A/N: Another short chapter, but at least it's a chapter. I'm working so much right now I can't squeeze much more than this out at a time. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to all the reviewers. You know how much you mean to me, and you keep me inspired. A special shout out to Lady Saffron of the Daggers, who gave me the ballroom dancing idea and permission to use it. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the movie or the characters, except the ones of my own creation. You know who you are.

Jareth sat still, listening intently as Sarah told her story. To say he was dismayed by parts of it would be an understatement of epic proportions. Still, he bit his tongue when the urge to interrupt came over him, and allowed her to speak. It wasn't so much that he was merely surprised by situation as it unfolded. After all, his life had been one surprise after another since Sarah had fallen into it. What bothered him most was the neatness of it, the way it all seemed to fit, as though every bit of it was meant to be. Jareth liked to think of himself as being in charge of his own destiny. What Sarah was telling him now gave the lie to that concept, and he didn't like it one bit.

He chewed thoughtfully on his cheek, hiding his feelings as best he could, as Sarah finished. When she was done she took a deep breath and waited. He knew she was waiting for his response, but there seemed to be no words appropriate to what he was feeling. Why could nothing just be simple? He supposed he should be grateful, as apparently it was only Sarah's status as some reincarnated mythical queen that had given the Labyrinth – no, Jareth mentally corrected himself, he has a name now – Taliesin, the ability to save her. He sighed, and pulled Sarah into his embrace.

Sarah, becoming increasingly impatient, finally asked the question she thought implicit. "So what are you thinking?"

Jareth tightened his embrace and laid his cheek to the top of her head. "I'm thinking that if it's a girl, we should call her Isabelle." He said, and scowled in surprise at his own answer.

Sarah pulled away and looked up at him, her face worried. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine." Jareth said, and smiled reassuringly for good measure.

Sarah, not surprisingly, remained skeptical. "Jareth, I've just explained the origin of your Kingdom! Not to mention that one of the enemies of my people, your people, Jareth, is wandering the halls of your castle as we speak. How can you be thinking of baby names at a time like this?"

Jareth looked into her eyes, her frustration causing silver to swirl among the green, and felt an utterly ridiculous sense of tranquility wash over him. "If you don't like Isabelle we can think of something else, but I think it's only fair I get to name this one."

Sarah growled, and Jareth was rewarded with a bright flash as her eyes went completely sliver. To Sarah's dismay, he laughed delightedly. "Jareth, for heaven's sake! There are more important things to worry about right now!" The energy around her was sparking as her frustration grew, and Jareth took pity on her.

Smoothing her hair from her face he spoke gently. "We've a very clever son, you and I." he began cryptically, and Sarah opened her mouth to argue again, but Jareth put a finger over her lips. "Perhaps you were too preoccupied to notice the guards at breakfast, but they were there, flanking our guest. Ryan has graciously provided an escort for him, ensuring that he will make no movements here that are unobserved. If he is a spy, we will learn as much about him as he will about us, and perhaps that's a good thing. I also find it heartening that although his people were enemies to your race, he himself has never heard of the Tuatha de Danann. If he was sent here to spy, he was sent blindly. I don't think he's as much of a threat as you fear, and if he is, we'll know it before he can cause any harm."

Sarah seemed to consider this before nodding. "You're right, he didn't know. I could feel the truth in him. Still, what about everything else? What about the uneasy feelings I've been having, and the warning that history may repeat itself?"

"We'll deal with those things when they come. Until then, there is no sense worrying over them." He stood, pulling Sarah to her feet behind him. She was looking at him expectantly, a trace of worry still in her eyes, so he bent and kissed her. It was gentle and passionate and when he pulled away her eyes had faded back to green and her expression was peaceful. He brushed his fingertips lightly over her belly. "Right now, my beautiful Sarah, there is nothing more important than you, and I, and this."

She seemed at peace with his words, and that was as it should be. It was his job to protect her, both from harm and from her own fear, and he would do so no matter what the cost. Above all else, he wouldn't let her know that he was more terrified than he had ever been in his life.

Ryan stared at the doorway long after his parents' abrupt disappearance, which had come far too soon after their even more abrupt appearance. His forkful of eggs hovered in the air expectantly as he tried to make sense of what had just occurred. It wasn't so much that he was surprised by his mother's outburst; he had reached the point where nothing his parents did surprised him anymore. He only questioned her timing. Why make such an important confession to a stranger, and one she obviously disliked?

This brought his thoughts to Goewin, and he turned his eyes toward his guest. Fork forgotten and discarded, he watched the stranger carefully for any signs of duplicity. If anything, the dark haired man seemed more confused than Ryan. He shuffled his food around his plate thoughtfully, and Ryan could see that he was nervously working at his bottom lip with his teeth. Somehow this made the Goblin King breath a little easier. While it was true that Ryan had very little experience with political intrigue, in his opinion people with such benign nervous ticks couldn't represent too much of a threat. Still, he wasn't about to let his guard down around the stranger, literally or figuratively.

He picked up his fork again and shoveled in the eggs, wincing a little as he realized they had gone cold. Putting on his game face, he forced himself to continue as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The rest of the occupants of the table caught on immediately and the table chatter began again, everyone speaking at once except for Goewin, who was still staring at his plate.

All eyes turned toward the dark man as he cleared his throat, a cord of apprehension running through them. What would they say if he asked about Sarah? He knew as much as any of them. "Quite the pair, aren't they?" He said finally, and though the collective sigh of relief was not audible, it was certainly palpable.

"That's the understatement of the year." Toby answered automatically, then yelped as the Elvin Queen kicked him under the table. He glared at her. "What?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Goewin ignored the display and continued. "Are they always so….so…."

