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Chapter Text

Toby scowled at the rain pouring down, making tear-like streams on the school bus window. He would be really happy if it stopped. It was such a nuisance that Toby even thought the 'W' word.

Sarah had spent the last eight years drilling into Toby's mind that the 'W' word was never to be spoken, and only thought of when making his birthday wish. It was too dangerous, she said, and Toby never questioned why. He had dreams about wishes, nightmares about what they could do, and Sarah explained that all wishes had a cutting edge. Still, with the rain pouring down and the knowledge that he would be spending breaks cooped up with the rest of the fourth graders, Toby really wanted to use the word 'wish'.

An hour to the north of Toby's school, Sarah was thinking rather the same thing as she inwardly cursed the rain. Today was an important day for the production, and even with her umbrella, she was sopping wet. Sarah would have happily wished the rain away if she thought the Goblin King would take it. Or if she trusted him enough to only take the rain here, and leave enough for crop to grow on the rest of the earth. You had to think about these things when making wishes. It was a lesson Sarah had learned eight years ago.

It was only the first of several life lessons that the Labyrinth gave Sarah. The only other one she had actually been taught in the process of rescuing Toby was that life was not fair. However, throughout the unfairness, and Karen's rather biting remarks, Sarah's friends had been there for her. Sarah had never stopped seeing Hoggle, Didymus, or Ludo in her mirror. She had even had a rather enlightening chat with Hoggle this morning about rosebushes. Sarah knew her friends were real. Or she was schizophrenic, but Sarah was fairly sure it was the former case.

The next lesson, Sarah had learned on her sixteenth birthday, when her first boyfriend laughingly joked that Sarah was a bit old for imaginary friends. Sarah now found much better hiding places for her journal. What she knew to be real, others assumed was not, and Sarah could not risk being thought of as weirder than she already seemed to be. Other lessons followed, and Sarah was fairly sure she could be clinically classified as paranoid. To compensate for the abnormality of her dearest friends, Sarah attempted to keep up the most ordinary façade, to the point that most people simply thought Sarah liked fantasy. This was hardly remarked upon, as many great actresses had the same habit.

To preserve the act, however, Sarah had to keep most people at arms length. She had made some friends, but none were close. Toby was the nearest Sarah had to a best friend. Even at the theater, Sarah was known for being distant. The manager thought it was fantastic, a symptom of the 'daydreams' that made Sarah such a passionate actress. The other actors found it slightly disturbing, though, and sometimes resented the fact that Sarah rarely went out with the rest of the company.

Sarah shook the thoughts from her head and the rain from her hair, as she walked through the theater's back door. Today was the day that the cast would be determined, and Sarah could hardly let her mind wander to such things as the Labyrinth, or its dangerous master.

Ferra was a young actress, in her sophomore year at the Univeristy. She knew she was good. She adored the theater. Ferra was even majoring in stage acting. She simply could not understand what was going on, however. Ferra had always gotten a leading role in high school, especially in musicals, but here they refused to recognize her talent. Instead a graduate, with a degree in Accounting of all things, had gotten the role of Eponine, while Ferra was merely her understudy. It drove Ferra insane. Eponine's songs and role came to her naturally, and she found it ludicrous that the ice-queen Sarah had gotten it. Why? The producer told her it was because Sarah had more passion in her voice, was better at belting. Ferra had looked Sarah Williams up, however, and found out about her mother. The truth came crashing down upon her in that moment. Sarah had been chosen because she had a name, a history that everyone would recognize, and the superior Ferra had been left in the gutter as an understudy.

Ferra wanted desperately to wipe the smile off of Sarah Williams's face. As authentic as it seemed, Ferra knew that it could only hold contempt for her. Sarah blissfully went over her experience of being an understudy and congratulated Ferra multiple times. It was all Ferra could do to keep her countenance calm. Would that fate had given her the famous mother! The thunder echoed Ferra's foul mood, and reminded Sarah of her swiftly approaching damp walk home. The good thing about the modern time was that it would be simple to make a photocopy of Eponine's lines and not worry about getting the theater's copy wet in the rain.

After her little conference with Ferra, Sarah went back to the only room in the theater that did not exhibit an artistic flair. It was far from a bland office with cubicles, but there were no grand paintings or beautiful drapes. Sarah set to her task of copying the script, the mindless hum and whir of the copying machine lulling Sarah into deep thought. This was life aboveground, mindless and noisy. As much as she loved her brother, adored learning and the theater, after her stint in the Labyrinth, Sarah felt strangely uncomfortable in the real world. It was as if she did not truly belong here.

Entirely lost in her musings, Sarah jumped when the door slammed open, and an unhappy Ferra poked her head in. Ferra's mood seemed even more negatively impacted by the weather than Sarah's. As much as she was not a social person, Sarah was far from stupid, and quickly proffered the first copy she had made to Ferra. They did not have to pay to use the copier, after all. The only thing Sarah sacrificed was a bit of time, something that she could generally afford these days. Ferra took the copy of the script ungraciously, with a forced smile toward Sarah as she left. Sarah turned back to her task with a small tweak of the lips, and let her mind begin to wander once again.

Sarah's mood fell as she made the mad dash back to her apartment, hoping that nothing would get irreparably wet. She had been looking forward to taking tea with Didymus, but his old 'war wounds' always seemed to act up when there was a strong storm. Sarah would probably receive an apology when she met him at the mirror. It looked like the rest of her day might be a lonely one, with just Sarah and her lines. Sarah didn't notice her copy of Labyrinth lying open on her entry table, but she did hear the hushed patter of tiny, retreating footsteps.

"Goblins? You better be behaving. There will be consequences if you've gotten into my lipstick again." Sarah poked her head into her apartment's restroom, where the toilet paper and cosmetics seemed, thankfully, just as she had left them this morning. Of course, Sarah's friends had not been the only ones to follow her out of the Labyrinth. She also received visits from goblins, who seemed to have taken a liking to her. Sarah stepped into her bedroom, where a particularly tiny goblin was jumping on the bed, a small white box forgotten on the floor.

"Sarah! King send present!" Sarah sighed, patting the little thing absently on the head. As much as Sarah would very much enjoy forgetting about the Goblin King, he insisted on sending her a gift every year a few days before her birthday. Sarah had never opened one, but there was a rather large stack of the white boxes in her closet. To be quite honest, Sarah was unsure whether she refused to open his presents out of spite, or because she wondered if he sent her perfume bottles filled from the Bog of Eternal Stench.

"Thanks, Kibble. You did good job staying out of trouble. Do you want a cookie?"

"COOOKIIIEEEE!" Sarah took the exclamation as agreement, carefully tucking the white box away with the other seven. In attending to the kitchen, Sarah hardly noticed the draft that blew through her entry hall, flipping her copy of Labyrinth open to an illustration of the Goblin King's castle.

In the University dorms, a few miles away, Ferra took some aspirin, resting her forehead against the cool floor length mirror. All this anger had given her a headache and left her flushed. The math homework she had been attempting had only exacerbated the problem. The cool breeze running through the dorm room picked up, relieving her slightly of her symptoms.

A distracting flash of color swept across the pained drama student's vision, causing Ferra to leap further into the dorm room and search for the cause. Ferra caught sight of a foreign object on her dresser, one she had been fairly sure had not been there when she entered. With an annoyed, dark thought toward her pesky little botanist roommate for leaving her things lying about, Ferra picked up the slender, leather bound book. With a questioning frown, Ferra flipped it over to see the words "Labyrinth, a Faerie play" embossed in gold. Ferra's lips turned up into a small smile, the first of the day. Perhaps Ferra's roommate deserved some thanks for being so thoughtful.

Ferra stayed up half the night reading the play, homework momentarily forgotten. She found the play intriguing, with the story of a brave heroine that she longed to play, even if it was just once. Strange, thought, the concept of wishing someone away, and actually having it work. It was most certainly something Ferra wished could happen in real life. Ferra sniggered at the thought. Oh yes, there was a good deal someone could do with a single wish.

Three days later, Sarah blushed as the lighting coordinator brought out an enormous cake with twenty-three candles on it. The cake could only be for Sarah's birthday, and was a tradition that Sarah would rather have forgotten. There were some very few things that Sarah truly enjoyed on her birthday. Despite the weather, all three of her friends from the Labyrinth always took breakfast with her, a right treat for Sarah. Another was the dinner she always had with her family, small but nonetheless happy. Sarah never remembered her dreams from the night before her birthday, but they inevitably left her giddy and refreshed when she awoke in the morning. There was little better than that in this life. The time Sarah was forced to spend at work, smiling through social events seemed to be a counterbalance intended entirely to bring Sarah down to reality.

It was with relief that Sarah finally claimed an early exit. She wanted plenty of time to prepare for her long drive tonight. Just once, Sarah would like her father and Karen to drive up for her birthday, but their arguments against the matter were reasonable. Sarah shucked her raincoat with relief, rolling her eyes at the rainstorm that simply refused to end. Be it a drizzle or proverbial buckets, it had not stopped raining in for days, and it was beginning to bother Sarah.

Ferra excused herself to the bathroom the moment the cake had been cleared away. That damn Sarah had to have gotten the lead role, had to have all the techs wrapped around her alabaster finger. Ferra's frustration had increased four-fold when she had realized how similar their names sounded. Most heinous of all, her birthday celebration had taken up a precious day of practice. An idea wiggled its way into Ferra's mind. It was a ridiculous thought, absolutely silly. But, then again, Ferra could always use a little practice, even if it was to an empty bathroom. She was sure that was all it would be. A few pretty lines said to an invisible audience, one she could pretend would respond with bated breath as they waited for the Goblin King's answer. With a theatric sigh, Ferra rested one hand on the basin of the sink, and struck a properly dramatic pose. "I wish the goblins would take Sarah Williams away," in a whisper, she added, "right now."

Sound rushed in Ferra's ears and she jumped as a silky voice chuckled. Ferra turned around, her breath hitching as a tall man with feathery blonde hair came into her sights. There was something off about his smile as he proffered a small crystal ball. Ferra's mind worked madly in confusion. "What is that?"

"It is a dream. Take it and forget Sarah."

Ferra gasped. Had she really managed to summon the Goblin King? With only a moment's hesitation, Ferra lunged forward and seized the crystal. The sardonic grin followed her as the bathroom melted away and Ferra found herself in the middle of the cast members, reciting Eponine's lines.

Sarah's heart did a flip as the clock to her left stopped ticking. Everything fell quiet, and there was no sound of traffic from the busy street outside. Sarah knew magic when she felt it, and so she found herself making her way to the nearest mirror in alarm.

It took longer than she expected, for moving through the magic residue was like wading through hip deep mud. Sarah had barely made it to the bathroom mirror when a voice she recognized all to well interrupted her. "Well, Sarah. Isn't this a surprise?"

Sarah flushed, refusing to turn and look at the intruder. "Hello, Goblin King. I'm guessing you aren't here to congratulate me on another year of life."

Jareth moved up behind Sarah, so the she could watch his every movement in the mirror, gracing him with a scowl. "It is quite interesting, actually. Some child just wished you away to me."

At this revelation, Sarah whirled around. "What?"

Jareth smirked. "Indeed. I was most shocked as well. Who would not find utter bliss in your presence?" The sarcasm in his voice burned at Sarah's ears. "No matter. She did not even consider running the Labyrinth. You are mine now, Sarah."

Sarah quivered in anger. "Who would do something like that? And I thought you didn't steal adults, Goblin King."

Jareth's smirk faded. "I'll make an exception for you, Sarah. I always have." He hardly had a choice in the matter, Jareth thought vehemently.

Sarah sat down on the edge of her sink, letting the words sink in. "Am I allowed to take anything with me? Am I allowed to say goodbye?"

Jareth sighed. This was so much more difficult with adults. "The forgetting has already begun. Most everyone thinks you are deceased in some tragedy that occurred last night. As for your things, I suppose you'll want the contents of your closet." His sardonic tone was barely perceptible this time

Sarah blinked, thinking of all the sentimental items that she kept in her closet. Even her journal was in a specialized cubby there, alongside her jewelry box and Lancelot. "That would actually be perfect." Both of them felt the shift of magic that indicated Sarah's will had been done. Jareth was extremely glad that Sarah would assume it was his work, especially when a puff of glitter exuded from her bedroom.

With that done, Sarah and Jareth suddenly found themselves in the castle's throne room. It seemed to be made of a stone closer to granite than the sandstone Sarah remembered, but it was a majestic look that suited Jareth. A crowd of goblins came zooming into the room with the sole intention of flocking Sarah. Imperiously ascending the stairs to his throne, Jareth waved one gloved hand at his goblins. "Take Sarah somewhere . . ." Jareth grinned mockingly, "nice."

Chapter Text

Considering Jareth's tone when he'd told the goblins to take her somewhere nice, Sarah would never have expected the suite that she found herself in. Of course, the goblins had gotten lost of the way to the room. Several times, in fact. One would think that a creature living in the castle would know its way around, but then again, they were goblins, and goblins were possibly the most ineffectual creatures on the planet, or rather, in the Underground. The room was absolutely gorgeous, in tones of gold and palest blue. An obscenely large bed took up a great deal of the room, but there was also a bowl shaped indent by the window filled with pillows. Sarah was pushed in, and the door locked behind her. Poking her head through the various other doorways, Sarah found the most luxurious bathroom, with a bathtub the size of a large Jacuzzi. Not only were the contents of Sarah's closet here, but so were all the other things she had valued in her apartment. The bookshelf was next to the window area, her cosmetics artistically arranged on the vanity.

Jareth's gifts to her were on her bed. Sarah raised an eyebrow at that, but she could hardly imagine the arrogant Goblin King doing anything but throwing a fit when he discovered that his presents had gone unappreciated. Sarah attempted to move them, but every time she turned around, the white box would be back where it had started. With a growl, Sarah gave up and went back into the bathroom. By the time Sarah returned, her stomach was loudly protesting that she had eaten nothing but strawberry cake since breakfast. Sarah's hair dripped copiously on the floor as she made her way to the wardrobe, and while her torso was within the dark beast, Sarah heard a clink. Removing her head from the many hanging dresses and blouses, Sarah turned enough to see that a food tray had been magicked onto the bedside table. Well, wasn't that considerate of Jareth? Still, Sarah was angry with him for his lack of explanation. A smirking 'You're mine' was hardly enough to satisfy Sarah's curiosity.

Finally dressed, Sarah turned to the food tray, wondering what she would find there. It was simple fare that reminded Sarah of home, with a hefty serving of shepherd's pie. Under a glass cover a small chocolate cake waited, with the words 'Happy Birthday Sarah' written in silver icing, along with a smile. Sarah took a moment to shake her head at the lengths the Goblin King would go to merely for the sake of mocking her. However, it would not do to waste good chocolate, and so Sarah ate the cake slowly, before retiring to sleep in the pillow pit.

Sarah woke at midnight, when the clock in her room stuck thirteen. Feeling tired and a bit listless, she turned on her side to look out on the Labyrinth. To be quite honest, as much as she had loved Toby, Sarah felt like she belonged here more than she did in the mortal world. Not that she would ever let the Goblin King know that. No, now that she was here, Sarah knew her first priority would be finding Hoggle come morning, and then going to visit Ludo and Didymus. Wouldn't the three be so surprised?

But there was another matter that weighed heavily on Sarah's mind, and she knew that only the Goblin King would be able to answer it properly. Sarah did not particularly like the idea of becoming a goblin, or a crazy old lady with a bird for a hat. Even as she thought about it, it seemed rather strange, even with the amount of magic she knew the Goblin King to have. Turning babies into goblins just did not quite suit his sense of melodrama. Sure, he had to get the goblins from somewhere, but after confronting the Goblin King twice, she was beginning to think that he would be more likely to turn the babies into something a little more . . . sparkly. Sometime later, after giving the issue much thought, Sarah nodded off again to sleep the rest of the night.

Sarah woke in the morning to a feminine looking goblin peering at her face. Sarah jumped a couple feet across the pillow-lined bowl with a yelp. "Milady Sarah? What's ya doing by window?" Now that Sarah could see the goblin, she could tell that its attire mimicked that of a maid, making it highly likely that this goblin was female, though Sarah had previously never considered the idea.

"Um, there were boxes," Sarah looked at her bed, only to find it empty. "On my bed," she finished dreamily. "That's odd."

The goblin maid blinked at Sarah like she was insane. "I help you dress."

Sarah raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "That's very nice, but I can do that by myself."

The goblin maid, however, refused to be moved. "King command Mizra help you dress." Sarah barely blinked, and suddenly the maid was holding up a corset.

"Yes, well, that's lovely, but I can dress myself without help, and you may go tell His Bloody Majesty that." The goblin maid stared at Sarah with what she thought was an offended look. "I'm not wearing a corset, Mizra. I've never worn one, except on stage."

A stare down was the result of Sarah's comment, and Sarah was starting to get the feeling she was going to lose when the goblin maid acquiesced with a grumbled, "Mizra be back with breakfast."

Sarah sighed gratefully. If Jareth wanted her in a corset, he was going to have to magic her into one, because Sarah could think of few circumstances she would willingly don one. Sarah retreated to the Wardrobe, only to find a pile of white boxes on top of it. Something had acquiesced to her stubbornness.

One breakfast of toast and eggs later, and Sarah started her explorations of the castle. More exactly, her search for the door out to the gardens where she knew Hoggle would likely be spraying fairies. However, no matter how many ways she attempted to turn and walk, Sarah kept finding herself either in the throne room or at her door. In a burst of anger, Sarah stomped her foot. "I just want to find Hoggle!" To her surprise, a door in the middle of the corridor opened, and though Sarah could have sworn she was several floors up, it opened out into the rose garden. "Thank you. You were never this helpful when I was running the Labyrinth."

Sarah slipped out of the door, and was rather amazed when it remained where it was. "Well then, now it shouldn't be too hard to find him." Sarah closed her eyes and listened, knowing that in the Labyrinth the latter was the truer sense. She heard some grumbling that paused at regular intervals, which Sarah instinctively remembered from the beginning of her first journey into the Labyrinth. "Hoggle?" She called out.

Across the garden, the dwarf rose from his bent position and twisted around, looking for the source of Sarah's voice. "Sarah?" His eyes widened when he saw her. "What are you doing here? I thought you were smart 'nuff to know not to come back."

Sarah loped over to Hoggle with a smile. "I, um, got wished away. There's a reason I'm here and not lost out in the hedgemaze."

"Jareth took ye? That's strange. Not like him. 'As he talked to ye?"

Sarah snorted. "Hardly. His Ever Distant Highness hasn't even made an appearance since he stole me last night, and he made it very clear he was reluctant to do so." Sarah gazed off into the distance. "I'm not so sure I want to stay, myself."

Hoggle looked increasingly more confused, but turned attention away from that by obfuscating, as he always did. "Crazy talk! I expect you'll want to see the furry ones?"

Sarah smiled, perfectly aware of Hoggle's tactics. "That would be lovely, especially since I don't remember how to get to the Bog. They're still living by the bog?"

Hoggle shook his head. "Ludo can't stand the smell! No, they've moved a bit closer in and Didymus works in Jareth's guard."

Sarah brought her hand up to her mouth to stifle a snort. "No wonder he didn't tell me he switched commands, if he's working more directly for the Goblin King."

Hoggle snorted, waving at Sarah to follow him. "He just got the position, actually. He'd been riding Ambrosius to the bog every day."

Hoggle led Sarah through a small part of the Labyrinth before they started to climb a slight hill covered in greenery. It reminded Sarah a little of the firey's forest, except all was calm where they trod. It was a quiet trip, with only small reminders from Hoggle that this was highly irregular. A large tree stood majestic at the top of the hill, and they descended a ladder at the base of its trunk. Sarah was barely halfway down when Ludo exclaimed "Sawah!"

Sarah jumped the last three feet to hug her friend. "Ludo! How are you?"

"Ludo happy."

"That's fantastic, Ludo. Say, where's Didymus?" Sarah embraced her large, shaggy friend.

"Brother work." Ludo nodded his at the ladder.

Sarah smiled widely at Ludo. "Well then, why don't we head over and visit him. Would you be alright with that, Hoggle?"

Hoggle grumbled a little, but agreed. They had to follow a tunnel out, for Ludo was a bit too cumbersome for the ladder. Some of the rocks along the way had a strange luminescence to them that intrigued Sarah and had her wishing that she had taken more science courses in college. They emerged some time later, just beyond the Firey's forest. From afar off, Sarah could hear their frightening song, and she could see Hoggle shudder. They sounded eerie and more sinister, than Sarah remembered, and she saw no flashes of bright color that indicated their presence. With a little shake of her head, Sarah followed after Hoggle, talking animatedly with Ludo.

They were a little over halfway to the goblin city in what seemed like less than half an hour to Sarah. Hoggle kept making strange noises when he looked back at her, and Sarah could not, for the life of her, figure out why. That was, until Ludo disappeared with a crash just after Sarah's feet left the same tile. "Ludo? Ludo, are you okay?"

Hoggle muttered a little before rolling his eyes. "I'll go after him, Sarah. Just keep headin' for the city and you'll find Didymus."

"Oh, Hoggle. Stay safe." Watching in trepidation, Sarah bid farewell to the dwarf as he jumped down the hole after Ludo. Looking back occasionally, Sarah did as Hoggle had told her. The way was a great deal simpler than it had been, and Sarah saw no signs of the great rubbish heap that they had gone through last time. Peering around corners, Sarah's breath caught in her throat when she heard a sound from farther up the passage.

"There I was, guarding the bridge with my life. And would you believe, my good sir, that the bog is truly as foul as one might think!" High pitched, but somehow still heavy sounding, chuckles were heard after that profound statement.

Heart beating wildly in anticipation, Sarah turned the corner to be met with the oddest spectacle. Among some rubble that lay around a fallen stone wall, sat Sir Didymus with his little muzzle buried in a tankard, next to Sir Didymus sat a goblin, of about the good knight's own hearty stature. The goblin's face was equally hidden within a tankard that threatened to encapsulate its head. The air was filled with the heavy scent of alcohol, Sarah presumed it to be ale, and various caskets, that varied from empty to half full, were strewn about.

As Sarah watched the little goblin, apparently quite far gone, attempted to tip the container to catch a last drop of ale and fell backward in an unconscious drunken stupor.

"Haha!" hiccupped Sir Didymus, also far into his cups, "I win this bout, my good comrade Braldrr! You should know full well what happens when one challenge Sir Didymus! Am I right, Ambrosius? ... Ambrosius? Now where has he gone too?"

Ambrosius, clearly being of far sounder mind than his master, had seen Sarah arrive. Utterly delighted, Sir Didymus' clever steed had left his master to his drink and welcomed Sarah with a wagging tail and happy smile. Ambrosius gave a sharp bark in reply to Sir Didymus' call.

"Ambrosius? Ambrosius? Confound it, I can't see! Where have you run off to this time?" Sir Didymus called out, vision obscured by his tankard, now a helmet.

Sarah could barely contain her smile as she walked over to her dear friend's side, and gently lifted the object off his head. Sir Didymus, startled at the sudden removal, leaped backward and valiantly brandished his weapon.

"Who goes there? Ha! And Ha! And Ha again, I say! Get back, or face the wrath of Sir Didymus! Quickly Captain Braldrr you must awaken, we have an enemy in our midst!"

Perfectly safe from the drunken wobbling of Sir Didymus' weapon, Sarah gave a bright laugh, "At ease, good Sir Didymus!"

Sir Didymus froze, and stared up at her with bleary eyes that slowly began to clear, "…Lady Sarah?" In shock, Sir Didymus – though he would deny it later – lost his grip on his weapon, as he fumbled to bow. Which was foiled as Sarah swept in and gave him a ferocious hug.

"This is highly unseemly! Milady!" despite his protests, Sir Didymus did not seem to mind the embrace all that much.

Sarah laughed and put him down gently, "I have missed you, Sir Didymus!"

"And I you, milady," Sir Didymus said, as he gallantly bowed before her, "But what brings you back to the Labyrinth?"

Hoping to avoid broaching that subject with her friend, as it would ruin what she hoped to be a pleasant day spent not thinking about her predicament, Sarah borrowed one of Hoggle's tactics and changed the subject. "Never mind that for now, oh Sir Didymus, it really is wonderful to see you again. I hope I didn't interrupt you and your friend?"

Sir Didymus had all but forgotten about his collapsed comrade and hastened to the goblin's side. He did so, however, not out of concern. "Captain Braldrr, you must awaken! There is a lady present! Up! Arise noble captain!" he said, furiously shaking the goblin's lax body. Braldrr made a small muzzy sound, looked around momentarily, and then collapsed back into the dirt.

"You lout! Get up! Such poor manners you have, Captain Braldrr!"

Groaning, Braldrr, with great effort, managed to crack open his eyes and, with Sir Didymus' flighty assistance, managed to stand to his feet and execute a wobbly bow before falling back to the ground, loud snores reverberating in the air.

"Oh, forgive him, milady! I am afraid the good Captain is not himself at the moment!"

In no way offended, Sarah rather found the odd little goblin to be a refreshing change from the rambunctious ones that had the run of the castle. Still, Sarah laughed lightly at Didymus's dismay. "It's quite alright, Sir Didymus. I'm sure your companion is highly honorable. You enjoy working with him?"

If he were less exceptionally fuzzy, Sarah would have seen Didymus flush. "It is quite thrilling, Milady. We have fought many a great battle at each other's side. Hast thou come here by yourself?"

Leaving Captain Braldrr behind, Sarah sat down at the small table with Sir Didymus. "I was walking with Hoggle and Ludo, but Ludo fell into one of the –"

Didymus leapt to his feet, waving his weapon about with a flourish, effectively interrupting Sarah. "My brother! We must rescue Ludo! Into battle, milady!" Sarah jumped up to follow Didymus as he leapt onto Ambrosius and dashed off gallantly. Unfortunately, it was only a bit before noon, so the idyllic scene was left incomplete. The path seemed to have changed from the one Sarah had walked just minutes ago, and she was left chasing after Didymus through an entirely unfamiliar pattern of walls. Didymus finally halted several minutes later, confronted by a pair of twin doors. Sarah recognized the place as where she had spoken to the knockers eight years ago, but the doors were uncommonly normal. Didymus sat astride Ambrosius before the wooden constructs, considering the choices laid out before him.

Sarah had just caught up with Didymus when one of the handles turned and a door opened to allow Hoggle and Ludo passage. Sarah sighted them with relief. She was beginning to run out of breath, and experience warned her that Didymus would likely continue until Ambrosius revolted. Didymus greeted Ludo with joy, and Sarah smiled happily at Hoggle. The friends reunited, they ambled through the Labyrinth, back to the rose garden. This visit to the Labyrinth was strange to Sarah. Everything seemed so similar, and yet was just a little . . . off. The only thing that remained exactly the same was the glitter. Sarah hadn't realized quite how much there was last time she had run the Labyrinth, but it was all over her clothes now and Sarah thought it might be annoying come bath time.

The sun fell through the sky rather faster than Sarah expected, and soon enough Hoggle was rushing Sarah toward the castle, rambling on about how he wanted her to be back before Jareth noticed her missing. That caused Sarah to snort. As if. Nothing untoward had happened, the Goblin King had not appeared out of nowhere making cruel comments and demanding outrageous things. It seemed as if Jareth was entirely determined to ignore Sarah.

Nevertheless, Hoggle was quite insistent, and Sarah was forcefully pushed into the castle. With a huff, Sarah tread onward, following the hallway to what she thought would be her room. Smells wafted down the hallway, making Sarah think of Potatoes Au Gratin and other such dishes. It definitely had potatoes and cheese: that much Sarah's nose communicated. It was with some slight shock that Sarah found herself in a dining room with a long golden table and only one place set. With a bout of suppressed laughter, Sarah moved into the dining room, heading for the steaming dish before the single chair. "Really? How Beauty and the Beast," Sarah murmured, settling herself down with care. "Be our guest?" Sarah smirked, twirling a spoon between her fingers. The movie was only a few years old, but Sarah had enjoyed it immensely and identified easily with Belle. Sarah knew the lines by heart, almost as well as she had memorized the lines from Labyrinth. Thinking through it helped relieve the tedium of eating alone just as much when she had resided Aboveground.

It was not much later that Sarah found herself making her way back to her room. Her first day in the Labyrinth had been better than she had expected after last night. Sarah recounted the great fun she had enjoyed to herself as she prepared for bed, attempting valiantly to crush the many questions she now wished to pose to the Goblin King. Who had wished her away was fairly evident to Sarah, who was not nearly as oblivious as the theater staff thought her to be. There was only one who had shown symptoms of anger and frustration with her recently, and though Sarah was not close to the rest of the theater staff, neither was she completely blind. Sarah had lived with Karen for a few years, and had learned a great deal about sensing moods. That was not the focus of her questions. A little nagging thought whispered that she would love to know how Toby was doing, that she would give anything to find out, but logic interfered. No, Sarah wanted to know so much more about this place that was to be her new home, and she thought the transition might possibly be slightly smoother if she and the Goblin King were on good terms. None of this was possible as long as he remained aloof and out of sight.

Sarah huffed, yanking a brush through her hair. Not only that, but the Labyrinth seemed to be changing even more than it had when she had been attempting to solve it. It was as if it was constantly shifting, and had come more alive in the last eight years. However, Sarah assumed that illusions were commonplace enough that she wasn't sure whether the Labyrinth was changing or her perception of it was. Sarah's eyes trailed around the room, thinking of her accommodations and what she could possibly do with herself tomorrow, for both Hoggle and Didymus had claimed they had important work to do within the Labyrinth, leaving Sarah to her own devices. That was a prospect that had Sarah angry with Jareth all over again. Sarah might very well die of boredom, or possibly curiosity, before the Labyrinth did something like drop her into an oubliette again.

Though it was a word she detested using, Sarah could not help but think that this was far from fair. The Labyrinth felt more like home than anyplace without Toby ever had, and yet she was stuck with wherever Hoggle deigned to take her or the few places the castle itself cared to allow her into. The only mentally stimulating thing she had was her bookshelves, which would get tedious very quickly. Furious and exhausted, Sarah collapsed onto the enormous bed. If nothing else, she was determined to at least get a decent night's sleep

Chapter Text

Quite honestly, Sarah was sick with boredom. She hated being cooped up in this musty, glitter-encrusted excuse of a castle, with not a conversation partner in sight. Sarah thought she might have been able to handle it if she were with her three friends, but it had been two days since her adventure with the three of them, and the castle had not let her out since. Sarah was going stir crazy.

It was this development that began a plot – a secret plot, as the only one there was to share it with was Mizra, who was far from likely to assist in Sarah's escape. Sarah found one of her notepads, printed with a grid, but still usable, and began a map of what she could see of the Labyrinth. When Mizra brought Sarah lunch, the pad was stashed quickly under a convenient heap of pillows. Thankfully, Sarah's deserts had stopped sporting wise crack sayings, like they had for her previous meals. Either the Goblin King had sensed her foul mood, or he had gotten too lazy to continue. Sarah favored the latter.

Once Mizra had left, Sarah picked at her apple slices while going over her sketch. It was not the best work. In reality, anyone else would have assumed it was a child's drawing, but the sketch would suit her purpose well enough. Sarah finished what she wanted of her lunch quickly and poked her head out the door to make sure the hall was clear. It was an empty gesture, as the only goblin she'd seen since the Goblin had exiled her to her room was Mizra, who was long gone.

Sarah tiptoed out the door and whispered, "I would please like to visit the rose garden." Better not to raise the Goblin King's interest. This would be ordinary enough, as she'd been out into the garden a few times already. To Sarah's relief, a door swung open, and she went dashing outside. Her plan to escape the Labyrinth was now in action. What she would do once out was beyond her. Sarah had yet to even think about the consequences of her plan. All she cared about was getting out.

It proved to be more difficult than Sarah had predicted. It was nearly dark, and Sarah was both frustrated and still in the inner sections of the Labyrinth. Angry, Sarah turned toward the castle and made her way back. She had been running into dead-ends and a forested wall all afternoon, and was tired of it. She needed a better plan, and preferably some dinner. It was much easier to get back to the castle than it had been to progress through the Labyrinth, and so Sarah huffed angrily. She needed an innovative idea, or Hoggle, if she had any hope of getting out. Tomorrow, though, Sarah was going to pay a visit to the infuriating Goblin King, and give him a piece of her mind.

It was with this unsettled fury that Sarah retired to her room for the night.

"The Lady Verochiel and her Lord husband, of the House of Brilliant Moon here to see her Highness - Empress Caoilfhinn of the line of Rébereth - to discuss matters of extreme urgency regarding the treatise violations with the esteemed House of Dawn-"

This chair is extremely uncomfortable. The Ruler of the Sidhe kingdom thought distractedly, lips fighting to retain the dignified smile that threatened to droop into a despairing grimace. Brightly lit, the golden ballroom with its shining decorations and brilliantly attired guests created a mixed palette of flashing lights that stabbed into the Empress' taxed eyes. Caoilfhinn would have given anything to simply jump from the throne -impressive as it looked, it felt just as it appeared: a solid piece of rock hard metal- and join the dancers that delicately spun and whirled across the floor. Or, better yet, escape to the open terrace, the curtains in the open doorway beckoned to her invitingly as they gently billowed from the slight wind.

Temptation offered, Caoilfhinn began plotting her escape route.

"-The House of Dawn has refused any concessions and-"

"Pardon me. I do hate to interrupt such an important matter but I believe the Empress sent for me, and I would hate to disappoint."

The unexpected interruption drew a few muffled gasps of shock. It was unheard of for meetings with the empress to be interrupted without explicit warning.

Caoilfhinn returned her attention from dreamy thoughts of parties that were fun and never involved having to settle ownership disputes over fowl that had crossed territory borders, when a new voice entered the political drivel that had been unceasingly humming like a stinging wasp in her ear for the better part of the evening.

Had her scribe any less decorum, he would have been spluttering in shock in addition to the brilliant shade of red he had turned. The Sidhe nobles, however, had managed to impressively hide their astonishment amidst an equally impressive amount of disdain at the new Sidhe's audacity.

"-I-I-heard no such thing. You must be mistaken." Her scribe managed to say as he recovered himself in time to save his composure.

"No, I have a writ here, from her Highness, requesting my presence." The male Sidhe held out a parchment with the royal seal stamped in red wax broken where the rolled edges met. Or at least, an incredibly accurate facsimile of the royal seal, seeing as how Caoilfhinn had never sent a writ.

The scribe turned to her, suspicion of falsehood laid out clearly across his face. Ignoring him, Caoilfhinn held out a hand imperiously,

"Bring it to me." Hastily, the scribe complied and brought it to before the Empress.

Examining the seal, Caoilfhinn admitted that unless there was a Sidhe out there who was incredibly clever and more of a mage then she, this was a real seal. Unrolling the parchment, Caoilfhinn read the contents and refused to allow her reaction to show on her face.

"All of you remove yourselves from the audience circle. It appears I have forgotten of your audience, Lord Eorlth."

Eorlth gave a slight smile, and bowed low. "It is of no consequence your Royal Highness. I am merely grateful for a minutia of your Royal time." The glint in his eye told her that, yes, he was perfectly aware of how obsequious he sounded.

Once all others had cleared her audience circle, and consequently the area her privacy spell enclosed, Caoilfhinn allowed to herself to relax a little by leaning back into her seat.

"So, how did you get it?" She asked Eorlth with excited curiosity.

"Get what, your Highness?"

She waved the writ at him with a slight wrist motion, "This. How did you get this? I sent this to Jareth nearly half a century ago."

"Ah, that. Well, upon receiving it Jareth was occupied and so told me to read it aloud to him."

So he could deny ever reading it. Caoilfhinn thought to herself, annoyance warring with delight at being outwitted. It would also explain why the letter had never been erased as it should have been upon being received. Since Jareth never touched the parchment, the spell designed to incinerate the writ had not activated.

"Since you brought this to me, I assume you have some information you wish to share with me."

Eorlth sent a conspiratorial smile in her direction, "I do indeed. Why, just this morning I received a letter from our esteemed mutual acquaintance complaining about an unwanted guest."

