Hurts Like Hell

By: Nikki Kelly

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, but a vodka fairy visited me recently.

Author's Notes: Nin is a bad girl. I haven't posted on this forever! Moved and gots a new house (loaded with goblins btw) and been a busy bee, but I have finally gotten past my wretched writer's block and updated! Yay! (Please don't tar and feather me )

Luvs,

Nin

Chapter 13: Into the Abyss

Sullie the crow was the first to turn Morgan's eye to the fact the Goblin Prince was quite mad. In the Mad Hatter sort of way of course, but the news was still rather distressing. Eavesdropping in on the whispers of all sorts of Unseelie fairy folk, Sullie had heard the tales of Jaron's deranged screams frightening off even the steeliest of Unseelie in the dead of night and his maniacal ramblings running some of the smaller hobgoblins from the dark dungeons. Sullie had also been privy to Jaron's latest escape attempt and what he relayed to Morgan sorely disappointed her. It had seemed that Jaron had escaped his orc captors and went racing out into the raging blizzards of the Red Snow Northlands, leaving a trail of bright ruby blood in the pristine snow. When the guards caught up to him, he was having a rather animated conversation about spoons with a withered bush. This worried Morgan even more. She had known that his mind was slipping, but the Goblin Prince seemed to be falling fast. Morgan blamed the time he spent trapped in his gyrfalcon form and was kept in a rusted cage beside Mab's bed.

Mab, in her own dark madness, did not notice the decline of the Goblin Prince. Nor did she notice that no matter what inventive torture she devised, he failed to flinch much these days. She was too intent on forcing his will from him. It had been seven long years and not once had he even come close to choking out the words needed to finish her ancient curse. This pleased Morgan at the very least. What Sullie whispered to her next, pleased her even more. Jaron's family was sending out rescuers… Kidnappers. This was good. That meant that it was nearly time to give the Goblin King a visit and find out what their plan was. It benefited Morgan much more if the Goblin Prince was at home and no longer her ward.

At the present, Morgan was in her private quarters of Raghnall Castle in the northern city of Ahearn. Mab was keeping them in the Red Snow Northlands for this season at Court and it made the Sorceress miserable. Morgan loathed the cold. She had the orc servants build the biggest blaze possible in the fire pit dug into the middle of her sitting room and remained as near to it as possible. Her violet eyes were staring at the flickering flames and her lithe body was wrapped in her thickest furs. There was a soft knock upon her door and she barked out a quick command to enter. A lovely Fae woman dressed in a simple gown of midnight blue, stepped in and stood across the fire from Morgan, tentatively. Her grey eyes reminded Morgan of wisps of smoke and her dark hair was piled in curls atop her head. She was Vesper Moraine, Mab's personal assistant, and one of Mab's Ladies-In-Waiting. Even Morgan, who knew a little about everything in this world and the next, had solved few of the secrets that followed this odd Fae. Vesper was quite secretive, but had been at Mab's side for the better part of a century. Morgan raised one eyebrow at the woman and Vesper blinked in response.

"Yes?" Morgan asked, cordially, for Vesper was one of the few in the Darkling Court she dared to say she liked.

"I need another sleeping draught, Morgan."

Morgan smiled, shyly. "Then why not see the healer?"

Vesper gave her a frustrated look. "His are not powerful enough and you know it."

Morgan snorted and gestured towards a small vial on a nearby desk. Vesper clutched in it one hand until her knuckles turned white and took a deep breath. "Thank you, Morgan."

Morgan studied her, intently. "And what are your dreams made of, Vesper?"

"They are not dreams… It is nightmares that plague me." Vesper leaned against the desk, wearily, and put one shaking hand over her forehead. The other went to fondle the silver locket at her throat. "Nightmares of all the mistakes I made."

"Well, one does not make their way into Mab's Ladies without rolling a few heads." Morgan shrugged. "All in the Darkling Court have skeletons in the closet. Care to tell ol' Morgie a few of yours? I am the Keeper of Secrets, you know."

Vesper gave her a dirty look and dropped her hand from the locket. "You know very well that my secrets are mine to keep."

"Can't blame a gal for trying." Morgan shrugged again and snuggled deeper into her furs. "Did our Queen let you free for the evening then?"

"She is busy torturing her favorite pet. It sickened me." Vesper shook her head. "I do not know how he has survived this long."

"Jaron is stubborn… Incredibly stubborn. They say it is the Irish-mortal that burns through his veins."

"Yes, but he'll be dead soon if he doesn't say her words."

Shrill screams echoed throughout the halls of Raghnall Castle and Vesper clutched the vial in her hand tighter. Her eyes flittered towards the doorway and back to Morgan. "I thank you again, Morgan."

"Sleep like the dead, dearie…" Morgan replied, cheerfully.

Vesper gave her an odd look before taking her leave of the Sorceress. She stopped outside Morgan's door and again her hand fluttered over the locket at her heart, but then flew down to pluck the cork from the vial so that she could down the draught.

Jareth was not surprised to find that Sarah had left before he had risen. What surprised him was that she had not tried to follow the rescue party to Amarantha. Sometime in the wee morning hours, she and Ashe had left for the south. The royal family presumed that she was returning to Sirrocco Forest on Dragon's Eye Island and to Wyntr le Fey's keep there. It was where she had spent the majority of the last four years. At least Wyntr could talk her out of any harebrained schemes. Though Wyntr le Fey, Morgan's sister, had never been in any right mind since Jareth had first known her, she would not let Sarah get herself killed. She was the Alchemist, the Keeper of Sins, and the Witch of Sirrocco Forest on Dragon's Eye Island. She was also mad as a March Hare at times. Yet, the woman was brilliant when it came to magic and teaching others who had just come into theirs. That was why Sarah had went to her after burning down his hedge maze. He hoped she would stay there and out of trouble.

Before his grandparents could find time to lecture him about his latent love life, Jareth returned to the Goblin City. He hoped to come up with a plan that was slightly better than the puerile kidnapping plot his family had schemed with those repulsive pirates. Upon entering his goblin filled throne room, he threw himself upon his throne and stared up at the ceiling. To his slight dismay a rather square-faced goblin stared back at him. The poor little bugger had been pinned to the ceiling with what appeared to be lawn darts by his comrades and was waving down at Jareth, quite merrily.

"Hi King!"

"Will someone fetch Blort from the ceiling?" Jareth asked, dryly, and several of the more aerobatic and aeronautic goblins set to the task. Within seconds Blort was free and falling towards the stone floor with a shrill screech. Upon his landing, the entire roomful of goblins cackled. Jareth suppressed a smile as the creature rose to dust himself off.

"Very nice form, Blort." Jareth studied the goblin with mild interest.

Blort was sporting a rather interesting hat made of a muffin wrapper and most of what looked like odd combination of an Aboveground magazine and some sort of silver tape for the remainder his wardrobe. He approached Jareth with a small envelope in one hand. "King gots a letter today."

"Splendid… Like my day could not become any more unbearable." Accepting the slightly smudged envelope, Jareth opened it with flourish. His eyes scanned it quickly and his brow furrowed.

Wyntr le Fey had invited him to dinner at her keep in Sirrocco Forest. That would make for an interesting evening since she was both Sarah's host and mentor. With what wretched gossips the small folk could be, Jareth was sure she had heard of his family's inane plot and wanted to contribute is some way. Though, if both le Fey sister's were on their side, that would be a mighty help indeed. Baring his teeth, he tapped the letter against them and weighed his options. With a sly smile, he tossed the letter over his shoulder and rose.

"Blort, tell Abby to ready my third best suit." Jareth ordered, regally. "I have a dinner invitation tonight."

"Wyntr!" Sarah burst through the door to Wyntr's laboratory, Ashe chattering, excitedly, at her heels. "I need your help!"

