A/N: Sorry I didn't update last week. Last week of school, papers to grade and report cards to write, you know the drill. As recompense, this chapter is extra long, and I'll be updating an extra time this week!

It felt like the whole kingdom was on fire. Even the fireys were complaining about the heat. Sarah had been gone less than a week and already the citizens of the Underground could tell their monarch was angrier than he'd ever been.

As soon as she left, there had been a terrifying show of fireworks from the highest tower of the castle, though there'd been nothing exciting or beautiful about the red and orange flares shooting dangerously close to the Goblin City. Even the really dumb goblins had run for cover, and some were still in hiding. Since then, the bog started boiling, sending the stench high in the air. A family of dragons moved into the hedge maze and was burning up layer upon layer of labyrinth. And the King sat in a cavern far below the castle, so far underground he was almost Above. Next to him was a bubbling sea of lava, just looking for a way to explode.

"Your majesty?" Mithir said, knocking on a stalagmite.

"Leave me, Mithir," the King ordered in a low voice, "I won't ask you again." His back was towards his advisor; all he could see of the King was a shadowy outline of his chaotic hair against the brilliance of the lava.

Mithir paused. Last night, he'd described to his betrothed, Sorcha, all the panic King was causing. He knew the King was upset about losing Sarah, but he couldn't understand why he wouldn't just pick himself up and try again. He wanted to talk to the king like a man bested in a game who was being a sore loser. All he'd need to do was give the King a few slaps on the back, play a rigged round of cards, and he should be back to normal. But Sorcha, in her infinite wisdom, had seen instead a man with a broken heart and a wounded pride, a far more complicated matter for a man as practical as Mithir. She'd suggested letting the Goblin King talk through his pain, telling Mithir to just keep saying "what else?" when the King was bearing his soul.

He gulped. Somehow, he didn't think it'd be that easy. But Sorcha was right on so many other occasions, so he spoke up. "My lord, I think you need to talk."

A giant bubble of lava popped beside Mithir, sending flecks of burning rock flying through the air. He only just managed to avoid them by flattening himself to the ground.

Time for a different tactic, Mithir though. "Your majesty, have you seen your kingdom? It's in ruins. It's literally a hot mess."

"Then, as my chief advisor, you'd best get to fixing it," he growled without turning to face Mithir, "I'm busy."

"With what? Being childish and-"

The King wheeled around. "Finish that sentence. I dare you."

Mithir gulped. He wanted to take a step back, then another and another, all the way up the stairs and into the safety of the library. He saw the fire in the King's eyes, the layers of anger that masked his pain.

After seeing that, Mithir knew this really was deeper than a fae unused to losing games. He wouldn't be any true help in the library, not when the King was like this. He sucked in a breath. Instead of backward, he took a step forward. Then another. The King's eyebrows rose ever so minutely. Soon Mithir was standing right in front of the King, and then he sat down beside him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered while looking at the ground, "I was out of line. I only want to help."

"Out of line indeed," the King said, examining his fingernails.

"Can you tell me what happened? Between you and-"

"That's your idea of help?" he said, pushing himself off the ground and sending a geyser of lava into the air, "Asking me to retell my great defeat? What, pray tell, would that do?"

"Well, if you don't tell me, we can't come up with some plan to fix whatever happened between the two of you and get Etain back."

The King gritted his teeth. "She goes by Sarah now. And she won't be coming back."

Mithir's stomach dropped off a cliff. He couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice when he asked, "Why?"

"BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T WANT ME!" The King's façade cracked down the middle, and where he'd stood, an ordinary, broken, fae stood in his place. "She said I have no power over her, and that means its over."

Mithir wasn't sure if this was the appropriate time to use Sorcha's phrase, not when he so desperately wanted to know how the King had lost power over his wife, but he decided to try it. "What else?"

The King scoffed. "What else? Well, the girl who came to my labyrinth was not my wife. Etain- no, Sarah- oh, whoever she is. She didn't remember anything! I created the whole labyrinth because she liked puzzles and strategies. I gave her subjects to rule over and get her through the Labyrinth, like any good Queen would have. I even called her precious and danced with her. How could she not remember?"

Mithir had been privy to certain aspects of Sarah's run, though he hadn't seen any dancing. Even so, none of what the King described resembled Etain much. "Sir? Is that really why you made the Labyrinth?"

"Of course. I found that book in her room she'd been reading about a maze, and I knew that as a ruler she'd be interested in strategy-"

"You mean The Man in the Maze?"

"Yes, yes," he said, waving his hands as he began to pace, "that's the one. About mind games."

