Authors' Note: Thank you all for sticking with us through our absence during NaNoWriMo, and the holiday season. Working in retail shipping and mailing & shipping, we spent all of December basically coming home from work, eating dinner, and falling in bed. So this chapter is very much delayed, but from now on we should be back to posting weekly. Thank you!


Eventually they made their way up to the castle. It was crowded with extra servants hired to handle the large number of guests expected for Sarah's coronation, and so close to the date itself, everyone was in a frenzy of organizing, cleaning, decorating, and cooking. Sarah grabbed Toby's hand to keep hold of him as she threaded her way through them all. He was already agog at the exotic sights: goblins scampering underfoot; winged fairies bearing napkins and cutlery to the dining hall; and the half-stag chef, Beldych, whom Sarah no longer noticed as unusual, standing nine feet tall from hooves to antler-tips, bellowing orders to his kitchen staff.

As they crossed another corridor, Toby came to an abrupt halt, yanking his hand from hers, and Sarah spun around, frowning slightly at being pulled out of anxious thought. He stood slack-jawed, staring down the intersecting path with a stunned expression. What had he spotted now and was it too much for him to handle, after all the shocks of the day? "Tobe, come on," she said with trepidation, returning to his side to roundly take his hand. It would have been better to have brought him here when there wasn't added chaos, but there had been too much dallying and apprehensiveness on her part. If she had just…

"Who is she?" he whispered in reverent tones. "She's gorgeous."

Now Sarah looked, following the gaze, and saw a throng of servants hurrying back and forth. There were several maids, none of whom she would have thought would be to Toby's interest, but Beldych's wife Marlene was there directing the maids. She was certainly enough to turn a young man's head, with wavy russet hair and dark mysterious eyes and a lovely figure. Oh Lord, that's all she needed at a time like this. Teenage hormones were not high on her 'to deal with' list this week. "Grow up and get over yourself, she's married with kids, and not interested in playing Mrs. Robinson," Sarah said impatiently, and pulled Toby after her.

He pulled back, and said in tones of immense indignation, "It's not like that! It's love at first sight."

Turning to glare at him, she snorted derisively. "You're fifteen and you saw her for like ten seconds in a crowded hallway. That's not love, it's infatuation. Knock it off before you embarrass yourself."

Toby sulked and grumbled, but followed her. Sarah noticed him glancing over his shoulder and rolled her eyes heavenward. She'd have to make a mental note to keep him away from Marlene. It would just figure; she was to be crowned queen of an incredibly amazing fae land and her brother, after a chance sight, thought he was developing a silly crush – and for all Beldych's kindness, she didn't want Toby to find out how sharp those antlers were.

After a few quick turns, they were walking down much less populated back hallways and it felt safe to let go of his hand. At least she could let go of that foolishness for the moment, back to the business at hand. This morning, she needed to do the final fitting on her gown, and Jareth had been entirely too secretive about the finishing touches on it. It had been his request, as she had been dealing with other details with Della, and she had hesitantly agreed to. He would know best what was expected. If it was too ostentatious, she had at least reserved veto power. "C'mon, Tobe," Sarah cajoled. "I need your official artistic opinion on something."

"On what?" he asked, his attention successfully diverted.

"The coronation dress," she admitted, her unease filtering into her tone. "I haven't seen the final version yet, and I want to make sure it's not too much. There were times that I couldn't supervise and … I mean, it has to be over the top, this is amongst the fae, but not too far over the top."

"Yeah, you have to match His Majesty, the King of Tights and Sequins, but you don't want to go too crazy with it," Toby said in mock-solemnity, and Sarah dissolved into laughter at his too-apt description of Jareth.

"The kitchens are prepared for the coronation feast," Della said, as if Umardelin's didn't currently resemble some particularly punishing afterlife, with all the ovens roaring and spits turning on every hearth. She was running down a mental list of preparations, with Thiel at one side and Jareth's chief steward on the other. Behind them came Marlene, the wise man, and a handful of other senior staff. The coronation was only a day away, and given her greater experience in planning such matters, Della had smoothly taken over preparations. She continued, musingly, "The stables stand ready for our guests' mounts, Sarah's gown is nearly finished, Jareth's new mantle is finished, the regalia is polished and made ready, the throne room is clean and decorated, and we finally have all the responses from those invited."

"Who's representing the High King?" Thiel asked, a trifle worried.

"The Duke of Summer," Della replied. That got a mutter from a few of the staff, so she elaborated for their benefit, "I would not expect His Majesty, of course, or his lady wife. I did rather think he would send one of his lesser barons. The Duke of Summer is high enough to please me that he is not slighting Umardelin, and not so high as to worry me over what he intends. Better still, I happen to know his taste in wine, so we can be certain to give a good impression."

"All for the best," the wise man murmured. The group of them moved onward, checking each of the public rooms and finding them in readiness.

Until the last. Della swept into the ballroom, and tsked. "This won't be room enough for everyone," she said, and reached for the power to expand its dimensions, gesturing in the air to call it forth.

And then snatched her hand back with a hiss of pain, her fingers singed by power far older than her own. Umardelin's own power, Della realized, feeling the kingdom called the Unmastered growl around her. Even without words, its meaning was clear, and very firm: you are not my queen.