The Alchemist and Witch of Dragon's Eye Island peered up at her from her work table, her amber eyes magnified by the strange goggles strapped around her frizzy golden-red hair. Nothing short of beautiful, Wyntr le Fey was, never-the-less, a strange and odd woman. She was a master of magic and a accomplished wizard whose studies on magic were taught to the youth of the entire Underground. She was the first of the Fae to combine the powers of sorcery and alchemy to create her legacy, the enchanted book entitled The Underground. Her tome was a staple to all schoolchildren in the realms, Seelie and Unseelie alike, for it taught of everything about their world and somehow the chain of books managed to constantly update themselves with the newest information. Like all the Fae, Wyntr was tall, graceful, and devastatingly beautiful, but she was a bit scatter-brained at times. Sarah could not count how many times she had to follow after the witch to make sure she didn't injure herself in her studies. Wyntr gave a snort of acknowledgement to the pair and adjusted her shabby and patched robes before going back to the small bit of mechanics and clockworks before her.

"Ain't someone always needin' my help? Treffun! Bring me my smallest pins!" Wyntr called to the faun snoozing in a small nest of beddings that he had fashioned in one corner. A empty bottle threatened to fall from his fingers as he snored. "Blasted faun's been into the wine cellar again."

Sarah rushed to the nearest cabinet and using expertise gained in her lengthily stay with Wyntr, she produced the pins the Witch requested. She mumbled a thanks as she accepted them.

"They've done it! The Seelie hired kidnappers for Jaron!" Sarah gushed, excitedly, at Wyntr's right side. "They're on their way to get him… Right now!"

Wyntr mumbled something unintelligible and reached for another tool. "Oh?"

"Yes. I need you to contact your sister. We need to tell her that they are coming and she must help them!"

"Morgie? Oh, she'll only do what benefits her, by Joan… Hand me that bit of plating there, will ya?"

"You must talk to her! They need all the help they can get!" Sarah did as she requested and Wyntr polished the piece with the palm of her fingerless gloves.

'I didn't say she wouldn't help them… Blasted piece of clockwork…" Wyntr slammed the plating down with her fist and gave a satisfied smirk when it clicked into place. "There we are."

"Wyntr this is important! We need to hel-"

Wyntr held up one hand to silence the young girl and experience made Sarah go silent, for she knew the Witch had something important to say. Lifting up the clockwork she had been repairing, Wyntr revealed it to be a mechanical owl made of gold. Winding its small crank, carefully, Wyntr murmured, happily, when the creature began to move and flap its metal wings. It cocked its tiny head at Wyntr as she gave it a bright smile.

"This is a present for the Goblin King." Wyntr pulled off her goggles. "You like it?"

"It's beautiful." Sarah resisted the urge to reach out and touch the small clockwork creature as it gave a tiny hoot. "But why did you make it for him?"

"I made it for you to give to him."

Sarah's jaw dropped. "What in the name of sweet Rhiannon are you talking about?"

"I've invited him for dinner." Wyntr turned, busying herself with another pierce of clockwork on the table and putting on a rather complicated pair of spectacles.

"You invited him to dinner? Why?" Sarah asked, her eyes wide. Ashe chattered in agreement.

Wyntr looked back up at Sarah, her glasses magnifying her eyes and giving her an owlish look. "'Cause Morgan asked me to. Now, help me wake up that lazy faun… We've a dinner to make."

"Is Morgan going to help us?"

"Make dinner? Course not. She never could find her way around a kitchen when she wasn't brewing a potion."

"No! Is she going to help us with Jaron?"

"I'd expect so… Says she wants to talk to you and him." Wyntr peeled off her fingerless gloves and stood over the snoring faun. She nudged him with the tip of her boot. "Wake up, you ungrateful little drunk."

"Oh, come on, Wyntr… Just a few more minutes." He slurred and tucked his horned head under one hairy arm.

"No, no more minutes. We have guests coming. We got to make dinner."

"We never have guests!"

"Morgan is coming."

The faun's little eyes popped open widely. "She's coming here?"

Wyntr nodded. "And soon, so you need to be off to making supper. Make plenty 'cause the Goblin King'll be here too."

"The Goblin King?" Now she had Treffun's full attention. "What's he doing coming here?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

His eyes flitted to Sarah and then back to Wyntr. "She's here."

Wyntr gave Sarah a smile. "He's just going to have to deal with that… Now get a move on, Treffun."

Treffun's eyes widened and he rushed from the room to do as he was told. Wyntr turned back to her table, busying herself with stray pins while Sarah watched her and fumed.

"Have you gone completely loony, Wyntr?" Sarah yelped. "Inviting him here aft-"

Wyntr held out one hand to silence her. "You came to me to learn what it was to be a Queen. Lessons are over, little Sarah. The time has come for you to put my lessons to good use."

Sarah sunk down into a spare stool and frowned. "I don't know if I'm ready, Wyntr."

"Oh, pooh! Of course you are." Wyntr chuckled and leaned against the heavy wooden table. "No doubt in my mind."

Ashe rubbed against Sarah's leg, reassuringly, and gave her a encouraging chirp. Sarah rubbed his head, absently. She had known for years that this day would come when her lessons would be through and she would have to prove herself worthy to be Queen.

Taking a deep and even breath, she squared her shoulders and her eyes went back to Wyntr. "When is he going to be here?"

The rescue trio rode hard and by the end of the first day's ride, they all felt like they had been beaten by a gaggle of Trolls. When the sight of the Red Snow River was finally before them, they were more than ready to make camp and rest for the night. The Hollow Tors stood, ominous, in the distance, colored golden by the quickly setting sun. Alyx left to hunt their dinner on the rocky moors with her long bow before she lost the light. Morven nominated Roland and himself to stay behind to set up the camp and start the fire to Alyx's frown of displeasure, but she said not a word and left to hunt. Roland started a pot of coffee on the fire and sat back, staring at the flickering flames. Morven sat nearby and took a healthy swig from his flask. He offered it to Roland, with a smile.

"Here… Go on an' splice the main brace a bit, Prince. It's the finest whiskey from Honah Lee."

Roland took the flask and a drink. He sighed and handed it back. "Thanks. I needed that."

"No worries, mate… So, how long it been since you heard any tale of the Goblin Prince? Has anyone gone after 'im before?" Morven asked.

"It's been ages since I've 'eard anythin' but them dreadful rumors that leak out from the Unseelie Court… Tales that he's gone mad or that she's magicked him to be trapped in his gyrfalcon form for good…" Roland sighed, wearily. "We dinna send no one in 'fore now. Many went on their own accord and against our advice… They was tryin' to get word on 'im or anythin'. A lot of the fairy folk went and most of 'em never came back."

"He was known as the Friend of Fairies." Morven took another swig of his flask.

"Not a one came up with anythin' solid. Canna get that close to 'im, I suppose… Ain't heard from me friend, Trog Magpiebeak of Goodfellow Glen, in 'bout a year or so."

Morven shook his head. "Then we'll have our work cut out for us, huh, me bucko?"

"I'm hopin' yer friend's got a good plan." Roland commented.

"Knowing Aneurin, he'll pull one outta his arse… He's always been good at gettin' us out of a pickle. Never seen a pirate so uncommonly lucky as 'im… Well, 'cept me mate from the Above, Jack Sparrow… Now there's a pirate for ya! Never seen a man so cursed and lucky at the same time…"

Roland nodded as Alyx returned to camp, a pair of rabbits dangling from one gloved hand. She went to work down by the river, cleaning the meat, but remained silent towards the pair by the fire. Roland's dark eyes watched her movements, carefully. "Yer mate… He's got some secrets, eh?"

Morven nodded. "Always has. I find out new things 'bout 'im every day."

"If he knew her, then you gotta know Alyx too." Roland turned to the pirate captain, hope filling his chest. "You must know somethin' of her."

"She that gal they called the Girl Who Wished Herself Away? Aye, I knew the lass for a time." Morven admitted, poking at the fire with a stick, thoughtfully.

Roland sat up with interest. "He dinna really kill her, did he?"

Morven sighed. "He didn't kill the girl… Belay them thoughts… We need to be worrin' 'bout your cousin right now, savvy? End o' discussion."

