A/N: Sorry it's a bit late! As a reward, we FINALLY get to have a chapter from Sarah's POV, real and proper. Enjoy!

Sarah woke up to a huge mess in her bedroom. She'd fallen asleep on the ground, the half-finished game of Scrabble she'd started with Sir Didymus still sitting out in front of her. Every surface in the room was covered in a layer of what looked like glitter, and there was a pool of confetti on her rug from where the fireys had sat on a box of champagne poppers. She rolled on her back and sighed happily. It had been the best party she'd ever had, and certainly the most well attended. Never before had she been around people that didn't seem to shrink from her or avoid her at every turn. Hoggle, Ludo, and the rest treated her like she was just plain normal. She stretched out the kinks in her back, wondering when everyone had decided to return to the Underground.

"Shh! She's awake-a'!" a little voice said from on top of her bureau. Looking up, she saw three little brownies trying to hide behind her makeup bag and mirror. She smiled. Perhaps not everyone had left yet.

"Have you stayed here all night?" she asked.

"Oh yes-a." the tallest brownie answered, "Fraggity-goblins too. Nice place, good place, nice nice place. Never wanna waka-waka leave. Lookie!" The brownie behind the mirror pointed up towards her four-poster bed, where half a dozen goblins had strung up hammocks made out of her flannel night shirts between the posts, snoring in their different levels.

Sarah's mind whirred. Brownies and goblins! Could she keep them? As far as she knew, there were no rules about not keeping either in the house. She was unfamiliar with the actual care of magical creatures, though. She'd read stories of course, but her first-hand knowledge was non-existent.

Something in her gut told her that she should try bribery, especially the kind that could be eaten. She'd learned to trust this gut instinct over the years; it was usually right when it came to everything in the world that shouldn't make sense.

"You guys just stay here, ok? Don't let the others leave the room either," she said to the brownies before going down to the kitchen. Both they and the goblins had been awfully chaotic, both in the Labyrinth and at the party, and she hoped food would make them behave.

When Sarah got to the kitchen, she found a note from Karen on the counter.

"You slept in late, again! We tried to wake you a dozen times, but we had to go to Granny and Gramps's without you. Also, what happened to your room?"

Crap. So Karen had noticed. She'd have to think of a really good story this time to explain the mess, especially all the glitter. The fact that she hadn't mentioned the goblins was good, though. Maybe that meant goblins were the sort of magical creatures who could only be seen by a worthy few? It was worth asking about.

All that was in the cupboard in large enough quantities was some old cinnamon sugar oatmeal that no one in the house liked. So she stirred a giant pot of the stuff, thinking back to her adventure the night before. It shouldn't have happened the way it did. She considered herself a fantasy expert. She'd imagined hundreds of mythical worlds. She'd inhabited them through her books and shows and daydreams, breathed life into them and their characters, even acted some out. She always expected that when she really, truly encountered something magical (it had never been a question of if) that she'd be properly amazed by it.

But from the moment Sarah had been whisked away Underground, she hadn't once felt the need to just stop and stare. Somehow, it had felt more like putting on a pair of old ballet flats as opposed to the exotic glass slipper she'd always imagined. Though she felt much more at ease Underground than she'd ever felt Above, even with the near-death situations and fear of losing Toby, she felt cheated. Why didn't she react properly?

In frustration, she banged the wooden spoon on the side of the pot a little too hard and sprayed little bits of oatmeal all over her face and hair.

Well, she remembered as she picked the flakes out of her hair, there was one time she couldn't help but stare. Her dark tresses had been done up in flowing twists and she'd worn a proper ball gown that was fit for a princess. The man she'd been staring at was… well, in the moment at least, he'd been fit to be her prince.

She shooed that thought from her mind. Something about the Goblin King made her shoulders want to curl up into her neck. It was like the feeling she had right before dissecting frogs in biology; something was terribly wrong about the situation, and she wanted no part of it. That was why the ballroom dream disturbed her so much. How had he made her feel comfortable around him without her consent? Had the drugged peach been that powerful? She really didn't want to know. In any case, she didn't plan on eating anything she hadn't cooked with her own two hands ever again.