Mithir shook his head and gave a little laugh. "You've got it backwards. That book was Etain's favorite because it's about love. I know. Many times growing up she'd ask me to play the part of the Knight and run the maze to meet her in the middle and live happily ever after."

"It's…it's not about logic?" the King stalled in his pacing.

"Your Majesty. Let me tell you about a young girl named Etain. She reminds me very much of this girl named Sarah you tell me stories about. They both love play-acting, especially stories about quests, and good and evil, and romances. They both are enchanted by the idea of a true love who would sweep them off their feet."

"Etain would never scoff at nobility and run around like a wild thing the way this Sarah does. I almost wonder if they're really the same person."

"The girl I knew named Etain had parents who wished her to grow up very prim and proper. She was being groomed for a place in court, even a title if she could get it. She was taught how to speak softly, defer, and demur by these parents, and she learned her lessons well. Sarah has no such parents. Though you say her father loves her, Sarah can't have that same guidance Etain did."

"So Sarah just needs a few etiquette lessons? That hardly sounds sufficient." he said, then muttered under his breath, "You didn't see how she smashed my ballroom."

Mithir shrugged. "Sarah's older than Etain was when she started learning such things. I don't know. But sire?" He stood up and looked the King in the eyes. "Sarah sounds like the same person Etain always was. She's the person you would have met if you'd been married longer."

The King rolled his eyes to break contact. "I don't believe that, not for a second. Not that it matters now. She's clearly said I have no power over her. Couldn't give the brat an etiquette lesson if she begged me."

"Would you?"

The King laughed. "Give her etiquette lessons? Forgive me if I gag."

"No," Mithir said. The King had turned to stare at the lava pools, but he was still listening. "I meant just visit her. If you could."

"I won't pretend like I don't know what you're doing."

"What am I doing?"

The King turned his head just a hint over his shoulder. "You're trying to get me to admit to some affection for the girl. It won't work."

"Why?"

"Because I need a queen!" he faced Mithir, "Not some silly girl who likes to play with her toys. If she'd come here, remembered who she was, and turned back into Etain, this would all be well and good. But she didn't. And now she won't."

Mithir chewed his lip. He hadn't wanted to bring this up. "You'll die if she doesn't, you know."

The King froze.

"You must have heard rumors. They try to cover these things up, but some hints sneak out. Queens dying when their Kings were killed in battle, Kings falling mortally ill days after their Queens died in childbirth. We fae can live forever, but if we don't, we take our loved ones with us."

"And Sarah is mortal."

Mithir nodded. "Sire, forgive me if I overstep, but I know you must have some feelings for the girl. You wouldn't be so upset if you didn't."

The King stalled for a few moments, looking out at the lava. It was calmer now, not quite so bubbly or hot as it had been. "When Etain and I married, I gave her certain powers. I imagine that's how she's able to order my powers ineffective against her now, actually. On the day we wed, I told her that I would cherish her, respect her, and treat her like a Queen. I feel neither respect nor a desire to cherish, but there is something there, yes."

"Something strong enough to motivate you through whatever challenges lie ahead? Strong enough to take you Above again?"

"Blast it, Mithir, yes. Ok? Yes. There is strength to fight an army in my feelings. But she's turned me down once! Why should she not a second time?"

"Because Etain dreamed of a knight who would fight with her and for her! Not a tyrannical King who tries to thwart her at each turn."

"I thought she liked mind games. How was I to know she wanted love?"

Mithir huffed. "Well it doesn't matter now, does it? As long as you don't play the villain again, she won't hate you. By attempting a second time, she'll see you persevere and she'll admire you. And when you let her know your strong-as-armies feelings for her…"

"…she'll return home as my Queen."

"Close. I think it'd be more accurate to say she might also love you."

The King took a step back, as if he hadn't considered the possibility of Sarah returning his feelings. "How?"

"You're the Goblin King," Mithir said, smiling, "I'm sure you can figure it out."

The King gave a small smile in return before his face resumed its stoic block. "You breathe one word of this conversation to another soul and I'll relocate you to the Bog, permanently. You realize this, right?"

"Sorcha wouldn't be too pleased with the bog as our honeymoon spot. I'll keep my tongue tied, your majesty."

"Who's Sorcha?" the King said, already halfway up the stairs.

Mithir dropped his hands to his sides. "I give up!"

They climbed up through they layers of the castle til they reached the King's study in his highest tower. Looking out over the land, they could see nothing but a cool, dark mist throughout the Underground. The fires were nowhere to be found.

A/N: There you have it! Review if the mood strikes.