Alyx approached to set up the meat upon the spit so Roland dropped the conversation. Crossing to her bedroll, she produced cigarette makings from her pack. Rolling a cigarette deftly, she lit it, and inhaled deeply. She handed to Morven, who took a deep drag as well, sighing contently.

"Oh, would ya tell me a bedtime fairytale, Aneurin?" Morven asked as he made himself comfortable. "Tell me the story of how we saved the Goblin Prince."

She blew out smoke circles, absently. "I'm thinkin' on it, Morven."

Morven smirked. "You won't get far, smokin' this stuff. Have a taste there, Prince. It'll cure what ails ya."

Roland accepted the cigarette with one quirked eyebrow. "Fire Grass then?"

"An' only the finest! Comes straight from the Dragon Wastes on the wings of pixies. Aneurin cured this batch 'imself. We'll all rest good and proper tonight, I'll wager."

Roland smirked and took a drag from the offered cigarette. "Jaron, and I enjoyed this sort o' fun in the Enchanted Wood 'fore his banishment… Sittin' by a fire and enjoyin' some Fire Grass and good batch o' whiskey on a midsummer's night… Those were the days… I miss the clod."

Alyx took a drag from the offered cigarette and looked towards the river, solemnly, her thoughts on the missing clod. She passed it to Morven, who decided a change of subject was in order to break the silence.

"I forgot to ask your enchantin' sister somethin' rather important back there, Prince." Morven screwed his face. "She befuddled me with her… Hospitality an'-"

"Rowan? Oh, donna mind her. She be a harsh woman." Roland said with a shrug. "To much like mother, ya see."

"Ah… Any-who, how are we to be returning the Goblin Prince's magic to 'im? That be something not within the powers of a mere pirate, yer grace." Morven made a series of rather complicated gestures with his hands as he spoke. "Though, I do know a few witches who might be able to help a bit… Given the right persuasion."

"We're to use this." Roland produced Jaron's royal medallion from the parcel Rowan had given him before he left Amarantha. "Me grandfather had it enchanted. Once he wears this, his magic returns."

Morven took the royal medallion and studied it. "Pretty piece, but not my type of trinket, eh Aneurin?"

Alyx leaned back on her bedroll watching the flames dance in the fire-pit and spoke, slowly. "I've been thinkin' a little…"

"Dangerous territory, mate." Morven joked.

"First off…" Alyx ignored him. "We should glamour Roland a bit. He can't be too recognizable. We can't have the Banshee Prince ridin' our coattails into Bergtroll."

"Oh, right… How 'bout an elf? I'm really good at those kinda charms." Morven cracked his knuckles, playfully. "We use Blinken and Nod disguises a lot in our business."

"I can glamour me self. Me father made me practice in case I got in a bit o' trouble in me youth." Roland stated and let his best glamour cast over him. The spell made him to look like a much younger and smaller built Fae with red hair and green eyes. His skin was much paler than before and he bore modest freckles across his cheeks.

"That'll do, bucko. That'll do." Morven took one of the spits from the fire and began to serve their dinner.

Alyx leaned back, lazily, with the cigarette, staring up at the mountains. "I also say when we get to Bergtroll on the 'morrow, we should pose as muscle for hire… Huntsmen, or something of that sort. Maybe cruise the slave markets a little. We're bound to run into some Unseelie Courtiers and-"

"Ya think they'll just take us right into their bosoms?" Morven laughed, heartily. "We may be pirates, but we'll be workin' for this one, bucko."

Alyx threw him a sharp look. "You don't think I know that?"

Roland watched the pair, amused. "You both donna act like Captain and first mate at all. You act like kin."

Alyx cast the prince a sharp glance and began to eat her dinner in silence.

"He's my brother o' sorts. Best mates, me an' 'im is. Saved each others lives more times than I'd care to count." Morven smirked, his fork almost to his mouth. "He's young and gets into a bit o' trouble now and again."

Alyx gave him a glare and Morven just chewed his food, happily. Roland finished his dinner, quickly, and stared off at the mountains.

"Do you know anyone in Bergtroll?" Roland asked. "Any allies?"

"'Fraid not… Last trip through, we failed to make many mates." Morven stated and began his version of the tale. "See we rode from Amarantha to Bergtroll to have Aneurin's shield made of dragon's hide an' the troll runnin' the stand tried to screw him. Bein' the feisty Genki he is, Aneurin called him out. Next thing I know, we're bein' chased by twelve trolls with werewolves through the old mines winding through the Hollow Tors. Them Genki have a rather short cannon fuse, you see-."

Alyx slammed her plate down on the ground. "You're a damned liar!"

"Me?" Morven feigned innocence.

"If I recall, we went to Bergtroll to sell your dragon's blood and kelpie eggs. My shield was crafted long after that wretched trip. You were the one being screwed by the troll and then you threatened to kill him." Alyx remarked. "Then you ended up in prison and then guards got after us in the mines when I went in to rescue you."

"Same thing I said in more words." Morven waved his hand, dismissively. "Point bein', we don't wanna piss anyone off on this trip. Try to be a little friendlier this time, wiil ya?"

"We need to rest. Tomorrow will be a long, bad day." Alyx snapped as she pulled her hat down over eyes and ignored the men laughing at the fire.

Jareth transported himself to Dragon's Eye Island and Sirrocco Forest shortly after readying himself for Wyntr's dinner invite. Sirrocco Forest was a rather special forest, in the fact that the leaves of every tree did not grow green, but grew as silver, gold, and diamonds. Eons ago this had been the very forest that the Twelve Dancing Princesses of Aboveground fable had slipped through. In the northern corner of the island was the lake with the ruins of the enchanted castle at the center. Jareth knew the tale all too well, for he had been one of the Twelve Princes that escorted the mortal princesses. In some tales he was the escort of the eldest and in some the youngest, but never the matter, he had been there. Reaching out with one gloved hand, he brushed the leaves of a diamond tree, thoughtfully. That had been some time ago, when he was still a young, foolish prince himself. He was no young fool these days.

"Hello Jareth."

Cursing himself for getting lost his past and letting himself become caught unawares, Jareth whirled about at the voice. Sarah stood nearby, underneath a silver tree. She wore a dress that was the same silvery emerald as her eyes and there was a strange little tick-tock creature perched on her shoulder. She looked beautiful and regal. Like his Queen. She even wore her informal crown over her curled ringlets.

"Sarah…" Jareth peered around for her pest. "And where is your winged menace?"

"Not far. Wyntr sent me to welcome you when she felt you enter her forest…" Her nose wrinkled and she gave him a smile. "I've brought you a gift."

Jareth's eyebrow quirked at her choice of words. "A gift?"

"Yeah and it's not for any ordinary Goblin King either." Raising her hand to her shoulder, she gave a low coo to the bit of mechanics on her shoulder and it fluttered to her hand in a whir of clockworks. She gave a shy smile and held the gift towards Jareth. Jareth held out his hand in return and the small creature fluttered to his wrist. It was a small owl made of tick-tock gears. It swiveled it's golden head and gave an enthusiastic hoot.

"Thank you." Jareth replied, a little in awe. "I have never seen it's equal."

"Wyntr made him… I've been calling him Bubo." Sarah confessed with a slight blush. "You know? Like in Clash of the Titans?"

Jareth smiled. "Is that like the Return of the Jedi?"

Sarah laughed. "Kinda. C'mon. Oh and don't worry, because I made the dinner."

One of his eyebrow's arched and she chuckled.

"I didn't poison you."

"A relief to be sure…" Jareth let Bubo fly from his fingers and the owl flitted towards Wyntr's keep. He offered his arm to Sarah. "My Lady?"

There was no hesitation as she took his arm and let him lead her towards the keep. That made him happy.

"Has Morgan arrived?" He asked, hoping to keep things calm between them.

"Not yet." She threw him a questioning glance. "Do you really think she will help us?"

"Morgan will help us. For some reason, it benefits her if Jaron is roaming about freely." Jareth replied firmly. "Though, I can not fathom how the hiring of those bloody pirates is going to aid us in any way, shape, or form."