Interest piqued, Caoilfhinn questioned further, "Unwanted guest?"

"Yes, and from his phrasing, it seems it is a human female."

Caoilfhinn, smiled delightedly and nearly clapped her hands in childish excitement - she was still amongst her court and they talked enough as it were -. "Is she still there?" She asked her excitement growing until she could barely restrain herself from leaping from her seat.

"She is – your highness, are you intending to visit now?"

Caoilfhinn ignored him, already absorbed in her plans, and imperiously grabbed her captain of the guard by the wrist and with a spell teleported them from the throne room.

Bemused, Eorlth looked at the illusion the Empress had left behind appraisingly. Well, he thought, it's not as if those dullards would notice that the real Empress had already left; they all really just came to complain. To keep up appearances he gave a low bow and sedately took his leave.

Dreydon prepared for bed that night in good spirits. News spread quickly in the House of Great Awakening, faster even than within the Imperial Palace. The news this day was the best that he, Dreydon, had heard in eight years. The Goblin King had taken a mortal woman, the one who had done the unthinkable and conquered the Labyrinth. In doing so, the Goblin King had set in motion a string of events that would undoubtedly prove both his and the girl's downfall. Yes, Dreydon thought, tonight his dreams would be exquisite.

Jareth leaned forward to gently rest his head against the desk. Eorlth demanded a weekly letter, Hecate knew why, and this week only one notable thing had happened, something that Jareth hardly wanted the rest of the Court to feed into the gossip mill. With another sigh, he began his missive to his sole friend in court . . . with the exception of the Empress. That thought caused another shudder down Jareth's spine. The pesky girl had long since given up on writs, but if she arrived unannounced and found Sarah?

Everyone would know.

Jareth berated himself. The Empress had a bit of a brain, and it showed in her innovative uses of magic. Caoilfhinn would likely keep the information to herself, but that was still one person more than Jareth wanted to know about Sarah's position.

Once again, Jareth inked his quill and began the most roundabout and unspecific letter he had ever written. He had to mention that he had an unwanted guest, for a visit from Eorlth would quickly show that, and Jareth also had to state that he'd been called to the mortal world, for the Empress would have been able to easily find that out. Whatever else Jareth included were mere fragments of information, most utterly mundane, like the fact that the bogging had been plentiful this week. Nothing to give clue to the truth of what had happened within the Labyrinth this week. Nothing to tell what Sarah had done to the entire castle.

Then there was the task of bespelling his correspondence so that only the intended reader would see the words he had written. It was a complex spell, but one Jareth was quite familiar with. The second spell to send it to Eorlth was much simpler, even as distracted as Jareth was.

Jareth leaned back in his study chair, ignoring the many scraps of paper that were indicatory of things that must be thought over and decreed by only one – the Goblin King. A much more important matter weighed on his mind. If he were to be successful, no one could know about Sarah, least of all the girl herself. That would invite disaster. But Sarah was no idiot. She would have questions, and if they were not answered, she would figure them out for herself. Thus the quandary posed itself: how was Jareth to keep Sarah occupied as well as ignorant? Her voracity for learning had showed itself Aboveground, and the influence of the Labyrinth would likely only increase it. Maybe some goblin authored histories? No one could make hide nor hair of those.

As Jareth thought about it, even the goblin histories might provide too much information to his precious acquisition. He had already tried locking Sarah away in her room, and that had worked just as well as putting her in the oubliette. Perhaps lessons? Dancing and fencing would both prove useful in the future, with the added benefit of being taxing on both mind and body. Yes, that idea showed some potential. Add in some etiquette lessons so the infuriating little creature would learn to speak in turn. It was a glorious plan, glorious indeed.

Jareth did not notice when he nodded off, and was grateful upon waking that it had been only for a handful of minutes. He really ought not have stayed up as late as he had last night, Jareth thought. There was once a time that exhaustion would never have gotten the better of him, but that time had not been when he slept less than four hours a night. Twenty-two hours of wakefulness did awful things to one's state of mind.

Jareth finally turned to deal with the obscene amount of paperwork that came from running a Kingdom, even one as self-sufficient as the Labyrinth. He shortly entertained the idea of employing a scribe, as he had many times over the centuries. However, his reasons for not doing so remained the same. Jareth trusted so few, and none of them were of the appropriate class to hire for such work. That and he'd be forced to have the castle swept more often.

The pattering of tiny feet outside his door sent Jareth's ears quivering. Those feet were too small to be Sarah's, thank both Oberon and Hecate. However, they seemed to be both multiplying and coming closer. What in the world? Tiny hands seized Jareth, upturning his armchair and scattering papers across the floor. "Unhand me at once!"

Chapter Text

Sarah was fed up.

She had seen no sign of the Goblin King anywhere within the castle walls, and she had looked everywhere. Asking Mizra had been a futile effort, as the little goblin maid seemingly either cared little about the whereabouts of her master or had been ordered in to secrecy. From what Sarah could tell, it was the latter, but it was a difficult observation.

Utterly frustrated, she turned on her heel and strode through the dark hallways and made her way to the throne room for what seemed the umpteenth time. Maybe she would get lucky and catch him sulking. There was too little that matched with what she knew, Sarah fumed. She knew there was a babysitting room, which was the room Toby had been taken too, and she had thought she'd known where it was. She had been proven wrong when she had opened the door and instead found a study. One of many it seemed, since she had stumbled upon multiple studies. What did Jareth do? Play musical study rooms? It seemed the castle shifted and moved, making whatever knowledge she had accumulated upon her prior visit utterly useless, and it was making her irritated.

Flinging open the large doors, Sarah let out a groan. The room was empty. Annoyed and furious she walked over to the steps of the dais and gracelessly plopped down, face hidden in her hands as she internally screamed in frustration.

Taking a moment to calm herself, Sarah smoothed down her hair and straightened the clothes that she had convinced Mizra to allow her to wear yet again. Feeling more at ease, though by no means was the anger forgotten, she looked around the room aimlessly as she pondered what next she should do.

She wouldn't find the Goblin King here, not like this in any case. Maybe she should explore the study she had found, read a little. She couldn't imagine that a castle of this size would lack for a library. Wait…a library? Sarah sat up abruptly from where she had slouched over her knees. Words she realized. Here in the Labyrinth, words, sentences, w-i-s-h-e-s, they all had power. She had power. Got you, Sarah thought with a grim smile. Standing, she stared forward, eyes hard, and for the first time in eight years made a wish.

"I wish the goblins would bring the Goblin King, right here to this throne room." She said, the words ringing like clarion bells in the silence of the room. Nothing happened for several minutes, and Sarah felt her confidence begin to deflate when she heard a shout behind her and turned just in time to see Jareth deposited unceremoniously upon the throne by a throng of goblins.

"How dare you treat me like this, you little cretins? I'll have you thrown into the bog of eternal stench if you do not get your grimy hands off of me." Jareth snarled as the goblins backed away, their little faces nervous but determined.

"We was just following your orders, highness!" one of them squeaked out, "You's sayin' to obey Sarah's wishes."

"I know what I said you impudent…" Jareth's voice abruptly trailed off as he realized Sarah's presence. Smoothly switched tactics, he banished the goblins with a wave of his hands, "Hello Sarah."

She crossed her arms and looked at him.

"Goblin king."

Jareth hid a grimace, "Goblin king, Goblin king, it's always Goblin king with you." He muttered, "All you had to do was call my name if you wanted to see me so badly. Is that so difficult? Was all this pomp and circumstance entirely necessary?"

Ignoring his sulking, Sarah fixed her glare upon his face, "You've been avoiding me."

"Avoiding you?" Jareth looked the appropriate amount of surprise her statement warranted, which is to say, very little at all, "Now why would I do something like that, when you're finally here in my grasp?" Jareth gave a flippant wave of his hand, "Avoid you? Nonsense, I imagine you lost yourself in the castle."

"No, none of the rooms are what I remember," Sarah told him, irritated at his obfuscations, "Nothing is where it should be."

"Well, it is quite large and childhood memories can become blurred." Jareth informed her with a self-satisfied smile plastered on his face.

Sarah wanted to just go up there and rip that smirk right off his arrogant face. "If so, then why haven't I seen you even at supper?" She demanded. "And I know for a fact that it's not just the castle," she retorted, "I went to the Labyrinth. It's changed, it's become entirely different!"

Jareth's face suddenly paled, "You went into the Labyrinth?" He asked suddenly, voice angry and, if Sarah didn't know any better, somewhat panic stricken.

"Why, is there a problem with me going into the Labyrinth?" Sarah shot back, voice frustrated. There was something he wasn't telling her, and she had a feeling that it involved her. She refused to let it go, and he was just like she remembered; infuriating and utterly unhelpful! "What's going on? You owe me an explanation!"

At that Jareth's face darkened, "There you go with your childish sense of entitlement again, Sarah. It seems you haven't grown up as much as you thought." He sneered back at her, whatever emotions he'd shown before locked down tight.

Sarah's arms dropped to her sides, hands tightly fisted as she seethed. Childish? She was going to go up there and show him childish. Go up there and wipe that smarmy little—

"Jareth!"

Only to be blocked by a flurry of gossamer fabric and the sweet scent of spring.

"You're a terrible uncle, you know that? Why didn't you tell me you had a visitor?" Empress Caoilfhinn asked him, her eyes were wide and excited as if she had not just made a surprise appearance in Jareth's throne room.

Jareth, if possible, turned deathly pale, "You, cannot be here. It's impossible. An illusion. You are supposed to be trapped within so much political drivel that you wouldn't have time to come and disturb me."

Caoilfhinn hid a smirk. Clearly a certain Sidhe had been keeping Jareth well informed. She'd have to have words with him about that when she got back, she noted to herself. It wouldn't do for Jareth to know everything that was going on without putting some effort into it himself. Although, if he could, Caoilfhinn imagined that Jareth wouldn't even have used Eorlth if it weren't necessary. Apparently, and Caoilfhinn found this highly entertaining, using his crystals to scry on the palace was prohibited. Magically prohibited. Caoilfhinn vaguely remembered her mother telling her about some sort of incident involving Jareth, magic, and a exploding tower…..In any case…..She had a panicked fae to talk to.

"Oh nonsense, I always have enough time to –" pausing, Caoilfhinn frowned momentarily and looked at him, assessing, "Did I interrupt something?" Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw a flurry of motion and the sound of pattering feet but when she turned to look behind her, there was a distinct lack of anybody there. She turned to look at Jareth questioningly.

Jareth merely dropped his head into his hands, and behind clenched teeth managed to grate out, "No, nothing."

Not quite believing him, but willing to go along with it, Caoilfhinn demanded, "Well then, tell me all about her!"

Jareth mumbled out some sort of appeasing statement, meant to be far from informative.

"Uncle Jareth, you know I can hardly understand you when you grumble so." Caoilfhinn grinned, conjuring up a plush armchair next to Jareth's throne. "Come, sit down and tell me about this mortal woman you have closeted away."

Jareth stalked over and perched, not entirely gracefully, on his very cushioned throne. Caoilfhinn rather envied him. "Why do I tell Eorlth anything?"

Caoilfhinn's grin turned into a smirk. "Because he has the best intelligence in the court. This is a mere pittance for what he gives you. Of course, you could forego the letters and simply attend court yourself." It was an argument they had nearly every time Caoilfhinn visited the Labyrinth, and Caoilfhinn rather thought they would continue to do so. What few times Jareth had gone to court during his reign had been at Caoilfhinn's insistence, and only at his leisure.

"Why would I ever want to do something so droll?"

"Because you miss me. Because you might actually find the Queen of the Labyrinth if you left it once in a while. Anyway, what do you find so fascinating about this mortal of thine?" Caoilfhinn's words held a tint of bitterness to them.

Jareth frowned at the persistent little Empress. Sometimes it was easy to forget that she was merely an adolescent as Sidhe counted time. "She was the one to triumph over the Labyrinth."

Caoilfhinn's mouth gaped open. "You jest."

Jareth's head fell into his hands. "If only."

Caoilfhinn slid forward in her chair. "What do you plan to do with her?" Jareth shook his head, muttering his lack of suggestions. He had absolutely no idea what to do with Sarah. "I know! You should bring her to Court. With such a spectacle, they might even forget about marrying me off."

Jareth scoffed. "That is the worst idea in a long history of . . . did you say marry?" Jareth's eyes were now wide and focused entirely on Caoilfhinn. "What is going on in Court these days?"

Caoilfhinn smiled. "I rather thought that might command your attention."

Jareth glitter-poofed his correspondence with Eorlth into his lap. "Why hasn't the dunderhead said anything about this?"

"There are six, one from each of the opposing Houses who think they have a chance." Caoilfhinn sighed. "They're all three to four centuries older than I." Every one was as boring as the last, and Caoilfhinn would rather die than wed any of them.

Jareth growled. "There is no word of this in Eorlth's letters!" Of all the things to not write him about . . . Eorlth was going to receive a piece of Jareth's mind.

Caoilfhinn shrugged. "Liz and I have been trying to keep it quiet, hoping that they would not bring it to a vote. So you would be willing to bring the girl to Court?"

"Hardly. However, I may need to make an appearance." Jareth vanished the papers that were now scattered across his throne room.

"To put the fear of the Labyrinth in them." Caoilfhinn's expression took on a mockingly serious look. "All they would need to see is your hair. Seriously, do you let your goblins pull on it?"

A great wind blew through the castle, accompanied by much glitter. It hurled the majestic doors shut and toppled Caoilfhinn's armchair, which made the Empress rather glad she had been on the edge of it, where jumping away was easily accomplished. A flick of her wrist righted her seat, and Caoilfhinn glared at her Uncle for his unseemly behavior.

Liz waited patiently until Caoilfhinn and Jareth were engrossed enough in their discussion that her leave taking remained unnoticed. Of course, few people ever noticed her anyway, even when they knew her to be present. The odds of Jareth letting the Empress into the castle to find the mortal were slim, but Liz had always been less conspicuous than the fiery-haired Caoilfhinn. Not that Liz had been ordered to find the human woman, but if Jareth was hiding the mortal from the rest of court, Liz wanted to meet her. Knowing the castle well, Liz found a corridor just out of hearing range from the throne room and whispered, "I would really love to meet the mortal." When one was not master of the Labyrinth, it was better to leave an open-ended question than to demand with a wish.

Liz smiled as she felt the halls rearrange themselves, and a chorus of goblins cheering sounded from not too far away. The roar was accompanied by squeaks of outrage from a humanoid mouth and the clucks of chickens. Eyes widening in horror at what she knew she would find, Liz went racing toward the tumult. She arrived just in time to stop the chicken race. "HEY!" Liz bellowed, catching the attention of as many goblins as she could. "If you don't let her go, I'll tell Uncle Jareth you've been racing chickens. Again." Could the goblins not remember what had happened last time chicken racing was popular?

One small goblin piped up. "But Sarah,"

"Does not sound as if she appreciates the first-rate view." Liz interrupted. The woman in question, Sarah, was tied to four chickens, and looked extremely uncomfortable. "I'm to take the Lady to the gardens."

There were moans and booing, but the goblins knew that Jareth would bog anyone who did not listen to the aggressive girl currently glaring at them. Sarah was loosed and assisted to her feet, where Liz led her swiftly away from the games. Where Sarah was petite, with the slenderness usual among actresses and dancers, Liz was tall with an extremely athletic build. Sarah stared in wonder at Liz, the first human-like creature she'd seen in the Labyrinth besides Jareth, and after nodding her thanks, questioned, "Uncle Jareth?"

Liz smiled. "Not by blood, of course." She lifted her copious blond curls to show a jewel-less ear, a motion that was lost on Sarah. "I suppose you are the mortal he has sequestered away?"

Sarah nodded. "Did you come with the other one who was calling him uncle?"

Liz smiled. "Yes, that would be Empress Caoilfhinn." They turned another bend and descended a long set of stairs, but Liz's words had Sarah hanging slightly back.

Sarah stared at the back of her odd savior's head, nearly tripping. "Oh, just the Empress?" Sarah's voice was weak.

Liz turned around suddenly, eyebrow raised at her companion's odd behavior. Was this how all mortals new to the Underground acted? "Yes, Empress Caoilfhinn decided she had urgent business with our Uncle Jareth. He is rather dear to us. So, how has Jareth been treating you?" Lizabeth felt actual concern for the poor mortal. If she was so ignorant, Jareth had to be doing something wrong.

Sarah, still a little put off by having the Goblin King called 'uncle' and extremely disconcerted by the blonde Amazon's casual manner around royalty, shrugged. "He's been doing his best to avoid me. The room and food are lovely, but I can never find him."

Liz smirked, remembering the many times Jareth had done the same to she and Caoilfhinn. "He does that to all of us. It's his favorite coping tactic. Oh, that's moved." Sarah and Liz had just stumbled into the Escher room. "A little annoying when that happens." Liz took a quick glance at the many exits before setting her course. If Jareth was attempting to avoid Sarah, she must have a strong mind.

Sarah stood, looking at the large and familiar room. So the Labyrinth did change. Realizing suddenly how well her mysterious companion knew the Labyrinth, Sarah's eyes snapped back to Liz in serious caution. "Who are you?"

Liz turned and smiled, amused at having predicted Sarah's nature. "I am Lizabeth, Captain of the Imperial Guard. But I suppose you wish more information than just that."

Sarah nodded. "Yes, like why you keep referring to the Goblin King as your Uncle."

Lizabeth considered carefully before answering. "That is a story that had its beginning well over a century ago. Caoilfhinn's mother, Empress at the time, trusted only one in her court, Jareth. Jareth has always hated court intrigue, so it made some sense. When Caoilfhinn was born, the Empress made sure that she spent as much time here in the Labyrinth as she did with the Court. As such, Caoilfhinn regards Jareth as a sort of favorite uncle. When her mother passed, the Regents allowed her free reign to move about as she wished. On one visit here, she claimed me from Jareth, and did rather the same thing her mother had. It simply became habit to call him Uncle Jareth. Ah, here's the staircase. So, how did you come to be here?" Lizabeth shut her mouth and waited patiently for Sarah to answer her most important question.

Sarah shrugged, biting at her lip. "A few years ago I defeated the Labyrinth, and just recently I was wished away."

Liz's expression suddenly lost all its mischievousness as she realized whom she was talking to. "You're that mortal? No wonder Uncle Jareth wants to keep you here." She turned away, walking purposefully through the Escher room, glad that today's Court activities had not been formal enough to require a dress. Jareth had gotten his hands on the first mortal to defeat him in over a decade. Somehow, this news did not increase Liz's worry for the girl.

Sarah ran after Liz, hoping to keep up. "Wait! What does that mean? Am I going to get turned into a goblin?"

Liz coughed, hoping to keep her amusement contained. "Only one mortal has beaten the Labyrinth in the time you speak of. Where would you get an idea as absurd as Uncle Jareth turning you into a goblin?"

Sarah blushed. "Um, well, when he stole Toby, he said I had thirteen hours before Toby became 'one of us'. I assumed." Sarah became increasingly flustered at the number of assumptions she had found to be wrong since her arrival.

Liz shook her head. "I have lived here for the twenty years since I my birth, and I still cannot assume any single thing. No, 'us' refers to the Sidhe."

Sarah's mouth gaped open in understanding. "So the Underground is just part of Fairy land?" That would explain why Jareth seemed to have stayed the same these last eight years, as well as Liz's showing of her ear when explaining her relationship to Jareth. Only now did Sarah recall that Liz's ear had been round.

Opening the last door that stood between them and the outside, Liz ushered Sarah into the courtyard. "Faewilde," she corrected. "Yes, the Underground is part of the Seelie court as ruled by Caoilfhinn." Jareth really had taught Sarah nothing, Liz thought. That was something they would have to remedy.

Sarah sat down on the first available sun warmed bench before continuing her questions, glad to have someone who finally answered them freely. Ish. However, the revelation that this was the realm of the Sidhe answered a great deal of her initial wonderings. There were many myths about immortals, and what applied where varied between them. The Sidhe, however, had some very set rules, and Sarah was sure now that if she could find a library she would learn of all that she needed to know. There was already one thing different from conventional myth, and that was the Empress that the two mortals could hear Jareth arguing with from within the castle. Myth said King Oberon ruled the Seelie, which was obviously not the case. Sarah wondered what else might be different in reality.

The conversation was ended when a resounding boom echoed through the open windows of the castle, carrying glitter with the soundwaves. Liz shuddered. "That would be my cue to go check on the Empress. If you ever need someone to talk to, call my name and I'll try to get Caoilfhinn to visit Uncle Jareth."

Sarah remained on the bench while Liz ran into the castle. Sarah tried to cover her snigger at the screamed, "That was entirely UNNECESSARY! I was simply . . . Liz! Thank Hecate you're here. Could you talk some sense into our uncle?"

Hoggle appeared seemingly out of nowhere, causing Sarah to jump. "Is the Valkyrie gone?"

Sarah furrowed her brow in confusion. "Who?"

Hoggle leaned closer. "The Captain of the Imperial Guard, the Valkyrie. Chooser of the Slain?"

Sarah's heart stopped, remembering the two blades slung casually on Liz's hips. Her thoughts had barely touched on that, being used to costumes and entirely absorbed in the new information. "You're talking about Lizabeth?"

"Yeah. She always remembers my name," Hoggle grumbled. "She's near as frightening as Jareth."

"But she seemed nice," Sarah thought aloud. Indeed, Liz had been the closest thing to amiable that Sarah had met in her new sojourn in the Labyrinth.

Hoggle shuddered. "You ain't seen her using that sword. Cold Iron, it is."

Sarah nodded, remembering the effect iron and steel had on the Sidhe. "And the knife?"

Hoggle frowned. "Ceramic, like most of the Sidhe carry. Just as scary, though."

Sarah smiled, leaning forward. "But Hoggle, she remembers your name. Maybe she wants to be your friend." It seemed congruous with Liz's actions.

"The Valkyrie doesn't have friends . . . Oh." Sarah nodded at Hoggle's realization. "Well, she still scares me, and I've always been a coward."

Sarah sighed. "Well, I bet Didymus would be her friend."

Hoggle laughed. "Didymus practically worships her."

Sarah smiled. "I like her too, actually. I think you would as well if you gave her a chance."

Chapter Text

Sarah waited outside for quite a while, digesting the information that, between Lizabeth and Hoggle, was quite overwhelming. She was living in a castle with an elf. Not that Sarah had ever thought Jareth was mortal, but somehow that had never come up in her contemplations concerning him. Not only an elf, but the Sidhe Empress's and her crazy bodyguard's favorite uncle. Sarah thought that would be a bit much for anyone, especially one as new to the Underground – the Faewilde – as she. While many of her questions had been answered, Sarah knew there were still a few that only Jareth could satisfy her curiosity about. Finally, Sarah went into the castle. Surely Jareth could not evade her too long.

It took Sarah three days to become impatient enough to seek the Goblin King, Jareth she corrected, out again. He had gone back to his avoidance tactics, as if that would affect Sarah's existence at all. However, Sarah did not spend these days idle. The first was spent on another foray into the Labyrinth – another failure on Sarah's part, but one where she learned a good deal. Sarah had packed up half of her breakfast to carry with her, but the moment she was beyond the hedges surrounding the innermost gardens everything had gone awry.

Though Sarah had made no attempt to go directly toward the edge of the Labyrinth, instead always taking a path that seemed to run in an illogical direction, her way was still barred in the most ludicrous ways, most often with a forest. If Sarah had thought getting into the Labyrinth difficult, getting out was many times worse. The sun, or whatever lit the sky of the Faewilde, was beginning its descent when Sarah once again gave up and headed back to the castle. It seemed she had more to learn before her escape could be successful.

New doubts arose with her newly informed state, though. At least there was something beyond the Labyrinth to get to, but Sarah knew that the idea of running into more immortals like Jareth would be less than fun. Who knew, they might turn her back over to him. The Empress did call him 'Uncle Jareth'. That was not a positive indication that escape would be easy, even if Sarah ever managed to exit the Labyrinth. Angry, and far from ready to give up, Sarah realized that she needed a great deal more preparation if she were ever to get away.

Once Sarah had figured out the secret to the castle, it was a small matter to find the Goblin . . . Jareth's indubitably gorgeous library. The histories of the Labyrinth now rested beside her bed. She had been surprised to find that the Sidhe's interference in the mortal world went back, not only into the Druidic era, but all the way to the reign of Ancient Greece. There were even some mentions of Ancient Egypt in the older texts. Likely Jareth would have a fit when he found out how much Sarah had raided his library, but Sarah thought it well worth the risk.

However, the questions still nagged at Sarah, and were exacerbated by each new one she added to her growing hoard with every chapter she read. It certainly put Greek and Celtic mythology in perspective, but it also made Sarah wonder about the purpose of the Labyrinth and its Goblin King. Sarah could not imagine, not in a million years, that the Goblin King would ever act subordinate to anyone, much less an Empress that had looked even younger than Sarah. Every notion cleared created a new one that refused to be put to rest. It was under these circumstances that Sarah left her room, having finally been forced by the goblin maid, Mizra, into some dress-like object that had somehow worked its way inter her wardrobe. Sarah suspected foul play.

No matter her pleas, the castle refused to direct Sarah to its owner. Where before it had always generously acquiesced to her desires, it now gave her very few doors and places with which to go. Sarah was about to give up and wish again when something that sounded terrifyingly like thunder began. Only when the goblins came around the corner did Sarah realize that she was about to be trampled in their stampede. Amazingly they parted around Sarah, squealing and chattering happily. Sarah stared after them with a raised eyebrow when one tiny straggler came around the corner. Before it could zoom past her, Sarah snatched the goblin by the neck of its shirt and held it midair, where it attempted to continue to run. "Where are you going?"

"Gotta help the King, gotta help the King," the little goblin chanted, an enormous grin splitting its face. "King needs goblins."

Sarah frowned. "May I come with you?"

The goblin suddenly stopped. "Why youse do that?"

Sarah thought quickly, going through a list of bribes she could use to distract the goblin. "If you take me with you, I'll let you have three cookies."

The goblin's eyes went wide. "COOKIES? Come, hurry fast, gotta help the King." Sarah let the goblin down and followed its frantic scurrying. The trip was shorter than she imagined, bringing her into a garishly painted room before Sarah had even registered that they had come to a more familiar part of the castle.

The high ceilinged hall, Sarah supposed it was the babysitting room, was painted the most obnoxiously lurid pink that humanity could contrive. As she entered the room another goblin trotted by on the back of a stuffed unicorn, completing the disturbing picture. Jareth stood in the middle of the room with a baby in his arms – female from the baby pink jumper. "I liked this room better before," Sarah remarked quietly, watching how tenderly Jareth handled the babe.

Jareth looked up in startlement, gaze scouring the room for Sarah as the pink faded away into sandstone and granite. "Now is really not the best time for this, Sarah." Of all the times for his personal nuisance to show up, it had to be while he was fulfilling his duty.

Sarah remained were she was, forcing herself to avoid twirling her hair nervously. Jareth looked so . . . melancholy. It was nothing like what she was used to. "She's a quiet baby."

Jareth nodded hesitantly. "Her mother is a young unwed girl, barely old enough to be capable of having children. Young enough that she could find the words."

Sarah moved forward slowly to take the baby from Jareth's arms. "How old?"

Jareth shrugged. "Less than a decade and a half. She was angry to be kept away from her friends."

Sarah looked at the baby's big, blue eyes. Though she would never tell Jareth this, having had to run the Labyrinth herself, sometimes the things he did were right. This child deserved more than a single, teenaged mother who was angry about her plight. "Why is she in the Labyrinth then?"

Jareth shook his head. "Not in yet." The child was still scouring the outer wall for the gate. "A sense of guilt, I would guess. She will likely give up quickly, after having put in a token effort."

A goblin stole the baby away from Sarah and took it over to the pit in the center of the room where more goblins waited to entertain it. Sarah grudgingly let her go, watching the caretakers carefully. Lizabeth had explained that Sidhe adopted the babies after Sarah's false expectations had been voiced, so Sarah knew the likely fate of the young thing now surrounded by giggling goblins. "And it was so blindingly pink in here because?"

Jareth turned to Sarah, an eyebrow raised high. "The Labyrinth conforms to expectations, within a certain limit. Apparently the girl expected me to live in a five year old's play room. Personally, I was appalled by her taste."

Sarah snickered at the thought of Jareth standing in front of a princess style bed, holding his leather-ensconced hands on his hips. "Why did it take you so long to fix the décor?"

Jareth waved a single gloved hand. "I was busy with the child, Sarah, and I am rather used to the awful things you mortals like to torture me with." Better not to let her know the truth. It would likely make Sarah even more insufferable than she already was. "I suggest you stay in the castle for the next thirteen hours, Sarah. I saw that you found your way to the library. Perhaps you could run off there for the day."

Sarah's lips twitched up, and she moved further into the room. "I don't think so, Jareth. You said yourself she wouldn't be much trouble." Sarah sat down on an extremely convenient armchair chair that was next to his throne. "I think I'll wait with you a while. We have some things to talk about, Jareth."

Jareth leaned against his throne, looking more tired than Sarah had ever seen him. "You spoke with Lizabeth, I gather?" Though the thrice-damned mortal bodyguard managed to escape attention easily, Jareth knew her to be the only likely source for Sarah's newfound information.

Sarah nodded. "After the Empress interrupted us Liz saved me from the goblins' extracurricular activities." That was a mistake Sarah would never make again, as the goblins seemed to consider watching sports and participating the same thing. "She was actually quite nice."

Jareth closed his eyes to avoid the many telling emotions that they would betray to Sarah. Of course Lizabeth would hit it off with Sarah, both of them being incredibly stubborn mortals who had no problem mocking him. Honestly, he needed to stop letting Caoilfhinn distract him from the cunning imp. The two of them were by far the most effectively mischievous creatures he had ever had the pleasure of meeting, and if they added Sarah to their little gang it could spell disaster for him. "I suppose she let you in on all the secrets my world has to offer?" Just then the mortal babe started to mewl, and Jareth bent over take her from the goblins' hands.

Sarah snorted in an entirely undignified manner. "No, she just told me a few important things, like what happens with the children you steal."

Jareth took this phrasing badly, looking as affronted as he possibly could with an adorable baby in his arms playing with the ends of his hair, admittedly well suited to such activity. "I do not steal children. I merely take what is purposefully offered to me."

Sarah rolled her eyes, but acquiesced, knowing they would never finish the conversation otherwise. "I apologize, but that's not the matter. Jareth, Liz also told me I was the only one to beat the Labyrinth in quite a while. Is that why I am still here? Why I can't leave?"

Jareth's mouth twisted into a frown, and after a mutter about Liz's habits, he answered Sarah. "It is possible that may account for a portion of my decision." It was more a side effect of why he kept her, but Sarah did not need to know that.

"Then why do you keep hiding from me? You had no problem reminding me of your existence for years with gifts, and taunting me with that birthday cake the first night, or allowing me out into the rose gardens, and it would be so much more comfortable for the both of us if we came to an understanding." Sarah huffed. If they could just be open with each other, Sarah knew that the tense edge she felt now would go away and she could enjoy the Labyrinth.

Jareth attempted to not look astonished. What had the Labyrinth been doing behind his back? He had sent no gifts, but considering it was Sarah, he had no doubt they had arrived anyway. The birthday cake, the opening of portals into other parts of the Labyrinth. These were news to him, surprises he would rather not have heard about.

Jareth shifted the baby in his arms so that one of them was now free to gesture with. "An understanding? How quaint." He needed desperately to distract Sarah from her line of thought, before she started asking questions he did not want to answer. Luckily, blatantly arrogant behavior had always managed to do the trick.

Sarah flushed with anger, and only managed to keep her tone calm because of the child now cuddled against Jareth's shoulder. "I am going to go insane, Jareth. I have seen only four people since Lizabeth spoke with me, and while they may be my friends, they do not provide much of a barrier from lassitude. I'm sure you cannot be faring much better. Could we at least eat meals together like civilized people who live in the same house?"

Jareth sniffed disdainfully, attempting to quash a flash of triumph. "I suspect that could be arranged, as well as free reign of the castle if you vow to allow me my private wing."

Sarah's mouth gaped open in surprise. "You wi - I mean, thank you. I can manage that much courtesy." Lost for more words, and the rest of her concerns entirely forgotten in her victory, Sarah sat there dumbly as Jareth bounced the baby on his shoulder. A small pop and the sweet scent of spring heralded the arrival of a document in Jareth's free hand. There was a tense groan, and Jareth handed Sarah the baby girl. "What is that?"

Jareth hastily broke the seal – Imperial – and read through the missive. It was in the Caoilfhinn's swirled script, oddly reminiscent of his own, except with more flourishes. It was a small verse, only as long as politeness dictated, warning of the Empress's decision to visit him within the week. Jareth sighed. At least that meant she would not be interrupting her own activities to see him as she usually did. "It is a letter from Caoilfhinn, the Empress. She is arranging a formal visit to require that I allow her to meet you." Under his breath Jareth murmured, "That sly fox." With a little smile, Sarah settled the little girl against her chest and sat back in the armchair to wait out thirteen hours becoming familiar with the aggravated Sidhe beside her.

Sarah was beginning to regret asking Jareth to take meals with her. While, yes, it was more interesting than dining alone, Sarah was not entirely sure it was pleasurable. "Now, Liz is extremely loyal to Caoilfhinn, and I doubt there is a word you said that was not subsequently relayed to Caoilfhinn. As such, expect the Empress to know who you are. If she has retained anything I taught her, Caoilfhinn will also know how you came to be here and why you are here. She will likely have a few theories on why I have kept you rather than give you a duty within the High Court. They will likely be wrong . . ."

Blueberry jelly and lemon scones were the fare before them. Sarah was delighted that there was butter for them, as well as some herbal tea. She was unsure as to the leaves, but there was a definite hint of apples and lemons, along with the distinctive fruitiness of chamomile. All of this registered above the droning of a worried Jareth on Court manners. The idea was near laughable: Jareth giving Sarah a lecture on etiquette. From what Lizabeth had told her, Jareth flouted that etiquette every time we made the time to visit the High Court. Of course, despite his centuries, Jareth seemed to have a short attention span. That had to be murder when he was in Court proceedings.

Returning a little of her focus to Jareth's lecture, Sarah was just in time to hear, "Caoilfhinn is only an adolescent, so she may perform some unsightly antics," before her mind continued in wandering. She had finally opened one of Jareth's gifts this morning: the largest box, which had contained a dress. Though the subject seemed taboo, she wore it now and rather liked how it complimented Jareth's clothing while allowing Sarah her ease in practicality. Sarah had to admit, she had been loathe to try it on, despite the fact it inspired quite a bit of childish joy at the thought of dressing up. Mizra had made that decision for her, seeing the beautifully simple dress and forcing it over Sarah's head. Jareth had dressed less casually, as much as he was wont to, wearing tight, black pants instead of his slightly over-pronounced lighter colors. Jareth's speech came to a sudden halt, and Sarah realized he had asked a question of her.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Jareth raised a sardonic eyebrow. "You are healthy, Sarah?"

Sarah tilted her head questioningly, setting her slightly over-buttered scone back onto her plate. "As far as I know."

Jareth chuckled. "As I said whilst you were daydreaming," Jareth rather thought her distracted thoughts had been concerning his britches, and had to conceal a smirk at the idea. That was, after all, the reason he wore them. "Caoilfhinn may wish a Healer to look you over. It would reflect poorly on me if you were seriously ill."

It took a great deal of willpower to bite back a sarcastic retort, but Sarah did so because she felt it may have unintended consequences. "Well, that shouldn't be too much of a concern. When do you think the Empress will show up?"

Jareth snorted ungracefully. "As soon as she can possibly convince the court to let her free, which means any moment she feels would be appropriate after the top of the Hour of Birdsong, on the first day she can manage to do so."

Sarah stared blankly at Jareth. "The hour of what?" Of all the strange things, this was the most unfamiliar to her, and made the least sense.

Jareth sighed. "About ten in the morning, according to the large clock."

Sarah nodded. "Ten o'clock has a name?"

