best.

"Get thee gone!" She murmured wanting just to go back to sleep so the pounding in her head would stop.

"Oh, no dearest. You need to get up and put in an appearance downstairs before I have a mutiny on my hands and the rest of Hunt comes knocking the door down. I can only tell them you're fine without actually producing you for so long." Gwydion admonished gently then added mischievously, "If your having trouble getting up I know one sure way of waking you!"

Dreamspinner sighed deeply and muttered something under her breath. She felt a pair of hands around her waist before she found herself being whisked up and draped over a shoulder.

"I warned you."

She tried to squirm free but only succeeded in slipping a little closer to the floor.

"You wouldn't dare!" She shouted at him right before he dropped her into the bath tub which had been conveniently filled with frigid water.

Shock ran down her spine right before her senses rebelled at the feeling of being drenched in freezing water. She sputtered and tried to stand reaching for a towel. Gwydion had retreated to the bathroom door and when he was half way out he paused and peaked back in.

"Oh, and by the way. Attacking Bane without help was incredibly foolish." He disappeared around the corner right before a wave of water hit the door frame where he had been standing.

*You did not seem to mind my solitary attacking of Bane so much when I freed the Hunt!* Her searing mental retort almost knocked him from his feet. He belatedly realized that he had definitely gone too far this time.

Dreamspinner angrily lashed out at the offending cold water, turning it into a lovely warm lavender-scented soothing bath- just how she preferred it. She glanced down at the silk nightgown which clung to her wet skin. 'Oh well,' she thought to herself as she settled down into the steaming bath, 'Too late now.'

The soft knocking upon her chamber door caught her attention, and she looked up with a frown. After seeing that it was only Jareth, she settled back down into the tub with a sigh.

"Yes? What is it?" she asked softly.

"May I come in?" he asked politely.

"Sure. Why not." came her unenthusiastic reply.

He carefully stepped into the room, and realized where she was, "Oh, I am sorry. Please forgive the intrusion." he said as his eyes sought the floor.

She laughed. "Don't worry. I have my nightgown on! Gwydion thought it was a good idea to wake me by throwing me into a tub-full of frigid water," she all but growled, "Needless to say, I was not amused."

After taking a few hesitant steps, Jareth then purposefully strode toward her, pulling a chair up beside the tub. "You had him worried, I am sure. Humph- I will not make excuses for him. I would not have done that to you." he said as he gazed at her critically, "So. You do not feel well. I thought as much. Give me your hands."

"Why?" she asked curiously.

"Just do it." he said as he took off his gloves, then held out his hands to her. She glanced up at him, and he smiled encouragingly, nodding to her, "It is all right. Come on then." She slowly pulled herself into a kneeling position and held out her hands, which he took within his own.

She jolted when she felt the surge of his magic encompassing her, and collapsed forward into his awaiting embrace. So, she *had* overexerted herself. He wondered why her husband did not help her as he easily lifted her from the tub, laying her on the chaise lounge. He tried not to look at the way the wet silk clung to the curves of her body, but...he shook his head to clear it, knowing full well that this was neither the time or the place for such thoughts. With a whispered word, he dried her clothing and hair, then pulled his chair up close to where she now lay. Again he took her hands within his own, and watched her face intently as he slowly fed her power from the node beneath the castle. When she awoke, she found herself in Jareth's arms and he was holding her tightly. It seemed she had instinctively curled up on him when finding safe harbor. When her eyes rose to meet his she sobbed.

Gwydion decided to go and check on his wife, hoping she was not still angry with him. When he opened the door to their chambers, a disturbing sight met his startled eyes. His wife was sitting curled up next to the goblin king who held her tightly in return. Her head was upon his shoulder, and she was sobbing as if her heart was broken.

Jareth looked up at him and glared, "Go away. I think you have done enough. Do you think it was easy for her to do what she did to Bane? Did you not think? You are the only fool here, Gwydion."

Gwydion put his hand over his mouth as he realized the truth. He sent her a frantic tendril of his thoughts- but her mind was closed to him. Someone was preventing him from reaching her- and that someone was glaring at him in stark accusation.

"Sleep," Jareth whispered, and Dreamspinner sagged in his arms. He calmly wiped away the tears from her face, his eyes never leaving the elf-lord.

Gwydion knew that Jareth had effectively prevented her from seeing him. His finely attuned senses caught the sound of his wife's erratic heartbeat drumming against her ribs like a frightened bird in a cage. He stepped forward.

"Give her to me, Jareth." he said, his voice a deadly whisper.

"You hold no power here, no matter what you may think." Jareth countered.

Finn came around the corner and saw his Lord's stiff posture. He pushed past him to see what the matter was and blanched. Finn watched the two men engage in a deadly war of wills, and finally had enough.

"Give her to me. You are going to hurt her." he said as he calmly walked up to Jareth, using every ounce of his persuasive power to reach the angry man's sense of reason. Jareth's grip on his mistress was none too healthy, and it distressed Finn to no end, "Please. Let me take her out of here and you two can have your little war."

Jareth looked up at Finn almost in a daze, "Yes. Of course. Take her, but do it gently."

Finn collected Dreamspinner in his arms and made a dash for the door. Gwydion reached out to caress her cheek as Finn swept past him. His whispered "I'm sorry" almost brought Finn to tears.

Finn fled down the darkened hallway with his precious burden. He skidded to a halt when he reached the rooms he had been assigned. With a sigh, he mentally forced the door open. He crossed over to the bed and gently laid Dreamspinner down upon it. When she began to shudder uncontrollably, he carefully laid down beside her and pulled her into his warm embrace. She moved about until she had positioned her head upon his chest then she sighed contentedly. Finn thoughtfully stroked her bright hair, and her soft locks curled about his fingers.

*Bright one?* he thought as he gently kissed her.

*Finn...*

Justarus watched the Unseelie king from the shadows of the throne room trying to determine how best to approach this situation. He knew full well that he was on the king's hit list but he didn't have anywhere else to go. As much as he wanted to be seen as a loner he knew he couldn't survive without Bane's help. He slipped around the side of the throne room keeping to the dark easily slipping between the forms of the milling Unseelies. Bane seemed unusually preoccupied and he felt his curiosity getting the better of him. Something had happened but he couldn't figure out exactly what that something was. No matter. It would only be a brief stretch of time before this arrogant king slipped and gave him the clues he needed to regain a foothold on the man. All he had to do was wait. True, waiting was exactly his forte but he could wait.

He was a hunter after all.

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