"The Seelie's gone and hired pirates? How fascinating!" Morgan chuckled and they found her beneath a gold tree at the front of the keep. The Sorceress was at home on her island and wore a dress made of the golden leaves that grew there.

"Yer both late." Wyntr appeared at the massive doorway, a frown on her beautiful face. The Alchemist was in her normal tattered gown and had a pair of broken goggles holding back her unruly hair. She snorted. "An' look at ya'll… Dressed up like yer goin' somewheres fancy."

Waving one gloved hand towards the courtyard, she conjured a table and chairs for them all. "Don't just stand there. Make yerselves comfortable an' let's get this meeting underway."

They all settled into their seats and Morgan peered around the table with a sly smile on her face. "So… Pirates, I hear?"

Jareth groaned. "It is the most wretched plan I've heard since when Clud and Slud attempted to raise a coup against the chicken population of my city. These mangy pirates were entirely Rowan Amarantha's idea."

"Hey, technically, I came up with the kidnapping idea first!" Sarah contested and she quickly explained the plan to Morgan.

"So these pirates intend on making a fool of the Queen of Air and Darkness?" Morgan cackled and twirled one of her dark tresses in amusement. "They are either brave or mad."

"I would suggest both!" Jareth remarked, dryly.

"They'll need yer help and guidance, Morgie." Wyntr broke in. "They're already on the move from Amarantha. They ride for Bergtroll as we hold this meeting."

"Then they are mad." Morgan leaned back in her chair and chewed on one black nail, thoughtfully. "They had best ride like the wind, for I fear your brother will not last much longer in her clutches, Jareth. He's gone mad as a hatter."

"What do you mean?" Jareth frowned.

"His last escape would have been a victory if it weren't for the debate he held with a dead shrub about the many uses of soup spoons." Morgan replied, dryly. "His will is growing weaker and weaker because his mind is nearly gone. He has little time before he will succumb to Mab's curse and then you'll never get him back."

"All they need to do is get close to him. The spells I helped Oberon place on his amulet are strong enough to give him back his powers." Wyntr replied. "Once it touches his skin, he's free from her vile clutches."

"And the curse?" Jareth asked.

"If your brother is strong enough, he will break any curse. He is a Sindhe!" Wyntr replied firmly and threw Morgan a look. "You are his keeper. You must help keep him safe until they can get the medallion around his neck."

Morgan gave a bitter laugh. "Easier said than done, dear sister. He delights in annoying his captors until they peel the flesh from his bones! He is lucky to have lived this long!"

"Maybe Mab would have less time to concentrate on Jaron if she had other things to worry about…" Sarah spoke up as the beginnings of a plan formed in her mind. "Say if she was forced to play hostess to visitors?"

"What are you getting at, precious?" Jareth asked, curious.

Sarah took a deep breath and began. "We are Goblin Royalty, right? The Goblin Realm falls under both Courts, so she would have to play hostess if we came calling. She won't risk a civil war within her own court by offending us and the goblin horde."

"Are you proposing that we season within the Unseelie Court?" Jareth asked, dumbfounded.

"I just think we should be there as back up… Just in case."

"I believe it would be better if you alone came calling, young Sarah…" Morgan replied, her eyes glinting. "It has long been a tradition that Goblin royalty spend a short amount of time within our Court, no matter what their status. It is only right that their Queen comes to us, for before any can fully rule the goblin horde, they must understand the dual sides of the creatures. You should come to us alone… Less suspicion if you are without Jareth."

"She'll not be going into that viper's den alone." Jareth insisted.

"She won't be." Wyntr replied with a cheery smile and whistled. Ashe came bounding from the house and took his place beside Sarah after giving Jareth a short snarl. "She'll have Ashe and there's no better protection than a gryphon in this world or the next."

"Jareth." Something in Sarah's voice made Jareth stop the retort at his lips and he turned to look at her. Her hand covered his on the table and she gave him a brave smile. "I can do this. Will you trust me?"

He looked down at their twined fingers and back to her eyes before giving a nod. "With my life."

"Then let me do this for us."

He sighed. "I still do not like the idea of you going with only that beast as protection."

"She will be under my wings, Jareth. I'll let no harm come to your Queen. Besides…" Morgan gave the girl a wink. "I've got a feeling that she can take care of herself."

"Then we have ourselves a secondary plan? Sarah shall go to the Dark Court as the Goblin Queen and distract from our little rescue party while Morgie steers them in the right direction." Wyntr rose and clapped her hands." Splendid. Now we can eat. Treffun! Where are you, you little loafer?"

The next morning, at the first twinkle of dawn, Alyx was the first to awaken. She crept down to the river and squatted down to wash her face, pulling down her muffler in the process. Cupping the crisp, crystal clear water in her palms, she splashed her face and looked towards Bergtroll with dark thoughts glooming in her mind. They would reach the city by the early evening, if they rode hard enough. She did not have good memories of the place. She cupped her hands to drink.

"Good mornin', Aneurin." Roland said, brightly, from behind her.

She gasped and covered her face quickly, before spinning around to face the smiling prince. "That'll be good way to get yer throat slit, Highlander."

"My apologies." Roland frowned. "Why do ya hide yer face? Are ya wanted?"

"All pirates are wanted men… I hide my face to cover me scars." Alyx began to trudge back towards the camp. She barked out over one shoulder. "Be quick! We've a long ride ahead."

Roland watched Alyx leave with dark and wise eyes. The Highland Prince was no fool. That small Genki was hiding something and Roland would put royal gold on the fact that it had something to do with Alyx's disappearance. After he finished filling his water bag and rinsing his face, he joined the others in saddling their mounts and stowing the gear. Alyx led the trio as they began their ride towards Bergtroll, making sure she rode a few lengths ahead of the others.

Roland leaned forward on his saddle horn and watched Alyx, closely. "Your friend be mighty strange, Morven. Is he wanted? That why he covers his face like that?"

Morven laughed. "We're all wanted, mate. Either by misplaced wives or the law. We're pirates."

"But, why does he cover his face so?"

"Them of the Genki are not known for their peaceful ways. 'Sides that, he's been cut up pretty badly on our adventures. He's quite the lil' warrior."

"Yes, but most warriors wear their scars as badges of honor. Why hide 'em?"

Morven racked his brain for a quick answer. "Pirate, 'member? His scars make him pretty distinguishable. 'Sides that, he's ugly as a mule… Saves us from havin' to look at 'im all day."

"You really are pirates then?" Roland asked, still struck by disbelief of the pair. "You actually ransack ships on the high seas?"

"We dabble in many things, Yer Grace." Morven replied with a sly smile. "Piracy is only one of our offered services."

"Which are?"

"Well, kidnapping is obvious in this case. We're also into pirating, some light mercenary work, sales, charms and potions, curses, hexes, strong arms, dragon and basilisk eggs, parcel delivery, fraud, displacement, farming, deception, limericks-"

"Enough. So you be a jack-of-all-trades?"

"Aye and master o' none. Aneurin'd go farther in sorcery if he had the teacher for it, but-" Morven shook his head, dismissively. "Doesn't matter. Once we do this job, we'll-"

Alyx spun in her saddle to glare at Morven. "Loose lips sink ships, Squall."

Morven grew, strangely, silent and Roland looked back and forth between them, confused. The prince finally asked. "What're you doin' after this job?"

Morven coughed. "I'll be settlin' down. I'm done with the adventures. Aneurin is young. Much awaits him in this large world."

"Will you settle them fish lips, damn it?" Alyx spat out, angrily. "You bark at me for answerin' them twenty questions all the bloody time and here you go waggin' off at the fuckin' mouth again."

Morven smirked and gave Roland a wink. "Aye, but you talk as much as a woman."

Silver eyes turned back to glare at him, again, and he shrugged his large shoulders. "Well, you do."

Alyx cursed and dug her heels into her horse's side. Taking off ahead of them towards the mountains, she rode hard to cool her temper. Morven laughed, jovially, as she took off. He was always happy to get her so riled.