Jareth shook his head hopelessly. "All the hours have names, and all the important Houses at the High Court were named after an hour. It may help you when it comes time to remember the names of both." Rather than the days being longer, as Sarah had expected of the Labyrinth's twenty-six hour days, Sarah had noticed that the hours seemed to go faster, so that the ten o'clock hour felt more like a quarter past nine had Aboveground.

Jareth looked contemplative before casting another sidelong glance at Sarah, "But, I do not think she will appear for some while. You will have a little time to prepare yourself, for that insane little…" he muttered, voice trailing off. Realizing his faux pas, Jareth gave a slight cough before saying, "In any case, you most likely will have a few days before she will have some time free," as this, Jareth smirked, "I hear her last little escapade from the castle left quite a few things in disarray. It will take her some time to….clean things up." Sarah gave Jareth an odd look and then determinedly ignored him. He was, after all, apparently amusing himself by grinning widely at whatever thought had struck his mind.

Chapter Text

It was a slow morning, Sarah thought to herself as she looked out the window. Hoggle was… somewhere, probably harassing the fairies again, she thought, laughing quietly to herself, and Didymus was marching about with the guard. The sun was warm, and felt much like the one that was Aboveground. How did that work? Sarah wondered to herself drowsily, as she leaned against the wall as she sat in seat nestled against the window.

Aboveground… Sarah shot up, fully awake.

She hadn't thought about escaping for weeks, Sarah realized, she raised a hand to her mouth to muffle a gasp as she moved over to her bed to collapse down into a slump. Had she grown too complacent? She thought, her heart racing. She didn't really want to stay here, did she?

With the Empress' visit, meeting Liz, and learning more about the Underworld, Sarah realized that she had gradually forgotten escape in favor of her curiosity. Cursing silently, she abruptly stood up. Jareth was, most likely, still attempting to avoid her during the day. Although they had begun to take meals together – and why oh why had she asked for that? Loneliness she told herself determinedly, it was just because you were lonely – Jareth still went out of his way to avoid her for the most part. Probably because he was afraid she'd ask more questions.

And again, that itself was another reason to leave. The first being, she should leave before she became too wrapped up in the Underground to leave. If the Empress' interest was genuine, Sarah knew that if she stayed much longer she wouldn't be able to easily escape. The second reason being if she didn't, she was sure to become a first class example of Stockholm syndrome.

Discretely, Sarah made her way out of the castle and back through the rose gardens. The amount of foliage gave her a decent covering from any eyes, and she managed to make her way through the winding pathway to the borders of the Labyrinth where it edged into the castle grounds. Here, the Labyrinth seemed to be worn just a bit, the stone walls crumbling into a pile of rubble and the top edges of its sides ragged and worn with age. It was one of those edges of broken stone that Sarah grasped and, with one last look behind her, heaved herself up and over the wall using the ruins on the grounds as a launching pad.

"Okay," She breathed out a sigh of relief, brushing her hands off on her jeans, and straightened up to look around, "Now, where to go from here?"

The unfortunate thing was, as Sarah had discovered in her last foray through the Labyrinth, that the goblin king's domain had changed. Now, it seemed to shift and move based on whatever mood seemed to strike it. Dim, dark, and shadowed, the Labyrinth seemed even more daunting than it had when she had been a girl. Maybe she should have asked Hoggle for help, he certainly would know his way around, but she hadn't wanted to get him involved. He had gotten into so much trouble with Jareth the last time he had helped her.

Drawing on her courage, she faced forward, "Right, left, or center?" She murmured, looking the available paths. The castle, if what she remembered was correct, directly faced the entrance gate where she had met the worm, and the castle's front doors were…

"The left it is," she said.

The path went on for a very long time, and Sarah was beginning to feel trapped in an endless walk, until finally the dirt below her feet gave way to stone and mortar. Cobblestones? Sarah wondered. Making her way through the hedges the framed the opening Sarah found herself standing in a very familiar place.

Reassured that she was going the right way, Sarah immediately began to walk forward…and then froze. What had happened last time? She tried to remember, something about…drawing arrows and always going in a circle. Suspicious, Sarah walked forward into the area and drew a large arrow on the nearest stone beneath her feet with the lipstick that she always carried with her. Quickly moving back to the path she had come from, she ducked behind the hedge and looked through the leaves to watch.

After a few minutes, Sarah began to feel ridiculous when suddenly the stone moved, and a large spindly grime-covered hand covered in bumps pushed the stone up to reveal luminescent eyes that gazed every which way. The glowing orbs seemed to focus in on her hiding place.

Sarah ducked behind the bushes and willed her pounding heart to calm. Finally feeling as though her heart was back in her chest where it belonged, Sarah finally peered back around the corner. The stone was still lifted, but it seemed whatever was holding it had finally decided that nothing was there and it descended bringing the tile back down….in a different position than before, the arrow Sarah had drawn facing the wrong way.

"Okay," Sarah breathed, "I guess I'm not going through there."

Unfortunately, Sarah thought, this left her with fewer choices. Pushing her hair back from her forehead, she sighed and contemplated what to do next. Anxiously, she tapped her forefinger against her temple absently, the staccato beat somewhat distracting her irritation. She could either keep moving forward and hope she came across another opening, or perhaps turn back and try an alternate route.

Sarah took a hesitant step past the opening to continue in the direction she had been heading, when the stone she had drawn the arrow on began to make creaking noises and move. Muffling a startled squeak, Sarah jumped back behind the hedges, heart pounding. The moment she moved back, the movement seemed to settle then still. Okay, so going back it was.

Only, when she turned around, the way was cut off. Seemingly, in the several minutes she had spent attempting to decide what direction to go next a hedge had grown well above her head several feet to her right, making it impossible for her to turn back. Glancing back to the left, and unwilling to even try walking past the cobblestone entryway again, Sarah reluctantly went the only way left available to her. Forward.

Jareth turned away from three years worth of paperwork – most of them concerning the taxes on the Labyrinth – and gazed drowsily out the window. Jareth sighed in irritation as he realized his favorite pomegranate grove, one he was careful to not allow the Labyrinth to move, was missing from the beautiful landscape before his eyes. There, out in the distance, was the junction with the old man who wore a bird as a hat. If he looked even further, he might be able to see the wyrm's domain . . . but no, that section of the Labyrinth would be on the South side of the castle today.

Irritated, and now very distracted from the work he was supposed to be doing, Jareth considered ordering the Labyrinth to put the pomegranate trees back where they belonged. Mulling over this thought, Jareth realized that the Labyrinth would only have done something he disliked if it involved Sarah. Fear gripping him, Jareth conjured a few of his many crystal balls.

On a whim, Jareth sent the first one flying out the window. It would not harm anything, after all. Remembering his business, he raised an eyebrow at the remaining ones, hovering about his person. He reached delicately for his favorite, and had it scry out Sarah's whereabouts. It found her hiding behind a hedge, watching for the creature beneath the stones. Jareth shuddered; that particular denizen of the Labyrinth had always given him goose bumps, even as an adult. It was a watcher, a creature with many eyes and a gnarly hand. As far as Jareth knew, it had never caused any harm. It merely appeared distasteful. As much as Jareth would rather Sarah not go into the Labyrinth, the he rather thought that his home would not let her get into too much trouble.

With a little smile at Sarah's childish antics, Jareth returned to his paperwork. Ah, well, he would have to finish these papers eventually, and there was no better time now. He swore the only reason he was doing the paperwork was because it had been sitting on his desk so long . . . not because Sarah still had no idea where his personal study was. What was this? A form for taxation on chickens? How absurd . . .

"I feel like I'm being herded." Sarah muttered, as she looked at the endless walls of stone and hedge that had surrounded her for at least a half hour. Remembering what the worm had told her the first time she had visited the labyrinth inspiration struck. Making her way carefully over to the walls, Sarah picked up a stick from the ground and tentatively used it to glide along the walls as she walked past. Another long time passed, and just as she was growing frustrated, the stick went limppassed from hedge to air. Glancing over in surprise, Sarah gave it a tentative wiggle and poked it past branches.

Branches that, apparently, were a good several feet away from the end of the stick.

Elated, she quickly gave a cursory glance past the walls and turned left at the new path she had found. The path soon opened up to larger ground and Sarah could suddenly see the castle, more distant than she had ever seen it since she began her escape attempts. Excited, Sarah picked up her pace.

Suddenly, the Labyrinth began to make low creaking sounds. Sarah initially ignored them as she walked, the maze had been making odd noises the entire time she had spent looking for a way out, so she had brushed it off as something typical of the Labyrinth. However, this noise was a little different, as though the Labyrinth were irritated or, perhaps, making frustrated groans. Stopping to look behind her nervously, Sarah, in a moment of carelessness, forgot to watch her step and as she glanced back stepped into thin air.

An oubliette had opened directly beneath her feet. With a choked off gasp of surprise, she plunged into the yawning darkness.

Chapter Text

Sarah awoke to complete darkness. Eyes still closed, she gritted her teeth and took stock of herself. After wiggling her fingers and toes to confirm that nothing had been hurt, beyond a few bruises that were sure to be impressive, Sarah opened her eyes. She needn't have bothered, really, Sarah thought, it's not like she could see anything. Grimacing she rubbed at her shoulder, she must have landed on her side after she had passed out, she supposed. It was a miracle she didn't have a broken rib . . . or five.

I need to see, Sarah thought to herself, the last time Hoggle was here there was door…maybe there will be one here, but I need to be able to find it. Sighing, she said absently to herself, not knowing that she had voiced the thought, "I wish I could see the way out." The word was slowly creeping back into her vocabulary.

Feeling her way across the ground, Sarah collapsed against what she assumed to be the walls of the oubliette. Huddled against the packed earth against her back, she rested her arms on her knees, chin nestled in the crook of her elbow. Morosely, she pondered how to get out. She really should have talked to Hoggle about this, Sarah thought, if she had, maybe she wouldn't be in this predicament.

More time passed, and just as she felt herself begin to doze off, a sudden small shine caught her eye. Pressing back even further, Sarah eyed the speck suspiciously as it grew brighter. The light seeming to pulse and grow reluctantly as though unwilling to increase in brightness. The light was still fairly dim, however, and Sarah could just barely make out the glint of light on metal, the odd blobby shape was slowly revealed to be a metal doorknob.

Nearly stumbling in her haste to get to the door, Sarah reached out and opened the door. Only to find herself beneath a pile of kitchenware. Undeterred, she remembered this happening to Hoggle, Sarah closed the doorknob and tried again. This time, several heavy bags of chicken feed fell out onto her feet. Sarah tried again several times, only to be met with varying results. None of which, led out of the oubliette and back into the Labyrinth. Maybe, she thought, frustrated, it was about intent? Firmly she glared at the door,

"The Labyrinth," she said, and then opened the door.

This time, dirt spilled on top of her shoes from the unpaved path that began halfway up the door. She could see walls of hedge and stone! She would have to jump a bit, and squeeze through the narrow opening left between the dirt and the top of the doorway, but it was a way out. Reaching up, Sarah heaved herself up and over. She had to kick her legs a bit for momentum, but it took only a few minutes for her to climb out of the oubliette and back into the Labyrinth.

Dusting her hands off on her pants, Sarah looked up to see where the path led….only to see that not three feet from her did the path split, and directly in front of her was the confounded forest.

"Not again," she said, and took the path that led away from the forest.

What seemed like hours later, Sarah was beginning to feel fatigued and frustrated.

"What is with this forest?" She glared, huffing at the offending group of trees that insisted on always getting in her way. Grumbling, she turned back around, and tried taking the path opposite of what she had tried before…only to find herself back in front of the forest minutes later. Which shouldn't have been possible, since when she had first arrived, the only pathways had been the exit from the oubliette, the path to the forest, and the path away from the forest? Now, it seemed as though the oubliette had vanished and, instead, Sarah was now running in circles. Sarah was starting to think that she had no choice but to go through the forest itself.

"Well, nothing for it, I suppose," She finally said, and with a final dubious look walked determinedly into the undergrowth.

Sarah was starting to regret her decision to go through the forest. The trees were eerie, gnarled, bent, and shadowed. And the sounds in the forests sounded nothing like those of the Aboveground. She could hear hissing and the sounds of leaves crackling, but no matter the sound or how close or far it seemed Sarah never saw signs of another living thing. At other times, the forest was deathly quiet and there were no sounds at all.

The trees had begun to thin, Sarah realized. Not everywhere, but along the path she was walking the trees had seemed to be less dense. Curious, she continued forward at a slightly faster pace. It was almost too late when she heard the sounds of cackling laughter, but at the very last moment, managed to duck behind a wide old tree before she had stumbled into the small clearing. Looking tentatively around the gnarled trunk Sarah gasped.

It was the fireys.

These were…Sarah could scarcely believe her eyes. These were not the playful terrifying birds she had encountered upon her first visit to the Labyrinth. These were near monstrous creatures. They held a faint resemblance to the fireys that she had known. Though still colored, the red and yellow were faded, muted by grey tones and the feathers were scattered about the fireys' limbs, attached to thin grimy skin that looked as though it sloughing off, so that in places their bones showed through. The eyes were red, and the flesh sunken and oily in appearance. The cackling laughter was much the same, but it had a harder edge of madness, near hysteria, that raised the hairs at the back of her neck as she watched them dance about the clearing with their detached limbs.

Sarah backed away slowly, attempting to retreat silently. She felt a twig give way beneath her shoe and felt panic rise into her throat as it gave a sharp crack.

As one, all the dismembered heads of the fireys turned and pinned their gaze on Sarah. With a wild cackle and grinning with mouths full of razor sharp teeth, they whooped and gave chase. Sarah ran, her breath coming thick and fast out of her lungs as she scrambled for a way out of the Labyrinth.

It seemed as though the Labyrinth was attempting to aid her. She heard shrieks from behind her as the fireys fell afoul of pits, traps, and running into walls of bramble that had allowed her to past through. However, the Labyrinth was unable to deter them for long. The fireys blazed through the thickets, used their dismembered bodies to escape traps, and Sarah soon found herself trapped against a wall of stone.

"Hoggle! HOGGLE, where are you?" She called out, panicked, hoping that, like last time, Hoggle happened to be nearby and able to come to her rescue. No response was forthcoming, and Sarah scrambled back, pressing as far she could against the stone behind her, grasping about with her hand, she found foot holds, and turned to see the wall transformed into what looked like a rock-climbing wall from above ground.

Thanking her good luck, she began to climb. The fireys remained undaunted:

"She doesn't want to play?" One hissed.

"That's no good!" giggled another.

"It's against the rules!" was cackled in chorus.

"FOUL." Cackled the fourth head.

"AGAINST THE RULES! She must remove her head!"

"Or a leg!"

"OR AN ARM!"

"…OR BOTH AT ONCE!"

This last line was howled in her ear, and she felt herself being dragged down. Their clawed arms gripping at her jeans, pulling her to the ground, and their floating heads roiling with glee about her own head as they zoomed about snapping, sinister in their playfulness.

"It won't come off!"

"It won't come off?"

"…PULL HARDER!"

In desperation she screamed out the one name she had sworn to never utter.

"Jareth. JARETH!"

There was an explosive swirl of magic, and Sarah thought she heard pained screaming as she fell into unconsciousness.

A year's worth of paperwork later, Jareth's heart jumped into his throat as he took a moment to glance at his crystal. It was less than a moment later that he heard his name, carried to him by the Labyrinth. "Jareth. JARETH!"

Sarah was in trouble.

The idiot girl! Jareth forwent traveling himself, cutting out a few precious seconds, and used his magic to merely yank Sarah away from the Fireys and into his arms. The situation was far more dire than the last time he had used magic to transport Sarah, and so the journey was more strenuous on her, unused to complex magic as she was. Combined with the bruises that indicated a fall – likely into an oubliette – Jareth assumed that Sarah's current unconscious state was well warranted.

However, Jareth knew that the unconscious could still hear, and so this did not stall his intention to drum some sense into the woman in his arms.

Jareth yelling was the first thing Sarah registered as she came to. At first it sounded muffled, as though she was under water and drums were playing above the surface. Gradually the sounds grew more distinct and she began to be able to distinguish individual words.

"- told you to stay out of the Labyrinth. For once, could you do what you're told?"

Realizing that he was still holding her up, she pushed him away and yelled, "I would, if you would tell me what was going on!"

Jareth snarled at her, "I did. I told you the Labyrinth was dangerous. That you shouldn't go in. What do you do? You waltz right in there."

After the stress of fleeing, of worrying for her safety, the panic she had been through, Sarah couldn't take it anymore.

"You're impossible!" Furiously, dashing away the moisture that had begun to collect in her eyes she whirled around and stormed away. As soon as she was out of Jareth's sight, Sarah broke into a brisk run until she entered her room. Slamming the door shut behind her, Sarah flung herself onto the bed, and quietly cried.

When she finally looked up, the light from her window had grown dim, and it seemed the sun was setting. The call for dinner had yet to arrive, and Sarah supposed that Jareth had decided to leave her be for the night. Sarah brushed at her tear stained eyes with the back of her hand to remove any residual tears before drifting off into an exhausted, but restless, sleep.

The moon was shining, its light faintly glimmering through the window in her room when Sarah slowly rose from her slumber. As she became more aware, she felt a gentle hand brush at her hair from behind, a slow soft caress that moved a wayward strand from her face.

Jareth.

Stilling herself, as she had automatically began to stiffen in alarm, and feeling a chill at her back, her eyes were shadowed beneath her lids and Sarah knew that he was standing behind her.

"Sarah, I just want you to be safe." Jareth whispered, his voice so low she barely caught the words. He sounded almost… pained. Sarah's eyes snapped open in shock, and she turned around, whether to confront him or throw him out she did not know, the heavy coverlets tangling about her legs. Only to be met with the fluttering of the drapes in a soft breeze and the dark emptiness of her room.

Chapter Text

Sarah met the first rays of dawn the next morning with weary consternation. She desperately needed some time to herself, to figure this all out. She was so confused, so angry, and yet something within her resisted every time she thought of taking her frustrations out on Jareth. Something had changed, and the only one she had to help her understand it was her trusty journal. However, she was simply far too exhausted after her adventure the previous day, and so Sarah curled up in a ball and closed her eyes, letting her mind wander.

Sarah was not dreaming, for she could hear the strange morning sounds of the Labyrinth and readily recognized them. However, that did not stop images from flashing before her eyes in a loosely connected manner. Jareth, eight years ago, smirking with all of his confidence as he meddled with time, costing her three precious hours. He passed before her again, whirling about with her in an elegant ballroom full of masked courtiers. His smile was not quite so arrogant, but Sarah hardly noticed. His triumphant smile when he appeared in her bathroom. His panicked . . .

Panic? Worry? Sarah's eyes blinked open suddenly. Jareth was, genuinely it would seem, concerned for her safety. Shuddering at the implications, Sarah pulled her knees up to her chest, mind working furiously away at the puzzle before her. She had always seen Jareth's actions as nothing more than an egotistic attempt to play a game that would demean Sarah to a mere pawn. But those emotions, his tones and words, had not been feigned.

Maybe there had been some truth to the words she had rehearsed as a child. Not love, Sarah thought, but Jareth did care for her.

Suddenly grumpy, Sarah angrily got out of bed. Feelings or none, that did not excuse Jareth from his atrocious behavior!

It took Sarah nearly a week to warm back up to Jareth. Honestly, the nerve of him, yelling at her while she was unconscious! And he had never really said that the Labyrinth was dangerous. He had merely started obfuscating the moment Sarah had recognized any form of emotion in him. The prat was always so pretentious.

And apparently worried for her. She was still wrapping her mind around that concept.

In the end, that was what gave Sarah the ability to go back to eating meals with Jareth. As misguided as his efforts were, they were on her behalf. It was a little like dealing with a small child. No matter how much he cared, Jareth still could not help but do stupid things. At least, that was what Sarah told herself to keep from throttling him. After a day or two of quiet meals, Sarah decided that she had, albeit reluctantly, forgiven Jareth.

That moment was when Sarah realized that she had succumbed to the Labyrinth's insanity, and that undoubtedly any life Aboveground would be lacking when compared to a life Underground.

Jareth frowned down at the letter in his hand thoughtfully. If what was written was true, which undoubtedly it was, since his correspondent did have the best insight into court politics, then the Empress' coming century-day party was bound to be of the interesting variety. Tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the page, Jareth's eyes were saved from becoming pretzel shaped only due to his magic, just what kind of charm was Eorlth using anyway? A thought struck him.

Smirking to himself, Jareth went in search of a certain mortal.

The mortal in question was currently sitting in the library she had found, perusing the shelves in hopes of finding something of interest that she could read. But if what she had been finding was any indication, she would most likely she'd end up with another goblin history. One was lovely, two was nice, three was bordering on absurd, and any more than that was just ridiculous, she thought grumpily.

"Sarah,"

The sudden sound of his voice broke the stillness of the room, making her jump, and Sarah lost her footing on the short ladder that she had climbed. Embarrassed, Sarah quickly stood up from where she had landed. Cross, because it was obviously Jareth's fault for startling her, she gave him a short glare. More amused than anything, Jareth merely arched a brow at Sarah as he watched her brush off the dust that accumulated on her pants from her little trip to the floor.

"Did you want something?" Sarah asked irritably, she would not put it past him to actually have shown up just to make her do something ridiculous. Like falling off a stepladder.

"I did. Read this, and tell me what you think."

Glancing dubiously at the sheet of paper held out in his outstretched hand, Sarah took the paper suspiciously. '.Jareth,

'I hope this missive reaches you on a particularly fine day. If not, I am sure that this letter will soon find itself incinerated or, if fortunate, at the bottom of where so ever you dispose of unwanted things.'

Sarah felt her eyebrows rise. Really? What was Jareth trying to pull? Patience, she reminded herself. It seemed like a prank letter, and Sarah couldn't even fathom why he had given it to her. She shot him a look, and Jareth just continued to smirk and indicated for her to keep reading.

Perhaps the bog. I am assured that you spend much or two. Maybe even half an appearance. Really, one visit.of your time sending unwanted items, solve one problem. The matter is too into a bog.

Sarah blinked, and refused to let herself rub her eyes. She could feel the words slipping back and forth, the letters seemed to weave in front of her eyes, left then right, out of focus and back in. All the while either fading behind a secondary set of letters or returning to cover them. Was this what Jareth had wanted her to see?

But I digress, and I wouldn't want you to think, they are not just flutteringthat I spend all my time considering the state of my letter. me particularly As stated before I hope this reaches you in good humor. If not, I also fear for my messenger. I am quite fond of my owl. Ah yes, the happening. Ah, before you destroyreason for the letter. Well, to inform you that one of your cousins is getting married soon, a very distant cousin, I'm sure you'll have do believe that there may also beplenty of nothing to talk about. Also, Lord Erulcieru is giving me particularly nasty looks. I think he suspects me of stealing his lead, and they think that starting with the daughter, which I most certainly have not. His glare is a somewhat…deterring factor, I'm ashamed to admit.

Well, the sun is shining here over the lovely court of the Empress. I hope some of it reaches those little dark cornerswill most likely make you even less inclined of your dark and gloomy Labyrinth.

It was signed in a long looping signature. Sarah's head hurt too much to even try to decipher it, beyond a beautiful, curling 'E'. "Jareth, was there a reason to show this to me?" Sarah attempted to suppress the irritation in her voice. He was such a toddler!

Jareth took the letter back from her and flicked his gaze over the page briefly before looking over at her. Sarah could not quite place the look in his eyes. Then again, the massive headache that the letter had induced could be hindering her thought process.

"This," Jareth tapped the letter, "Is spelled. Technically, no one but I should be able to read it. It has a fairly high concealment spell laid down keyed to the magical aura of the recipient. Namely, me." Or the Labyrinth's aura, since its ruler was keyed into the magic of the Labyrinth itself. But Sarah didn't need to know that

"So why could I read it, then?" Sarah asked, gamely attempting to play along but really wanting Jareth to leave so she could find something for the stabbing pain between her eyes. Or a knife to return the favor. She knew he'd been up to something when he showed up.

"Why could you, indeed," Jareth murmured, giving her another indecipherable look before leaving silently.

Sarah had a feeling Jareth wasn't telling her something. From what she had seen, Jareth never did anything lightly, so he must have had a reason for having her read the missive. But what it was, she could not reason. The ache between her eyes distracted her then and, with a grimace, Sarah stumbled out of the library intent on making it to her room for a nap.

Jareth, however, was distracted by other thoughts. The Labyrinth, it seemed, had decided to stop being subtle. Instead of doing things to Sarah behind his back, it had started doing them right in front of his face. At least Sarah remained in the dark about it all, assuming as she did that the Labyrinth was a tool, and not the living ground that was mocking Jareth as much as it was blatantly attempting to get Sarah's attention. Jareth would wager that all of Sarah's attempts to escape had been entirely thwarted by the Labyrinth, because he had certainly had no hand in any of her escapades. In fact, more often than not he was saving the foolish girl instead of….

You, he thought to the Labyrinth scathingly, are a sly piece of work. The impression he got back was one of laughter.

Sarah was so preoccupied with making nice with Jareth that she nearly forgot about Caoilfhinn's impending visit. She and Jareth had settled back into a routine, one that Sarah particularly enjoyed. Now that she was no longer making plans or attempts for escape, nearly everything Sarah wanted or needed was easily found, even Jareth. The library she had taken to occupying had expanded slowly, incorporating a whole set of bookshelves on Faerie Plays, which had Sarah nearly dancing for joy. To her surprise, most of Shakespeare's works appeared there. Although, Sarah considered, she really oughtn't be. After all, with all the strange things that went on in those plays, some meddling Fae must have been cavorting about in his life.

Sarah had taken one of the plays, not Shakespeare, out into the rose garden for a good read on a particularly sunny day. Almost all days in the Labyrinth were sunny, but this one was especially warm and beautiful. Sarah felt lazy, like reading all day, and a thermos-like container of lemonade had been waiting for her by the library door. She had just started to recline on a marble bench when a goblin, Kibble, appeared out of seemingly nowhere. Sarah leapt to the other side of the bench, barely refraining from screeching. She was starting to get used to goblins appearing even more frequently than they had in her former life, but that did not change the fact that they could sneaky little buggers when Jareth told them to.

"King say Sarah come!" Kibble looked up at Sarah, a hopeful grin on his face. "Needs Sarah."

Taking a long breath and carefully considered Kibble's words, Sarah considered this suggestion. She would not call it a command, as that would make her entirely disposed to ignore it. "Was he angry?"

The tiny goblin snickered. "No! King wurries. Think Fire-lady here."

Sarah's mouth dropped open. Those little imps called the Empress Fire-lady? She wondered for a moment what Empress Caoilfhinn had done to warrant that when her brain suddenly comprehended Kibble's poor grammar. Caoilfhinn was here.

Chapter Text

Sarah shot up from the bench, play forgotten. Jareth would be immensely angry if she was late. As she ran, the castle opened up a little door, one that Sarah had not noticed before. However, she could see the hall adjacent to the throne room through the doorway, and threw herself through it. Sarah burst into the throne room, breathing heavily. Jareth was glanced up from the writ in his hand, taking in Sarah. "Oh, hello Sarah. Caoilfhinn just sent this." Jareth stopped and adjusted his stance, taking a better look at Sarah. "Are you alright?"

This was simply incorrigible. Sarah let out an angry scoff. "The goblin you sent said it was urgent."

Letting the hand with the writ drop, Jareth shook his head. "That was not what I-"

A pop, accompanied by the light scent of spring, from without the throne room interrupted Jareth. Moments later the large double doors swung open, revealing Sarah's first glance at the Empress of the Faewilde. Caoilfhinn was exceptionally beautiful, for someone who looked about sixteen, and her fire-toned hair was drawn away to showcase long, tapered ears.

"Good Morning Uncle Jareth! I escaped with a minimal entourage." With Caoilfhinn's bright smile that accompanied those words, Liz slipped into the room. "That usually requires leaving an illusion of myself behind."

Liz was dressed somewhat similarly to Jareth, but in green tones and a tunic, which made Sarah wonder if she wore men's clothes, or if that was the feminine version of the pants fashion. However, that was apparently not a suitable question in the presence of Empress Caoilfhinn, as Jareth saw where Sarah's questioning gaze went and shook his head. The next thing Sarah knew, Caoilfhinn was embracing Jareth emphatically before retreating quickly to a safe distance. Only now did Caoilfhinn allow them to see how harried she felt. "We truly need to speak, Uncle Jareth, after our business."

Liz raised an eyebrow and began unfolding her arms, only to receive a glare from Jareth. One hug from his 'nieces' was quite enough. Caoilfhinn shook out her skirts and turned to Sarah, her eyes widening once Sarah was within focus. "Athena déan tròaire." Caoilfhinn's startled gaze returned to Jareth. If her perception was correct, this would be the end to all her opposition at court. "She-"

Jareth cut Caoilfhinn off. "Yes, I know."

Caoilfhinn's shoulders slumped. "Oh." It was going to be like that. Jareth did not want the girl to know. Still, the two would have to acknowledge it someday, and it would do Caoilfhinn good to start planning now. Caoilfhinn strode forward purposefully. "You are quite pretty, Lady Sarah." Caoilfhinn's compliment was sincere, and she stopped about a foot away from Sarah, looking over Sarah's face with an appraising eye. "What is that in your eyes?"

Sarah tilted her head, unsure as to what Caoilfhinn was referring to until she remembered that contact lenses might appear odd on someone who stood so close. "That's just lenses for" With a flick of Caoilfhinn's wrist, they disappeared, causing Sarah to squawk in horror. "I need those to see!"

Caoilfhinn stepped closer, putting her hands on either side of Sarah's eyes. She slowly came into perfect focus, even without the corrective eyewear Sarah knew she needed. It was a symptom of too many dark nights pouring over theater scripts. There was an indignant intake of breath from Jareth. "When did you learn Healing magic, Caoilfhinn?"

Caoilfhinn whirled around, suddenly angry. "Don't be like that. You are the one, after all, who taught me to be untraditional. Healing is almost as untraditional as an Empress can get, after what Mab did." Sarah blinked experimentally. That . . . was not what she had expected from her first experience with an Empress. Perhaps some curtsying and being ignored, yes. This, though? Her eyes seemed unharmed, and so Sarah watched Caoilfhinn with wonder.

Across the room, Jareth raised a placating hand at Caoilfhinn, for once the calming influence in the conversation. "I was concerned because it is highly intricate, and Eorlth had yet to inform me."

Caoilfhinn shook her head furiously. "I've been learning out of books and with Healers who I chose especially to keep this secret. No one in Court knows. If you had come since that party twenty-two years ago, you would understand why I take such measures."

Sarah's eyes widened, thinking of the circumstances that could give rise to such need. "Thank you for fixing my sight, but why would you need to know Healing?"

Caoilfhinn turned back to Sarah, using a sardonic grin that she could only have learned from Jareth. "So I can heal myself, dear, or Liz if something goes very wrong." Sarah adopted a similarly stolen expression of annoyance. She had figured that much out.

However, before Sarah could ask for details, Jareth interjected. He looked taken aback at the two females before him. "Have things truly become that bad?"

Distracted from Sarah, Caoilfhinn stalked closer to Jareth. "Yes, they have, Jareth, which is why I came in person, rather than sending another writ that you would pass on to Eorlth." The harassed tone was back in her voice, warbling it and eradicating all sense of anger. "My centennial is next month." Sarah was perplexed. How could a thing that looked and acted so young and immature be nearly a century old? If Jareth was mercurial, Caoilfhinn was only more so, but they seemed to both hold the same conspiratorial cleverness that belied all their other actions. Despite their moodiness, the two were both planning for the long term. Sarah nearly shook her head. Things had been difficult enough with one elf.

Jareth nodded at Caoilfhinn. "I suppose you are asking me to attend." The last time he had seen Caoilfhinn in such a state had been fifty-eight years ago, when her regent was allowing the houses all sorts of now-criminal concessions and subverting all of Caoilfhinn's attempts to get a decent magic tutor. The Labyrinth had been her only haven then, Jareth the only one willing to guide her magical experiments. When that had happened, Jareth had gone to Court for only the third time in his life. His vote had turned the tide, tossing the corrupt regent out on his buttocks.

Caoilfhinn sighed imploringly. "If you do not come, the Houses will see it as a slap in my face and Brilliant Moon will again control Court. I shan't be able to stop them. They already show an incredible amount of impertinence as it is. I know you detest court functions, and there will likely be at least four that week, but I beg of you, please attend them all." Caoilfhinn's eyes were wide, and Jareth knew he would not be able to refuse, even if he had not been planning to.

However, he put on his mask of indifference and shrugged. "Only as a favor to you. Now, I do believe you wished to spend some quality time with Sarah and I?" Jareth would have done anything to get the topic away from court with Sarah in the room. He was not keen on her prying into that world, as he had no interest in attending Court more often than was necessary.

With those words, Caoilfhinn's fears seemed to melt away and she was suddenly the happy Empress with a generous grin in place of her former frown. "Of course. Perhaps we could adjourn to a sitting room, Uncle Jareth? I do wish to know more about your new houseguest."

Liz poked her head into the throne room and was relieved to find Sarah sitting by herself in an armchair with an exceptionally large tome. Glancing behind her to make certain Caoilfhinn was still busy talking to one of the goblins, Liz slid into the room, carefully swishing the skirt of her lavender dress away from the door. The thing, though it was designed for Liz to fight and run in, was always a bugger with doors. "Sarah!" Lizabeth used the carrying type of whisper Sarah recognized best from using to attract someone's attention in a library before she made her way swiftly over to Sarah. "You know, it's funny that this chair is still in here. Jareth usually banishes the things within a week."

Knowing that he kept it here for her, Sarah smiled, closing her book. "What are you here for today?" She cocked her head. "In a dress? With your hair put up . . ." This was the first time Sarah had seen Liz dressed so formally, and it was oddly disconcerting, especially the dress.

Lizabeth nodded. "Yes, today is the first of Caoilfhinn's centennial celebrations. She's holding this one at the palace, and wants to make sure you're all up to speed and nicely dressed before you go." Liz shrugged her shoulders, the contrived cascade of golden curls bouncing.

Shock hit Sarah like a brick wall. "I'm going to the party? I thought that was just Jareth." This was certainly the first she had heard on the subject.

Lizabeth looked puzzled. "Of course not. Caoilfhinn needs Jareth for the political side of things, but she has also taken an interest in you, and specifically wants to debut you on her terms." Lizabeth winced as Caoilfhinn swept into the throne room, followed by the chatty little goblin that she had been conversing with in the hall. There was no doubt now that Jareth would find them unawares, whereas she might have had some warning if Jareth had encountered Caoilfhinn in the corridor.

Late to the picture, Caoilfhinn pretty much repeated Liz's words, before expounding on their projected plan, causing Sarah's eyes to glaze over. "We also brought a dress for you." Caoilfhinn indicated a package that was floating behind her. Sarah could imagine Liz refusing to carry it on the grounds she was a bodyguard, not a packhorse, and Caoilfhinn putting on a bit of drama before bespelling it. At least, that was what Sarah knew would have gone on with Jareth.

The door on the opposite side of the room slammed open halfway through Caoilfhinn's ramble on courtly behaviors, revealing an entirely unhappy Jareth. "Caoilfhinn, I do not need to be fetched. I am perfectly capable of . . ." Jareth halted suddenly, digesting the scene before him. "Why are you talking about court with Sarah?"

Caoilfhinn rolled her eyes at Jareth, scoffing. "Because no one trusts you to do so properly. You even forgot to inform her that she was coming."

Liz sighed at the two Sidhe, quirking her mouth at Sarah in sympathy. Jareth sputtered, moving forward to confront Caoilfhinn. "No she is not."

Suddenly, his attention was distracted by a slight pull at his clothing.

"…King…King, Kiiiiing…" Jareth glanced down, glaring in irritation at the little goblin that was tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"What?"

The goblin shuffled a little nervously, "We's bored, s'all…" it looked up at its ruler hopefully. It knew that it was better to be bogged than to have the King get in an argument with the Fire-lady, but the little goblin still would rather be rewarded.