At this point the oatmeal was good enough. She grabbed some spoons and bowls and headed upstairs. The closer she got, though, the louder the thumps and screeches became. Oh please tell me they haven't completely destroyed my room, she hoped as she opened the door.

The inside was worse than she could have imagined. Her wooden chair and chest had been dismantled into foot long chunks and stacked up besides…something. It looked like all her books in a pile and covered in a few layers of her shaving cream. There was also her pedicure soaker jetting out the window while attached to the stick part of an old hobby horse. Worst of all was her closet door. It was only slightly ajar, but she had to cover her mouth with the crook of her elbow to avoid gagging at the stench that came from that little crack.

"What on EARTH is going on in here?" She yelled, looking all around the room for the culprits.

A little goblin popped his head out from a layer of her sheets. "You's back!" He ran/tripped over to her and latched onto her leg. "We thoughts you was gone forever!"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I was making you breakfast, I didn't go to Spain."

The goblin with three fingers and the deep voice said, "The brownies said we wasn't allowed to leave ever. We gots... scared."

"But looks!" a third goblin pointed out, "we made shelter and gots firewood and made a lavine!"

"Sure is complicated," Sarah muttered under her breath as she made eyes at the makeshift toilet in her closet, "but you didn't have to worry. I'm going to take care of you all now, and you'll never have to go all boy scouts on me again, ok?" They all wiped their brows dramatically. "But! Before I let you have this breakfast, you need to clean up everything in here, understood?"

"Oh sure, lady." A female goblin said. She and a chunky goblin in a green dress looked at each other, nodded their heads, and suddenly the room was back to the way it had been even before the party last night.

"What- how-?" Sarah said, trying to make sense of the instant shift.

"Oh, that's Kingy," the one wearing the dress said, "He gives us maaaagics."

Sarah's shoulders started creeping up into her neck at the mention of the Goblin King. She couldn't let that be a regular thing. "Ok guys. You want to stay here, right?"

"Right!" they all shouted.

"And you want to have breakfast?" she asked.

"Right!"

"Um, what is it?"

"Only if there's suuuugaaar."

Sarah scratched the back of her neck, "Well, it's cinnamon sugar oatmeal today-"

"YES I WANTS IT!"

"Right now!"

"Suuuuuggaaaar!"

"Ok then!" Sarah tried to look menacing with a ladle in one hand and the other hand pinning the oatmeal pot to her hip. "If you want to stay, and you want sugar breakfast, you need to follow the rules."

All the goblins plopped down in front of her and looked up, expectantly. The brownies had finally come out of hiding and were also listening. Good.

"First rule! No one mentions the Goblin King."

"But Kingy-"

Sarah gave the deep-voiced goblin a glare. "No. Kingy. He has no power over me, and I will not let him take you away. Do you want to be kicked into the Bog of Eternal Stench?" They were quick to shake their heads. "Good. I know Underground is where you came from and will always be your home, but I am never returning there as long as his pantsiness rules, and don't want to hear about him ever again."

Now that she'd finished the little speech she'd prepared while stirring oatmeal, she realized her captive audience would probably expect more than one rule. "Uhhh, and you have to do whatever I say. Now eat your oatmeal."

The hoard gave an unintelligible shout of excitement as they all plunged their faces into the pot, using the bowls as nothing more than stepping stools to get a better shot at the sugary oats.

Sarah sighed as she watched them slurp and burp. She'd meant what she said. Even if it had been nothing special, Underground had felt more like a home than her home ever had, but she was never going back as long as the Goblin King was there. She'd just have to find a way to bring the Underground Above to her. If that meant keeping goblins and brownies and calling on her friends a dozen times a week, she'd do it.

That deep part of her gut told her she had that power, too.

A/N: There you have it! I had never intended to make goblins a real feature in this story, but for some reason I couldn't get them out of my head when I was drafting this chapter. What say you? Do they stay, or nay?