Roland watched her leave, worried. "Should we be lettin' 'im ride off like that?"

"Bah, let him go and cool off a bit." Morven replied, waving one hand, frivolously. "Tell me some more 'bout this Goblin Prince of yers. I've never had the pleasure, but word is he's a hoot an' can drink a Cluricaun under the table!"

Alyx rode, hard, until she felt that she had put enough distance between her and the men. When she reached the foothills of the Hollow Tors, she slowed her mount. Damn that Morven. He was going to screw up everything if he didn't keep his big trap shut. She could tell Roland already had his suspicions about her and if Morven let his tongue wag anymore, they would be caught. Alyx dismounted from her horse and let him drink from a small stream. Sitting upon a large stone, she let the gelding have his fill of the fresh mountain water and waited for Roland and Morven to catch up. When they finally reached her about a half an hour later, she mounted her horse, and moved to ride behind them in angry silence.

"-and so I've got snakes and frogs fallin' from me mouth every time I say a word!" Morven exclaimed, mid-tale as they approached. "It was horrible! You try seducin' a gal when ya got a garter snake fallin' from yer tongue to their bosem."

"That's what Jaron said." Roland nodded, glumly. "Told me it was, by far, the worst curse he'd ever had the misfortune to be under."

"An' that's the honest truth there, bucko. Took three witches an' enchantress to lift it." Morven turned in his saddle to give Alyx a cheery smile. "Feel better?"

"No." She replied, curtly

"Then why not lead us into Bergtroll this evenin', heh? That'll improve yer mood."

Bergtroll was an ancient Trollish city that had been built in the Hollow Tor Mountains above their vast honeycomb of silver mines. The buildings were built of the stone and silver the trolls hauled up and the streets adorned with the bones of their enemies. Trolls mined the silver, relentlessly, and sold it in their bustling marketplaces for weaponry purposes, mostly. The mountain trolls of Bergtroll were the fiercest of all trolls in the Underground. They were known to be mainly carnivorous and brutal creatures. Most were between 6'5" and 8 foot tall. They were an ugly sort of creature with dark coarse hair all over their bodies and tusks. Most would just as soon eat raw Fae meat than any other.

The sun was high in the western skies as the travelers were just reaching the old mountain trails that led into Bergtroll. At this same time, Queen Mab arrived in the marketplace with her Chieftain of the Guard, Harkin, and her three ladies-in-waiting, Vesper Morain, Willow Raine, and Morgan le Fey. Mab's Ladies were always with her when she went into public. Vesper Morain was a tall, thin Fae woman with dark hair piled atop her head in curls. She had smoky grey eyes and was known as Mab's personal assistant. Little was known of the origins of the mysterious Fae who had been at Mab's side for the better part of a century for she was quite secretive. Willow Raine followed her Queen through the market as the Queen's newest lady and there was a happy bounce to her step. It had been long since her defection from the Seelie Court, but she'd finally wormed her way into Mab's immediate fold with the successful enslavement of the Goblin Prince. Morgan le Fey had been Mab's sorceress for centuries and King Carsys's before that. She had also been the Court Sorceress for his mother, the Dark Witch of the Forked Swampland and Dowager Queen of Air and Darkness, Zefiryn, for the short and bloody time she was on the throne after the death of her husband, King Ulger the Dire.

Mab was roaming through the market, selecting things at will, ordering them paid for, and sent to Raghnall Castle for her next masquerade. Harkin followed close behind her, leading Jaron by a rusted chain around his chafed neck. Her Chieftain, Harkin, was a tall, broad shouldered Fae with close cropped blonde hair. His face was patch-worked with scars and one eye was forever inked a milky white. He wore stark black armor with a large sword and bullwhip at his side.

Jaron wore no shirt and only a pair of ragged pants in the cold mountain air. His breath was white vapor pouring from his lips and his ragged hair hung into his eyes. Jerking hard on the chain, Harkin caused Jaron to fall to his knees in the muddy slush. Harkin spun around and cuffed him on the back of the head, knocking him flat on the ground.

"Rise, you clumsy oaf!"

Shaking the mud from his face, Jaron got back to his feet and followed Harkin. The Goblin Prince's better eye looked around the marketplace, cautiously, but there was no spark left in his eyes. He seemed dim and nearly senseless as his followed like a simple pet. Mab stopped at a large stand and began to select items for herself such as jewelry, clothes, fabrics, and potions.

"My slave will carry these purchases." She purred to the Trollish shop-keep as she dropped a handful of coins into his large and warted hand.

Jaron's weak arms were piled with her packages and still he did not say a word. Mab gave him a wicked smile and lifted his chin with her finger so their eyes met.

"Give your will to me, Jaron, and life could be so much easier. I would be buying you such niceties and our slaves would carry them for us."

A slow smirk rose to Jaron's lips and some of his old fire emerged. "If you think a little shopping is going to break me, you are sorely mistaken, Mab."

Harkin backhanded Jaron, splitting his lip and spilling the packages from Jaron's arms in the process. "Respect your queen!"

Jaron spat a mouthful of blood to the ground and didn't speak. His eyes had returned to dim pools of color and his gaze grew listless. He moved to collect the packages as Mab gave a snort of disapproval. She turned to Harkin. "Take him to Bone Square and let Gaar have his way with him for until I've finished. Mayhap some time in Gaar's care will dull that sharp tongue."

Harkin nodded and called out an order in Trollish and Jaron was dragged away through the crowd, the grunting laughs of nearby trolls following his exit. Mab smirked and went about on her way through the market.

Morgan stopped her queen with a frown. "Gaar will kill him, Mab."

"Then go and heal him before Gaar can kill him." Mab said, airily, and moved on.

Morgan cursed, heartily, and made her way towards Bone Square through the slush. This ancient part of Bergtroll was where its people held public torturing sessions and executions. The entire Square was built and paved from the bones of fairy folk executed by the Troll King, Narg, over the many centuries he had been in control of the Troll Nation. Jaron had been tied to a rack so he hung with his arms above his head and he was screaming in pain as Gaar practiced his work.

King Narg's chief torturer was Gaar, a tall and quite hideous troll covered in scars and coarse grey hairs. His many grotesque necklaces were made of the bones of his kills. He had sharp tusks that curled up from the sides of his mouth and affected his speech greatly, which, as all knew, was a sign of beauty in the Troll Nation. He was testing the sharpness of one of his curved blades on Jaron's back as Morgan approached. She put her hands on her hips as she stood next to Harkin, a sour look on her face.

"Mab sent me to make sure her slave isn't killed." Morgan stated, icily, for she and Harkin held no love for one another.

Harkin smirked. "We will make him wish he were dead, witch."

Gaar chuckled, hoarsely, as he carved deeper into Jaron's back causing a crimson stream to run down Jaron's back and drip into the dirt. He grunted. "He'll beg for death in my hands."

Jaron's pain-filled screams stopped, abruptly, and his head fell forward, limp. Gaar snarled and grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling his head back up, and releasing it. He turned to Harkin with a shrug and Harkin snapped.

"Wake him up. We want him conscious for his torture, you great lummox."

Gaar snorted and moved around to stand in front of Jaron. From that moment on, things seemed to go into slow motion to Morgan. Jaron's eyes snapped open and he pulled himself up on the rope he was tied with. Wrapping his strong legs around Gaar's thick neck, he began to squeeze, choking the troll. The troll fell to his knees and Jaron held on, hanging the troll with his legs. Sliding free one hand, Jaron drew a sword from the scabbard on the troll's back. With a guttural scream, he gave it a powerful downward thrust and through the top of the troll's neck above his legs. Blood spurted in great arcs, dousing both Jaron and Gaar. The troll groped at the holes in his neck in a vain attempt to pull out the sword. Giving the blade a twist, Jaron wretched it free and cut himself loose with a single swing. Jaron landed, deftly on his feet, and turned to face Harkin and Morgan, swinging the sword in one hand. His eyes were bright and seemed on fire as he grinned his Cheshire Cat grin.