"Oh? Bored, are you?" Jareth's smile was falsely sweet as he grinned toothily. The goblin nodded.

"Then have fun." He snarled irritably as he sent the goblin flying out the window, presumably toward the Bog of Eternal Stench.

Despite the current situation, Caoilfhinn found herself impressed and muttered, disgruntled, why she could not do this within her own court. However, no sooner than the hapless little goblin had fled from sight did Caoilfhinn smile sinisterly. "You cannot keep Sarah cloistered in the Labyrinth Jareth." A twitch in her forehead communicated to Jareth that she thought only bad things could come from that: namely, Sarah getting sick of Jareth and leaving the Labyrinth forever. Neither of the rulers wanted that. "Besides that, I have a separate invitation for her. In case you had forgotten, that means that she does not require your permission to attend, despite the fact she is living in your household." Caoilfhinn closed the last few steps, leaving only a few feet and the mortals between them. Uncomfortable, Sarah rose from her chair.

Jareth folded his arms, raising his nose. "You are being an unreasonable hag."

"Only because you are an inflexible prick. With Liz, you and I watching over Sarah in court, what could possibly befall her?" A little more shouting occurred before they progressed beyond words, exchanging glares. Each refused to let up, sure that they had the better plan for Sarah. Sarah realized, with a suppressed giddiness, that the nobles had dragged each other into a staring contest.

"Jareth," said an amused tenor punctuated with squealing, "I believe this belongs to you…"

Jareth refused to look away from where he was locking gazes with Empress Caoilfhinn – who equally refused to back down. Sarah, however, had no such distraction and so turned to where the voice had come from. In the entryway to the throne room, stood a male Sidhe, dressed somewhat less flamboyantly than Jareth. The new Sidhe was of a good height, with an air that distinctly reminded her of a certain Goblin King, and eyes that clearly told of a penchant for mischief. Said Sidhe was also casually swinging and tossing a little goblin rather vigorously by the scruff of its dirty tunic in long vertical sweeps. The squealing was now explained as the little terror was the furthest thing from angry or afraid. In fact, it seemed to be having the time of its life.

"Clearly, I have misplaced it," Jareth said as he casually lifted his hand, and with a little twitch of his forefinger sent the goblin flying out the nearest window and apparently into the bog if the small splash and screech of disgust was any indication. All this was done without breaking eye contact with his opponent. "Now, what do I owe this unwelcome intrusion to?"

Sarah watched the exchange with mounting interest. "As hospitable as ever, Jareth. I heard you were planning to attend a court social, and as the sole member of court who does not scorn your delightfully feathery head I decided to help with the preparations. I was afraid your wardrobe would be dreadfully out of style. It seems I was right to worry."

Sarah could see that comment just stab the Goblin King in his little peacock heart. Well, she thought, I suppose that's what you get for spending all your time with goblins for centuries.

"And you took your time about it, Lord Eorlth." Caoilfhinn scoffed, turning her baleful gaze on Eorlth, casually dismissing Jareth's glaring protests as she looked away. Eorlth simply sent her an innocent smile – and if he was an innocent then Jareth was a cherub – and replied, "We can't all be able to simply appear within the Goblin King's castle. This reminds me, interesting what you've done to the Labyrinth, Jareth. The view seems to have changed since I was last here."

Startled by that comment, Sarah blurted out, "The view? Does this mean you came through the Labyrinth?"

A look of surprise swept across Eorlth's face at Sarah's outburst. Turning, his gaze roved past Jareth and the Empress to land on the mortal who was standing a bit behind and between the two quarrelling Fae nobles, an armchair forgotten behind her. A grin crept across the Sidhe's face. Well, he thought, now isn't this a surprise.

"Jareth, my friend, this is a pleasant surprise. And here I thought you were keeping her under lock and key."

Jareth's face was quite a sight, and Sarah's irritation at the memories Eorlth's comment brought forth was squashed by amusement. Jareth's expression warred between anger – at the Empress – and utter panic that she had to assume was brought upon by the Fae's presence.

Casually, Eorlth approached Sarah with a charming smile. The smile, though Sarah knew better since this was a Fae after all, made her heart beat just a little more rapidly as the Fae it belonged to came closer.

"And you must be Sarah."

Sarah blushed, and behind her Jareth sent Eorlth a blistering scowl.

"You've heard of me?"

"Jareth speaks of you often in his letters."

"Of that, I'm sure," Sarah muttered to herself, sure that he complained about her often, raising her voice back to a conversational tone she asked Eorlth, "What did you mean by the view of the Labyrinth?"

Oh, I'm not sure that you do…. Eorlth thought, amused, not missing a single word that Sarah spoke.

"Can't all Sidhe move like Empress Caoilfhinn or the Goblin King?"

Forlorn, Eorlth shook his head, "No, I don't have the power. Instead, I must resign myself to strolling through the lovely Labyrinth." Eorlth said, willfully ignoring the deadly glares that Jareth was sending his way. If dying by malignant thoughts were possible, he would have been buried five times over today. Jareth, apparently, was not all too fond of this conversation topic.

"You had to run the Labyrinth to get here?" Sarah said, shocked. She supposed it could explain the lack of visitors.

"Run the Labyrinth?" Eorlth gave a slight laugh, "That would be highly disconcerting," at this point Jareth was clearly considering the idea if only to keep out unwanted visitors who seemed intent on interrupting his conversations, "No, there's clearly a – " Eorlth ignored the deadly vibes that were stabbing into his skull, "Oh dear, Jareth never told you? There's a path that leads straight to the castle from the entrance of the Labyrinth. Quite difficult to find really, unless you know where the wyrm lives."

Sarah gaped, "But I did ask the worm! I asked it how to get into the Labyrinth!"

Eyes smirking, Eorlth smoothly asked, "Are you sure that was the right question?"

"…You mean I spent ten hours trying to find my way to the castle…when all I had to do was ask the worm where it was?"

Cheerfully, Eorlth signed his imminent death warrant as he replied, "It seems so!"

And also signed Jareth's as Sarah turned around and angrily walked, not quite stomped because that would be terribly against court etiquette to stomp, over to Jareth. Jareth, who had been systematically categorizing how he wanted to make Eorlth suffer organized by pain scale in alphabetical order of torture methods, finally realized his peril and furiously began to think of a way to placate her.

"And that's enough!"

Only to be saved from Sarah's fury by Caoilfhinn. Again. How…humiliating.

Throughout all of this Caoilfhinn had been completely swept from beneath the spotlight. This, of course, perturbed the young empress who was not used to being anything less than at the center of attention. Despite her years, numerous when compared to a human's, Caoilfhinn was still considered a 'child' by most Sidhe, which sometimes reflected on her mental state. And, like a child whose new toy had been taken away, she was feeling somewhat petulant at being ignored by Sarah and irritated at Eorlth for sweeping the conversation away from the topic she had set, and subsequently the object of her fascination, from under her feet.

Furthermore, Jareth, being the dense blockhead that he was sometimes wont to be, seemed to be unusually unaware that Eorlth was intentionally riling him. Caoilfhinn attributed this out of character behavior to be due to Sarah's presence as the mortal seemed to have an interesting effect on Jareth's mental state. Which is why she wanted to spend time with the girl, Caoilfhinn fumed. How was she supposed to find out what it was about this girl that ensnared Jareth so if she never got to talk with her?

Unwilling to wait for Jareth to pull his head out of his arse and regain control of the situation, that Eorlth was clearly taking advantage of, Caoilfhinn finally interjected herself into the ensuing conversation when it seemed as though Eorlth was just about to offer an arm and escort Sarah off into the castle on an erstwhile tour.

"Really, I've had enough of these games. Lord Eorlth, you've monopolized her time enough. You came here for Jareth, didn't you? So kindly get him into something other than those atrocious pants while I take care of Sarah."

With that, Caoilfhinn and Sarah disappeared out the door in a flurry, leaving the throne room filled with silence. Eorlth gave a slight cough, and then said cheerily to Jareth who still stared at where Sarah had been, seemingly perpetually frozen into place.

"Well, it seems she has that in hand. Let us go, shall we?"

"Into the bog."

"Pardon?"

"I am going to throw you into the Bog. Into the Bog. With a weight on your ankle."

"Yes, yes. Of course you will."

"Into the Bog…"

Chapter Text

"This is utterly horrendous. You apparently haven't updated your wardrobe for a century at the very least. No one has worn tights since Shakespeare crossed." Jareth watched, irritated, as Eorlth sorted through his closet. There was nothing wrong about his wardrobe. Absolutely nothing, it was perfect just the way it was. Besides, Jareth thought, he did not wear tights. His pants were tight, but they were not tights.

"I really do not see why all this is necessary."

Eorlth twisted out of the massive stack of clothing he had been buried in, looking at the shirts he held in his hands, considering, "Well, if you had attended court at all within the last decade or so this would not be necessary. As it is…" Eorlth turned a sudden sobering look in Jareth's direction, "This is entirely necessary."

Managing to put aside his sulking for a moment, because leaving Caoilfhinn and Sarah together was, in his opinion, a colossal mistake waiting to happen, Jareth asked, "So you are not just here to invade my privacy and humiliate me?"

"No. And when I say you should have attended court, I really do mean you should have attended court, Jareth. Here, try this, it might work," Eorlth tossed a pair of dress trousers over his shoulder in Jareth's general direction.

They landed on his head.

Irritably, Jareth snatched them off and reluctantly examined the article of clothing with a dubious gaze, and began picking at the threads with his nails, "I imagine court is the same boring thing it always is."

"No. The death of Empress Cairistìona stirred up the houses quite a bit. You may have stalled them for a moment after Caoilfhinn's coronation but that would never stop them for long. You should know that." Eorlth reached out and snatched the pants from Jareth's twitchy fingers, saving the seams from being unraveled by a sullen Goblin King, and tossing another pair at the Underground ruler, "They're restless, unhappy, and I think some are even going to challenge you if you show up at court."

Jareth looked up at that comment and gave an scornful snort, "Challenge? Me? I would like to see them try." That would certainly be a hoot, maybe in and of itself worth the visit.

Eorlth gave a rueful grin, "True. However, the minor houses may still make their move. In terms of houses…most are unsatisfied with Caoilfhinn's rule and the majority of the major houses wish to again impose a regent in their control."

"Which is why they are pressing so hard for her to marry," Jareth said, as he mulled the thought over in his head, hands clasped beneath his chin, "Which, of course, you knew," Jareth realized out loud, conclusively sending an irritated glare at Eorlth's back.

"Well, of course I did. What kind of Fae do you take me for?"

"And you couldn't have told me?" he demanded. Demanded. Not griped. Because Goblin Kings do not gripe, and they most certainly do not act like petulant mortal children. Jareth was certain of it.

"If I did that, I would never have a reason to come visit, now would I? You cannot stay in the company of goblins forever."

"That," muttered the very dignified and not petulant Goblin King, "is exactly the point."

Completely ignoring Jareth, Eorlth continued to discard and examine clothing while speaking, "In any case. You're exactly right, and the Goblin King's support of the Empress is making them uneasy."

"They want me out of the way." Jareth mused. Abruptly he smiled, sly and wicked, "That…" Jareth could barely contain his mirth, "will be very difficult to do."

"Ah, but it will be so amusing to watch. Now, these should work. Put them on and stop complaining."

Once they were out of the throne room, Caoilfhinn realized that she had absolutely no idea where Sarah's room was. Liz, at least, had possessed enough sense to pick up the parcel that had fallen to the ground when Jareth had began to argue with the Empress. Sarah shook her head at the two of them, quietly listening to their banter while she led them to her room.

Once inside, Caoilfhinn redirected her attention to Sarah. "As I was saying earlier, there is a level of behavior required at a court function." Sarah half listened to Caoilfhinn's lecture, which made much more sense than any of Jareth's had, as Liz set the bag down and produced a dress a few shades softer than royal blue. It sparkled where the sunlight hit it, showing the intricate beading. Liz motioned for Sarah to get on with the matter, as a dress could not be put on until her blouse and jeans were off.

Liz set the dress on top of the bureau and rummaged in the bag for a few other necessities while Caoilfhinn continued on in her unique description of court behaviors. Some of them made sense, like saving the first and last dance for her 'patron', Jareth. Others were a little odd, such as being careful not to bunch a noble's gloves. At her inquiry, Caoilfhinn shrugged. "Almost all adult Sidhe wear gloves unless performing tasks that require them off." Caoilfhinn displayed her bare hands for inspection. "The primary reason is that, like a butterfly tastes with its feet, Sidhe 'taste' magic with their fingers. The other, and the reason that no Empress is allowed to wear gloves, is that they are used to declare challenges, a tradition I heard was taken up in mortal courts as well."

Sarah mused on this. While she had always loved acting in the scenes where gloves were tossed, that only served to escalate her concern over the matter, but Caoilfhinn had already moved onto the next subject. Once Sarah was sufficiently disrobed, Liz passed her a shift and then the dress to step into. "Wait, no corset?"

Momentarily distracted from her rather disorganized lecture, Caoilfhinn took a second to look distraught. "You did not bring the one with a corset, Liz?"

Hands flying through the air, Liz groaned at the pair of them. "Have you ever worn a corset, Sarah?"

Sarah nodded. "Of course I have. Not very tightly though, because I had to sing."

Caoilfhinn's gasped "You sing?" was forgotten beneath Lizabeth's "Have you ever tried running in a corset?"

Realization hit her, as it often did these days, like a brick wall. Sarah blushed, understanding Lizabeth's point as she pulled dress up, adjusting the shift as she went. "No, I cannot imagine that would be very fun."

"I ran in corsets all the time," Caoilfhinn muttered under her breath.

Frustrated, Liz's hand went automatically to her forehead. "Not all of us were raised to be an Empress, Caoilfhinn. Also, some of us actually breath heavily when we exert ourselves." Liz turned her attention back to Sarah. "Your dress, like mine, is designed to have the appearance of a corset without any of the actual pain."

Sarah nodded as Lizabeth went through her explanation, while Caoilfhinn leapt up from her perch on Sarah's bed to do Sarah's laces. It was snug, but not uncomfortable. However, once the dress was on, Sarah was sat down in front of her vanity while Caoilfhinn and Liz poked through her hair, and that was excruciating. Attempting to divert her attention to something other than the pricking at her scalp, Sarah noticed the sparkle of many jewels around Lizabeth's bun, and so Sarah asked about it. What she received in return was a low chuckle. "This dress has fewer places to hide extra knives than my uniform." Sarah also noted that Lizabeth had been more careful with how she belted on weaponry over a dress, having only her long knife at her waist. Liz carefully removed a knife from her hair, it's long, white blade ending in a cluster of glittering jewels.

Sarah attempted to turn to see it, which caused a sound of frustration from Caoilfhinn, who was braiding a chunk of Sarah's hair. It also increased the prickling at her scalp. "Is that ceramic?"

Lizabeth nodded. "It is far too dangerous to have a steel blade in the middle of a ballroom full of troublesome Sidhe. It is generally crowded enough that even if there were a threat, any swing I made would nick a few other guests. Throwing knives are always ceramic, as anyone could accidentally step into the way."

With a snicker, Caoilfhinn winked, twisting another chunk of Sarah's hair into a braid. "Lizabeth has never had such an accident. She's far too good for that."

Lizabeth suddenly stiffened, knife loose in her hand. A grimace was on her face, making Sarah automatically worry. Caoilfhinn looked at Liz in the mirror and they exchanged a silent glance. Immediately sensing Lizabeth's source of disgruntlement, Caoilfhinn cleared her throat, picking up a spider web-like weave of fine silver thread, resplendent with shining blue beads. "I will be sending you two to the castle for a pre-party dinner."

Not understanding the source of panic, Sarah frowned. "What will be wrong with the food at your party? I've already been eating fairy food for a while." Honestly, what could the two women be so concerned about?

At this Liz and Caoilfhinn both burst into uproarious laughter. Good gracious, it had been a long time since they had heard that suspicion from a mortal, and it was more hilarious every time they heard it. Caoilfhinn quieted quickly, though. "Though I am hosting this party, it is a social event, and I cannot guarantee the safety of the food for the humans. They've been trying to get rid of Lizabeth for years with poison."

That was entirely appalling. Sarah's mouth gaped wide. "But I thought a good portion of the Faewilde was actually populated by humans. Can none of them eat at court functions?"

Caoilfhinn shrugged. "It is actually only one out of every fifty, though many couples would find much joy were Jareth to start getting more children. For a chance to get at the Empress, many of the Houses consider it an acceptable loss. However, I learned from the mistakes of the past," Caoilfhinn blinked hastily, as if to avoid shedding tears, "and have learned to sense poisons. When a function is specifically a sit-down dinner type thing, the humans will watch what I reject and avoid it."

Empathy surged within Sarah, hearing the pain of memory in Caoilfhinn's voice. Voice soft, Sarah nodded and continued the train of thought. "But with balls with unprotected platters, you cannot keep track of who has tampered with what."

Recovering from her reverie, Caoilfhinn beamed at Sarah. "Exactly. I knew you were smart. Now, are you to ready to head off?" Oh, the things she would do with this mortal of Jareth's. Intelligent, beautiful, and about to be well informed. Jareth would not even know what hit him.

Chapter Text

"Where is Sarah, Caoilfhinn?" Jareth asked the Empress suspiciously when the mentioned female did not seem to be forthcoming from the stairwell.

"She will meet you there. Now, don't be late, it's terribly impolite." Caoilfhinn told them smugly before vanishing, leaving the lightest dusting of glitter to fall to the floor in her wake.

"This," Jareth muttered disgustedly, "Is why I never attend court," a condescending smile pasted on his face as he nodded at all the nobles that gossiped as he swept past.

"If you had deigned to attend once a decade they would gossip much less. You've made yourself into such a mysterious myth, my friend. Speaking of which o'mysterious one, you're attracting far too much attention for my taste. If I'm seen with you it could make getting through court quite a bit more….difficult."

"So you are going to leave me to this ravening horde." Jareth said flatly. It was not that he was bad at politics, because everyone here knew that Jareth could sweep the floor with them in the debates. No, it was that the whole Court order was so terribly inefficient and annoying, and now his cousin was about to leave him to deal with it all by himself.

Eorlth was already disappearing in to the crowd as he flapped a hand nonchalantly in Jareth's direction.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be fine. You have been reading my letters after all, haven't you?" his fading voice replied as he finally vanished into the throng. As Jareth looked about, he searched the sea of somewhat familiar and unfamiliar faces for a specific person. Unable to find her, Jareth turned about in frustration.

"How unusual to see you here, Goblin King."

Jareth swallowed his groan of frustration. Now he had to make nice with the fae population.

"Yes, the empress specifically requested my presence this year, and I could hardly refuse her."

"Of course, of course. Ah, excuse my presumption," The Sidhe noble bowed low, the depth of which indicated, if Jareth remembered correctly – and he was sure he did as Eorlth had been sure to review court etiquette with him as his skills were somewhat rusty – that the noble in question was a member of a lower house than his. Possibly a major house, but, in all likelihood, the fae was a member of a minor house.

"I am…oh my, now who is that? I have never seen her before."

At the fae's sudden change in manner, Jareth turned to see Sarah standing in the opened doors, resplendent in fae clothing that glittered brightly, reflecting the brilliant lights that filled the hall.

Caoilfhinn stood beside her equally dressed in a stunning fae gown, a barely hidden smug grin on her face, but Jareth paid little attention to that, so absorbed was he by Sarah as the scribe announced them to the hall. "The Empress Caoilfhinn, of the line of Rébereth, and her human companion the Lady Sarah Williams."

The noble beside him completely forgotten, Jareth swallowed a curse and swiftly moved to intercept the wave of males that would inevitably swarm towards Sarah.

Only to be held back by a stern glare from Caoilfhinn. Reluctantly, he backed away, and felt grudgingly grateful when he saw Eorlth emerge and intercept some interested gazes as he offered Sarah his arm.

"Lady Sarah, you look lovely,"

Sarah turned, "Lord Eorlth," she dipped into a curtsy, refusing to acknowledge the slight pit in her stomach. Why would she be disappointed that it was not Jareth who come to find her first? The idea was ridiculous. Well, perhaps not so silly, a small subconscious thought whispered to her beneath the denial. No, absolutely ridiculous, she thought to herself sternly, ruthlessly quashing the memories of a quiet moonlit night not so long ago when Jareth had watched her sleep.

"-rah – Lady Sarah, are you alright?"

Blinking, Sarah realized that while absorbed in her own thoughts time had still continued to flow and therefore she had been standing unresponsive for a good minute or so. Eorlth had bent towards her nearly imperceptibly and his eyes were filled with a mixture of mild curiosity and worry.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you for your concern." She told him, giving him a reassuring smile as she placed her hand on his outstretched arm.

At her response, Eorlth leaned back, the slight furrow in his brow relaxing.

"That is good. You seemed a bit absent for a moment." He looked at her thoughtfully, before saying, "Ah, thoughts of a certain – well, pay me little mind. Your thoughts are your own." His features settled into slightly smug and altogether far too knowing look than Sarah was comfortable with.

Ignoring him, and at Eorlth's sly smirk she knew her ploy to completely avoid the topic at hand had not gone unnoticed, she continued to look about court. Apparently relenting, Eorlth settled at her side and guided her past curious guests. Sarah had to admit, the room was gorgeous. Warm and inviting, but lit so brightly Sarah would have she needed to shield her eyes from the glowing lights that danced about the room and glinted off the clothing that near sparkled with a sun-like radiance. Her shoes clicked on the marbled floor, and she felt almost small amongst all this glory.

"I am sure you will be reassured to know that if he could, our feathery friend would be here. As it is, the Empress Caoilfhinn has requested his presence for political reasons. Quite separate from her reasons for inviting you, as such, she will keep him quite busy until he can find a clever way to escape. Which he will find difficult." Although, Eorlth thought to himself privately, Caoilfhinn may have also known that Jareth would have proved much more unwilling to put on an appearance had Sarah not been invited as well. Since Sarah was here, Jareth would be more proactive in the politics of court. If only so he could manage to civilly, and civilly being used lightly, keep the other male fae from gathering too close to the beautiful mortal.

Despite all her misgivings, Sarah found herself reassured by Eorlth's words, though by no means would she ever admit it aloud, and settled into her skin more firmly.

"Pardon me,"

A strange fae was approaching them with a polite smile, interested, clearly, in the new mortal woman the Empress had seen fit to introduce to the Court. She curtsied and felt relief that she did wobble nor fall flat on her face. The fae gave a proprietary bow. Standing back up, he looked at her contemplatively before turning to Eorlth.

"Lord Eorlth, I was not aware you were close enough to the empress to be allowed to escort her new mortal… friend."

Eorlth merely gave a small laugh, but his voice was subtly edged with steel, "Flattery will get you everywhere, Lord Erulcieru. I merely extended an offer to show the Lady Sarah about. The Empress had little to do with it."

"Of course, I must have been mistaken," Lord Erulcieru replied, smile still in place, and voice casual as though discussing the weather but his eyes were hard and glittering.

Sarah was a bit startled however, at the tone Lord Erulcieru had taken in speaking of the Empress. Though Caoilfhinn had seemed a bit flighty to her, Sarah believed the empress to have only the best intentions for those she considered her subjects. To find that there were some that were unhappy was not unsurprising, but still Sarah found herself somewhat unsettled. What made her equally uncomfortable was the use of the "friend" that Lord Erulcieru had used. She could have also placed other quite unflattering words into that space and come up with the exact meaning the original wording had conveyed.

Eorlth made a noncommittal sound, his response nonchalant and seeming to simply wave aside Lord Erulcieru's comment. Though he made no outward signs, Sarah had a feeling the Eorlth was barely restraining anger, though how she knew she could not tell. Perhaps it was the tension, or the focused casual intensity of their interaction that her feeling as though she stood on unstable ground.

"Oh, perhaps then the Goblin King? I had heard he was attending, though I have yet to see him."

"I wouldn't take you as one for listening to gossip, Lord Erulcieru."

"Yes well, imagine my surprise. There have been rumors of a mortal woman being kept within the Labyrinth. Then upon the Empress' centennial she introduces a mortal woman and the Goblin King makes his first appearance in decades? You can hardly fault me for my curiosity."

Eorlth gave a short laugh, "A kept woman? Unlikely, but then the Goblin King is known to be eccentric."

"Yes, you would know." Lord Erulcieru said thoughtfully. Eorlth grimaced to himself silently, of all the fae to run across, it had to be this one.

At this point Sarah was growing increasingly irritated. Thus far the Sidhe had completely ignored her presence, as though she were below his notice. While Sarah could understand being ignored in favor of, perhaps, a conversation between old acquaintances that were merely catching up, this fae seemed neither friendly nor a common acquaintance of Eorlth. She could feel herself grow restless as her ire rose and she attempted to still herself. Sarah refused to allow herself to be a motionless spectator as a stranger belittled and maligned her. She was not some kind of pet to be spoken about above her head.

"Your name." The words came spilling out of Sarah's mouth before she became aware they were even there. Her tone was firm, no amount of the anger she felt wavered in her voice, "You declined to introduce yourself." That good manners in regards to court etiquette dictated otherwise went unspoken, if heavily implied.

The fae paused before locking eyes with her. He imperceptibly cocked his head, reminiscent of a raptor eyeing his prey. His eyes glittered with an unnamable emotion as he regarded her aloofly. His lips turned into a thin smile, "Interesting. So it talks. Forgive, My Lady," her title dripped from his mouth as though it were something mildly distasteful, "I am Lord Erulcieru of the House of Dusk, Lord Husband to Queen Eibhlín."

She inclined her head to him gracefully, the bend in her neck small. I am higher than you, her body language spoke.

"Lady Sarah Williams, it has been a pleasure."

"I suppose," Turning to Eorlth, he said, "And Lord Eorlth, it has been a while. We have much to discuss." Lord Erulcieru's eyes flicked to Sarah for a moment, before resettling on Eorlth.

Eorlth, in turn, give a short nod, "Of course, I'll have the date and time arranged."

"See to that."

Nothing left to be said, Erulcieru left after one more speculative look at Sarah.

"You handled that nicely." He told her, voice hushed and solely for her ears.

"Who was that?"

Eorlth shook his head indicating it was conversation for another time, when another fae caught his attention with a small wave of her hand, "Ah, here is someone you should meet. Lady Sarah, the Empress' twin sister Saoirse."

Saoirse turned with a timid smile that Sarah had seen countless times through her education, and Sarah did not hesitate to file that information away. "Good evening Lord Eorlth. Would this be my sister's new distraction? It is most certainly not every day you see Caoilfhinn in the frenzy you have brought on her, Lady Sarah. I am quite pleased to finally meet you."

Where Caoilfhinn's hair was the color of coals burning at the center of a fire, Saoirse's was a more muted, browner red that was not as conspicuous. Though her face was also more angular than her sister's, Sarah could see the resemblance, especially in the calm and collected blue eyes. Sarah smiled back, "It is a joy to meet you as well."

When it seemed Eorlth was about to take his leave, Saoirse raised an eyebrow and drew him back into the conversation. "Still unmarried, Lord Eorlth? You might wish to be careful, or soon Queen Eibhlín will have you on her list of potential dalliances."

Eorlth shuddered, a far cry from the witty comeback Sarah had come to expect from him. "I would rather not entertain the thought of that," Eorlth paused to consider, "venerable woman." Remembering Eibhlín's husband, Sarah understood Eorlth's position.

Another timid smile tweaked Saoirse's lips as she leaned closer to Sarah. "Queen Eibhlín is infamous for the harem she keeps of bachelors who are reaching the close of the traditional marrying age." Saoirse turned back to Eorlth. "But Eorlth has another century or so before he needs concern himself with that." Saoirse turned back to Eorlth, raising her eyebrows. Saoirse's tone had hinted at something, with overtones of conspiratorial knowledge, and a slight undercurrent of sweetness.

Eorlth had had concerns about the mortal's presence in court. As he had anticipated, most fae were reacting with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. The 'most' being those who were least in favor of the current empress. His concern had seemed justified in the beginning, Sarah had clearly been harboring some misgivings, and he had taken it upon himself to ease her into the court. However, she had handled herself very well in front of Lord Erulcieru, which would not have been easy. Speaking of which, Eorlth thought to himself, he was most annoyed personally that he had not anticipated Lord Erulcieru's reaction to Sarah, although he had been well aware how Sarah and Jareth's dual presence may have been read. His lips quirked into a sly smile, Sarah had held herself like a fae, acted as though she were a member of the entitled fae nobility. In fact she had been imperious, demanding, she really was quite perfect to be – Eorlth cut that thought short, laughing to himself quietly, Jareth thought he didn't know and it seemed Sarah herself was not aware. Well, he wasn't about to impart anything to either of them. Far be it for him to involve himself any further. If nothing else, it would provide entertainment to last him at least a century. Looking out in the crowd, Eorlth spied some rather promising discussion occurring, and moved to dismiss himself. As enjoyable as Sarah's company was, Eorlth had other things that needed doing.

"I fear I must depart. It seems you have this in hand Lady Saoirse, and Lady Sarah, you seem capable enough to navigate your way around court, I trust. I thank you for allowing me the pleasure of your presence." With a bow of farewell, Eorlth disappeared.

The two women watched Eorlth walk away with purposeful stride. Saoirse turned back to Sarah with a smile. "Always off gathering intelligence, that one." It sounded more like a rosy endearment than a condemnation to Sarah. "So, what is it about you that has my sister so curious?" Sarah shrugged, but Saoirse had already grabbed one of her hands. "I see you have calluses on your fingers. What type of Art?"

Sarah laughed lightly, although it was beginning to dawn on her that Saoirse was incredibly sharp, even if she did seem rather eccentric. "I'm not sure that Mathematics counts as an art." Sarah's mind was drawn back to college, when everyone had heard her major and made a face that clearly showed their view of numbers.

There was a moment where Saoirse processed Sarah's foreign terms, but it was surprisingly short. Saoirse's lips gaped open for a moment. "Ah, you mean Arithmetic? It most certainly is an Art, but it is so rare to find one who truly appreciates and enjoys it as I do." Saoirse began to lead Sarah closer to the edge of the room, the better for them to converse. "As I am too young to be married, I felt rather awkwardly useless within the court until Caoilfhinn allowed me to begin to account for its assets. Now I no longer, as she says, 'sequester myself away from society' all day."

Sarah's eyes went wide, and a true smile graced her face. "Accounting is my specialty! You wouldn't happen to know?" Sarah's sentence trailed off, but it seemed Saoirse still understood what Sarah meant to ask, though it took another small while of Saoirse puzzling over what, to her, was peculiar wording.

"The Labyrinth is fine, financially. In fact, every time Jareth begins to run out of revenue, it produces a new resource. Last time," Saoirse leaned closer to Sarah, looking conspiratorial, "a whole grove of pomegranate trees appeared, and they were divine. The entire process is fantastic for Court taxes, as well. This party was paid for with the Labyrinth's taxes alone." A Sidhe lady interrupted them, bowing low to Saoirse

"Happy centennial, Lady Saoirse." The woman rose slowly. "The House of Gilt Treetops gives it's regards to thee and wishes thee a long and felicitous life." The woman's eyes lit upon Sarah and widened, though she said nothing.

Saoirse inclined her head slightly. "I receive your gifts with gratitude, Lady Jocelyn." Saoirse declined to say anything about the human beside her, knowing that the correct thing to do would be to allow the Lady to ask about Sarah of her own will. "They do your House great honor."

Lady Jocelyn raised an eyebrow. "And who is this fetching mortal by your side?" Her smile now was ambivalent, neither fake nor very welcoming toward Sarah, who was beginning to feel slightly awkward.

The sweet smile on Saoirse's face made up for any lack of emotion in Lady Jocelyn's. "This, Lady Jocelyn, is the Empress's newest acquaintance, Lady Sarah Williams." Saoirse's hand went gently to Sarah's shoulder, a quiet affirming of Sarah's position within the court.

True to the forms of court, Lady Jocelyn bowed before Sarah, not low enough for Saoirse's liking, but a passable depth. "It is always a treat to meet a friend of the Empress's. How are you enjoying your first visit to the High Court?"

With a glance at Saoirse for guidance, Sarah carefully resisted the impulse to shrug. "It has been quite educational thus far, Lady Jocelyn."

The mirth that Sarah's words inspired was genuine, and Lady Jocelyn chuckled softly. "You've been learning quite well, if I may say so, if you should say anything that kind after speaking with Lord Erulcieru. Not even his supporters can stand his pretentious ignorance of his fellow courtiers. You must come naturally to the political game, Lady Sarah."

A delicate blush graced Sarah's cheekbones, and she was unsure of how to reply to such forthright words. Luckily, Saoirse saved her. "Ah, Lady Jocelyn, you are ever the astute one." Saoirse leaned forward with a gleam in her eye. "Would you have any idea what the Lord Aroin is up to? I have heard some fanciful rumors, and would rather appreciate your opinion of them."

A conniving smile escaped Lady Jocelyn, and it was clear to Sarah that the Lady was an avid gossip. "I've heard nothing, but I can be sure to take a look at the boy." With those words, she gave a small curtsy and disappeared into the throng of fae.

Thoroughly amused, a sigh of relief escaped Saoirse. "Ah, Sarah, surviving court is all about knowing how to handle each member. While Lady Jocelyn is brilliant, flattery and wine go to her head with equal speed, and it is easy to distract her. However, she was correct in that you gave a fantastic answer to her question. Now, I believe we were talking about the Arts?"

Saoirse watched carefully, hoping that Lady Jocelyn had not imbibed too much wine already, and would head in the correct direction, rather than toward her dear Uncle Jareth, who seemed to be doing his best at keeping any male nobles from approaching their little niche. It would seem that Jareth was not feeling disposed toward allowing Sarah to dance with anyone in Court, and Saoirse wondered where her sister was. If Caoilfhinn spotted this, Jareth would either get in immense trouble, or her silly sister would finally consent to allowing Sarah to be monopolized by the jealous Goblin King.

And Caoilfhinn wondered why Saoirse hated Court.

Many more fae proceeded to stop by the two women who were quickly becoming friends. Most fae left after a simple courteous well wishing of the Empress's sister, but some stayed to interrupt the discussion. Of that type there were two kinds, those who attempted to ignore Sarah, and those who found her fascinating. It was a while later that the first male Sidhe since Eorlth had parted with them approached the two grinning ladies. "Ah, a happy centennial to you, Lady Saoirse. Would I be remiss in asking for a dance?"

The mild mannered girl paused, looking askance at Sarah, who detected a hint of 'save me' in that glance. However, there was nothing Sarah could think to do that was polite, and so Saoirse pleasantly answered, "I think that my comrade should be able to entertain herself in my absence," and took the noble's hand, spinning away into the flurry of colors, leaving Sarah to her own devices.

Chapter Text

If Sidhe could get migraines, Caoilfhinn was sure Jareth would cause her first one. She had brought Sarah to introduce her to the fae court. Jareth was making this exceedingly difficult. Yes, Jareth had done as she asked. In fact, he was doing more than she asked, since all that she had required of him was to put on an appearance to show his support of her rule. However, as he had waltzed about the floor speaking to various house members seemingly with good-will, and a heavy dose of repressed irritation, the goblin king had managed to blockade any male fae who seemed to even venture in the mortal's direction. Apparently, Jareth's mindset was: if he could not dance with the girl, then he would bare veiled fangs and subtly threaten away any who would dance with Sarah. And hours into the celebration, the goblin king was still heading off any who expressed interest in speaking with the mortal girl.

She had had enough.

"You'll have to excuse King Jareth, Lord Aroin," She said from over Jareth's shoulder, "I'm afraid I have some business with the Goblin King. Isn't that right, Jareth?" She asked sweetly.

Jareth, quite obviously wanting absolutely nothing to do with her, seemed intent on ignoring her presence and continuing his glowering and ridiculous posturing at the noble in front of him. The noble, however, seemed to have no such compunctions and in fact seemed relieved to be released from the Goblin King's presence.