"Strange?" Valerent supplied helpfully, and shivered a little as the twins glared menacingly in his direction.

"I was going to say passionate." Goewin finished.

Toby nodded his curly head enthusiastically as he dipped his biscuit in gravy. "Oh ye." He said, pausing momentarily to chew. "They're always running out of rooms like that. We find its best not to think about it." These words were punctuated by an audible thump and another yelp. Toby glared at his lover. "Why do you keep doing that?" he asked, and Saren rolled her eyes.

The twins glanced at each other and smiled. Whether he had done so intentionally or not, their uncle's words had successfully diffused what could have been at the very least a troublesome situation.

"Have you thought more about what you would like to do for your birthday?" Saren asked, deciding Toby was a lost cause.

Jasmine shrugged. "It's just seventeen." She answered. "Not really a big deal."

"You're only seventeen?" Goewin asked, and his interest seemed disconcertingly real.

"Well…yes." Jasmine answered, not sure why she was flustered, but flustered just the same. "How old did you think we were?"

"I'm sorry." Goewin said, casting his eyes downward. "I didn't mean to offend. You just seem much older." He looked back up at Jasmine and smiled, and to her everlasting dismay she blushed.

Ryan's eyes narrowed in displeasure. "Yes, well, we were raised Above. It tends to make you older than your years." He said tightly.

"Perhaps." Goewin said, not missing the warning tone in the young king's voice, but for the moment choosing to ignore it. "Still, it's your birthday, you should have a ball."

"Well, I'm sure we will find something fun to do." Jasmine said, wondering how she had allowed herself to be drawn into this conversation.

"I think he means a Ball, Jasmine." Saren clarified. "A dance. And it's not a bad idea."

Jasmine shook her head heatedly at this. "Oh, no. No dance, thank you all the same."

Ryan grinned wickedly. "Oh come on Jas." He said. "It would be fun."

Jasmine gritted her teeth in Ryan's direction. "For you maybe." She spat, and Ryan laughed.

Goewin couldn't help but smile at the exchange. "You don't like to dance?" he asked the Princess, and flinched as she turned her glare in his direction.

"She can't dance." Ryan answered for her. "You see, my sister has two left feet."

Goewin's brow furrowed at this remark, and though he admirably resisted the urge to look under the table, his confusion was plain.

Toby chuckled. "Relax, it's just an expression." He told him. "She doesn't really have two left feet."

"I don't think it's funny." Jasmine said, and moved to leave the table. To her shock, Goewin grabbed her wrist.

"Wait." He told her, suppressing the tingle that spread across his shoulders as her mismatched gaze met his. "I could teach you to dance."

"No thank you." She said through clenched teeth, but she lowered herself to her seat once more. "I don't dance."

"But you are the daughter of the High King. Sooner or later you will have to dance, and with much more important people than me. Shouldn't you learn now?" Jasmine cursed under her breath as she was forced to see the logic. Obviously her father had overlooked one important skill when he assembled his horde of tutors.

"I suppose." She conceded, and resisted the urge to knock the grin of satisfaction off the smug bastard's face.

"Then its settled." He said, oblivious to the mortal danger he was in. "We'll begin the lessons tomorrow."

"Now wait a minute.." Ryan began, but was cut off by a searing pain that was suddenly piercing his skull. He winced, and brought a clenched fist to his forehead.

Jasmine was on her feet instantly. "Ryan, are you alright?" she asked, but her words were hollow and his ears were filled with the sound of rushing blood. He wasn't alright, and the timing was terrible. He had felt this only once before, and his father had promised him that it would get easier with time, as his body adjusted to the sudden pull of the magic. This might be easier than last, but only because last time he had thought he was going to die, and this time he only wanted to. He forced himself not to moan, but he had to cover his face with his arms to hide the tears that were being forced from his eyes.

"Is it the curse?" Saren asked, and all he could do was nod tightly. The pain was beginning to recede a little, but only just.

"The curse?" Goewin asked, his heart racing. He was sure this was information worth knowing.

"The Goblin King's curse." She told him as she stood and dipped a linen napkin into a pitcher of ice water. Placing it at the base of Ryan's neck she continued. "When a human above…" she began, but Ryan reached up and grabbed her hand, silencing her instantly. His eyes were red with pain but his meaning was clear, and she cursed herself for having to be reminded by her pupil that it was best not to tell the stranger everything.

"When a human what?" Goewin asked, but Jasmine shook her head.

"It doesn't matter." She told him. "We have to prepare for the challenge." She looked around. "Murk!" She called, and almost instantly the Captain appeared. "Has a detachment been sent to fetch the child?"

"Yes ma'am." Murk answered. "And the guard around the gate has been doubled."

"What child?" Goewin asked, frustrated at the lack of information.

At the head of the table, Ryan stood, the pain having finally receded to a manageable level. His face was solemn and not a little sad. A careless wave of his hand changed his attire to the formal black a burgundy his father had insisted were traditional for these encounters. With a resigned tilt of his head his only farewell, he stepped to the nearest window and transmuted effortlessly to owl form.

"How did he do that?" Goewin asked. "What's going on?" From outside the room he could hear the sound of a baby crying, and he began walking toward the door. His goblin guards stepped in his way and Jasmine put her hand on his arm not unsympathetically.

"I'm sorry, Goewin, but until the challenge is over or forfeited I'll have to ask you to stay in your room. For your own protection, of course." She added, but clearly as an afterthought. She didn't dance, and diplomacy was not really her thing either. Nodding towards the guards they began to lead their "guest" down the hall and towards the stairs, and Jasmine made her way to the throne room to see to the new arrival, hoping for the sake of timing that the challenger would forfeit, and hoping equally for the sake of the child that they would not. Not a pretty business, this curse.