Morven led the group as they rode towards the massive gates of Bergtroll which were carved of dragon bones of mad dragons. Skulls of every type lined the road that led to the city and torches smoked all around this place of doom and despair.

"Follow me lead and don't say a word… Either of you… Especially you, Aneurin." Morven ordered, harshly as they approached.

"I wasn'-" Alyx started.

Morven cut her off. "Belay that."

When they came to a stop at the gate, Morven slapped one palm upon the bone, causing a resonating echo. A short, pig-faced troll peered down from the tower above the gates, holding a spear in one fat hand. "What do you want?"

"Entrance to Bergtroll." Morven yelled.

"Oh, yeah?" The pig chortled. "What for?"

"We be lookin' for some honest work, sir."

The troll raised a patchy eyebrow. "Honest work? In Bergtroll?"

"To a man like meself, any work that pays be honest work." Morven grinned and held out his arms, happily.

The Troll snorted and yelled. "Let them through!"

The gates began to creak open and Morven gave the gatekeeper a friendly nod. As they began to ride into the city, he hissed to the pair following him. "Stay with me."

Both gave a nod of silent agreement as they made their way through the legions of trolls and Unseelie folk that flooded the city. The streets were truly lined with the bones of King Narg's enemies. The very road gleamed with the white of bones under the dingy slush. Alyx clucked at her mount and evened her pace with Morven. She pointed one gloved hand up the street.

"Somethin' is going on in Bone Square, Moven. Somethin' bad." She whispered and he gave her a sharp look. "I think he's there."

"How do you know? You been reading them bones again and not sharing?" Morven hissed.

"No."

"Then how do you know?"

Her silver eyes caught his for a mere moment. "I just do."

Morven nodded, knowing from their years together to trust the girl's judgment, and the trio hurried their horses towards the Square. They arrived just in time to see Jaron stab his sword down into the Troll's neck and free himself. As Jaron turned to watch Harkin approach, Alyx's hands tightened on her reigns, and his name slipped past her lips in a whisper. "Jaron…"

Jaron swung the curved sword in his hands as Harkin glared at him, and drew his own blade.

"You will be punished for this, slave. You've killed the best torturer in the Troll Nation." Harkin spat. "Mab herself will torture you for hours and then Narg shall have his turn. You will hurt."

"Oh, aye… Why don't you just step a bit closer and I'll show you what it is to hurt?" Jaron smirked and hefted the scimitar.

Roland threw a panicked look at Morven. "We gotta do somethin' 'fore he kills 'imself."

Alyx nodded, grimly. "Aye, we do."

With a sharp cry, she kicked her horse into motion and took off towards the battling pair. Upon reaching Jaron, she threw herself from her horse, tackling him to the ground. The sword flew from his fingertips as her small body collided with his, knocking the wind from him. Quickly getting to her feet, she kicked him down again and drew her blade. Jaron's one good eye widened, slightly as she pressed the blade against his throat. Alyx eyes drank in her first sight of her Goblin Prince in years. He was malnourished and beaten, badly. One eye was swelled shut and he had a recently busted lip. Thin, silver scars marred his formally flawless skin and she knew they had used iron whips on him. He shook in anger in the icy puddle, but he remained still under the tip of her blade. He spat a mouthful of blood to his left and she knew it was from where she had kicked him in his jaw.

"Good one." He smirked as he leaned back on his elbows, his ragged dark hair hanging in his face and her mind flew back to when she had first arrived and found him lounged upon her bed in the Labyrinth. She fought to control herself as Harkin drew his fist back and then down upon Jaron's face. Jaron rolled to his hands and knees, coughing. Harkin gave him a swift kick in the ribs.

Alyx spoke to Harkin, but kept her eyes and sword locked on Jaron. "Seems you were havin' a bit o' trouble with yer slave, me Lord."

Harkin nodded. "I am very grateful. Who may Our Queen of Air and Darkness thank?"

"Xabat the Threadbare, sir." Alyx returned her sword to its sheath and gave Harkin a short bow.

"I am Harkin, Chieftain of the Unseelie Guard and War Admiral to Queen Mab." Harkin sneered down and gave Jaron another kick. "Stupid bastard."

Jaron groaned as he clutched his ribs and looked up at Alyx again. For a second, his eyes were sharp and he focused on her for a brief moment and Alyx saw a spark within his eyes. Just as quickly as it happened, his gaze darted away and turned listless as Unseelie guards moved forward to chain him.

Harkin ordered the nearest troll. "Take him to the dungeons in Ahearn. Tell my orcs to start him out on the racks until I arrive.. Make sure they ready my iron whips."

The troll grunted and they disappeared with the Goblin Prince in an instant. Harkin turned back to Alyx as Morven and Roland approached with her horse.

"I owe you many thanks, elf. Our Queen would, surely, like to meet and thank you, personally, for the retrieval of her slave. Perhaps even a reward for you if she feels generous enough." Harkin stated as he studied her approaching friends. "Bring your friends as well."

"'Twas Xabat who stopped the slave, sir. We be only his travelin' mates. 'Tis safer to hunt for work in groups these days, as well you know." Morven stated, cheerfully, upon his arrival.

"Aye, that is most wise these days with the damned Seelie Court breathing down the necks of any Unseelie about. There is always more power in numbers." Harkin agreed. "Our Queen would will you to travel with your friend so he may reach her safely."

"Will be an honor." Morven bowed. "Would it be too much to hope she has a place for us in her service? We are all three accomplished men of arms."

"Mayhap. Meet us in Ahearn at Raghnall Castle. Mab is throwing a masquerade in two days. We can discuss things there with Her Majesty."

Morven gave him a bow. "Of course, me Lord."

Harkin disappeared to follow his victim to Ahearn and Morgan approached the trio, a small smile upon her face. "I see that you showed up just in time to impress Harkin. Now, how will you impress the Queen?"

"I beg yer pardon, lady?" Morven asked and smiled back.

Morgan narrowed her eyes. "You must learn to lie if you are to succeed, Captain."

She turned her back on them and disappeared into the crowds. Roland turned to Alyx, angrily. "How could ya? We could 'ave had him!"

"In a town full of Unseelie? Not bloody likely. We'd be sharin' a cell with him. I did what I had to, to save him." Alyx snapped in return. She was angry at herself for having to give him up. "Don't think that I like turnin' him over any more than you did. Now come on. We need to be getting' to the hideout. I don't like this town after dark."

Morven nodded, glumly. "Yeah, all the whores and tavern wenches are of Trollish descent. Not one looker amongst 'em."

Roland's eyes narrowed at Alyx as she mounted and led them out of Bone Square. Grudgingly, he followed, keeping a close eye on the elf riding in front of him. The trio made their way through the town to an alley where Morven had secured a fairly safe hideout for them. Roland rode up to her as they entered an alleyway. Once they were clear of sight from the market, Roland cut her horse off with his, rather abruptly, causing her mount to whinny in protest. Morven followed them, concerned, as Roland got off his horse, and dragged Alyx down from her saddle. She went at him like a wildcat and he knocked her hat from her head in one broad slap.

Morven let go a string of impressive curses and hurried to dismount, nearly falling on his face in the process. "Oh, bloody, bloody hell."

Alyx struggled against Roland's iron grip, cursing a shade more impressively than Morven. With one swift twist of his arm, Roland grasped her braid and pinned her to the ground with one knee. Wrapping the braid around one fist, he jerked her head down to still her struggles and tears nearly came to her silver eyes. His other hand moved to tear the muffler from her face and she stilled rather suddenly, surprising him .

"Don't." Alyx pleaded, her voice raw and hoarse. Roland stared at her, fire in his dark eyes and she continued her pleas. "We have too much to lose, Roland."

"Bucko's right, lad." Morven warned and Roland saw that the pirates hand was held, loosely, over his sword. "Let 'im up an' we'll all go inside where there be less eyes."