"I will take my leave then, your Highnesses." He said, and bowed perfunctorily to the both of them before walking away. In Sarah's direction no less, Caoilfhinn noticed amusedly.

"Excellent, thank you," And with that she grasped Jareth's hands and pulled him into the throng of dancers and completely ignoring his fuming glare.

"You can't do this," she hissed at him, also glaring.

"I have no idea what you are implying." Jareth scoffed as he glared over Caoilfhinn's shoulder at the impertinent noble that had walked straight to Sarah the moment Jareth had been pulled away.

"No, you cannot. You are supposed to be wading through the Court politics, pulling off miracles like you always do, and she supposed to be getting acknowledged by the court. She cannot do that if you insist in getting in the way. You cannot keep her trapped inside that moldy pile of stones that you call a castle forever." Never mind that it was actually one of the tidiest keeps she had ever visited, ignoring the glitter.

"My castle is perfectly clean," He snapped back, irritated enough to drop his façade of ignorance, "And why should I not keep them away? Court politics have nothing to do with the Labyrinth."

"Oh, you may not want to have anything to do with court politics, but Sarah should not be kept in ignorance of the fae world. She can't want to stay stuck in that castle with you all the time, can she?"

Jareth was sure that he knew many of Sarah's opinions of him but this was one of his own private fears: that she wanted to leave the Labyrinth and not wish to return. As such, Caoilfhinn's comment drew that fear from where he had hidden it, and cut him deeply.

"That is for Sarah to decide. I'll thank you not speak for her." Jareth replied stiffly, eyes still hot and angry.

Caoilfhinn swallowed her retort and eyed him speculatively; about to speak her reply when they were interrupted.

"If I may cut in?"

The tap on his shoulder had alerted Jareth to the presence of another fae, but at the voice he felt himself almost go limp in relief.

"You may, if the lady is so inclined," Jareth replied. Caoilfhinn gave them both a glare that promised retribution, as she accepted the outstretched hand that Eorlth held towards her.

Jareth, finally released of Caoilfhinn's presence, swiftly made his way through the dancers and, without a word, bypassed the noble that was currently leading Sarah into another dance and offered his hand to her silently with a subtly raised eyebrow.

"Sarah, darling, would you be so kind as to allow me this dance?"

Sarah turned and found herself face to face with the Goblin King. As relaxed as he appeared, Jareth's tone spoke volumes and Sarah read them clearly. He was tightly wound, and barely restraining himself from homicide if what she deduced was correct. Considering all that, she felt it was in everyone's best interest, if not in hers – and why that was she refused to dwell on – that she accept his invitation to dance.

Sarah sent an apologetic glance to the young noble, the first son of some minor house if she remembered correctly. Much to her chagrin, she found herself relieved, Jareth's presence comfortable and familiar in comparison to the near alien sensation of the court and all the strange fae. She kept finding herself wanting to look over her shoulder, the political game so heavily imbued into the court itself as it was that she could almost feel it as a physical sensation that ran across her skin. Taking his hand, she allowed him to sweep her onto the floor where all the dancers twirled and moved until all that could be seen were swirls of color that an artist's palette would envy.

Perhaps Eorlth can be useful after all, Jareth thought to himself, refusing to acknowledge any form of emotion that even resembled gratefulness as he spun Sarah into a dance, his hand light upon her waist and steady around her hand. She looked stunning, nearly fae herself, really. The blue of her dress shone and shimmered as brightly as any and spun about her ankles as light as gossamer wings, the airiness equal to the gowns that graced the figures of the highest nobles. And with her so close to him, he could make out the delicate threadwork of her bodice, and the subtle beading that enhanced her figure. A figure that was nothing like the young Sarah he had once held in his arms. Her hair was pinned up in a more simple variation of the current fashion that was rampaging through the court females and held together with a net of spider thin thread that glinted silver and was studded with stones that twinkled like stars.

She really was quite a sight, Jareth thought admiringly.

Unfortunately his admirations were cut short when, at the second pass of the dance, Eorlth sent him a knowing smirk from over the Empress' shoulder and Jareth immediately forgot all thoughts of goodwill.

I am going to throw him into the Bog head first.

Jareth was resplendent in dashing green and blue, Sarah thought, the colors of a deeper hue than her own clothing, but still shone and sparkled just as brightly. Sarah was once again reminded of a peacock, and she ducked her head to hide her laughter. How appropriate, she thought, that he be dressed in the colors of that flamboyant proud bird.

"I am reminded of the first time we danced." Startled, Sarah looked up from where she had been hiding her mirth to meet Jareth's gaze. At this distance, she was so close she could have counted his eyelashes.

"Are you? I remember it to be a somewhat hallucinogenic memory," Sarah told him frankly, "I find this dance to be much more preferable, hardly reminiscent of that childish fantasy."

Jareth's gaze was inscrutable as he looked at her, "…Yes," he said softly, "I suppose it is. No masks, no tricks, and you are no longer a child," His voice was lowering to nearly a whisper against her ear. A shiver ran down Sarah's back, and she felt as though the world was falling away from beneath her feet like the Escher room had once done those many years ago.

Suddenly, the music cut short. Sarah, startled, stumbled a bit as Jareth just as abruptly stopped moving, his grip on her hand tightening until it was almost painful. Uncertain of what was happening, and unable to move from Jareth's tightened embrace, Sarah felt uncomfortable and tried, again, to pull her hand away. Relief suddenly swept through her as she saw Eorlth approaching from over Jareth's shoulder, but the feeling was quickly swept away in favor of trepidation at the unusually sober expression across the Sidhe's fair face. As Eorlth drew level with Jareth's shoulder, she felt Jareth's hold on her release as he pushed her behind him and into Eorlth's waiting hand.

"Eorlth, what is going on?" Sarah asked, confusion in her voice, disconcerted enough to forget the etiquette she had been taught for the moment and mistakenly address him casually.

"We suspected something like this might happen," he replied, as he led her aside and toward the rest of the fae, who had all backed away until they were a ring that encircled around Jareth and the approaching fae noble. The Sidhe was slightly of shorter height than Jareth, with an aristocratic nose, and haughty air that surpassed even Jareth's cockiest moments. With a swift movement, the sidhe removed his glove and tossed it carelessly in the air.

It landed an inch from Jareth's feet.

"I am Lord Denudaed, first son of Lady Jezebel of the House of Birdsong and I challenge Jareth of the House of Long Shadow to a duel for the title of Goblin King of the Underground Labyrinth."

Chapter Text

Sarah's eyes went wide at the Lord Denudaed's declaration. What did he think he was doing? Sarah twisted around to look askance at Eorlth, who was looking determinedly forward. She however caught Empress Caoilfhinn's angry gaze. Caoilfhinn was so flushed as to make her skin rival the color of her hair, whereas Lizabeth looked on with a calculated rage, standing by Caoilfhinn's elbow. She stood, like a panther waiting to pounce, between Eorlth and Caoilfhinn, searching for any bold enough to use the challenge as cover to come after the Empress.

Sarah locked eyes with the Empress, her distraught look rivaling even Caoilfhinn's livid one. Jareth's chuckling response to his challenger sent a shiver up Sarah's spine, only making her more frightened. How could he take this so lightly? "I, Jareth Goblin King, accept Lord Denudaed of the House of Birdsong's challenge. We will meet each other with sabers until first blood."

Denudaed shifted back with a smirk. "Our match shall take place here and now."

After nodding at a questioning servant, Caoilfhinn groaned, muttering "Athena tabhair dom ghrasa. Why at my party?" Suddenly, Eorlth had shifted so that Sarah was between him and Lizabeth, where they could hold on to her if she got it into her mind to interfere with the challenge. Sarah turned to watch Caoilfhinn snatch a scribe and whisper in his ear. However, the servant returning with two wicked-looking ceramic swords on a velvet pillow distracted Sarah, who was becoming increasingly anxious.

Lizabeth leaned to murmur in Sarah's ear. "There are terrible penalties for disturbing a challenge, Sarah. Just let Jareth win." The swords were presented to the two nobles, Jareth with his self-aggrandizing smirk and Denudaed with a grim mask. Jareth tested the weight of his blade before retreating a set number of paces away from the center of the circle, which Sarah now noticed was a nearly imperceptible shade lighter than the rest of the polished stone floor. His challenger retreated an equal distance. It suddently occurred to Sarah that Jareth did not even entertain the idea that his challenger would win.

Sarah pulled on Liz's arm, hissing, "Why is he doing this?" If Jareth was so confident, she knew that there was some truth to it.

Liz slowly pulled her attention away from the surrounding throng of murmuring fae, loath to stop watching them. "It's a political ploy. This is a way of letting Jareth know there are stronger nobles who desire the Labyrinth's power. It is also a method of determining his strength and character. Unpleasant nobles, or occasionally those who wish to dissuade more challengers, often make the challenge to the death."

Caoilfhinn pushed her way to the edge of the circle, where, as the host, she would call the beginning of the challenge. Liz observeded carefully, left hand twitching near her knife. "It is also a prime opportunity to assassinate well-protected targets, as most everyone's attention is on the challenge." At Liz's words, Caoilfhinn's imperious tone filled the room, and the challengers began circling.

Jareth nearly felt bad for his opponent. A sacrificial lamb, sent to the slaughter for the myriad of more influential houses that wanted a point made. Jareth knew that he would win this challenge, and Caoilfhinn's punishment for disrupting her court would be swift and severe. No Empress appreciated hosting an event at which a challenge was declared, Caoilfhinn all the less because of her love for attention. It was out of mercy that Jareth had decided to only go until first blood, for he would have been entirely within his rights, even expected, to call for a fight to the death. The boy before him was as much a victim of court politics as he was.

Denudaed had not yet realized this, however, as indoctrinated as he had been by those who had manipulated him. He stepped forward with the slightest wobble, and his sword was smacked aside by the flat of Jareth's blade, which proceeded to then slap the boy's hip. The young Lord, as well as his supporters, still deserved a lesson that a pitifully short challenge would not provide. Denudaed, presented with Jareth's immense skill with a bade, suddenly came to the realization that he had little hope of winning. Another motion was halted, and Jareth repeated the same walloping procedure. Thankfully, the boy learned to avoid that tactic, or the rest of the challenge would have been frightfully tedious for Jareth. No doubt Lord Denudaed would have some nasty bruises when he awoke on the morrow.

Nearly half the crowd cheered as Denudaed made a feint to the left and seemingly got past Jareth's defenses. However, Jareth was at least thrice Denudaed's age, and saw his opponent's eyes flick to the right at the last second. That attempt was defeated and returned with another slap from Jareth's white blade. There was a scoff from the side of the room that contained Sarah, and a noble in the opposite corner yelled, "Stop toying with the poor lad, and let us get back to dancing." It sounded like one of the younger brothers from the House of Dawn, especially when the House's head, Ceallach, hushed the rowdy noble.

Jareth nodded, taking on a more predatory stance. Lord Denudaed's next advance was met with three powerful blows from the flat of Jareth's sword, and one intentional miss from the edge. Jareth's ears perked up when he heard Sarah quietly ask something of Eorlth, and he nearly fumbled in his distraction, sending out a chorus of ooing and couple of cheers from the minor houses. Angry at himself, Jareth's next blow landed, a long but shallow cut along Denudaed's upper arm. Caoilfhinn's triumphant yell pierced the air immediately. "First blood witnessed by I, Empress Caoilfhinn Rébereth! The Goblin King has won."

Some unfamiliar Sidhe female stepped forward as well. "I, Nanirie, Queen of the House of High Noon add my witness. The Goblin King has won." How odd, Jareth thought. He had forgotten that the previous Head of High Noon had passed away. It was a sobering thought, even though the woman had been alive so long as to remember when Mab was Empress.

Caoilfhinn nodded. "As witnessed, to be recorded." After the ceremonial pause, she sighed in relief. "Healer Seapearl? If you would attend to Lord Denudaed, please. Scribe?" Caoilfhinn strode quickly to the center of the circle, waving her hand expectantly at the scribe she had been whispering too. The servant with the pillow quickly gathered the two swords and briskly carried them away while a hush spread among the nobles. Caoilfhinn received the document around the same time Denudaed was Healed and had collected his glove.

With a slightly apologetic glance at the erring noble, Caoilfhinn related the document. "For disruption of the High Seelie Court on a day that should have been filled with only celebration with a challenge to one of the Court's high standing members, the offender, Lord Denudaed of the House of Birdsong, is hereby to receive the due consequences of his actions. Lord Denudaed is banished from the High Court for two centuries, or until such a time as the Head of his house can convince the Empress of his corrected behavior." Caoilfhinn sighed, and the rest of the court began murmuring. That was an incredibly light sentence for a man who challenged the Empress's greatest supporter. "This sentence is to be carried out immediately by the Imperial Guard." Caoilfhinn sent a meaningful glance at the musicians, who immediately struck up a hearty dancing tune.

Sarah wrenched away from Eorlth's grip and ran over to Jareth. She was received with a quick and sincere smile. "Ah, Sarah. Do you wish to dance?"

Figuring that it was the only way she would be able to speak with him until they returned to the castle, Sarah accepted. Once they were sufficiently engrossed in the crowd, she leaned close to Jareth to murmur angrily in his ear. Anyone with the indecency to gawk at the two, which due to the challenge was everyone, noticed Jareth's strangely euphoric grin, like a cat with cream on its whiskers. The expression withstood Sarah's harsh, "What was that?"

To be honest, Jareth hardly took note of Sarah's words. It smelled as if Sarah were wearing some light citrus perfume, which only contributed to her spunky personality. "Nothing too abnormal, darling. It happens all the time in court."

"Not to you." Jareth was taken aback by the wisdom in Sarah's comment. Sometimes he forgot how perceptive she was, merely because she was a mortal who was new to this world. At the moment, he perceived that the citrus scent was coming from behind Sarah's ear, and Jareth was beginning to feel rather tempted. For now, though, he had to content himself with the fact that he held her curved form in his arms.

"Quite right, Sarah. Most nobles try not to challenge Kings, Queens, or the Empress. It tends to have horrendous results. However, a point had to be made."

Sarah pulled back to look at Jareth better. "Wait. I thought Empresses couldn't challenge. Caoilfhinn doesn't wear gloves."

Jareth shook his head. "You do not need a glove to accept a challenge, Sarah. Of course, no one has verbally challenged an Empress since the first days of the Faewilde, but," Jareth chuckled, "then again, no one wants to coerce an Empress into a challenge."

Sarah nodded grimly, though she was still unsure whether she truly understood. "I'm not sure I like court."

If anything, Jareth's grin grew wider. "We could take our absence early, if you would like. It would not be unusual after having been challenged."

Sarah suddenly looked extremely relieved. "That would be absolutely lovely," she murmured, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. It did not begin to cross her mind what the court might think, or how the Empress might take it. Sarah just wanted, desperately, to be back in the Labyrinth, where she and Jareth were safe from these awful fae.

Caoilfhinn moved quickly to the edge of the room, far too overcome with annoyance to recognize any attempts at drawing her into a dance. She reached the refreshment table with relief and was leaning to grasp a glass of cider when a sudden hand on her shoulder caused the Empress to jump. Caoilfhinn's gaze went accusingly to Lizabeth, who had not given her any warning, before she turned to greet the noble that had startled her.

It was Morrigan. Caoilfhinn's smile immediately lost any vestige of sincere quality. "Good evening, Queen Morrigan. I trust the House of Darkest Night is doing well?"

Morrigan was one of the greater members of Caoilfhinn's opposition, and at a millennium and a half sometimes acted as if Caoilfhinn should look to her as a mother figure. Caoilfhinn would rather swallow a toad, alive and whole. Morrigan's patronizing smile rankled Caoilfhinn more than the challenge against Jareth had, and she had no doubt that Morrigan had orchestrated the poor failure. "Oh, darling, was that not quite horrid? A challenge on your first centennial. I cannot imagine how distraught you are."

Caoilfhinn shrugged. "I had rather anticipated something of the sort might occur if King Jareth attended." She strove for formal speech, despite the fact that Morrigan did her best to avoid it. "King Jareth did quite spectacularly, did he not?"

Morrigan's ever so slight frown gave Caoilfhinn all the indication she needed. However, her tone was as upbeat as usual. "Why yes, he did. I was pleasantly surprised at how easily he handled that upstart." Caoilfhinn struggled to contain her disbelief. Morrigan had seen Jareth often enough to know his level of skill. That her overly pretentious little pawn had lost the challenge so readily was no more a surprise than the fact Jareth and Sarah could now be seen making their way out the door. Of all the times to abandon her . . .

"I am curious to know who the mortal he has been dancing with all night is. I believe you came in with her?" Morrigan was now openly prying for information Caoilfhinn had no intention of giving her.

Caoilfhinn gave her best noncommittal shrug. "Lady Sarah is a mage who was recently wished away from the Mortal Realm."

Morrigan's bejeweled hand went to her heart in mock empathy. "How awful! And they are so rare among mortals. However, my dearest one, that does not tell me why she is here."

Caoilfhinn sighed, knowing that she would have to relate this innocent little fiction to Jareth later. "King Jareth has been looking for some extra hands to help keep things in order around the castle, you know how those goblins are." Morrigan and Caoilfhinn shared a nod. "Lady Sarah is the first qualified mortal to have been wished away to him, so King Jareth took the opportunity to make her part of the household." Taking a gamble that Caoilfhinn would be sure to make Jareth repay her for later, Caoilfhinn put on the insipid smile that fooled many of the elder Sidhe, Morrigan included. "I do not suppose your grandson is here? I have so been wishing to dance with him." Caoilfhinn suppressed a shudder at the idea of subjecting herself to one of her suitors, but she knew that hiding Sarah's identity was currently more important. When the reveal was ready, Caoilfhinn would never have to worry about dissent in her court again.

Queen Verochiel watched the events of the evening with interest and no little amount of mirth. She had known of Morrigan's orchestration. She had even suggested it. However, the evening's entertainment had begun, not with the duel, but when the little Empress had arrived with an unknown mortal. That, in itself, was not abnormal, but the most humorous way in which the jealous and ever possessive Goblin King had watched like a wolf and then practically snatched the girl from Saoirse's side was. Jareth had not become enamored with any female in quite some time, and it was rather amusing to watch his attempted monopoly of the human throughout the night. Verochiel thought nothing of it, despite the meaningful looks passed between the two. The girl clearly did not have what was required to be one of the Labyrinth's masters, and would likely be another of Jareth's passing fancies.

Nearly as entertaining were the frantic, last minute preparations from Morrigan. The Sidhe, as matronly as any fae could be, danced with no less that five nobles to pass the message along that Jareth was here, and the challenge would be tonight. Once the message was with them, it took at least three more passings to reach Lord Denudaed, Morrigan's pretentious little puppet. He was fairly young and entirely susceptible to Morrigan's entreating words. Verochiel had no doubt that he would be an extremely suitable sacrifice.

The Queen of Brilliant Moon smiled, breaking away from her dance partner when the music stopped. She looked around in time to see Jareth push his mortal play toy into the protective arms of some minor noble, who pulled her over to where the little Empress and her Captain of the Guard stood watching. Verochiel furrowed her brow a little. It would be good to know what the Empress saw in Jareth's mortal, for she evidently saw more than the mere slip of a woman that Verochiel did. Of course, children often perceived things that adults had a more difficult time with, and for all her attempts at proving otherwise, Caoilfhinn was still a child. Not any child, but an Empress.

Verochiel was unsurprised that Jareth chose sabers. He had always excelled at them, and she doubted his magic was truly the combative type. Moments later she was cringing. Lord Denudaed was supposed to fall before Jareth, yes, but Verochiel had been sure Morrigan would choose a boy that actually knew how to use a sword. Though their point was made, so was Jareth's. Jareth would punish any who attempted to take the Labyrinth from him.

Caoilfhinn sounded entirely too exultant at his victory. However, the night was not entirely ruined, for Verochiel knew that it was the pressure from her faction in the court that kept Lord Denudaed's sentence light. It seemed that the little Empress might be useful, but Verochiel knew that her compliance could only be sure with a marriage alliance with one of Verochiel's hand picked suitors for the child. Caoilfhinn should be honored, Verochiel thought, for it had taken an inordinate amount of work and money to get those six suitors into a situation where they would be willing to wed an adolescent.

The fae woman paused, realizing that her careful pondering had let Jareth and his mortal drift out of her sight. No matter, she could still observe the little Empress. She seemed near furious at the disruption of her celebration. Verochiel let out a long sigh as Morrigan approached the Empress. That matronly grimalkin just could not allow an opportunity to gloat pass her by. Though Morrigan would say nothing of her involvement, the little Empress had some sense and would figure it out without issue. There, Verochiel thought as a look of understanding and deep frustration passed over Caoilfhinn's face. Hopefully, though, Morrigan might garner some information from Caoilfhinn. Verochiel considered before turning to offer her Consort her hand. "Come, let us go." Maybe she might eke out some pleasure from the rest of the evening. After all, not all of life was court maneuverings.

Chapter Text

Sarah's dreams that night were plagued with images of Jareth. A horrifying scene of blood and – wait, was that glitter? – ceramic rapiers dyed her vision crimson. Sarah startled awake several times during the night with a cry. Certainly the memory of Jareth's duel was not so terrible that it should haunt her so. He clearly had no issue whatsoever in dispatching the young noble. However, a thought niggled at Sarah. Surely there were others out there that were not so poorly taught as the Lord Jareth had disgraced.

Sarah stared out her window, worry nagging at her mind. Yes, where one noble was willing to challenge Jareth, there would be many more, if not willing to act so drastically, highly at odds with him. That was the cause of her worry, far more than a little display of physical prowess. And so Sarah looked out upon the Labyrinth, hoping to find something to alleviate her distress.

It was something Sarah had learned, that it was never overcast in the Labyrinth. Nevertheless, the dawn had a bleaker quality to it than Sarah was used to. It was as if the entirety of the Labyrinth had felt Sarah's onslaught of melancholy. Sarah leaned into the window for a single grim moment before Mizra burst into the room, a wide grin resplendent across her face. "Empress sends Lady Sarah a dress! Mizra is to dress Sarah like a proper lady today!" Mizra practically beamed her delight at this new, and certainly more gratifying, calling. Her bouncing joy had the shadowy feelings in Sarah's room fleeing, replaced by the goblin maid's contagious enthusiasm.

Sarah managed a weak smile. "So there is to be another party today?"

Mizra dragged Sarah with determination over to the vanity. "Empress says that Lady Sarah is to look her finest for the luncheon today." Mizra's eye took on a near malicious twinkle. "Valkyrie will come to inspect Mizra's work."

Sarah hid a smile. Lizabeth and Caoilfhinn sure knew what to say to make the goblins do their bidding. It was likely a symptom of having been practically raised in the castle, but Sarah still found it amusing. That was, until Mizra presented yet another corset. Sarah's eyes widened. "Um, excuse me? What are you doing with that thing? I thought Lizabeth said no corsets."

Though Sarah had not thought it possible, Mizra's smile widened. "Empress say that loose-laced corset fine for today!"

These words inspired a shudder from Sarah, but before she really understood what was happening, she was grasping the bedpost whilst Mizra carefully tightened the laces on the corset. Sarah had never been in a traditional corset, and was distinctly missing the modern closures that would have made this process a million times more pleasurable. When Mizra was finally done, Sarah was relieved to find she could still take the deep breaths she used when singing, though it taught her the origins of the phrase "heaving bosom". The action also caused Mizra to send a small, yet lighthearted, glare Sarah's direction. The dress today was less sparkling, more suited to a meal than dancing. It was also a beautiful shade of sage green, obviously chosen to bring out the color of Sarah's eyes. It had the same flowing quality as her previous dress, but with fine silver embroidery to replace the beading.

"Empress says Lady Sarah is to do her own hair," Mizra explained in a mournful tone before shoving something into Sarah's hands, "Milady says use this." If Jareth's hair was any indication of what the goblins thought stylish, Sarah was inclined to agree with Caoilfhinn. She would rather come out of this with her precious dark brown hair not looking like that.

With a gracious smile, Sarah took the light silver netting from her goblin maid. "Thank you for your assistance, Mizra. I think I can manage from here." To be entirely truthful, Sarah did not remember much of what Caoilfhinn had done with her hair, but she recalled what it looked like, and could hopefully work from there. It actually took her nearly an hour, or until the 'Hour of Fresh Dew' Sarah thought uncharitably, to figure out how the awful contraption worked. What Sarah did not realize until breakfast was that the time had been a blessing, for the puzzle had kept her mind off the subject of her dreams.

A cloud passed over Sarah's thoughts once again, and her meal with Jareth was less amiable than it usually was now that they were used to each other. Sarah fled as early as she could from Jareth and the unappetizing meal. The way Sarah's rampant imagination kept painting his face with smears of blood was both disconcerting and upsetting, and was rather exacerbated in his presence. Once she had excused herself, Sarah ran – or rather, tried to and was halted within feet by the discomfiture of attempting such a ridiculous thing in a corset – to the rose gardens that had quickly become her haven within the Labyrinth. With a huff, Sarah strode quickly to the very edge of the beautiful place and threw herself down upon the furthest sandstone bench from the castle.

The sun shone brightly on Sarah, warming her shoulders. It had no effect, however, on her soul. Sarah struggled not to sob. What was going on? Why was she so afraid for a pretentious git who was no better than her jailor? Sarah brought her feet up onto the bench, tucking her knees under her chin, wrinkles be damned. Something had clicked last night, and Sarah was unsure what it was and whether she appreciated the fact that it was now part of her.

Resigned to the fact, Sarah admitted it to herself. She did not want Jareth to die. She enjoyed his company, as sardonic and egocentric as it was. Jareth was her friend. Sarah shivered, closing her eyes as she tested the concept. When had this happened? The Sarah of eight years ago would have laughed if someone had told her that she would befriend the Goblin King. Suddenly unfurling her form, Sarah growled in frustration. Now that she thought of Jareth, not as a housemate, but as a friend, Sarah doubted that she could ever rid herself of the horrifying images of him dying.

A hand landed on Sarah's back and she jumped to her feet, heart racing. However, the tumble of blonde curls in the periphery of her vision calmed Sarah. Liz moved around to sit beside Sarah, who slowly relaxed back into her seat. "What has you so downcast, Sarah? You look like you're going to an execution instead of a birthday party."

Allowing her eyes to roam the setting, Sarah sighed. "I just . . . it's that . . ." Sarah groaned, unable to find the right words for once. If Lizabeth were so carefree about this, why did Sarah find it ever increasingly difficult to do the same?

Lizabeth shook her head. "Is this about Uncle Jareth's duel last night? Those things happen all the time in court, Sarah."

Sarah stomped her feet. "This has everything to do with that! I'm just not used to someone trying to kill my," Sarah nearly choked on the strange and newly unpleasant word, "friend." Sarah bit her lip as Lizabeth slid to the ground, crouching in front of Sarah, who was now shaking her head, eyes clear "Jareth could be taken from us at any moment, and I don't exactly have friends to spare."

Liz took Sarah's hand in her own. "Uncle Jareth has been doing this for longer than you can imagine, Sarah. He can deal with a little usurper or two."

Sarah slumped her shoulders, lowering her voice to convey her point. "But Liz, he was so unprepared. He almost got hurt a couple of times. What if he isn't ready next time?"

Liz smiled and pulled away, stepping back and folding her arms. "There is no 'almost' in swordplay, Sarah. Uncle Jareth has the most violent lifestyle of all the Sidhe rulers. He, of all people, should be able to handle the threats posed, especially considering the Labyrinth's magic."

Sarah blinked slowly, suppressing a biting response. She did not understand how Lizabeth could be so cavalier about this. "But there's still the chance"

Sarah jumped back, interrupted as Liz pulled her dagger without warning, holding it out to her side. Liz got it into position just in time to deflect a much smaller bronze knife that glistened with an oily substance. So fast that Sarah could not even find the target, Liz threw her long dagger, hitting the intruder in the shoulder. Sarah finally saw the Sidhe that had camouflaged himself well to blend into the Labyrinth as he dropped his second knife and fell to his knees. Liz was by his side in moments, steel drawn. "Who are you working for?"

The assassin gurgled weakly what seemed to be a laugh. His off-hand went to touch Liz, and was smacked away by the flat of her blade. "I know all about your poison needles, swine. Who sent you?" The Sidhe lurched to his feet, swinging at Liz, who drove her sword into his heart. With a muttered curse, Liz drew in a deep breath. "Caoilfhinn Rébereth! Jareth Goblin King!"

Sarah moved to stand, effectively over her little mood, only to be startled by Liz's barked "Sit." Sarah shakily lowered herself back onto the warm stone bench. "He might not have come alone, and it's easier to protect you if you do not move. Also, that knife is coated in an exceptionally deadly poison. See how the grass shrivels." Indeed, the grass touching the knife was withered and brown.

There was a shower of glitter accompanied by the perfuse scent of spring. Jareth and Caoilfhinn appeared to either side of Sarah, both looking extremely worried. Jareth started interrogating Sarah on her wellbeing even as Caoilfhinn leapt at Liz to check her over. Their panicked breaths of "Are you hurt?" and "You feel okay?" were in sync, making it near impossible for either Sarah or Liz to understand them. Sarah shook while Jareth looked her up and down, searching for any sign of injury.

Liz allowed Caoilfhinn to flick a couple of diagnostic spells at her before bringing the Empress back to task, pointing at the felled knife thrower. "We need to know who he is, and you need to issue a formal court document. Pay attention, Caoilfhinn, I am in fine condition."

Caoilfhinn turned the Sidhe over with her boot. "Could he have been going at you?"

Liz snorted. "When was the last time they sent hired steel against me, Caoilfhinn? No, the knife was good foot to my left, aimed at Sarah. Speaking of which, it will need containment."

Caoilfhinn looked across, to the expanding brown patch of ground, which disappeared with a small flash before she turned her attention back to the Sidhe on the ground. "He's from one of the Minor houses, probably Clear Skies, maybe Birdsong." She furrowed her brow while Sarah and Jareth joined them.

Jareth raised an appreciative eyebrow. "Beautiful work," he muttered, referring to the dagger inserted perfectly into the shoulder joint.

Sarah smirked, thinking of how off kilter Jareth must be to compliment Liz without his usual regal tone. "How did he get into the Labyrinth?"

Both Caoilfhinn and Liz looked expectantly at Jareth. "Well, he probably took the safe shortcut into the outer gardens."

Sarah whipped around to glare at Jareth. "Anyone can use that thing? That's not entirely secure, now is it?"

Jareth was far from pleased, thinking darkly of what could have happened if Lizabeth had not been present. Few Sidhe were clever enough to outsmart the wyrm that guarded that entrance, and it bothered him that this one had. "Believe me, Sarah, I would close it if I could. I curse that passage near daily, if only because that's how Eorlth gets in."

Caoilfhinn shook her head. "Never mind that. We need to get to the palace, and now I have to write a report for the court." Caoilfhinn rubbed at her temple, aggravated. "I will need to use an identification spell, Jareth, so you two should go on without me. I suppose you have someone to take care of the body?"

Jareth sighed, taking Sarah's elbow. "The Labyrinth tends to do that itself these days." Everyone present shuddered. "Are you ready, Sarah?" At her nod, he carried them off to the Imperial Gardens.

Chapter Text

It was with exceeding joy that Sarah joined Jareth on their way back to the Labyrinth after the two-hour celebratory luncheon at the Imperial Palace. Somehow sitting at a table for hours on end with thirty-something Sidhe who droned endlessly about politics was not high on Sarah's list of enjoyable activities. Even being seated across from Saoirse and next to Jareth did little to content Sarah, for many of the elder Sidhe had carefully steered the conversation out of the hands of her friends. However, the time spent there was crucial, for Sarah had the opportunity to observe a great many things that she had not been able to gather at the ball the night before. Eorlth sat near the end of the table, far from the Empress and other higher-ranking nobles, but Sarah had also witnessed a lack of nobles from what she understood to be the lower houses. Eorlth was clearly important to the court, and not just for his spying capabilities.

One thing had caused Sarah to wonder greatly, with more than a little amusement, and that was the number of glances she had intercepted between Eorlth and Saoirse. Eorlth had pretended to ignore the looks, but Sarah had seen the both of them getting increasingly frustrated, Saoirse blushing madly and Eorlth's breathing getting steadily heavier as he pretended to ignore her. By the time Jareth had finally transported the two of them back to the Labyrinth, Sarah had readied a good number of questions for the Goblin King. Knowing that Jareth would probably flee to his study at the first opportunity, Sarah refused to release his arm and put on her most innocent look, desperately hoping to hook him. "Jareth, I'm not sure I understand what's going on with the court."

Jareth turned to Sarah, a slightly tender look on his face for a mere moment before his usual arrogant mask slid over it. "I saw nothing unusual occur. What are you speaking of?"

Sarah sighed at Jareth's obtuseness. Perhaps all of this was fairly ordinary for him, but the Faewilde, and its stupid High Court, was an entirely new experience for her. "Everyone was ignoring Lady Saoirse, like Caoilfhinn was the only sister that existed." After a slight pause, Sarah added, "Except Eorlth." She donned a gleeful smirk with an otherwise musing expression. "I think there's something going on with those two."

That startled Jareth, both Sarah's face and words disconcerting him. Considering Sarah's last thought, Jareth resolved to write Eorlth about the matter. While he had no doubt Sarah was merely imagining things with her young mortal mind, it was better to be safe than wed to the Empress's sister. Verbally, though, he ignored it. "Things have been this way since the twins were about fifteen, and Saoirse tells me she prefers it this way. Though the twins have always been equal in power and cunning, Saoirse has prefers a quieter lifestyle that one cannot receive as a notable part of Court politics."

Still confused, Sarah groaned at Jareth. "But why would the Court go along with it? That's what I don't understand. I've known girls like Saoirse all my life, and I understand how they think. It's the stuck up aristocratic mindset that I'm having trouble grasping."

Amusing wording aside, this was a new perspective for Jareth, who had not questioned the motives of the court once Saoirse had proclaimed herself content. It did no party harm, after all, and rather assisted in Eorlth getting information to the Empress without too much notice. It was also a rather philosophical question, one of Jareth's weaker fields. Trying not to sound hesitant, he offered Sarah the only solution he could think of. "It is a rather long tradition that the Empress have only a single child, one possible heir. The court is likely attempting to overlook yet another tradition broken by the late Empress Cairistíona. Beyond her lineage, Saoirse means little to the court. With the Caoilfhinn's opposition holding so much power in Court, Saoirse does not truly further the social interests of any House she chooses to marry into, beyond bringing them under the scrutiny of the Empress, and the odds of her ascending to the throne are slim, as paranoid as Caoilfhinn is. The court sees no reason to be concerned with Saoirse so long as she makes no stir."

Knowing that Sarah would not stop until her curiosity was sated, Jareth steered Sarah toward the library and changed the topic deftly away from the uncomfortable topic that he had never considered before. "You know, Sarah, the twins were actually remarkably like I was as a child; always asking questions and pushing the limits of knowledge. I was meddling with time before I ever came to the Labyrinth."

The most gratifying, and entirely distracted, gasp escaped Sarah's lips. "You were?" The impact of Jareth's complete statement hit her then. "Wait, you weren't raised in the Labyrinth?"

Jareth shook his head and dropped Sarah's arm to search for a book, glad to have diverted her attention. "I am from a dead House in court. It was rather controversial when the Empress at the time brought me for the Labyrinth to choose from rather than having me marry some mortal and restore my house."

Choosing one of the chairs in the sun, Sarah watched Jareth with interest. "I hadn't gotten that far in the Labyrinth's history. What happened to the previous Goblin King?" Another dynasty change had happened three generations before Oberon. The former line of Goblin Kings had suddenly died out, all of the last generation dying at a young age, within a year of each other.

Jareth haphazardly pulled a couple of tomes from a dusty shelf and joined Sarah by the large window. "Oberon's son died without a Queen, and so it was the Empress's duty to find a few young lads for the Labyrinth to choose it's new King from. None of us were older than thirty at the time." He carefully hid a smirk, basking in her avid attention.

