Sarah Williams, since her permanent establishment in the Underground, was treated just as the queen you'd expect Jareth to marry. She was catered to, hand and foot; her food was prepared for her as she saw fit, even her clothes tailored and ironed daily. It was a wife's dream, so one thought. Pampered to the heavens and back, she was!

But, although she sought to appreciate all of these grand gestures from the King, she could not revel in them. Pomp and polished were not the style of Sarah Williams, nor would it ever be. Instead, she chose the simpler clothing most days, that of cotton, whose outfits consisted of pant and shirt combinations, much akin to riding, or generally sportier choices. She chose the outdoors over biding her time reading all day within the confines of the castle, often running through the woods in search of trinkets to adorn in shadow boxes she would make for her bedroom walls. Sarah hated, hated, hated being cooped up all day. It near drove her mad, and so she explored. It infuriated her wait staff to no end. As for the King? His infuriation knew no boundaries either, and this was much to Sarah's chagrin.

One morning in particular, just as the dew had begun to settle over the courtyard's grasses in cloudy masses, Sarah tiptoed out of her bedroom just as she did most mornings, and raced out the door as quiet as a mouse. She scrambled barefoot through the woods, on a mission to find acorns. She'd have to be home in time for breakfast, as Jareth had seen fit the night before to invite a neighboring king and queen for cordialities the next morning, to welcome them to the Underground (how unlike him!). No matter, Sarah crammed caps and nuts alike into the pockets of her nightgown, and carried them when she could fit no more, all the while soiling the cloth's hem, her hair falling loose from her hair tie to caress her face in the morning breeze.

Some hours later, well into breakfast's first hour, Sarah returned from her plod in the woods, disheveled and smiling as brightly as ever. She carried handfuls of acorns and caps in through the dining hall, as it was the only way to get to the staircase for her bedroom–Jareth nearly had a fit when he saw her. But all the while, as they walked up the stairs, as he chastised her while she bathed, and oiled, and dressed, she could not help but laugh. Those acorns would wait until the evening–and so would his calm. She loved both.