Roland could hear the threatening undertone in the pirate's voice and he gave a gruff grunt before hauling Alyx to her feet. He kept a hold of her braid and dragged her cursing form towards the door to the hideaway. Lifting one booted foot, he kicked open the door, swirling dust about the room. Grasping her braid tighter, he lead her into the room with him. Morven cursed under his breath and looked about to see if they had been noticed. Thankful, they had not so he followed and closed the door behind them, quickly. Alyx struggled to get free from Roland's grasp.

"Let me go, you damned fool!" Alyx hissed, clawing at his hand wrapped in her braid.

"Not 'til you tell me why yer doin' this." Roland spat back and sat her down upon a bench hard. He tugged on the braid and glared at her. "Well?"

"I'm repayin' an old debt."

"Bullshit!" Roland shook her, hard. "Why are ya doin' this?"

"I told you-"

Roland's free hand grasped her muffler, ripping it from her face. She had no time to cast her glamour. They both froze and stared at one another, jaws agape. He eased his grip on her braid and cupped her one pale cheek. "Alyx… How?"

"Ahem… I'm suggestin' ya let the little lass go 'fore she tells you any tales, Prince." Morven cut in and Roland turned to see the business end of a blade in his face. "Real quick like."

Roland released her and in an instant Alyx had scrambled away, replacing her muffler. He stared after her in shock.

"How, Alyx? How?"

"The glass slippers." Alyx admitted. "They certainly are handy."

"You've been hidin' in plain sight all this damn time. Bloody hell, I thought you were dead an-" Roland paused as he looked her up and down, amazed to see her in the flesh. "Then that's why you're doin' all this. For him. For Jaron."

Morven, satisfied their quarrel was over, sheathed his sword. "Aye. She could not pass the chance to help save him."

Alyx gave Morven a glare. "I owe Jaron. He saved my life more times than I can count and it's my fault that he got banished in the first place."

"Oh, a debt, you say? Nothin' more, nothin' less, huh?" Roland asked a little heatedly as Alyx turned away to start a fire in the small hearth. "You know, we 'ave worried 'bout you, lass. No matter what ya believe!"

"Yeah, enough to put a damned price on my head." Alyx snorted.

"I dinna call Jareth on you in Junction City, ya know." Roland replied, defensively. "I dinna know he was lurkin' about."

Alyx gave him a cautious look. "I never should have stopped there, anyway. It was a foolish thing to do."

"My question is this; does this change our plan?" Morven asked the pair, seriously.

"No. We stick to the plan." Alyx stated.

Roland stared at her in shock. "Mab'll spot you! She's searched high and low for you an' put an even higher price on yer pretty little head than we did! She wants ya dead."

"She won't know me. Not with the slippers and my glamour. There's no way she could suspect me after the stunt I pulled today." Alyx concentrated and the illusion of her scars and tribal tattoos returned. "She will only know a mad Genki elf when she sees me."

"Will this work?" Roland asked, seriously.

"It has to… It has to."

Sarah stared out over the celebrating Goblin City from the balcony of her former room in the Castle Beyond. She had returned to the Labyrinth with Jareth after finalizing their plans with Morgan Le Fey. The goblins were busy celebrating the return of their Queen and had nary the clue that she would be leaving again and soon. A small smile drifted over her lips as she heard the music drifting from the city and she watched the tiny creatures dancing around massive bonfires. Ashe purred, affectionately, at her side and the gryphon nuzzled her hand. She gave him a few loving strokes and smiled out over the city.

"Boy, I missed it here, Ashe. Didn't you?"

Ashe clucked his agreement and gave a happy squawk.

"I hate to say it, but I even missed those little clods stealing my slippers and hairbrushes…" She sighed, happily.

No where had ever felt so much like home to Sarah than the Goblin City and it felt good to be home, even if it was only for a short while. It even felt good to know that Jareth was in the same castle with her, but she didn't voice that out loud just yet for fear of jinxing it. Her eyes drifted from the party in the Goblin City to her view of the Eastern Tower. There was light in the highest window, so she knew Jareth was there in his private quarters. Her nose wrinkled and suddenly, she wanted to be near him. She wanted… No, she needed to see him.

"C'mon, Ashe… Let's go pay a visit to the King."

Though it was not his idea of a good time, Ashe mewled an agreement and followed his master from her quarters. The castle was relatively deserted thanks to the festivities, so Sarah didn't have to worry about being averted from her mission. She crept towards the Eastern Tower with Ashe close at her side. She had never used the staircase entrance to Jareth's private quarters and felt a little nervous about doing so. She could have called for him, but she didn't want to do that. So, she decided to journey on foot to the entrance to his quarters as that she was unable to transport herself into his quarters. This was part of the magic surrounding the East and West towers.

The Eastern and Western towers of the castle had been gifts between Jareth and Jaron. Both had designed the each tower with the other in mind. Years ago, she had ascended the forest themed staircase to Jaron's private chambers in search of magic to bring him home, but Jareth's tower was rather different. Word in the castle was that the brothers kept the rooms as storage for their many magical oddities and as a place to go where no one dared to bother them. Nearly every person in the kingdom was forbidden from entering the towers. She approached the stairwell and her eyes widened at it's cave-like entrance. The doorway to Jareth's staircase was framed with two stalactites carved into seven foot tall Red-Cap Goblins wielding very real axes in their stone hands. She peered up the dark and winding staircase. She took a step into the entryway and was jerked backwards by Ashe's firm beak-grip on her dress. As she landed rather, roughly on her bottom, the two axe blades sliced down in the doorway where she had stood only moments before. The two axes now blocked her entrance to the staircase.

"Hey!" Sarah yelped and scrambled to her feet to glare at the statues. "That nearly took my head off!"

The sound of maniacal giggling startled her and she stared at where the two axes met. Long thin fingers grasped the handles as eerie yellow eyes peeked at her from the darkness. Ashe gave the newcomer a warning hiss. Refusing to let the creature scare her, Sarah squared her shoulders and gave it her fiercest glare. The creature giggled again and poked his head out to give her a sharp toothed smile. Sarah nearly gasped at the hideous creature guarding the staircase. Its dark green mottled skin seemed stretched rather thinly over it's skeleton and as it grinned at her, it scratched the wart at the tip of it's long nose with one sharp nail. Then she noticed the silver chain around the creature's neck, chaining him to the wall.

"Watch the first step! It's a doozy!" It cackled.

"Let me through."

"Ah, ah, ah…" The creature tsked, and shook one long finger in her direction. "No one is allowed in the King's personal chambers."

"Who are you?" Sarah asked, with a frown. She kept her distance from the frightening creature.

He giggled, madly. "Who are you?"

"I'm Sarah."

"Sarah?" He hissed and backed away from the axes, slightly. "Sarah…"

"Yes, I'm Sarah…" She stepped forward and her name seemed to echo up the long, dark staircase. The creature hissed again and Sarah could hear his chains rattle as he disappeared into the shadows.

"Hey, wait-"

A light grew in a small hole in the wall and two small goblins appeared, wielding pick-axes and torches. They shooed the nightmarish creature into a small hole in the wall and rolled a stone cover to lock the creature in. Small lights began to illuminate the cavern staircase and upon closer inspection, Sarah found they came from many little tunnels built within the walls. Slowly, the Red-Caps raised their axes to give her free passage. Sarah stepped forward, again, Ashe at her heels. As she entered the staircase, she looked into one of the small tunnels and found they each had a small gnome-like creature holding a lantern made out of a turnip to light the way. The one she peered in upon gave her a bright smile and knocked his fist upon one wall. The knocking sound echoed up the staircase walls as his brethren repeated the call and more lights began to appear from the tunnels. The walls sparkled with the rough edges of uncut gems and streaks of gold and silver ore. Stalagmites grew from the floor into a very rough version of a banister, which Sarah lay one hand up as she ascended. Within the walls, she could hear the goblins and gnomes as they bustled about in their tunnels, following her progress up the steps. Though it took time, Sarah and Ashe found themselves at a large stone door embedded with dark, uncut gems.