Wincing in pain, Sarah halted in the middle of leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees and returned to her perfect posture. She was beginning to hate this corset. Honestly, it was nothing like the one Sarah remembered wearing on stage as Christine. However, her thoughts still overrode the jabs in her ribcage. "The Labyrinth decides who rules it? Not the goblins, or the Empress?"

Light laughter was Jareth's primary answer. "As if any authority could be assigned without the Labyrinth's consent. It has been tried before." The consequences had been spectacular, to say the least. "The Labyrinth chose me from a selection of boys, as it will choose my Queen from the women I consider."

A chill ran through Sarah. For some reason, this news made Sarah sad. She told herself it was because thought was an awful thought, an arranged marriage for someone she knew. A twinge in Sarah's heart told her that there was more behind that sadness, but she resolutely turned her curiosity back to the matter at hand, "So does that mean that the Goblin Kings before you couldn't reorder time?"

Memories, bittersweet, flooded Jareth at Sarah's words. Yes, he often reordered time for her. More often than he ought to. "That would be correct. Time meddling was, for the most part, a forgotten art. The Labyrinth's Queen has always had a specific time magic in relation with the mortal world, but it is not quite the same thing. You'll find that Caoilfhinn has a similar penchant for magical innovation, with a focus on the illusory magics. Before her experimentation, the most tangible illusions were mine."

"You mean the hallucinogenic drugs?" Sarah interrupted with a raised eyebrow. She would have happily held onto that grudge forever. However, if Caoilfhinn had improved on something already so realistic . . .

Amused, Jareth smirked. "I was going to say dreams, but your wording works just as well. If Caoilfhinn sent an illusion to us now, it would take a good deal of luck to determine that it is not, in fact, her."

These words reminded Sarah of that morning's assassination attempt. She worried her lip, something that Hoggle had said to her coming to her mind. Jareth saw this and was perplexed. His expression softened. "Is there something worrying you Sarah?"

With a small sigh, Sarah voiced her concern. "Back when I thinking about escaping, Hoggle once told me that I posses a strong magic. Is it something I could use against intrusions like that?" Sarah considered, remembering the assassin that had snuck into the Labyrinth. If she could have used magic to see him coming, then Lizabeth may have been able to get his name without killing him. Things could have gone very differently. If Sarah had the magic to do these things, she would fear far less for Jareth's wellbeing. That would take a load of concern off of Sarah's mind, bring her some peace.

Jareth turned away to hide the exultant smile that now spread across his face. This was the Sarah he remembered, the Sarah who had used his own Labyrinth against him to win her baby brother back. She was ever resourceful, always thinking. At times her conclusions were incorrect, but this was not one of those. "You have such admirable goals, Sarah. I could instruct you in the use of magic, if you are willing to make the sacrifices such study will require."

The temptation to look at Sarah when he heard her snort was strong. "It's not like I'm doing much else with my time Jareth, since I can't roam the Labyrinth."

Heart beating rapidly in anticipation, Jareth swiveled and leaned forward on the back of his chair. "When you have learned sufficient magic, we could take fieldtrips into the heart of the Labyrinth. Anywhere you like Sarah." He baited her, knowing she would not be able to refuse. Then, affecting flippancy, he added, "However, I think you may be underestimating the time it would take from your day"

Sarah's eyes widened, thinking of all the gardens she had seen out her window from time to time. A promise like that was well worth any amount of time. Besides, her friends all had other matters occupying much of their time. The only thing that Sarah would be missing would be several hours of reading, time she would rather be spending in a useful manner anyway. "I'm sure I can make the time, Jareth, especially for that."

Many muscles that Jareth had not known were tense suddenly relaxed. Ah, yes, this was definitely the right course of action.

Hours later, Jareth closed his office door with a sigh of relief. He, finally, was alone. To his surprise, his hands shook with emotion he had been suppressing since the attack on Sarah this morning. Anger mixed with fear. How dare they? Those imbecilic little Houses. What gave them the temerity to enter the Labyrinth, his sanctum, and take a swipe at his Sarah?

He needed to calm down.

Had it not been enough to embarrass themselves with that farcical challenge? Was the Goblin King too much for them, and so they had to go after easier targets to hurt him? Jareth went to his window, hands clenching painfully around the sill. How had the assassin gotten past the Labyrinth? That was quite unlike his sentient home. Unless, of course, it had wanted Lizabeth to neutralize the intruder. Jareth closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet, cool wind of night. Teaching Sarah magic might be enough to keep her safe, but he could not risk that, not with the way the Labyrinth had been misbehaving since she had first arrived. That left three choices.

Considering his options, Jareth gazed down at the starlit Labyrinth. Despite the late hour, a wave of Jareth's fingers had the papers on his desk spring to life, jumping into place so that he could conveniently use them after he had cooled his temper. It had been a long time since Jareth had felt the impulse to start throwing around the stronger magics, to maybe cause some temporal shifts for his enemies. Yet he had considered it no less than three times since Sarah had come back to the Labyrinth. He needed to find an outlet for this possessiveness that involved only the paper and ink upon his desk, no curses or greater spells.

Even if a magic peach sounded like a very good idea.

A slow smile spread across Jareth's lips. Birdsong may not have peach orchards, but they did have vineyards. Add just a pinch of untraceable magic, withdraw all Labyrinth revenue. Ah, that would be a sweet revenge. He could bring economic ruin upon them. He would have to find a different source of spirits for the goblins . . . but that would not be so difficult. Jareth sat at his desk, a plan in mind.

It was not much after he had carried out this plan of revenge that Jareth's dark mood returned. Retribution was not enough. He also needed to prepare for future situations like this, and that required one thing he could not give Sarah. He had once considered getting Sarah courtesy lessons to keep her in line. Now she needed them, not to keep her busy, but to keep her alive in this cutthroat Court environment. She needed to understand politics, hierarchies, and there were only three Fae he trusted to teach her about it.

Steeling himself with a sigh, Jareth began the most humiliating missive he had ever written to Caoilfhinn.

Chapter Text

Contrary to Sarah's previous thought, magic lessons took more than just a few hours. They took all morning, every morning, from breakfast until they had lunch an hour past noon. Sarah would have protested this obscene drainage of her time, had she been doing anything but reading and visiting the rose garden with it. Well, that was postulating that she would ever have enough energy to do anything again. Magic was the most ridiculously exhausting subject Sarah had ever been schooled in. The idea seemed so contrary, that sitting while Jareth droned melodically should be so taxing, but it was true.

The first day, Jareth had taken Sarah down to the library to choose some reading material. This was apparently the quickest way for an adult to brush up on the basics. Children were taught games over the course of years, and then had the principles explained to them. It seemed impatient of her, but Sarah didn't want to take two decades to learn about magic. Thus, a large pile of books was stacked next to the pillow pit by her window, and she read them as often as she could.

That, however, did not excuse Sarah from Jareth's odd practical lessons. The first week had been meditation, learning how to calm her mind. In other words, it had been extremely boring, and she had nearly fallen asleep multiple times. However, Jareth had seemed quite happy, nearly gleeful, with her progress, and Sarah had to agree with him. Being half asleep would never have left her so tired if there weren't something else going on. For the last couple of days, they had done this weird yoga thing that made no sense to Sarah at all, and she was unsure as to whether Jareth's grin had been over her 'progress' or the fact that her rear was up in the air. Today though, was something entirely new.

Nothing could make Sarah gladder right now than the fact that Mizra had once again began acquiescing that Sarah was entirely capable of choosing her own clothes for the day, for if Sarah had been in anything even remotely resembling a corset her mood now would be murderous. She was hot and sweating; though the room Jareth had chosen for her magic training was open to the winds that blew through the Labyrinth. If Sarah had been in the confining and rigid boning of a corset, she might very well have fainted from the strain, and that would have been abysmally embarrassing.

Sarah had thought she knew what magic felt like. She had felt it when Jareth altered time, in the pull when he or Caoilfhinn magically transported her. Jareth said that was better than most mortals, but it was not to the degree most Sidhe reached before they began to work with their magic. As such, Sarah was now feeling, more like blindly groping, for the magic within average things from around the Labyrinth. She had succeeded with many of Jareth's handpicked items, such as the rocks Ludo had called into the Goblin City, and the fairy killing spray that Hoggle used. However, she was having a great deal of difficulty with Jareth's now lukewarm cup of tea. So much difficulty, in fact, that she was beginning to wonder if she had been imagining all of her achievements.

With a frustrated sigh, Sarah handed the mug back to Jareth. How did magic involve so much physical energy? "I'm just not getting the tea, Jareth. Are you sure there's magic in it?"

Sipping delicately at his tea, Jareth raised an eyebrow at his pupil. Though her loose shirt that hung from sweat-soaked shoulders, he appreciated watching her in it just as much as the bead-studded dress she had worn to the ball. She was actually moving along quite finely, especially given the consideration she had spent her first two decades of life in a near magicless world. "Of course the tea has magic, Sarah. Even the air we breathe in the Faewilde does, though I'll not make you search for it. It would taste funny forevermore."

Running her fingers through her damp hair, Sarah intoned mournfully, "Why do I find this so difficult? From what Caoilfhinn said, it's natural to the Sidhe." She slumped to the floor, angry and frustrated. Something was wrong with her, something had to be wrong. Maybe Hoggle was the one at fault, for even thinking that she had magic. Maybe everything she had 'felt' was a type of coping mechanism, or something.

Sympathy replaced arrogance on Jareth's expression, and he extended his had to Sarah immediately. "It is like a lowland dweller moving to live among the mountain people or a plainsman roaming the hillsides, Sarah. Your physical form is not yet used to the atmosphere. Fae who live Aboveground for an extended period of time have the same difficulty when they return."

The placating words did little to alleviate Sarah's anger. "That makes me feel so much better." Sarah spit out sarcastically. "I'm no better than a cripple."

Jareth fell to his knees beside Sarah. "Are you giving up, then, when you have mastered the lessons in two weeks that children take years to learn? If that is the case, I am unsure you are the same girl who claimed victory over my Labyrinth eight years ago."

The intention to inflame worked where compassion had not, Jareth's cutting words sending Sarah hurtling to her feet. "I am not giving up," Sarah half-yelled, anger blazing in her eyes.

A tinkling laugh interrupted the two, causing Sarah to spring guiltily away from Jareth. "I most certainly hope not. It would put quite a damper in my plans for the day." Caoilfhinn stood, smirking at the scene before her. "You two look like your morning thus far has been enjoyable."

Sucking in a deep breath, Jareth counted to twenty before turning to deal with his niece. How did she manage to turn up at the least opportune moments he had with Sarah? "Hello Caoilfhinn. What brings you to my castle this fine day?"

From behind Caoilfhinn's shoulder, Lizabeth raised a thin, pink book. "Court etiquette lessons," the Amazonian woman said with a grin. The book was then waved about in a merry manner, as if Liz was entirely ignorant of the frustration from the room's other occupants.

Jareth sighed, tired of the insinuations that he had forgotten how to comport himself in court. "I am not so backwards in my manners that you need deliver a children's book on the subject. There are plenty of complete works in the library."

Caoilfhinn raised an incredulous eyebrow at her uncle, while in a deadpanned tone explaining, "I thought it might be best to start Sarah out on the basics. Besides, how old are those manuals? I would bet that they date before Oberon. I assume you two would like a chance to clean up from your magic lessons, so Lizabeth and I will just pop off to the library."

With an affronted glare at the intruders, Sarah stalked away from the Sidhe, muttering as she went. For all that Sarah really wanted to learn magic, it was incredibly difficult, rather like the time she had taken a ballet class in college. That had not gone very well at all, and Sarah's feet ached at the mere thought of her complete lack of skill. However, Sarah had endured the entire semester of bleeding feet and ungraceful landings, and she was not going to let the taxation of magic stop her from doing the same in this situation. Thankful for the more modern amenities in her bathroom, Sarah washed up and changed into clean clothes, all the while wondering why Caoilfhinn would suddenly decide she needed to learn etiquette.

As Sarah made her way through the castle, the sounds of a vehement argument floated down the halls, drifting in and out with the lilting accents of the contending fae and accompanied by the low pacifying words of Lizabeth. It was a simple matter for Sarah to locate the mobile library with such a trail to follow. Jareth and Caoilfhinn fell silent the moment Sarah opened the library door, turning urgently to gaze upon her. Such a welcome reminded Sarah of times when, as an errant child, her parents would find her hand in the cookie jar after she had been tucked into bed. "What's going on?"

Turning a glare upon Caoilfhinn, Jareth responded to Sarah's inquiry. "Caoilfhinn and I are discussing the best way for you to be educated in the matters of Court. I do not wish to submit you to an excessively rigorous curriculum."

A far from amused glance was leveled at Jareth, Sarah speaking in a low, aggrieved tone. "I'm not sure anything could be much more tortuous than the last two hours, Jareth." Could his magic lessons be called anything but rigorous?

Mouth turned down into a frown, Jareth waved his hand. "Ah, but you desired to learn magic, and in the fastest way possible. The lessons Caoilfhinn and I were discussing are more than just etiquette, Sarah. You would learn about Court posturing, intrigue, and how to do it yourself." He looked grave, Sarah realized. He did not like court in the first place, and now he was suggesting that she learn the keys to working as a functional member of it.

"And fencing. Sarah should learn fencing," Liz piped up, from the door. Jareth merely looked shocked that he had not gotten the idea first, while Caoilfhinn wrinkled her delicate nose in distaste.

Something was going on, something very exceptionally serious for Jareth to both allow anything related to Court into their daily lives, and agree to having her learn how to fight. Jareth's motives, at least, she could understand. Perhaps he thought that the assassination attempt was not just a one-time thing. Sarah might have to be able protect herself, because he could not be everywhere in the Labyrinth. Caoilfhinn, though, had Sarah extremely confused. Caoilfhinn had been extremely helpful thus far, well beyond the point of her limited selflessness. Sarah knew that Caoilfhinn stood to gain something from her training. Sarah's gaze went to Lizabeth, wondering if she would receive any information from the blonde bodyguard. However, Liz looked just as grim, and equally as tight-lipped. "I have no issue with taking the lessons, but I would like to know why."

Caoilfhinn looked to Jareth for guidance, knowing that it was up to him what Sarah did and did not know about their situation. Jareth took a deep breath, considering. "Caoilfhinn is in need of extra support within the court, namely mine, and after the attack, I think would be safest if you accompanied me to the functions which require my attendance." Even Sarah could hear that this was, while true, not quite the real motivation. Though she was frustrated at his refusal to proffer something she was sure was crucial knowledge, Sarah pretended to be content with Jareth's words.

Sighing in relief, Caoilfhinn nodded in pleased acknowledgement of Sarah's decision. "So, Jareth, you are instructing her in the magical arts? I am so glad. You are the best tutor she, or anyone for that matter, could have. However, I was considering Sarah's courtesy lessons, and I thought that it would be best if Eorlth helped teach them," Caoilfhinn ignored Jareth's indignant squawk, "as he is the only one who truly understands what is going on in matters of intrigue. Saoirse can get away from the court more often than I can, and she is quite adept at explaining things, especially etiquette, so she ought to be Sarah's main tutor." Sarah attempted to contain her amusement at Jareth's increasingly dismayed expression. "The real question is whom can best impart swordplay."

Despite Sarah's significant glances toward Lizabeth, she was entirely ignored. After some silence, Lizabeth said, "Captain Braldrr was invaluable in my lessons, and when I am here I could assist in displays." At Sarah's incredulous look, Liz continued. "My strength lies in besting others, not providing an encouraging environment."

The two Sidhe nobles nodded in agreement that seemed to come from personal experience. "Is all that to your satisfaction, Uncle Jareth?"

"Entirely." Jareth had to admit, even if he did not like the idea of Eorlth spending time with Sarah, or Saoirse corrupting her, they were indeed the best people for a crash course on the High Court.

Sarah blinked, still hung up on one tiny detail. "Wait. I'm going to be taking sword lessons from something no taller than my knee?" This was going entirely too quickly for her taste. Lessons, lessons, lessons. She had thought school was well behind her.

Smiling widely, Jareth walked over to put a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "His ferocity more than makes up for his size, but you are right. That is why you will learn from him, but train with me." For some reason, this caused Sarah to flush bright red. It was not a blush, she told herself. That would be silly.

Standing beside Sarah, as if to demonstrate a unified front, Jareth turned to deal with Caoilfhinn. "You have spoken with Eorlth and Saoirse about this?" Anticipating the assent, Jareth continued, "I assume you brought a hypothetical schedule for all this running about."

Caoilfhinn responded with a grin. "Of course I did, Uncle Jareth. No one has ever said I was unprepared."

Chapter Text

Weeks passed, flying by faster than Sarah could count them. Well, the latter was a lie, it had been seven and a half weeks, but Sarah was so busy that she rarely thought about the passage of time but for the few times of the day when she actually had a moment or two to hold still. While keeping her busy, her magic lessons had . . . not really gone much of anywhere, to her chagrin. Jareth's grin decreased with each passing day, and Sarah was positive that he was starting to get irritated at her lack of improvement. She wondered, sometimes, if perhaps she had been wrong in thinking that she had ever possessed magic.

Sarah's other lessons, however, had been going fantastically. She enjoyed swordplay, even if Jareth tended to thoroughly trounce her every time they practiced. More importantly, she could see that she was getting better at it. Lizabeth and Caoilfhinn had visited once, during a lesson with Braldrr one afternoon, and Lizabeth had even smiled. The courtesy lessons were also progressing well, though Sarah had to admit she was not enjoying them nearly as much. They had started with the very basics of the High Court; what every Sidhe already knew, no matter how poor or lowly. They had finally, recently, started to get into the machinations which perplexed Sarah so, though Saoirse and Eorlth had both insisted on beginning at the bottom, with the lowliest houses. Sarah trailed down the stairs from her latest failed magic lesson, a frown on her face as she considered just how different her life had become.

The Labyrinth was in desperate need of a whiteboard. Sarah was unsure of where Eorlth had obtained the chalkboard he was currently using, but the squeak of dry chalk was near unbearable. At least Saoirse and Jareth had sufficient magic to use the monstrosity with a thrown handful of chalk powder. Eorlth had to save what magic he had for less wasteful purposes, and so was left with making Sarah's mistreated ears bleed while he drew complicated diagrams of court intrigue.

Saoirse watched Eorlth map out court relations with a small smile on her face, and blushingly corrected him when she disagreed. Her manner with Sarah was far more direct, explaining the proper etiquette surrounding each of Eorlth's sample situations without hesitation or qualification. Sarah thought that the two made a fantastic pair of instructors, and it was a great combination to learn their two lessons side by side. The policies and politics of court contextualized the protocol for dealing with other members of the court, while Saoirse's explanations of politesse helped Sarah understand how many of the court alliances came to be. However, Sarah rather doubted that her convenience of learning was the reason Saoirse always arrived within ten minutes of Eorlth.

The first lesson Eorlth had scheduled for Sarah's benefit had been within a week of Caoilfhinn attempting, and rather failing, to set a biweekly schedule with them, and Saoirse had appeared no more than five minutes before he had with a large grin on her face, and had looked far from surprised when Eorlth put in his appearance. It seemed that, as much as Eorlth was the Court's most effective intelligence gatherer, with unparalleled resources and spying abilities, Saoirse was clearly a capable snooper herself. Due to her duties as the Head Accountant for the High Court, Saoirse was able to divine to location and activity of any member of the court at any time. This was no magical matter, (well, it might have been, a little, but Saoirse refused to admit it) but the scribes and accountants had their own method of procuring information. Though Sarah attempted to broach her theory behind Saoirse's behavior with Jareth on many occasions, her ideas were generally laughed off.

"Actually, the marriage between the two Houses began because Birdsong's vineyard has been having some issues," Saoirse pointed out, speaking of the dowry negotiations between Birdsong and Great Awakening, "They'd already been having a bad decade when some sort of fungus hit a couple of moons back." Eorlth had thought it an attempt to improve the associations between the two Houses and strengthen the foundation of the resistance against Caoilfhinn. While those reasons were considerations, Saoirse felt the need to express the true cause.

Eorlth cocked his head at Saoirse. "I had not heard that. They have been selling the wine in their usual quantities, and I thought at the same price." Sarah watched their back-and-forth with interest, loving to hear the two discuss theory.

With a smile, Saoirse shook her head. "Excepting the Labyrinth's expected withdrawal as a major client, Birdsong has been selling as normal. The problem is that the House has had much increased expenses to keep their vineyards and winery running, even with a highly psychoactive mold growing on their vines. Birdsong did not wish for the Major Houses to know of their financial troubles, and so have been passing small bribes to the Head of Great Awakening to keep the matter quiet while they arranged a solution." Eorlth was nodding in comprehension. "It slipped their minds, however, that the High Court keeps an account of taxes from sales, which is how I found most of this out. You know Birdsong, Lady Rosalyn and her Lord Husband Duncan like to pretend their House has no troubles."

Shock evident on his face, Eorlth nodded. "True, that. So they have sent no bribes your way, then?" He tsked, "How forgetful."

Amusement was evident on Saoirse's expression. "I am but an auxiliary of the Court. Even if they did remember, they do not acknowledge my existence; much less send pretty presents my way to keep my lips sealed. No, I may tell who I wish, Eorlth."

Sarah had watched the latter half of exchange with a small, knowing smile. She had seen this behavior before, with her mortal friends, and it was clear that both Jareth and Eorlth were unaware of the inner workings of Saoirse's mind. Sarah was entirely content to wait it out, leaving them in darkness until Saoirse's plan came into fruition. Meanwhile, it was her obligation to learn all that they were attempting to teach her. As they turned back to the lesson, Eorlth's diagram continued to grow and become more complicated, and there were simply not enough colors of chalk to demonstrate the relationships in a coherent manner. Sarah was definitely going to have to suggest a whiteboard. She pondered for a moment if Jareth would even know what a whiteboard was. If not, the entirety of the Faewilde would soon be enlightened.

It seemed as if it would be quite a while before they even reached the nuances of Court that most perplexed Sarah, the plots concerning the Kings and Queens, the attempts at taking the Labyrinth from Jareth. She pondered, wondering if maybe Jareth had told Eorlth to keep that from her. It would be just like the obnoxious prat to do something like that. Was it to protect her? Or was it because such actions gave Jareth a semblance of control over her? The one thing Sarah had learned in the course of her magic lessons was how little Jareth actually controlled within the Labyrinth. He contained the chaos, yes, and he could command things to do as he wished, but the Labyrinth was its own entity, and did not always do things the way Jareth wanted. Perhaps it was nice to have something he could control.

A harsh, "Sarah?" brought her back to task, focusing on the goings on of Court rather than her home.

Sometime later, Sarah lay by the window in her room, a book on magic in her lap. Somehow, in the last ten minutes of her lesson with Saoirse and Eorlth, the subject of magic in Court contexts came up, and it had left her both feeling both angry and like she was failing everyone. They all agreed with Jareth and Hoggle that she had magic, and while one or two could be wrong, Sarah rather doubted that all five of them were. That, and her Goblin maid, Mizra, was adamant whenever Sarah asked, and she had yet to be wrong about anything else.

So, Sarah had decided, she actually probably did have magic. What, then, was keeping her from actually doing anything with it? It was this thought that had driven Sarah back to the books she had been ignoring entirely for the last four weeks. After some heavy duty research, which she acutely missing having a librarian to assist her with, Sarah had finally reached a passage that could, maybe, pertain to her predicament.

It has been postulated that, to intentionally use his innate magic, a Fae must first securely know himself. Though outbursts prior to this phenomenon are common, the Fae does not understand the powers he manipulates before this point.

What the hell did that mean? Securely know herself? Sarah harrumphed, massaging her aching temples. Why could none of these thrice-damned elves use straightforward language?

Chapter Text

The next three days passed in a bore of a blur, Sarah's magic lessons failing to improve much. Jareth had taken to spending his free afternoons in his study, leaving Sarah to her own devices if Saoirse and Eorlth weren't there to drill an insane amount of knowledge into her mind. To top that, they had argued all through lunch. In itself, that was not an unusual occurrence, but this time had been much worse than usual, to the point that Sarah had stormed out before she had finished eating. Sarah had, rather than head to the rose garden where Hoggle worked or the gate that Didymus operated, ran up and up, as far as she could.

Sarah was just beginning to pant when the castle rather suddenly ran out of stairs. How high she was, Sarah could not tell, for the short hallway she had stumbled upon had glazed windows. Her anger at Jareth forgotten, Sarah slowly advanced upon the single door, a portal made of brightly varnished wood at the end of the hall. Something drew her there, and it was more than mere curiosity. With endless care, Sarah turned the ornate handle, and pushed the door open as quietly as she could into a well cared for sitting room. Though it had an air of disuse, there was scarcely a mote of dust in the feminine space. Sarah took in the rosy family paintings, interspaced between large, ornate windows. A delicate, but empty tea set was laid out with a book on a cherry wood coffee table, and in the corner was what appeared to be a functioning model of the Labyrinth with more books underneath.

Sarah went over to the model and stared as its passageways and courtyards shifted around endlessly, shuffling around a miniature castle. There was no pattern that she could discern, but the thing was amazing without attempting to analyze it. The whistling of a particularly strong wind against the bright windows brought Sarah back to her senses, and she went over to the table and picked up the book that was upon it. Just inside the cover was an inscription.

To my dearest friend Hecate,

I know you have been searching for many of these past years for this treatise between the two Ancient and Noble Houses of Brilliant Moon and Darkest Night. Knowing that the latter is your House by birth, though not through marriage, you have expressed curiosity in what ties the two Houses together despite their conflicting interests. I do hope this may be of assistance to you and your progeny in understanding some of the more complicated matters of the High Court.

Your ally and childhood comrade, Athena

Sarah read through the note twice more before turning the page. While far from fascinating, this was just the type of thing Sarah had been yearning, and failing, to find in Jareth's library. The treatise itself was in a very old form of English, and Sarah only read through a line or two before setting the book down and heading over to the shelf below the model of the Labyrinth. She looked inside the cover of a few more books, all belonging to former Queens of the Labyrinth, before she came to the conclusion that this was probably the Queen's study and sitting room. Many of the books held references to politics, others held the Fae version of fairytales. The sun was very low in the sky when, having barely pulled a dusky purple volume out from the shelf, there was a bright flash of light from the model. Book still closed, Sarah straightened, holding the book in one limp hand, and watched a little fleck of light, barely larger than a speck of dust, zoom in from the edge of the Labyrinth and enter the castle near Jareth's quarters. Perhaps a letter, Sarah wondered, grinning at the model's new trick.

Sarah had just returned her attention to the tome in her lap and read 'Queen Titania's Journal of Magick' on the title page when a goblin came rushing in, breathing hard. "King need Lady Sarah."

Without a second thought, Sarah picked herself and the book up, and followed the little goblin down the stairs.

Sarah's pleasant mood waned the moment she saw Jareth's drawn face. It was not her anger with him returning, but apprehension at what this new expression might mean, especially with an Imperial writ in his hand. It glowed faintly still, the same color as the mote she had seen on the Labyrinth model upstairs. Jareth did not look up as she entered the throne room, frowning instead at the floating document and absentmindedly playing with one of his crystals.

It was a long moment before Sarah spoke. "Jareth? What does it say?" The dusky purple journal in her hand slipped a little as she nearly forgot she was holding it.

Jareth took a long breath, his mismatched eyes refocusing on Sarah with a pained quality. "It's from Caoilfhinn." His tone showed just how unfocused he was, worried and quiet.

"Jareth?"

It took a moment, but Jareth's vision seemed to sharpen, and the crystal disappeared. "Ah, Sarah. We will be going to Court." A sardonic grin spread across his face. "Caoilfhinn seems to have issues with keeping a handle on her subjects." Sarah suppressed a snort. As if Jareth could say anything on that front. "There is an important property dispute that she would like to be settled fairly, which she thinks requires my presence these days." Jareth rolled his eyes. "And you are not going to be left here alone." That last statement was carried with a harsh tone.

Sarah's lips thinned as she remembered what had happened the last time they had gone to court. It had left more of mark on her mind than one assassin. "When?"

Jareth scoffed, waving one gloved hand. "Tomorrow, of course. Caoilfhinn is not one to give advance warning. We will leave shortly after breakfast." His cloak did a half-hearted, though entirely deliberate swish, bringing a slight smile to Sarah's lips. "Until dinner, Sarah," he said as he turned and attempted to stalk from the room, stumbling only twice over tiny goblins.

Sarah was about to drop dead out of boredom. There were only two things saving her from such a fate, and neither was particularly pleasant. The first was Saoirse's whispered advice, delivered in a stern tone as they had entered, to stay silent and fairly invisible behind Jareth's throne as Lizabeth was doing. They would treat her like a servant, and give her no notice. The other was the acidic glare Lizabeth sent at her every time her mind began to wander too far, telling Sarah that she had been noticed. Notice from the seven most powerful people in the Faewilde sounded like a very bad thing right now.

To better follow Saoirse's instructions on escaping the attention of the enthroned Sidhe, Sarah was thinking about her most recent magic lessons with Jareth, trying to figure out what that book had meant when it said she had to 'securely know' herself. She found herself doubly disgruntled at vague Fae language, as she considered both the book and the droning man they were all pretending to listen to. Sarah had already tried feeling for the magic, as she had during Jareth's lessons, and gotten no further than Jareth's throne when Lizabeth had sent her the most vicious glare yet, which had sent Sarah on her current theoretical tangent. When she could feel magic without actively seeking it out, Sarah was sure she would have been quite able to sense the magic in the room without receiving that dirty look, which only made her feel worse for her lack of progression.

In front of her, the Minor Houses were debating the repercussions and possible solutions of a border dispute between two of the Major Houses. Thankfully, the Major Houses had less ridiculous names than the Minor Houses, and so Sarah could actually remember that Golden Sun and Twilight were both claiming a small village comprising about three hundred Sidhe and fifty adopted humans. Some house with a name out of a romance novel was currently arguing that Twilight should get the village, and Caoilfhinn's eyebrows were nearly hidden within her hair out of disbelief for the outrageous reasoning. Sarah imagined that they were thinking the same thing about the ridiculousness of the logic, which currently had something to do with Fibonacci and cattle. Thank goodness they would have to endure half an hour of this absurd speaker.

Once that speech was finished, Caoilfhinn gave an imperious nod, hiding her annoyance poorly. "Are there any more minor houses who wish to voice their opinion?"

After a barely concealed, encouraging nod from Queen Verochiel, whom was now featuring quite unfavorably in Sarah's thoughts, a young noble from another house who sounded like a part of a cliché chick flick stepped forward, and began a long-winded droning of his reasoning concerning the matter. Having been listening to this drivel for nearly an hour and a half already, Sarah was beginning to think that Sidhe were in desperate need of therapists, as had already been showcased by Jareth's behavior in the months since her arrival. Her attention began to wander yet again as the boy reiterated the previous courtier's points, thankfully without the strange livestock mathematics, and slid instead over the whispering audience and sleepy Kings and Queens to either side of Caoilfhinn. Liz tensed, drawing Sarah's attention back to the courtier, who had stepped closer to the dais while she had not been looking. A very deliberate flick of his wrist sent a single white glove flying to the foot of Caoilfhinn's throne, but the Lord kept on speaking while Sarah, and almost everyone she could see, gaped openly at his actions. Some gasps, like Verochiel's, seemed purely theatrical.

Caoilfhinn stared down at the glove that had been 'accidentally' dropped at her feet with her mouth in a harsh line. A glance at Caellach confirmed the Empress' assumption, that this was another passive challenge. To be quite frank, Caoilfhinn was tired of the opposing faction performing these horrendously impertinent slights against her. This was no less than the thirty-sixth so called 'passive challenge' on her. They often used this tactic to remind Caoilfhinn that they controlled more Houses than she did when she was doing something they did not like. Their openly seditious actions numbered at two-hundred and forty-nine, including these challenges. To be quite honest, Caoilfhinn was sick of it. She was exhausted of having her only recourse be a screamed ranting at Lizabeth.

The Empress sent another glance at Jareth, whose look of sheer boredom had been replaced with dumbstruck horror at what her court was able to get away with, with Sarah sporting the same expression from behind his throne. Certainly they now understood why Caoilfhinn always lamented that she could not bog courtiers, as well as certain well-worded passages in Eorlth had included in his correspondence. If one faction was showing open rebellion, things had devolved quite badly. His shock confirmed yet again to Caoilfhinn that this was most definitely a challenge.

The glove had fallen slightly to the left of Caoilfhinn's center, and as her large throne was placed between the lesser ones of King Caellach and Queen Verochiel, Caellach made a motion as if to pretend the challenge was for him. Caoilfhinn, however, stayed him with a gesture. Jareth's eyes widened, wondering if things had gone so far that Caoilfhinn would let the challenge pass. Certainly Eorlth had told him that Caellach had always answered it for her thus far . . . or something like that. He really ought to read that drivel more often. Caoilfhinn rose slowly, making Lizabeth's eyes bug out in resistance to what the Empress was about to do. The entire court looked on with increasing surprise, murmuring quietly.

"I, Empress Caoilfhinn of the line Rébereth, accept Lord Aroin of the House of Moonlit Strolls' challenge." Caoilfhinn's voice was strong and harsh, full of anger. Two from the court chimed in, witnessing that the tossed glove had been deliberate, as was the custom for a nonverbal challenge. "Lord Aroin and I shall meet in the circle with Combat Magic and shall fight to the death."

Chapter Text

"I, Empress Caoilfhinn of the line Rébereth, accept Lord Aroin of the House of Moonlit Strolls' challenge." Caoilfhinn's voice was strong and harsh, full of anger. Two from the court chimed in, witnessing that the tossed glove had been deliberate, as was the custom for a nonverbal challenge. "Lord Aroin and I shall meet in the circle with Combat Magic and shall fight to the death."

If anything, Caoilfhinn's proclamation caused even more of a stir throughout the court than her acceptance of the challenge. Even Sarah knew that challenging the Empress was punishable by death, but none had ever made it a term of their duel since Athena. Well, according to Saoirse. It was fitting, however, for Caoilfhinn seemed to be attempting to remodel her ideal incorrupt court after Athena's example: by cutting out the infestation with all the discretion of a hatchet. However, Sarah had read that after Athena's death, the reappearance of corruption had led to Combat Magic being one of the Arts 'untraditional' for Empresses to learn. In other words, forbidden in all but law. It was likely a sentiment she had learned from Jareth, but from what Sarah could see, Caoilfhinn didn't have much respect for 'tradition'. Caoilfhinn knew the atmosphere of her court, and no magic was safe from her inquisitive mind. And if Aroin had not practiced the Combat Magic, it was hardly Caoilfhinn's fault that he skipped over such an important part of his magical education. This was another thing Sarah had learned from Saoirse. One of the risks a Fae made in declaring a challenge, was that your opponent could, and often would, choose something you utterly fail at. His had been the last straw, and if Caoilfhinn had declared any other method, everyone knew that Liz would have flayed her alive for it. Combat Magic the only real choice for Caoilfhinn, for she was not the best swordswoman, and Lizabeth would never allow her Empress to take suck a vacuous risk.

Lord Aroin looked first to Queen Eibhlín, then to Queen Verochiel, pleading for their assistance with his gaze. He had expected to take on Caellach, who almost never fought to the death and preferred the rapier. He was more than a little rusty with his Combat Magic. However, the Queens dared not outright usurp the Empress, for while obvious slights from the lower Houses might be allowable, the entirety of the High Court enjoyed the pretense and illusion of unity, and the queens would not betray that tradition to save a minor noble. Resigned, Aroin had no choice but to give in. He straightened, gathering every shred of his dignity that remained to answer with a strong, unwavering voice. "Our match will take place in the courtyard at noon."

Eibhlín's voice, with cruel disdain, was the first to condemn Aroin. "I, Queen Eibhlín of the House of Dusk witness that the duel is set." Other witnesses followed, clamoring in great numbers until nearly the whole High Court had turned against the unfortunate young man. It was a cruel turn of fate, that he be the one to cause Caoilfhinn to snap.