As she raised one hand for the gold knocker in the middle of the door the door swung open on it's own to reveal Jareth's private quarters. As always when she stayed within his quarters, the room never ceased to amaze her. It reminded her of pictures of the Mesa Verde villages she had studied in school. From floor to ceiling, the carved stone walls hosted shelves for books, scrolls, maps, magical trinkets, and other oddities. Odd lanterns, that often reminded Sarah of Jack O' Lanterns, were hung here and there to, softly, illuminate the room. His large circular bed was in the middle of the room in a sunken pit in the ground. A dark canopy draped from the ceiling and over the pit, which was filled with mounds of pillows and blankets. Two large fire-pits, cast of solid gold, warmed the room. Midway up one wall on a rolling ladder, was Jareth with his nose buried in an ancient tome. After he finished the passage he read, he looked up over the edge of his reading glasses at her. Marking his place by folding the corner of the page back, he returned the tome back to it's place on the shelf.

"You knew I was coming?" Sarah asked, stepping forward into the room.

"The gnomes and knockers of the staircase told me… I suppose the orc at the bottom gave you a bit of a fright?" Jareth descended the ladder, gracefully, and magicked away his glasses.

She nodded. "He was a bit creepy."

"I call him Gristle." Jareth smiled. "He is as 'creepy' my brother intended him to be when he designed this tower. Only Jaron could find a good use for a mad orc… Lucky for Gristle the Orc he is still rather smart and remembers to treat his Queen with her due respect. What can I do for you tonight, Sarah?"

"Forgive me." She blurted out and her cheeks grew a little red as she shrugged. "I'm sorry that I burned down your hedge maze, Jareth."

The side of his face ticked and she could tell that he was struggling not to laugh. "Your apology is accepted, Sarah."

She added. "I'm sorry I left."

"I am sorry that I made you want to leave." Jareth replied, honestly.

Sarah launched herself into his arms and buried her face in his chest. His arms wrapped around her and he leaned in to breathe in her scent. One of his hands moved to tangle in her hair and draw her body closer to his.

"I missed you… You never made me want to leave, but… I had to." Sarah gripped the lapel of his jacket until her knuckles turned white and listened to his thudding heart. "I needed to learn to be Queen and you needed to learn to let me be me."

"I always knew that's why you went to Wyntr's keep… Then are you home to stay, precious?" Jareth asked and she tilted her head back to look him in the eyes. "After we go through with this little plan of yours, of course."

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm coming home for good."

Within an instant, Jareth's lips were pressed against hers and her hands tangled in his hair. She moaned against his mouth and in an instant she was in his arms. The pair paused when they heard a low growl. Jareth cast his mismatched eyes on Ashe and bared his teeth. In an instant, the gryphon disappeared and Sarah gave Jareth a scowl.

"Never worry, precious… Your pet is safe." Jareth breathed across her cheek and the next thing she knew, he was resting her down in the pit of silks and furs that was his bed. "I want you all to myself right now."

The next few hours passed in a wondrous blur for the pair as they reacquainted themselves with one another's bodies. Tender caresses were cast in low candlelight and feather soft kisses landed on pale columns of skin. Soft whispers of love were repeated in the dark and then soft sighs took their place. After, the pair felt more content than they had in years. Sarah rest her head upon Jareth's chest and stared up from the pillow pit to the enchanted ceiling which showed the starry sky above.

"We are heading for Ahearn on the 'morrow… Are you ready?" Jareth asked her, softly, trailing fingers down her arm.

"As I'll ever be."

"I'll only be a wish away, precious… Remember that."

"I like that…" She sighed, happily as her eyes sought out the strange constellations of this world that Wyntr had shown her. She pointed one hand lazily towards the sky.

"Look Jareth… It's Jaffe and Anethema… The Lovers…"

Jareth's hand snaked up her arm and in an instant his lips were against hers again.

Hours later, the rescue team rested in their safe house in Bergtroll. Alyx was asleep on one of the three pallets by the fire, her hat covering her face. Morven took the cigarette makings from Alyx's bag and peered over at Alyx's sleeping form as she shifted in her sleep. Roland watched her from his position at the table.

"We thought she was really dead, Morven." Roland whispered. "We thought-"

"The kid's been through a lot, that's no lie, but nothin' could kill her. She's been too damn stubborn to die." Morven stated as he returned to the table. "You lot should be right proud of her."

"I am! I am! She swore she'd come back someday." Roland turned his eyes from the sleeping girl to Morven. "How did ya meet?"

Morven laughed. "Now that's a tale! She stowed away on me ship when we set sail from Nevan seven years ago. Leapt from the dock as we were leavin' and stowed away. Me steward found her sleepin' in a rowboat, but that was damned near half way to Hawker's Mooring as fast as we were sailin'. I didn't have the heart to throw her to the sea serpents. She was sad and strange. Definitely new to these parts… So, I put her to work. Kept her on for a few years as me cabin boy. Then after our last wretched trip to Bergtroll-"

"The lass has really been 'ere before?" Roland asked, shocked. "'Ere?"

"I tell no tales… She saved my life here. We were sellin' some dragon's blood an' Kelpie eggs. I managed to get into a bit o' trouble and I ended up in Narg's prison." Morven proceeded to roll a cigarette as he spoke. "She fought off the guards to rescue me. Blasted girl weren't even fully Fae at the time and she damn near got herself killed when she took the werewolves. She's the best First Mate any Cap'n could wish for."

Roland smirked. "I never know if I should be believin' your stories or not. They sound like somethin' outta them fairy stories me mum told me when I was a lad."

Morven gave him a wide grin and laid one hand over his heart. "I swear on me own life, mate. We've had enough adventures in the last seven years to keep the Aboveground reeling in fairytales for centuries to come. That's why we'll be settlin' down after this last job."

"You and Alyx? Then are you-" Roland started to ask.

"Lovers? Belay them thoughts, bucko. I take care of her is all. She's me best mate and me sister. I want to give the kid a place where she don't gotta worry about pretendin' to be someone else. No more of them false names and disguises. I want a safe place for her." Morven gave a great sigh. "I've grown a bit weary of watchin' the kid heal from werewolves claws, bloody curses, or tavern brawls… She needs her own happily ever after."

"How do ya plan on keepin' her so safe?" Roland asked, curiously. "If she'd just come back-"

"She won't and ya know it." Morven licked the cigarette shut and held up one hand to silence Roland. "That's where the gold yer givin' us for savin' the Goblin Prince comes in. I'd have found an easier way to earn the gold, but she couldn't leave him in Mab's clutches. That's all she's been after all these years is some way to save 'im."

"Then why canna she not just come home?" Roland asked, exasperated.

"Because home is where the heart is, me bucko… An' that girl don't know where her heart is."

Roland contemplated that for a moment and gave a short nod. "I suppose I understand ya a bit… Dinna ya think it wee bit odd when you found a mortal runnin' and hidin' in the Underground? You had to have known-"

"Oh, aye. We all figured who she was." Morven lit the cigarette from the pack of matches that Roland provided and inhaled deeply, holding the dense smoke in his lungs. "But we were also privy to the fact that the Unseelie was on her heels as well. Believe you me, the Dark Queen has her fair share of ears on the seas. We kept our mouths shut and let her tell us what she wanted, when she wanted. She trusted almost no one then and fewer now."

"She trusts you." Roland pointed out and accepted the offered cigarette.

"That took a bit o' time, mate… Even in a place where time means naught to the immortal. Krollin and me lookout Quili took her under their wings and trained her to live in this land of make-believe." Morven gave him a grin from across the smoky air. "I taught her what to do when wishes don't come true."

"Has she searched out me cousin before now?"

Morven shrugged. "There've been times when I lost track of her for as long as few years at a time. She traveled with a band of gypsies after her christening took hold and-."

"Gypsies?" Roland asked with a laugh.

"She's led an adventurous seven years, matey. But somewhere in the midst of all them adventures she gave up on fairy tales, happily ever after, and true love…"

Roland glanced at Alyx's sleeping figure again. "Me cousin… He loves her."

"He should. She's a special girl, that one."

As both men turned their conversation to their travels the next morning, they did not know that all was heard by the teary eyed girl on the floor.