As soon as custom would allow, Aroin ran off, solemn and confused, to contemplate what plan could work this challenge out in his favor. Furious, Caoilfhinn motioned off the rest of the court until it was just she, the six Kings and Queens, Sarah, and Lizabeth remaining in the sun-lit room. As soon as the last courtier had adjourned from the room, a commotion broke out between the Heads of the Great Houses. As it became increasingly difficult to hear, they each raised their voices to be better heard by the silent, standing Empress. Jareth sat resting his chin on steepled fingers, listening to the hubbub with a proud smirk.

Caoilfhinn strode off, toward the great glass wall that gave them an unparalleled view of the gardens. When she turned around her sub-rulers fell quiet, watching their Empress warily. Caoilfhinn's voice was hoarse with suppressed anger. "You have exhausted my patience with these schemes against me. I am sorry to inform you all that I will not be wedding any of the six suitors that you have wielded in an attempt to control me through my young and inexperienced emotions. Nor will I any longer permit such blatant disrespect for me." Caoilfhinn sighed heavily, taking care not to raise her voice. "What all of you but Jareth have forgotten is that I am not a little girl, a puppet Empress. I was brought up by my mother to wisely rule the Sidhe. I have not and will never fall for your machinations."

Sarah watched with a proud smile that rivaled Jareth's. It was awe-inspiring, hearing Caoilfhinn rebel against her amoral would-be controllers. Nanirie, whom Sarah knew to be a supporter of Caoilfhinn, leaned forward in her small throne with a consoling expression. "But, Caoilfhinn, the Combat Magic? No Empress since Athena"

Caoilfhinn gave a tiny, warning shake of her head. "With the way my own court acts toward me? I acted only out of self-preservation." Her tone was acidic, gaze leveled toward Verochiel.

A motherly, half-placating sound came from Morrigan's mouth. "But darling, you have a guard with War Magic." There was panic in the Queen's eyes.

With a twitch of his lips and a derisive snort, Jareth inserted himself into the conversation with a low drawl. "One that you were loath to let her have. You know as well as I that a War Mage can do nothing against combat spells. From what I have seen in my few recent visits, I support Caoilfhinn's decision to approach alternate methods of insuring her safety."

Verochiel turned to regard Jareth with an imperiously raised eyebrow. "That is no less than what I would expect from the man who gives in to the Empress's every whim." The verbal battle that ensued roiled around Sarah, though she was lost in the sea of shouting near immediately. All she could think was that the idea of Jareth being at Caoilfhinn's beck and call was laughable. Sarah could remember their many arguments over the last month alone, some of which where Jareth had actually claimed victory. The three queens to Caoilfhinn's right were providing supposed evidences for Verochiel's accusation, such as the fact that Jareth had only been to court once before Caoilfhinn was born, and much more frequently following. Certainly in their eyes, the argument was valid.

Jareth's snort resulted in another tense quietude. "I like to pick my battles, Verochiel. Just because I came to a realization of my duties as the Goblin King, and support the Empress against your ilk does not mean she has me wound around her finger. I do nothing but support what will make for a better Empress. That is no reason to libel me."

Though the three opposing Queens were seething, probably ready to strangle Jareth, Nanirie nodded at his words. "I agree with Caoilfhinn, and you all know this has little to do with Jareth's interference. I know that I would feel insecure if my home court were allowed the freedom this court has experienced since Cairistíona's death. We should be acting like the High Court, not a haggle of pouting schoolchildren who dislike the newcomer." Morrigan squeaked in dismay, taking offense at Nanirie's wording. "We all have our grandiose plans, but what would happen if the common Fae began rebelling openly against us as we have been against Caoilfhinn? We must needs set an example, and keep our plottings respectful and quiet as they always have been. Perhaps then our Empress would not feel the need to learn dangerous magics, and we might actually have a chance to get at our prizes."

Though Nanirie's intentions seemed respectable, Sarah had to fight down alarm. Was Nanirie truly saying that they ought to make their overt plots secret instead? Would that not merely put Caoilfhinn in more danger? For some reason, everyone was nodding, even Jareth. Sarah wanted to make her voice heard, but Lizabeth's glare threatened unspeakable tortures at Caoilfhinn's hand should Sarah utter a sound. She was there strictly to observe, and so long as she remained unspeaking, as Lizabeth did, the Heads of the Great Houses would continue to hardly note her presence. This confused Sarah even more, because Liz, of all people, should have been putting Caoilfhinn's safety before Sarah being noticed. While the two human traded glares, Morrigan, Eibhlín, and Verochiel held a whispered exchange, frowning and nodding. When they pulled away, Verochiel stood slowly and grimly offered her hand to Caoilfhinn. "I suppose that arrangement is satisfactory for us all."

Unsuccessfully attempting to swallow a triumphant grin, Caoilfhinn shook Verochiel's hand. "Then I apologize for interrupting that border dispute by accepting the challenge. We can return to business directly afterwards. Now, though, I think that it may be a good time to arrange ourselves in the courtyard. Lizabeth, will you tell the servants we will require six – no, seven – chairs on the edge of the circle? If you will all excuse me, I have preparations to make." Caoilfhinn's departure signaled the rest to shuffle outside.

Once they were in the hallway, Sarah dragged Jareth off into an empty closet. Well, empty of Fae, anyway. There was a bucket and a couple of mops. "Explain." Sarah's voice was grim, and she demanded to understand immediately.

A grin spread slowly across Jareth's lips. "Your actions will certainly cause much talk in the court." Sarah raised an eyebrow and waited, blockading the door from Jareth's efforts, until he huffed impatiently and answered. "This court's largest fault was in underestimating how much Cairistíona and I taught Caoilfhinn. They have been rather, lacking, in respect."

Sarah nodded, waving her hand impatiently at stuff she already knew. "No one listens to Caoilfhinn because they think of her as a kid. I still don't see how substituting this disrespect for secret ploys is any better."

Jareth raised a shocked eyebrow, though his wide grin remained. "It is infinitely better. If the dissent is no longer evident for all the Faewilde to see, then the minor houses will likely redistribute themselves to even out the factions, and the plots will lose momentum."

Sarah gave up, waving her hands again in frustration. Jareth was simply not getting her point. "But Caoilfhinn won't know what they are up to!"

Jareth grin turned a little dark. "My dear Sarah, Caoilfhinn has not only Eorlth, but Lizabeth and Saoirse feeding her information. No one has a better intelligence web than she. Caoilfhinn already knows their every stratagem, and that will not change merely because they show a pleasant face to the High Court. Now come, her duel is set to start in ten minutes. Perhaps you could let us out, unless you had something more pleasant in mind?"

Throwing him a disgusted look as she realized why the Goblin King was grinning, Sarah raised a hand to halt Jareth's advance. "That's another thing. Why did Caoilfhinn decide to the death?"

Jareth smirked. "That is simple. First blood is terrifically difficult to call with Combat Magic. The boy will die anyway, so it is better to kill him than have the match called fallaciously in his favor."
Sarah shuddered, opening the door and allowing Jareth to follow her out. As they were walking she whispered in his ear, causing his grin to widen impossibly far. "But that's awful! I can't imagine Caoilfhinn would want to kill anyone."

At the impact of Sarah's somber words, Jareth grimaced quickly. "I doubt she does, but all Sidhe have or will. As you'll recall, Liz does so without hesitation. You may have to learn to do the same. Though I doubt there will be a formal challenge within the High Court for a great many decades." With this, Jareth grasped Sarah's arm and steered her through a few more corridors and out into the sunshine. Despite his nonchalant words and pleased expression, Jareth was slightly worried. Did Caoilfhinn truly have any idea of what she had done? While truly skilled Combat Mages were few and far between, death was still a possibility for her, especially since cheating increased as the stakes did. He had succeeded in placating Sarah, though he still had doubts of his own.

For some reason, Sarah felt better the instant they stepped into the sun. The other members of the High Court were already seated in the wooden chairs placed strategically around the circle, and Sarah spotted Lizabeth and Caoilfhinn holding a muttered argument by Saoirse's seat, near the last open chair. It looked as if Caoilfhinn had changed into a dress with half as much fabric as her former one, and sleeves cropped short so that they would not interfere with gestures. As they moved closer, Sarah began to hear their voices, if not understand their words. Presently Jareth took his seat, and the dark-haired Sidhe that had thrown his glove at Caoilfhinn's feet stepped into the circle, looking rather nervous. Sarah was beginning to think she rather disliked this awful tradition. It felt like she was at the Coliseum, waiting to watch gladiators beat each other into the ground.

As close as Sarah could tell, the sun was directly above them. A few moments later, Caoilfhinn broke away from Lizabeth and stepped into the circle. For a moment there was a shimmer like the air above a flame between Sarah and the contestants, but it faded. Jareth leaned closer to Sarah to whisper, "That was the audience's shield going up so that none of the spells harm any outside the circle."

A moment later Lizabeth was at Saoirse's side, clutching the top of her chair with white knuckles. For moments there was nothing, and then Saoirse, the hostess in Caoilfhinn's absence, sent a reverberating call toward the sky. Still, however, there was little movement within the dueling circle. Finally, Sarah saw Lord Aroin flick one of his wrists. The only responding movement from Caoilfhinn was the cocking of her head, but the crowed groaned, elated at Aroin's failure to harm their Empress.

There was a cheer as Caoilfhinn straightened, her fingers drawing lazy circles in the air as she stared Aroin down. If Sarah were to be entirely honest, she had no idea what was going on, and she dearly wished that she had been able to figure out that stupid passage in that book, because she could only imagine the fight was much more dramatic if one could actually see what was happening. Another flick of Aroin's wrist did nothing, for Caoilfhinn raised her hand and closing it in a catching motion. This was nowhere near as tense for Sarah as Jareth's challenge had been, which she blamed on not knowing what was going on, but she could see that all six Kings and Queens were watching attentively on the edge of their seats.

Suddenly, the combatants burst out into a flurry of movement, and Sarah could see, not their spells, but the results of where they impacted on the shield protecting the audience. It seemed as if Combat Magic was half magic, and half acrobatic dodging. Aroin's spells made purple impacts at the edge of the circle, and Caoilfhinn's did the same in red, but far less often and far closer to Lord Aroin. However, there was still no blood, and Sarah understood now Jareth's words on the infeasibility of calling a magical match in such a way. Though it had been no more than five minutes, Lord Aroin was looking bruised and exhausted, while Caoilfhinn was only a little winded. Like Jareth's, this match had been little contest.

The motions of the challengers slowed suddenly as Lord Aroin fell to his knees. Sarah could see the nauseas look on Caoilfhinn's face, and knew that there would be none of the toying Jareth had prolonged in the last challenge she had seen. Caoilfhinn relaxed her arms, falling back on her heels. With a sense of startlement, Sarah realized that the challenge was over. Lord Aroin toppled onto his face and the barrier between Caoilfhinn and the remainder of the court fell. Solemn, Saoirse raised her voice. "I, Saoirse of the line Rébereth, witness that Empress Caoilfhinn has won the challenge."

Jareth was the second witness, and his tone was just as somber as Saoirse's while they watched the servants carry Lord Aroin's corpse away. Momentarily, Caoilfhinn relaxed her stance. After a grief-filled pause, if not for Aroin, then for what she had done, Caoilfhinn turned to look at Lizabeth. "Court will resume in half an hour. Please excuse me." With those less than articulate words, Caoilfhinn fled the scene as artfully as she could, Lizabeth following on her heels. Sarah empathized with Caoilfhinn. Despite the necessity of the matter, Sarah felt her bile rise at the idea of having to kill another.

The rest of the High Court filed back into the throne room with all the speed of a Disneyworld line. By the time everyone made it inside, and Caoilfhinn had rejoined them, she looked more focused and better able to present a patient demeanor. The time without her presence was filled with social interactions that Jareth endured and Sarah attempted to keep her mind off of. Many of the courtiers were speaking in awe and newfound respect for their Empress, especially in the area of spellwork.

Very nearly out of nowhere, Caoilfhinn appeared beside her throne, once again resplendent in a brightly colored dress that swayed as if there were a breeze within the room. All speech halted as Caoilfhinn cleared her throat. "Court is now back in session. I do believe we were discussing a dispute between the Houses of Golden Sun and Twilight."

Chapter Text

After Caolfhinn' display of Combat Magic, Sarah was determined to find out what she was doing wrong with her magic lessons. She spent the first week back making her way through Titania's journal. It was amazingly helpful, and the reason why was stated within the first ten pages.

These infernally pretentious noble Sidhe assume that, because they are taught magic from birth, all of us are. I find that their instruction texts are worded in such a diabolical manner that only one who has experienced such tutelage truly understands what they mean. I, being from a poor farm family, am left to work these out with only the help of my loving husband, Oberon. I hope that, by leaving this journal, future Queens in the same predicament have an easier time of it than I have.

Titania had started with a basic knowledge of magic, because it was an integral part of Fae life, but the recounting of her adventures showed her consistency to be equally as crude as Sarah's. One day she would be able to both feel and see (something which made Sarah extremely jealous) magic in something as mundane as the scones, and the next she would have trouble doing so with something as obviously magical as the Bog. Little advances, most of which Sarah recognized as having reached, were noted for the first fifty pages, along with a great deal of annoyance on Titania's part. A couple of them were even things that Sarah managed to implement. She could not really tell the difference, but once she had, Jareth would grin through her magic lessons again. One passage that prefaced many of these advancements was an interesting one.

Normally I would not mention the tedious daily business of the Labyrinth, but a few weeks ago there was a girl who made a wish, and an unusual one at that. It was less a wish and more a deal with Oberon, which is no longer of much importance. What is of interest to this journal is her status as a powerful mortal mage, and that she now resides in the castle as my 'handmaid'. Naturally, I have queried her often about her learning, and her responses thus far have been invaluable to me.

At first, Sarah had been surprised that any Sidhe would deign to learn magic from a human, but as the list of things that 'Maile said' and 'Maile explained' grew so quickly that Sarah began to understand how Titania would not dare to ignore such a resource. Finally, a week and a half after their court visit, and on page seventy-seven, Sarah found something that directly referenced the one passage from the 'bloody aristocratic texts' that she had been longing to understand.

'Securely know thyself' indeed! May my derision be heard in all the Faewilde. If I were not afraid it would actually work, I would curse the Fae who wrote those words. I knew myself quite well before I came to the Labyrinth, and I have still had many obstacles in properly working magic. I decided, today, to speak with Maile concerning the phrase, for it has always caused me grief. She laughed, and I must admit I flushed with anger until she explained her mirth. It is not a reflection of how well one understands the inner workings of their mind, but rather how well they have investigated the core of their magic. I, personally, had no idea that such a thing existed, and so Maile sat me down and led us in meditation.

From there, the explanation of what they had done continued for three pages in Titania's rather long-winded style, and ended with the Queen consciously doing the magical things which she had been doing instinctively. Sarah stared at the blank space where that entry ended, deep in thought. Behind all the technical jargon and fancy English, it all came down to one principal. There was a very tangible place in one's mind that was a vessel of power over magic, and to use it properly you had to first know where it was.

The book fell from Sarah's limp hands as she sat, astounded, in the library chair. Tonight. She would go looking tonight.

Sarah sat cross-legged in the pillow pit by her window. The Labyrinth now showed no shame in openly switching its corridors around while she observed. It had been quite amusing when she could turn until she viewed the window only out of the corner of her eye, and attempt to catch the Labyrinth in the middle of a switch. But that time was past, and Sarah must not get distracted now. She had to be focused, not on the Labyrinth, but on the magic it contained. Jareth had said in that long ago lesson that the very air held magic. Surely if she could learn to sense the magic in the very air, Sarah would be able to sense magic anywhere. That would certainly show Jareth that she had every ounce of determination that she had possessed eight years ago. Yes, that would be a worthy goal to result from finding the core of her magic.

Splaying her bare hands before her, Sarah closed her eyes. Titania had explained it as a sort of reaching inside oneself and hitting a tuning fork. The analogy had not gotten far with Sarah, who had slept through her physics classes and had never showed interest in any instrument but her own voice. However, she knew to look for a place within her where she felt more aware. There she would find the secrets to magic. Sarah's breathing slowed to long, sleep-like rhythm as she delved into her meditative state.

Once, long before she had encountered the Goblin King, Sarah had been afraid of the dark. It was dark here, in the depths of her mind, but it was a thrilling darkness. It was a thing of unknowns, not of hidden monsters. Rummaging about, Sarah found herself suddenly aware of the magic on the pillows now digging into her calves, as if the hidden place within her wished to distract her from her quest. It was not enough to deter Sarah, though. She had to go deeper, feel more. A noise flooded Sarah's ears, proving an unavoidable annoyance in her journey. The dull thudding increased the further Sarah progressed, until she was about ready to scream and give up. One last push forward, she told herself, knowing her body was now tense and exhausted. One more.

Sarah nearly stumbled into the amorphous section of blinding, burning power. She stared in awe at this, listened to its quiet whispers. She turned away quickly, though, and felt suddenly for the real world. Sarah opened her eyes, and the dancing lights that been burned into her meditative retinas faded away. However, a certain echo of the whispers remained, reverberating in everything around her. Magic.

If she had been planning to get any sleep before, Sarah had no such intention now. The world around her was undoubtedly alive. The very stones of the castle sang beneath her, and Sarah could feel one of the larger rooms shifting to the southwest corner. Words failed Sarah, her mind registering only wonder. A small smile appeared on her lips, and she sat there, content.

It was morning when Mizra slipped into Sarah's room to find her in the same position she had been in for nigh unto eight hours, with the same giddy grin gracing her now sleeping countenance. Mizra approached Sarah carefully, and gently shook the mortal. Loathe to be parted from her dreams of glittering, singing magic, Sarah would not come awake. Deciding that Sarah's unconscious state was in her best interests, Mizra went ahead and dressed Sarah as she wished before pinching the mortal's arm.

"Holy COW!" Sarah spluttered, "I'm awake! I'm . . . did you . . . am I in a corset?"

Mizra beamed at the confused and slightly disoriented woman before her. "Mizra merely did as she was instructed. Is Sarah ready to take breakfast?"

More than a little distracted by her new sense, Sarah nodded. Her reply was slightly dreamy. "That sounds alright. I'll be changing first, though. I'd rather not faint in front of Jareth."

Scowling, Mizra proffered Sarah's usual fare of jeans and a blousy shirt. "Would Lady Sarah like her favorite vest, or another?"

Already half out of the dress, Sarah halted to think. "I'll go for the navy today, Mizra." Sarah stared blankly at the closures on the front of her corset while Mizra rummaged through her wardrobe. How was she supposed to get this contraption off again? A curious sensation zinged through Sarah's hands as she began wrestling with the bottommost clasp. Giving her fingers a little wiggle, Sarah returned to her task with renewed ferocity.

Relieved to be free of the constricting garments, Sarah rushed to breakfast in her customary attire. She had never noticed before how dust-laden the air was, nor how alive the entirety of the Labyrinth was. There, she could feel Jareth up ahead, making his sedate way to the dining room. That was more than a little disconcerting for Sarah. In fact, this whole business was giving her a bit of sensory overload, and she hadn't even tried to do anything with the magic yet.

Jareth was waiting outside the door, and cordially offered Sarah his arm upon her appearance. "I must apologize for Caoilfhinn's insensitive letter yesterday. Eorlth tells me that things have gotten much more agonizing for her at the High Court, despite the advances made." Jareth drew out Sarah's chair and allowed her to sit before doing so himself. "There are curious matters afoot, and you must be prepared for them."

Sarah nodded. "I understand that. I would like it if you told me what these 'curious matters' were. I don't fancy not knowing what I'm being set up for." Sarah suppressed a twitch as a rather large mote of glitter settled on the bridge of her nose.

Seeing this out of the corner of his eye, Jareth paused in dishing up his breakfast. Not only was this a good chance to weasel his way out of answering Sarah, but it was also highly unusual behavior for her. Her reaction linked immediately to a memory of his own. "Sarah, did you go looking for the magic in the air?" Jareth was relieved to have wriggled his way out of her question, the greater crisis averted. Now he could move onto the lesser crises, like the fact that Sarah had done something incredibly dangerous without his supervision.

Attempting to ignore the increasing amount of glitter particles landing on her now that she was seated next to him, Sarah turned to Jareth. "Don't avoid the subject, Jareth. It's more than a little annoying." A croissant sounded like a good idea, Sarah thought. There was no need to let Jareth know that she was using the same tactic he was.

Jareth narrowed his eyes at Sarah, observing her attempt to halt her fidgeting with food. There was now no doubt in his mind that she had explicitly ignored his instructions. "You did! I recall telling you not to do so." Never mind that that had been months ago. Jareth's faux anger was nearly immediately replaced with true worry. There were a number of side effects that could happen to Sarah now that she had done such a childish thing. Why was she ever so juvenile? Jareth thought that humans were supposedly fully mature by her age.

"Tell me not to? You were the one that suggested it!" Sarah huffed in reply. Jareth was simply going too far with this business. While she was exaggerating, it had indeed been Jareth who had instilled the idea into Sarah's mind. How could he so brusquely dismiss her night of work?

One hand went to ruffle already disheveled hair while Jareth took a deep breath. Clearly, Sarah had gone no crazier in the last ten hours than she already had been after several months of living in the Labyrinth. "I did no such thing." How had he worded it? Jareth truly wished he could recall it exactly, so he could know why Sarah would have gone and done something so foolish. He needed to calm down, she was probably in all good health.

"You just said everything would taste funny!" Sarah shuddered as another large piece of glitter fell on her. "You didn't tell me that anything else would happen." Sarah finished with a near bitter tone and a sigh. Sarah would have done anything to better understand magic these last few months, and it was not entirely Jareth's fault that he had not understood that she would take any and all advice to heart. Sarah's hands clenched around the silverware and she closed her eyes to contain her anger

A cool, gloved hand went to Sarah's forehead, and the sheer amount of magical power she felt, even through the glove, had Sarah rooted in place. "It is usually only children who are so reckless as to try something like centering without their instructor present." To his relief, Sarah was showing largely positive symptoms. It would have been harrowing to find she had gone too far too quickly.

Sarah's eyes flew open in realization. "You did it once, didn't you?" It would make sense, with what he knew and how he was reacting. Sarah had long since learned that others were more sympathetic to mistakes they had also made. Still though, he was such a hypocrite.

Lips quirked into a pleased smirk, Jareth did not hesitate in nodding. "I was only a little into my second decade at the time. There are two ways your mind can handle premature location of the center of your magic. For some, especially if they venture further than they are ready for, it is like staring into the sun, and they lose nearly all sense of magic. For the ones who manage to do it correctly, it is like having poor sight suddenly become resolved." Though he wished to hide it from her, Jareth was proud that Sarah could be counted among the latter.

Remembering when the optometrist had first given her an eyeglass prescription, Sarah nodded with an understanding of Jareth's analogy. "You notice every little detail. Does that mean the feeling fades, then?" It always had for her eyes.

Jareth's expression displayed agreement in the form of a self-satisfied grin. "You have yet to find me starting at the smallest things. Some are driven to madness by the sensation, but that tends to show itself within hours. I did warn you that the air will always feel a little strange, so I refuse to hear complaints concerning that." Jareth was nearly glowing, though, and his slight petulant tone was nearly drowned by his excitement.

Silence lingered for a few minutes as the two ate, both Jareth and Sarah happier than they had been in weeks. Then a small realization dawned on Sarah. "Does that mean I get to wear gloves now?"

Jareth snorted. "Of course not. You cannot even intentionally use magic yet. That is when you shall earn your gloves."

Crestfallen, Sarah sighed, poking at her eggs. Wait, had he said . . . "What do you mean I cannot use magic?"

There was a groan, the same one Jareth uttered every time Sarah exposed her ignorance of the Fae world. "The exercise you did only facilitates what you could alr-"

A loud clang sounded over Jareth, obscuring his last words and distracting both of them. There was a loud hissing, the pattering of tiny feet, and echoes of "Ouchies!" Moments later, seven tiny goblins burst into the dining room with a dark, thin object held above their heads. "KING! KING!" The seven goblins clamored, dropping the item at Jareth's feet. It was a crowbar.

As the goblins began nursing their palms, Sarah realized the hissing had been the iron burning their skin. She turned shocked eyes upon Jareth, who was regarding his minions warily. "Where did you find this?" This could be very serious, if someone had brought Cold Iron into his Labyrinth. He did not notice when the crowbar dissolved into the floor, disappearing into the depths of the castle to be called for later.

"GARDEN! GREEN GREEN GREEN GARDEN!" was the reply, which Jareth knew was the best he would get from the goblins. This would take some further consideration and investigation.

Chapter Text

"Sword up!" Braldrr squeaked. It was too late, and Sarah ducked under Jareth's swing, only to be knocked back by a soft kick. "King be too gentle with Lady Sarah." Sarah growled as she rolled to the edge of the mat and regained her feet. If this was 'too gentle', Sarah knew that she would fail, and badly, if she was put against any other Sidhe. Sarah managed to get her wooden saber above her head just in time to defend against Jareth's downward cut. "Push forward, Lady Sarah."

A light draft signaled that the door to the practice room had been opened. Having been rebuked a few too many times for getting distracted; Sarah kept her focus on Jareth. He glanced over to assess the intruder, and Sarah was glad enough for the opportunity to go on the offensive. To her dismay, however, Jareth was far above her level of experience, and Sarah ended up on her buttocks once again.

"That was not so bad." Lizabeth's voice floated over to Sarah, sounding completely honest. "With a little practice, you could take him off guard. However, I think you should not accept any challenges just yet."

Braldrr bowed low to Lizabeth, and nearly as low to Caoilfhinn, who glided to the edge of the room with a large book in her hands. "Milady Valkyrie, it is always an honor to have one's student return. You wish to assist in Lady Sarah's lessons?"

A predatory smirk was answer enough for Sarah. "That would be absolutely lovely. May I?" Lizabeth advanced to the near wall, where various lengths of wood were propped up in stands while Caoilfhinn conjured a chair in her corner. "Caoilfhinn, you will not be getting out of this. Get back over here." With those words, Lizabeth chose a plank with about the same heft as her sword, as well as a lighter, thin practice blade for Caoilfhinn. "I'll let you do the honors, Captain Braldrr."

While Caoilfhinn was still making her way across the room, Braldrr barked out, "Stance!" Sarah and Jareth sprang to attention, as they had countless times over the last month. Though their positions were the same, the feeling was different now that they were being watched. This was the first time Lizabeth had attended any of Sarah's lessons, and is was quite clear that she was here simply to check on Sarah's progress. This fact was proven when Lizabeth laid light slaps on Sarah's limbs; correcting they way she was holding herself.

From that point on, it continued much as Sarah was used to, with the exception of Liz's many a shouted "Halt!" The innumerable times that Sarah stopped mid-swing for Lizabeth to poke at her tasked Sarah's muscles even more than a normal practice would. At times, Lizabeth would use Caoilfhinn as a doll to point out the proper way to stand, which always left Jareth smirking at the disgruntled Empress.

What Sarah enjoyed the most was when Lizabeth prodded at Jareth to correct his stance. There was no doubt that Lizabeth was the most skilled in the room, and a perfectionist at that. Jareth would glare every time she maneuvered his arms for better strength and follow through, and Sarah could see the growing agitation between the two. It was hilarious.

Finally, Lizabeth frowned at Jareth. "Sarah, practice with Caoilfhinn. Jareth needs to work on his forms." What Sarah understood from this was more along the lines of 'I need to trounce Jareth', which amused her. She and Caoilfhinn watched the exchange out of the corner of their eyes, while noting that they were much better suited to contending together than with their former partners. However, Sarah was still miserably outclassed, and she knew it. Five weeks was just nowhere near the same as training for nearly a century, or more. Minutes into the switch, Caoilfhinn and Sarah had to jump apart as Jareth was flung across the circle as a result of Lizabeth tripping him up.

A large bell rang out, and Braldrr squeaked in alarm, retreating through the door and running as fast as he could down the hall. Lizabeth had Caoilfhinn by the elbow immediately, and Jareth clambered to his feet. "I suggest you two leave now. No need for our interloper to find the Empress in my castle." With a puff of sweet spring air, the two disappeared, and Jareth extended his hand to Sarah. "It would be a good idea to retire to your room for the time, Sarah."

Feeling obstinate, Sarah reluctantly took Jareth's outstretched hand. "What is the bell for? Eorlth and Caoilfhinn never set it off, nor did the assassin in the garden." Indeed, Sarah could not remember such an alarm for all of the months she had been in the Labyrinth. It was a mystery to her.

Presenting the blankest expression Sarah had ever seen on his face, Jareth shrugged his shoulders slightly. "The Labyrinth has identified something that it classifies as a threat, which means it is something with enough magic that it will not likely resolve without my attention. The Labyrinth knows who my friends are, and does not waste time in unnecessary calls to arms."

Though Jareth tugged at her arm, Sarah remained immobile. "Who could it be, then?"

With an angry sigh, Jareth acquiesced to Sarah's demanding nature. "It would not be one of the Queens, nor any official visit from a Major house. They would have sent a message ahead of them. It may not be a Sidhe, it could be a Head of one of the lower houses, or someone has gotten serious with their assassination attempts. Now, will you kindly go where you will be safe while I deal with this matter?"

It seemed that Sarah really did not have much say in this matter, for no sooner had she opened her mouth to decline than she was dragged to her room by Mizra and a couple of other female goblins. That was when it struck Sarah how deadly serious Jareth had been. She only hoped that he would be safe.

Sarah was left to simmer for the rest of the evening, and well into the morning. She was just about to wish herself out of the room when Mizra popped up out of nowhere, though with none of the pomp that the Sidhe had, leaving Sarah to assume that Mizra had actually been in her room the entire time. That, or there were secret passages throughout the castle. But that thought was ridiculous.

The goblin looked even sterner than when she argued with Sarah, so when her command to get prepared for court was issued, Sarah did as she was told. It was likely that this had something to do with the castle's visitor last night. For the umpteenth time, Sarah hoped that Jareth was doing okay. After all, he was her friend.

Jareth appeared by her door late in the morning, his face impassive and eyes smoldering with anger. "Are you sufficiently prepared, Sarah? We have an appointment to keep."

Sighing, Sarah took Jareth's outstretched hand with a nod. "Would you mind telling me what's going on?"

"Birdsong." It took more than a few moments for Sarah to realize that Jareth meant the House, long enough that he was too quiet for her to ask what had happened last night.

Sarah was still on Jareth's arm when he walked her into the High Court. She had straightened her posture, and so she knew they both looked majestic as they swept into the room, causing a stir among the lower nobles and leaving Caoilfhinn smiling.

That was, until Caoilfhinn realized that they had come without any prompting on her part, and suddenly her expression began to rival Jareth's for icy anger. She, and consequently the rest of the court, stood. "Welcome, King Jareth. Will you be joining your fellows in the circle of thrones?"

"No, your Imperial Majesty, I must first bring forth a suit against the House of Birdsong."

Caoilfhinn's lips turned down in the slightest expression of distaste. "And the cause of your suit would be?"

"They have attempted to invade my land, and kill me and mine with astonishingly indecorous frequency for the past few moons."

Caoilfhinn raised a fire-red eyebrow. "I find that to be a reasonable suit. Let the trial begin."

Chapter Text

The days after that fateful Court visit passed in a blur. Birdsong had been heavily reprimanded for what they had done, and for what they had tried to do. Sarah had been surprised at how effective their punishments were. The had not been a single disturbance in the Labyrinth since the trial. Only some of that could be attributed to the House of Birdsong, Sarah knew, but it was still nice. Every moment not spent evading assassins and helping Jareth arrange information for the High Court was spent in practicing her magic, and Sarah felt as if she had come a very long way.

As adept as Sarah was now at sensing and locating different magics, she still saw as much as a newborn pup did. That is to say, not much of anything. The more onerous Jareth waxed about it, the more annoyed Sarah became. Apparently, she was missing an important, and usually easy, milestone in her magical advancements. That irked Sarah that, on this matter, even Titania's journal was of no help. It was beginning to make Sarah furious. She had gone to such lengths to feel the magic about her, but those methods did nothing for vision. It was as if there were something blocking her from doing this. She had, in a way, run up against a wall. It was terribly discouraging, but Sarah was not ready to give up just yet.

"What spell am I casting now?"

Sarah groaned at Jareth. It felt familiar, and she knew what type of spell it was. "Some protection spell, Jareth. But that brings me no closer to seeing it." Sarah felt positively handicapped, and it only served to make her angrier.

Heaving a sigh, Jareth calmly strode over to the window, striving to remember his young escapades from the time when he had first begun to investigate magic. It had been before he was chosen by the Labyrinth, back as a small lad playing with Eorlth. Even then his power had been great, greater than was expected from merely a major house. Jareth had started early in his childhood with illusions, often as practical jokes when cavorting about with Eorlth. The only one who had always seen through Jareth's illusion spells without hesitation had been his mother, who was no longer around to divulge his treachery. Others, like the Empress and Eorlth, were able to deduce when Jareth was producing an illusion. As long as Jareth could remember, Sarah had been the only one to break through one of his fantasies without any prompting or training.

Dreams were another area that had always fascinated Jareth as a child. Nightmares had been common after the accident that left him orphaned, and the only clear solution to his young mind had been magic. Pleasant dreams, dreams of lost loved ones, nighttime trysts with adolescent admirers. They had all been his specialty by the time the former Goblin King had died. Now those particular obsessions made sense to Jareth, for they composed a good number of his duties as the Labyrinth's King and representative to the High Court. Indeed, the Labyrinth used many of the same magics to ensnare the unwary minds of trespassers.

However, Jareth had difficulty recalling a singular moment when he had begun to see the magic he practiced with. In opposition to the way Sarah currently seemed completely unable to, Jareth remembered always seeing magic, catching glimpses of bits and pieces of the spells that intertwined with all Sidhe living spaces. He had gradually just realized that it those glimmers were magic. Sarah, however, did not have the same luxury of time that he had as a child. Sarah needed to come to the realization of what she was seeing, or her life could very well come to risk.

Seeing the many patches of green in the Labyrinth below the window, more than when Sarah had arrived, Jareth had a sudden thought. "Would you like to go see one of the gardens, Sarah?" He knew that she itched to return to the Labyrinth, to see its far reaches and wiggle her toes in its soil, as she should. It was only natural, considering who she was. The incident with the fireys had, thankfully, taught the insane woman some sense, and poor Sarah had stayed within the 'safe' areas closer to the castle. It meant that she was far more likely to take Jareth up on his offer than if she were able to roam free.

Fighting to keep her elation hidden, Sarah looked up from her feet hopefully. "You'll take me to one of the gardens? One of the ones way out in the Labyrinth?" A healthy amount of disbelief was resplendent in her tone. What was she supposed to think? Perhaps this was some terrible joke.

Hoping to encourage Sarah, Jareth gave her a small smile, on the very fringes of becoming a smirk. "I offered, did I not? Come to the window and we will decide on one, Sarah."

With a beautiful sense of wonder in her eyes, Sarah closed the distance between them and took her place at the window. Jareth inwardly berated himself for finding pleasure in Sarah's natural instinct to take her rightful place. Was he not supposed to be fighting this? Was he not to be loath to accept Sarah? When had those feelings of indignation slipped away? Sarah leaned forward, eager, and her first choice surprised Jareth, for it was the most apt for completing this lesson. With only a moments notice, they were whisked away in a shower of glitter.

The statue garden was in bloom at this time of year, with the most exotic flowers of the Faewilde finding a strange form of nourishment in the rough and slightly graveled ground. "Tell me, Sarah, what you see."

Rolling her eyes, Sarah began her reply with a sigh. "All I see is flowers, Jareth."

This required Jareth to suppress a knowing grin. This was no ordinary garden, these plants the rarest in the Underground, and no mere mortal who came here had ever been able to see the vegetation. No, the only thing an average human saw in this place were the many stone statues. The more wary would look immediately for a creature such as a Medusa. They were cleverer than Jareth often considered them to be, for this was indeed the home of a basilisk in the Labyrinth's warm season. The flowers here fed upon the magic-rich stone of the basilisk's victims, and were invisible to those who could not see magic. The answer was clear to Jareth. Sarah did better than she thought she did.

Sarah continued to rant on, and Jareth watched calmly as she worked enchantments by her words alone. How did she not know? How could she not understand? Sarah was still speaking, rambling on about the gorgeous, and in her mind entirely mundane, flowers. Perhaps he had been wrong about Sarah's magic. It seemed to him that all along, from the time Sarah had first fallen in love with the stage, throughout her first visit to the Labyrinth, and even now, Sarah had been doing magic. Or perhaps that was just the Labyrinth addling his thoughts. Who would know whether he was forced to answer Sarah's wishes by virtue of her own magic, or tricks of the Labyrinth? It would not save her from danger, either way.

Jareth had the time to wait and find out, but Sarah did not have the time to do the same. Time was one thing that one was rarely short on in the Faewilde, even with court intrigue, and even if Jareth had to push Sarah faster, there were some things that would only come to light with time. With a smile, Jareth turned his mind to a different subject. "This is the most beautiful basilisk garden in the Faewilde, you know."

Thoughts brought to a sudden halt, Sarah turned around and raised a single eyebrow at Jareth. "You brought me out to a basilisk garden? Are you insane?"

Smirking, Jareth picked a flower that resembled an orchid . . . in a rather flouncy and brightly colored way. "It is the cold season here, and the garden's protector is hibernating." He offered the flower to Sarah, who blushed and snatched it up.

A growl slipped from Sarah's throat. "You all say it's winter, but it feels no different to me. How could it be enough to send anything into hibernation?"

Jareth shrugged, feeling the drop in temperature more keenly than he would if he merely traveled to a wintry area of the Faewilde. "It is something one becomes accustomed to after a few years in the Faewilde. One day you will be able to distinguish the seasons as well."

Somewhat relieved that Jareth was not about to get either of them killed, Sarah loosened her grip on the beautiful, albeit showy, flower in her hand. "I think I remember reading about basilisk gardens, but I can't recall much." Sarah blanched a little as they stumbled upon another 'statue'. "Are these mortals that have run the Labyrinth?"

Jareth considered, thinking. The basilisk garden had been here through three Goblin Kings before him, and so he could not account for every victim here, but still he strove to recall. "Most of them are errant fae. Most mortals do not get this far into the Labyrinth, but there are a few here." The sound of gurgling water intruded upon their piece. Jareth had nearly forgotten about the tiled spring in the center of the garden, which did a good deal more than just refresh the basilisk. He did not want Sarah poking around in the Truth Fountain. That would be uncomfortable for both of them. "Sarah, we should go. Is there another garden you wished to see?"

Chapter Text

"What is this?"

Jareth was beginning to resent his promise to Caoilfhinn. Who knew how the young Empress managed to wheedle such things out of him. At least she acquiesced to some of his requests in turn.

"Jareth? It says that Caoilfhinn wants us to attend some . . . what's a ran-fair-tact?" Jareth really did not want to go to this stupid engagement party, it was just two minor houses after all, but between Caoilfhinn and Eorlth, he had little choice. Caoilfhinn begged him to get Sarah out to Court functions more often, and Eorlth had suggested that the House of Great Awakening had played some small part, if not much, for Jareth's opposition. Knowing Eorlth, the Fae suspected more and simply was having difficulty obtaining evidence to hand off to the Empress.

Plucking the letter from Sarah's hands, Jareth finally realized what Sarah had been saying. "It's an engagement party, Sarah. We can go over pronunciation later. Where did you find that?" If the Labyrinth had started delivering his letters to her, Jareth needed to remind it that he was master here. That she could read it was equally disturbing. If she just had a tad more control, Sarah could have been doing so much more with her magic.

However, they needed to focus. Jareth and Sarah had to dress up, yet again, and go be forcefully polite for an evening. It sounded incredibly tedious. This time, at least, Caoilfhinn had the sense to avoid his wrath by remaining at the Palace and merely suggesting some of the dresses in the basement for Sarah's use. The last Goblin Queen had been quite extravagant, and female fashions had not changed much in the millennia since her death. Sarah would join him in the dazzling attire befit her station. Befit her dreams. Not something chosen arbitrarily for her. Yes, this option sounded much better.

"I have to pick a suitable dress?" It looked as if Caoilfhinn may have avoided Jareth's wrath just to run aground of Sarah's.

Instructions for the seamstress goblins had accompanied Eorlth's latest missive, and so Jareth would glaring at a few, admittedly quite rich, sets of clothing altered to fit court fashion. What dress would Sarah choose? Would it be better to match or compliment her? These were concerns Jareth had never thought he would have to consider alone, and he found it an odd train of though

At the same time, in a very different room of the castle, Sarah stared in confusion at the dresses stacked on her bed, near as high as the boxes had been that first night. They were stacked three or five deep, with wide, voluminous skirts that frightened her. Most were in shades of blue, gold, or purple, the colors Sarah had come to associate with the Labyrinth. Or rather, Jareth's favorite colors to wear. Sarah ran her fingers over the dresses, considering with wonder the rich, beautiful silks. There was even one dress rather reminiscent of the dress she had worn in the peach dream, but Sarah kept well away from it. Such memories tended to leave her blushing and angry, even now. Instead, Sarah chose something in a navy she thought might be reasonable, even perhaps decently comfortable, to wear in comparison to some of the boned and contorting bodices. Yes, that gown would likely be the best for Sarah's aching ribcage. Properly laced corsets, she had learned, were exactly what she had been told for all her life: uncomfortable. Sarah was not looking forward to wearing another.

From what Eorlth and Saoirse had told Sarah, this was going to be a far from pleasant evening. The house of Great Awakening did not support Caoilfhinn, and was not going to be kind to Sarah. After what had happened at the last two challenges,there would be little animosity directed toward Jareth or Caoilfhinn, but Sarah was a human. Mortals were less than peasants to the Fae, and fair game for all of the nasty tricks and behavior the Sidhe nobles wished. While Sarah did have Jareth for protection, as well as what little magic she had been able to learn, it was not the same as being in Caoilfhinn's palace, where she was implicitly safe.

Then, of course, there were the rumors spreading about her relationship with Jareth. Honestly, just because they lived in the same castle . . . Sarah sighed and slipped into the dress, submitting to Mizra's attentions as her thoughts wandered.

Dressed smartly, Sarah waited anxiously in the throne room, preparing much as she would before going on stage. Now that she thought about it, Court was rather like a production. Everyone was all smiles, despite the soap opera going on around them. Now she understood why Jareth was always so theatric. One had to be to survive court. Perhaps that was why Caoilfhinn was so exaggerative compared to her twin. A great grin spread across Sarah's face as Jareth stalked in. Though this evening was sure to be stressful, her train of thought was making her giddy. She understood! She finally understood something about Court.

Upon seeing Sarah's smile, Jareth could not suppress one of his own, though his own ponderings were darker. The gossip was going to be awful. But tonight Sarah looked beautiful, and she was smiling at him. That was enough to allow Jareth's musings to brighten, just a little. She had chosen one the midnight dress, a darker counterpart to the white gown she had worn in a dream on her first visit to the Labyrinth. It fit her better than the other had, for Sarah was no longer a child, and had gained a great deal of confidence since he had met her a handful of years ago.

Carefully avoiding any overt display of his true opinion, Jareth kindly offered Sarah his arm before taking them off to the party, leaving a heavy dusting of glitter behind them. Thankfully, Sarah's dress was sparkly enough to withstand the puff of glitter that also accompanied their reappearance on the steps just outside the House of Great Awakening's manor, notably smaller than either Jareth's castle or Caoilfhinn's palace. Sarah was impressed that they could host a Court function at all, and it was likely not at a small cost.

They were led up the front steps and swept into a large dining room. Many bright, swirling colors swept across the floor, the dun of murmured conversations louder than any musicians the House of Great Awakening had hired. The orchestra's symphony was a low hum that had to be sought out for one to realize that it was there. Sarah was sure that the herald's staff had to be magically augmented, for it should never have been able to ring out the raps the way it did. The conversations quieted slightly as they turned to view the newcomers. "Jareth, King of the Labyrinth, and the Lady Sarah Williams." How the herald managed to fit disdain into the latter half of his monotonic declaration, Sarah might never know. She figured it might be a good skill to learn, however, if she were to be dealing with Jareth for an extended period of time.

Remembering her epiphany, Sarah affixed a dazzling smile to her face, one that was, just barely, reflected in her eyes. Jareth, seeing her happy face, soon followed suit, despite the beeline that Caoilfhinn was making toward them. Only just too late did they notice Queen Morrigan was far nearer, and just as interested in speaking to them. Morrigan had the look of a lynx after prey, with her attempt at a motherly look not doing much to cover it. It was as frightening as even the fireys. Sarah kept the smile plastered as tightly to her face as she could, determined to not let it droop in the slightest.

Queen Morrigan finally settled on an expression that teetered between worried and pleased. "Oh, Jareth, darling, how are you doing?" Sarah could sense Jareth's hackles rise at Queen Morrigan's familiar addressing. Her politicking lessons had paid off enough that she knew he would have to respond in kind – they were, after all, of the same social status.

Hand clenching in a manner that made Sarah glad she was not within his grip, Jareth replied in a scathing tone. "I am faring quite well, Morrigan." A conniving smile replaced the sincere one that had been matching Sarah's as Jareth recalled the Labyrinth's most recent occasion. "One of the wyrms died recently. A tragedy, but it certainly helps that it was a getting along in centuries."

Satisfaction reigned supreme. The House of Darkest Night had Wyrm preserves on their land, and when one would die its skin would be tanned. The resultant leather was a luxurious commodity, the sole cause of Morrigan's wealth. It was fun to nettle her with the idea of some competition.

"That is fantastic, Jareth. I do hope your luck continues." Morrigan's words were clipped, and she stalked off quickly to go act matronly elsewhere.

Pleased with the outcome, and brevity, of Jareth's conversation, Sarah leaned in to whisper in his ear. "That was amazing. You should do it more often." Sarah was thinking, of course, about Lord Erulcieru's incredible rudeness at her first court function. "Most of them could stand to be put in their place."

From behind the very coupled looking pair, Caoilfhinn blushed furiously, waiting for their private moment to be over. She could not bear to interrupt them; not only would that be impolite, but she wanted their budding romance to flourish. However, Caoilfhinn also really wanted to speak with the two of them. Her hopeless romantic side was warring with her childish disposition, and so all she could truly do was hope Sarah would stop whispering in Jareth's ear and just kiss him already.

Oops. She was not supposed to be thinking about things like that during Court. It usually led to something happening whilst she was distracted. Caoilfhinn shook her head before clearing her throat, hoping to rid herself of such fanciful notions. Sarah and Jareth turned slowly, matching impudent grins upon their faces. Caoilfhinn could not decide whether she was delighted or disturbed. On one hand, her plan could not realistically have been going more swimmingly. On the other . . . well, it was frightening to watch Sarah become more and more like Jareth. Soon they would be complete partners in mischievous crime, which was both exactly what Caoilfhinn wanted and everything that she feared. Dear Athena, this was getting far too complicated for her taste, and so Caoilfhinn went with hesitant delight. "Good evening, Jareth, Sarah."

Sensing Caoilfhinn's reluctance, Sarah's grin widened. She was unsure what had caused it, but is was a nice change from having all of the Sidhe put Sarah off balance. "Good evening, Empress. Are you enjoying yourself?" As much as Caoilfhinn had addressed them informally, they were in the middle of many courtiers, and Sarah knew better than to show their familiarity.

Grin turning silly, Caoilfhinn did a little shrug of her shoulders. "You know I always do, Sarah. Especially, they are all behaving properly now. It is the first time in a while that I may be able to actually enjoy myself." Suddenly remembering an item of some little importance, Caoilfhinn leaned into Sarah and made a pretense of doing the air kisses to either side of Sarah's cheeks that had been the Courtly fashion during her Regent's rule. Sarah pulled away with a small nod that perplexed Jareth.

Moments later female courtiers around the room were following suit, many with the same idea of passing along intelligence in mind. Jareth's eyes scanned the room for those he recognized. Lizabeth was, surprisingly, a good thirty feet away, keeping her eyes on Caoilfhinn from afar. There were many acquaintances that he desperately wanted to avoid, and finally, on one corner speaking avidly with some Lord or another was Eorlth. His allies were few and far between. Jareth was beginning to be glad that Sarah had learned much about the Court since their last visit, for she could be invaluable to him should one or more of the Sidhe here be plotting to usurp Jareth's position.

Only a few more nobles trickled in before the dinner bell rang, and the servants escorted the guests to the dining tables. They were many and round, but for one long rectangular table on a dais where the two engaging houses and Caoilfhinn's entourage sat. Jareth and Sarah were seated at the round table nearest Caoilfhinn, as befit their station, next to Queen Eibhlín and, to Sarah's dismay, Lord Erulcieru. Thankfully, King Ceallach and his wife were also there, barely counteracting the effects of sitting with a snobby ancient couple.

Dreydon's hands shook as he entered the dining room, carrying a platter of some extremely fancy salad. Unfortunately, he had seen them too late to regain his composure in the kitchen, and he kept his face impassive as he passed them – The Goblin King and his little ladylove. Scenarios and plans ran through Dreydon's mind. If they were here . . . so many things could happen. Dreydon intensely wanted to be able to befriend Sarah. It would make the scheme all the more sweet when Sarah thought it was a betrayal. But he knew it was not to be. The Goblin King was far too possessive of Sarah on the dance floor, and she was seated such that the only servants at their table were lower-ranking Sidhe. Queen Eibhlín tended to be old fashioned like that.

His revenge would have to continue to wait.

Sarah felt so stiff, keeping a polite face despite her dinner companions. It was a little like being in a play with a co-lead that she detested. It took effort, but she managed better than Jareth, who was beginning to look a tad panicked. Sarah was beginning to think that he had a history with Lord Erulcieru, a past which had been far from pleasant. Even if there was no history there, the Fae was rather stressful to be around.

It was one of the meat courses, something that looked like roast, when Erulcieru's eyes focused on a table in the lower section of the large dining room. He leaned toward his wife, not-quite-whispering, "It looks like Hunting Wolf brought their human brat."

Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Jareth's fork stop halfway to his mouth. Jareth was the one who placed all of the humans with their adoptive families, and so Sarah could see him struggling to contain rage at Erulcieru's tactless griping. Sarah thought that, perhaps, it was meant as an insult toward her as well, as she was a human herself. Sarah's eyes swept toward the table the Heads of Dusk were gazing at, and after a moment of searching her eyes fell on a boy that looked slightly different from the rest of those seated with him.

Disquiet settled over Sarah as she realized that, had Erulcieru not said something, she would not have noticed until she had seen the boy's ears. He blended in so well, being only slightly less perfect in complexion and a little less graceful than the Sidhe around him. Sarah focused her gaze around the room, for the first time picking out just how many humans were here. Before she had felt almost solitary in her mortality at Court functions. It seemed there were more out there than merely she and Liz, though. Returning back to her immediate vicinity, Sarah realized that Jareth was still stationary and beginning to flush. She indicated with a kick and a little smile that he could alleviate his anger later, perhaps with perfuse bogging.

Jareth forced himself to smile slightly at his darling Sarah, though he would have much rather given the entire House of Dusk a persistent and magical rash. Having Sarah by his side rather outweighed the unpleasantness of the evening, and his smile gained a tinge of truth. Soon. She would be ready soon.

Chapter Text

Last night had been a long one, with the engagement celebrations continuing into the wee hours of the morning. It was odd, Eorlth thought, how when functions were held at the Minor Houses, all of his intelligence was brought to him on paper. There was now a massive stack before him, and if Eorlth had not sent each note to his desk as it was handed to him, he would have walked out of the party last night with pockets bulging and a distinctly angular potbelly. And now, rather than having all of the information stored conveniently away in his mind so that he could sleep, Eorlth had to read all these notes. He knew that much of this information was time-sensitive, and so it had to be done quickly.

It took hours, but Eorlth eventually got the stack down to just the little notes from maids and servants that enjoyed the presents he sent them, and figured that a little gossip would hurt no one. At this point he decided it might be okay to have a light brunch and a nap. He'd never gotten anything terribly urgent out of these notes anyway. Sighing, Eorlth picked out two or three to read as he ate, knowing that the more work he did now, the less he would have when the Court was in full swing tomorrow.

Ah, the first note was from a particularly sweet maid who was more observant than any Sidhe he had ever met, but was not bright enough to do anything with her information. The compensation Eorlth sent her was a step above what he sent the other maids, for her gossip was just that much better than the other notes he received. His eyes skimmed over the letter, just barely glancing at the words on the page. He was about to fold it for perusal later when he noted the phrase 'Lady Sarah'. Heart racing, Eorlth re-read the letter carefully.

He needed to speak with Jareth. Now.

Jareth was troubled. Last night had been a revealing experience, both for him and Sarah. He had seen realization of the impacts of the High Court's politics dawn in her eyes as she picked out just how many humans there were in court, and how little respect they were given. Sarah finally understood a few core things, and so Jareth knew it was time to reveal a few of the things he had been holding back from her. How much, though, was what he was currently deciding.

That imp of an Empress would like it best if he simply told Sarah everything, beginning with when he first began watching the mortal as a child. Even then, she had sported more powerful magic than he had ever realized a human could have. His initial intrigue had transformed, and he had become rather fond of Sarah. When he had allowed her the power to call on him as she wished, he had never expected her to use it. It was just a gift, a boon for a young girl that he held in regard.

Then the dratted Labyrinth had decided to get involved. That was when Jareth had realized that he loved her. His last desperate plea, as misguided as it had been, had been genuine. The problem had been that Jareth, at the time, had been used to the wants of the more power-hungry Sidhe women, not an altruistic human girl. The Labyrinth had not been the only thing devastated when Sarah left, and he was sure that more than half of its denizens had visited Sarah in the eight years following.

Despite the painful nature of Sarah's rejection, Jareth's feelings had not abated. The lack of her presence, though, had increased his torment. He had stopped watching her very soon afterward, as it made her absence from his castle even more torturous. But Jareth had made himself a promise, one he knew he would keep, to visit her when she was a quarter of century old, and remake the offer then. How surprised he had been when she had been gifted to him, handed over with a bow on her neck, two years early.

Jareth had not expected that seeing the woman he loved would cause even more pain than her rejection had. It had been with confusion that he retreated to collect himself, a confusion that had not been allowed to last long. Caoilfhinn would have blown everything, like Jareth had the first time, had Jareth not realized the necessity of wooing Sarah very slowly, bringing her gradually to feel comfortable in the Labyrinth, and intercepted the well-meaning Empress.

Last night Sarah had proven she was ready. Now it was just up to him to figure out how much he was ready to tell. He was definitely going to declare his love. After the way she had flirted heavily with him last night, and to a lesser extent in the proceeding months, he was beginning to think his feelings might, just perhaps, be requited. Even if Sarah herself was not sure about them yet.

Jareth was on his throne, smiling absently whilst considering how to make tonight's supper a romantic one, when a little ball of light flew in one of the windows open to the Labyrinth. It had the scent of an emergency voice message, and it was in the peculiar shade of purple that Eorlth coded his messages with. The message sounded a little off, but Jareth was too preoccupied with the content to wonder about the sound of it.

Eorlth had uncovered an imminent plot to kill Sarah, and he needed a secure place to talk, one outside the Labyrinth, as his movements were being watched. There was only one place entirely free of Sidhe in the Faewilde though, and that was the crystalline caves. The caves themselves were harmless, but the Sidhe had never liked the way the cavernous walls cause magic to echo, nor the fact that the human world was so close there that one could step into it by accident. It was the perfect place for a secret meeting. Jareth closed his eyes momentarily, pondering what he had done to already make a target of Sarah. Still deep in thought, Jareth slipped off to his rooms to prepare for this urgent meeting.

Now that he thought about it, the crystal caves could account for the strange quality to Eorlth's message.

It was a beautifully sunny day and, even after getting home late from the Court function last night, Sarah was in a terrific mood. Everything was going right today. Even Jareth, a night owl, had been downright gleeful at breakfast. Saoirse and Eorlth were due late this afternoon, and Sarah just loved to watch them interact. The book on magic that was in her hands actually made some sense, thanks to Titania's journal, and the sun was warming the stone castle pleasantly, making it just about the perfect day.

That was, until Eorlth burst into the library an hour before lunch.

"I am quite sorry to intrude, Sarah, but I was wondering if Jareth was perhaps out in the Labyrinth. I had something urgent to discuss with him" Eorlth was breathing more heavily than he usually did, and looked as if he had run throughout the castle searching for the Goblin King.

Anxious, Sarah sat straight up, book falling to the side. "He said he was going to spend the morning in the throne room." Sarah knew he would not have said so and done otherwise, not with their newfound rapport. "Is he not there?" Sarah felt very calm for a moment, as all of her worry drained and dread hesitated to make an entrance. It was if she was fortifying, preparing for the terrible news she knew was coming.

"I think we should probably summon the Empress."

Chapter Text

"What do you mean, we need to summon the Empress?" Sarah was getting tired of this tangled ball of lies. It seemed like Jareth was the only Sidhe who would give anything to her straight, and even he still held back things from her. And, if he was in danger, now was definitely not the time to be keeping any information of importance from her. "What has happened to Jareth?" She should have known that cocky Fae wouldn't stay out of trouble long. It was like he was drawn to it.

Eorlth was doing his best to withstand Sarah's withering look. He was used to that particular expression from Jareth, and numerous other nobles, but on Sarah it was especially intimidating, mostly because she was usually quite agreeable with him. He needed to explain, and quickly. "Lady Sarah, you may wish to sit down. Allow me to send a letter to the Empress, and then I promise to tell you all that I know for certain."

Though Sarah did not seem pleased about his placations, she agreed, waiting impatiently as Eorlth hastily composed something that might get Caoilfhinn there with the necessary alacrity. The only thing left was to make sure she saw it, and quickly. He needed Sarah's signature for that. Despite another disparaging glare, she did so without question. It seemed even Sarah knew that Caoilfhinn thought she was important, though it was evident that she still did not understand why.

With an expensive spell, magically speaking, the missive was off, and Eorlth sat Sarah down in a comfortable armchair. "I suppose you saw last night how well Birdsong and Great Awakening have been getting along. Jareth and I had only been able to speculate about what Great Awakening was getting out of the marriage alliance, until I received certain intelligence last night." Eorlth paused, cursing their collective blindness. "Birdsong's treachery was their end of a bargain with Great Awakening, and I have reason to believe that they have instigated most of the antagonism toward Jareth."

Sarah was far from stupid, though, and far less patient than any Sidhe. "How could Great Awakening kidnap Jareth? He's more powerful than any other Sidhe, as long as he's in the Labyrinth."

A scoff came from behind them. "That is why any Fae with sense would lure him to a place where our magic is weak." Neither of them had heard Caoilfhinn appear, but she was watching them both with an unusually somber expression. "Great Awakening, you say? They will have taken him in neutral territory, and Coinneach will never be able to resist lording it over Jareth." Caoilfhinn took a deep breath before snapping her fingers, a declaration appearing out of the air. Eorlth averted his eyes, angry at his lack of power. He had been unable to do the same, just minutes ago. "Eorlth, I commission you to read this to the court. Sarah, finding Uncle Jareth is going to hinge on you."

With Caoilfhinn there, Eorlth was of no more use in the Labyrinth, and what little magic he had would be of no help in Jareth's retrieval. He sighed, looking at the sealed document Caoilfhinn had handed him. It was back to the Palace for him, to show his true allegiance in a way he had thought he never would. He sincerely hoped that this worked out for the best, or his life would be on the line as well.

Watching him go, Caoilfhinn stayed tight-lipped and deep in thought. It was making Sarah angrier by the second, because every moment lost was a moment that could be crucial to saving Jareth. Finally giving up on Caoilfhinn volunteering any more information, Sarah folded her arms. "If this whole thing hinges on me, you had better tell me what I'll be doing."

The pause stretched out, and Sarah was moments from collecting Didymus and heading out after Jareth herself when Caoilfhinn finally answered her. "Because, Sarah, the Labyrinth chose you. Of all the women Jareth has loved, it chose you to become his - it's – queen. Queen of the Labyrinth."

Sarah's mouth fell open. Love? Queen? Bog it all. "I'm going to my room." Of all the ridiculous ideas, this one took the cake. She was the furthest thing from a queen, especially Jareth's. Sure, they got along nicely, and she had beaten the Labyrinth once, but all that meant was that she and Jareth weren't miserable living in the castle together. Caoilfhinn floated along behind her, attempting to explain how Sarah was definitely Jareth's future queen, blathering on about her magic calling out to his, and using politics to get Jareth back.

Closing the door in Caoilfhinn's face was a blessing, and Sarah began furiously rifling through her closet, looking for something, anything that might give a hint as to how she might get Jareth back. As she searched, a calm befell her, and Sarah considered Caoilfhinn's points. Okay, it was definitely possible that Jareth loved her. And, thinking about their behavior these last months, and how very scared she was for him right now, Sarah had to admit… she loved him too.

So perhaps she would some day become the queen of the Labyrinth. And… that would certainly explain all of the work he and Caoilfhinn had done to assimilate her into Court.

But hell if Sarah was about to sit down with Caoilfhinn and have a nice little chat about how to go about this diplomatically.

Sarah's hand met cool metal. She didn't remember having anything like that in her closet, and so she pulled it out into the light. A crowbar. That was an odd thing to have in her…

Laughter sounded through her room, sending Sarah to her feet, looking around for the source of the sound. Then it dawned on her. The Labyrinth had put it there. For her. Everything Caoilfhinn had said was true. And, if the Labyrinth could give her a weapon of Cold Iron, it could lead her to Jareth.

She was going to go get that ponce back.

"Are you ready, Captain Braldrr? Sir Didymus?" Sarah hefted the crowbar, watching the cave grimly. Once she had known who she was, who she really was, her magic had just fallen in line. Maybe that had been the Labyrinth's contribution. Whatever it was, she had left her rooms with a memory and a shower of glitter, and pulled together the Goblin Chicken Cavalry. She hadn't known the goblins had a chicken cavalry, but four minutes conferencing with Captain Braldrr had enlightened her.

This was infinitely better than sitting in the castle devising complex political strategies. It may be reckless, but recklessness had always worked out for both Sarah and Jareth. Maybe that had something to do with the Labyrinth too.

"We are prepared, m'lady. Shall we mount the attack? SALLY FORTH, MY COMRADES."

"Wait!" Sarah grabbed Didymus's scruff before he could go haring off. "We have to go quietly." She would take the forefront.

There were whispers as Eorlth walked into the throne room, head held high and an Imperial Seal in his hand. Saoirse was standing in for her twin, acting the gracious hostess. The looks thrown his way were almost dirty as he stated his business. The Seal had to be authenticated, and then all that was left was to read.

A lazy melody played in the background, echoing through the caves as Sarah crept through the winding passages. It was beautiful in here, shining like diamonds. The enchanting atmosphere was marred by the tinkling of fake laughter. "Oh, Jareth. You thought you were so untouchable. That farce was amusing to keep. I do love to watch you die slowly." The voice echoed, like every other sound in the caves, making it difficult to pinpoint where Jareth was being held. By ear, that is. She felt a gentle pull in his direction, his magic calling out to hers.

"You always were an incompetent sap, Coinneach. You had to lure me out here, to no Fae's land. I would avoid feeling too superior, if I were you. I am planning my escape as we speak."

Why hadn't they gagged Jareth? Sarah sighed. If that man got himself killed before she could get in there, she would never forgive him. She rounded a corner, and the scene came into view. Five Fae, one with a harp, and a human, all of them in the colors of Great Awakening, and Jareth chained to the floor with a smirk on his face.

By the authority of the High Imperial Court, Her Imperial Majesty Empress Caoilfhinn does declare Lord Coinneach, Head of the House of Great Awakening, a traitor to the Sidhe.

Five would be no problem to take on, not with nearly two hundred goblins on her side. They were in… well, she couldn't exactly call anything that disorganized ranks, but the most ferocious were about ten paces behind her, giggling quietly as they awaited her signal. Which she was pretty sure they had forgotten.

"KING!"

That would be a confirmation of her suspicions.

For his treachery against the Imperial throne, and the conspiracy against both the Imperial family and the residents of the Labyrinth, Coinneach's house is to be stripped of all Imperial Privileges.

Rather than get trampled, Sarah let the momentum of her goblin cavalry push her forward into the spacious crystal chamber ahead. Jareth looked up at her with wide, horrified eyes, but anything that was said got drowned under the screams of a couple hundred goblins and the panicked clucking of their steeds. While less than effectual at actual combat, goblins had one key skill. The chaos they created was more than enough to allow Sarah to take her time with their foe.

"THE WALLS ARE SO SHINY!"

For the attempted assassination of both rulers of the Labyrinth, Lord Coinneach and all of his accomplices in this matter are sentenced to death.

The human was the first to come at Sarah, a wild and feral look in his eyes. She ducked beneath his knife, just like she had been taught, and hit him in the ribs with the crowbar. It took several blows before he fell, but as soon as he was within the reach of the goblins, they did what they knew best, dragging him to the ground. Sarah tried to ignore the shrieks of horror.

The Fae were much simpler. Despite centuries more training in fencing, the fear of being hit with an implement of Cold Iron made them clumsy. One could not dance away in a swarm of goblins, and they found themselves tripping over their own feet as they dodged Sarah's wild swinging, most falling to the same fate as the human servant.

Last of the opposing Sidhe was what Sarah assumed to be Lord Coinneach, a Fae who merely ignored the goblins clustered around his ankles and watched her with a curled lip.

"I suppose," he called out, "that to get anything done properly, I shall have to do it myself. I tire of these games. Surrender, or your precious King dies."

Sarah raised her eyebrows, and then the crowbar. "You cannot touch him. You are beyond your friends' help." She felt the magic well up within her, spun by her words and woven by her conviction. The only kind of spell that could be safely cast in this place.

"Oh, you are quite cute, darling. But we have had reports of your magical training. Or, rather, lack thereof. Now, do be a darling and hand yourself over."

Both Sarah and Jareth laughed, sharing dark mirth at Coinneach's words. "I will not give up. You are nothing." And, pinning him with the magic of her words, Sarah leapt forward, swinging the crowbar with all her might. Fair skin hissed and blistered, burned by the Cold Iron, and Coinneach fell like a stone.

Such sentence as is to be carried out immediately by the hand of the Labyrinthine Queen.

Shooing away the loyal goblins that had clustered around them, Sarah reached for Jareth's shackles. His skin beneath them was bubbled and aggravated, which combined with the cries of 'Ouchies!' left her guessing that these were made of iron as well. A helpful little goblin offered her a key, taken from the human's belt, and Sarah freed the Goblin King. "I love you, you ridiculous bastard, and you shouldn't make me worry like that."

Jareth grinned, carefully pushing his sleeves up and away from his tender wrists before reaching for Sarah. "Does that mean I get a kiss?"

"Maybe when I'm not so angry with you."

Chapter Text

Sarah hated corsets. She hated Court, Court functions, well-wishing missives from Noble Houses just sucking up to her, and most of all she hated that the Empress had planned her wedding. It was bad enough that she and Jareth had to have a prominent public event, without the entirety of the High Court being invited to the Labyrinth, which had grown a large pomegranate orchard just for the event. Even their goblins were there, riding chickens and on their best behavior.

Sarah rather liked referring to things as 'theirs'.

It had been a week after his kidnapping before Sarah had let Jareth kiss her. He was still trying to sufficiently apologize. It had been nearly a month before they had let the High Court know of their engagement. If Sarah had managed to get her way, their wedding would have been a small court event, with no more than three guests from each of the houses, and a reasonable white dress with a blessedly short ceremony.

Instead, Sarah was walking down the aisle in a dress that rivaled the one she had dreamt up over eight years ago, with a good three-hundred Sidhe and adopted humans watching what should have been a dear memory.

Of course, once she and Jareth were wed, they would have many centuries to give Caoilfhinn hell for relying on their support the way she did. They were the only ones in court who weren't frightened to death of the Empress at this point. It would be a good reminder of who had given her the power she now enjoyed.

But, slowly and majestically making her way toward Jareth and their handfasting, all Sarah could bring herself to truly look forward too were the moments when this was all done, and they could relax in the castle and just be two people deeply in love.

That would be nice.

A century and a half later:

Sarah poked her head into Jareth's study, still as curious as ever. She had seen, with her now well-trained magical senses, the letter from Eorlth come in. He wrote rarely these days, choosing to visit instead, so it was likely that the letter had some important information. After the sequence of events that had ended with their marriage, Sarah tried to keep up with the High Court's intrigue as much as she could.

There was another letter that she had been anticipating for the last century and a half, but it was slow in arriving, and every time Sarah attempted to broach the subject with Jareth, all she received were confused looks. Sarah honestly wasn't sure why she expected anything less of a Fae who had taken over eight years to properly woo her into marriage.

Sarah swung the door open wide, wider than she had to when she had come in last week, which made her frown down at the swollen belly that showed that Sarah was indeed very pregnant. One good thing about the baby being so visible on her physique was that Jareth watched her with proud, shining eyes and a smile, no matter his previous mood. Another not-so-fun side effect was that he was acting far too overprotective of her. Jareth already had a jealous streak a mile wide, which Sarah found endearing, but this was bordering on hovering. "Jareth, have you read Eorlth's letter yet?"

Jareth startled from the doodle he has been perfecting on the tax form. "Sarah? Oh, yes, I glanced at it. I suppose you wish to peruse it?" Jareth, shining eyes and heart-wrenching smile in attendance, proffered the letter at Sarah. "He wanted us to sign something or another to assist in his observational pursuits, so if you'll take care of that . . ."

Sarah was reading the letter with a smile. The thing Eorlth wanted them to sign was a release form for him to propose to someone outside their purview. This startled Sarah momentarily. She hadn't known that Jareth was Eorlth's liege. A wedding invitation was slightly more in accordance with her expectations. Sarah read a little further and smiled. Right about now Caoilfhinn would be looking over a very similar document. Sarah signed it quickly, before Jareth knew and could object. Then, using magic to make the signature true, Sarah turned her grin on Jareth. "Eorlth is getting married."

This drew Jareth's attention. "What?" This was not entirely surprising, as Eorlth had been nearing the end of the traditional years of eligible bachelorhood. "To whom?"

Jareth couldn't remember the last time Sarah had grinned this widely, and his heart thudded slowly as he waited for news he was beginning to dread. Allowing her husband's fear to peak, Sarah leaned forward before admitting, "Saoirse."

All that tension, for nothing. Jareth rolled his eyes at his silly darling. "Sarah, please be serious. Who is Eorlth going to wed?"

Sarah flipped the letter over and waved it in front of Jareth's nose. "I am entirely serious, Jareth. Your cousin is going to have the Empress as a sister in law."

A knock disturbed their peace even as Jareth blanched. A careful sniff from Sarah identified Caoilfhinn, who was always followed by a light scent of spring. Sarah opened the door and ushered the Empress in. She had mellowed a little with experience, though she was every bit as authoritarian as she had been as an adolescent Sidhe. A weary, worn, and frankly quite aged Lizabeth trailed behind the Empress, the little blonde sprite by her side looking as if she were training to be Caoilfhinn's next Guard Captain.

Worry lines around the Empress's eyes were evident as she thrust a parchment nearly identical to the one they had been reading before Jareth. "Did you have any idea this was going on?"

While Jareth shook his head in shock, Sarah nodded. "They've been enamored of each other since before Jareth and I wed."

Caoilfhinn sighed. "Happiness to them. I just would rather not lose my two best intelligence gatherers at the same time."

The expressions Caoilfhinn made gave a slightly different story. If anything, Sarah had become a master at reading Sidhe expressions, because none of them ever said the important things. "You're embarrassed," Sarah laughed. "Well, you oughtn't be. Saoirse has been hunting Eorlth for much longer than you have been concerned about marriage." The blonde child barely stifled a giggle at this, and Sarah smiled at the young Fae. "I think the best punishment you could give is to make the wedding a huge event. So, Labyrinth or Palace?"