She had felt very welcome in Umardelin; some kingdoms she'd visited had resented her use of magic, even when she only drew from her personal reserves. Etaron had been like that at first, every spell she wove having to be pushed as if through treacle. At least, until her wedding night, when both Thiel and Etaron claimed her as queen. The land and its magic were hers from then on, eager to hand and a delight to behold.

Umardelin never had resisted her, 'til now. She had thought it so ripe with wild magic that it hadn't noticed her, but her scorched hand told a different tale. And even as she shook her fingers to dispel the phantom heat, Thiel spoke her name softly.

Della turned. The servants who'd followed them were staring at her. And the ballroom itself was suddenly full of goblins, eerily silent, their eyes fixed intently on her. The grand ballroom suddenly vibrated with menace.

This is what Jareth faced, she thought, and was grateful for her son's courage in brazening it out. The High King's fiat had given Jareth a toehold, but more than any other realm, Umardelin had to be won, not simply conquered.

Her own path lay elsewhere. "Forgive my trespass," she said smoothly, giving a curtsy.

The gesture to her audience was only that, a mere gesture. Umardelin had made the challenge, and Cadelinyth of Etaron closed her eyes to focus her will on meeting it.

The first image in her mind's eye was a snarling, slavering goblin, huddled over a filthy bundle of rags. Della shook her head, a slight smile curving her lips. She softened the goblin's features, made it more clearly feminine, and the bundle it guarded became a sleeping goblin babe. That was closer to the truth of Umardelin. It cherished its strength, guarding its power as she herself stood protective over her own child.

A sigh rose from the gathered horde, and Thiel murmured, "What are you doing, love?"

"Correcting a misunderstanding," she replied. Della thought of Jareth, her own treasured babe, and now beloved by his kingdom as well. Then she drew Sarah into her mind, letting Umardelin feel her love and admiration for her son's fierce and tender partner. I would not usurp her place, she thought. Only aid her in making all ready for her formal coronation.

There was a pause, and the quality of the air changed somehow, followed by appreciative murmurs from the servants. Della opened her eyes to see the ballroom had grown vast, its ceiling lost in shimmering mist above, its floors and furnishings more opulently iridescent than ever - though now the gleam of gold shone throughout as well.

"Nice work," the steward said, and Della was wise enough to shake her head immediately.

"That was none of my doing," she replied. "I may have given Umardelin the idea, but the land itself prepares to crown the queen of its own choosing. Your realm is magnificent, my friends."

That last was directed as much to the goblins as to the servants, and the throng of them grinned in unison before dispersing. The servants went as well, to their own many tasks, and she was left alone with Thiel. Only then did Della sigh deeply, and lean against his shoulder. "That was rather too close for comfort," she murmured.

"I have to admit, I was wrong about Umardelin," he replied. "I would never want it for my own, but I have grown to respect it. And I see why our son loves it so."

Della only smiled. "To his great fortune, it loves him, too. Come, let us take a little refreshment before the next wave of chaos breaks."

Neither of the Williams siblings knew just what to expect when they had entered Sarah's sitting room, but the sight had struck them both quite altogether speechless. Toby stood next to Sarah, surrounded by tailors and seamstresses that were making adjustments, both of them staring at the dress. "Wow," he finally said.

His sister was staring at it as if mesmerized, seemingly lost in thought. There was a dreamy expression on her face that he remembered well from when she had told him all those tales of her adventures in this land when he was just a little kid. "Yeah," Sarah murmured, most of her attention absent.

"So, it's too far over the top," Toby said. "But is it too too far over the top?"

That question brought awareness back into her gaze, Sarah startling a little. "Well, we have to take into account that it has yet to grow wings and flap away," his sister said with a deep breath and a sigh. Though for all of her attempt at disapproval, there was a little smile that stayed curled in the corner of her mouth. "It's a coronation gown for a fae queen. I guess I can admire his restraint in not actually having wings like the ones in Ever After attached." She shook her head in obvious wonderment. "But there's no denying that, whatever else it is, it's absolutely gorgeous."

It was beautiful, he could agree with that. There were dozens – no, probably hundreds of yards of gauzy fabric, gathered into a profusion of delicate ruffles, all of which made up a skirt that was wide enough at the base, Sarah was glancing speculatively at doorways. Worked in among the ruffles were skeins of beaded ribbon, and the bodice of the gown was weighted by complicated embroidery and a fortune in jewels. The whole thing was royal purple, darker on the bodice and lightening in the transparent ruffles of the skirt. Here and there were touches of gold, rimming the edges of the ruffles or limning the jewels. The overall effect was ethereal opulence, which suited Toby's notion of a fairy queen.

But did it suit his sister? "You gonna try it on?" he asked.

"Your Majesty, it would be best if you did," one of the seamstresses said.

"Not quite majesty yet," Sarah said gently. "Feel free to order me around – this is your expertise, and the crown isn't on my head yet."

The head dressmaker scoffed, "Tell that to our kingdom. The crown doesn't make the queen, Umardelin does. But if you order me to speak plainly, majesty, I shall." Toby turned around as they got Sarah into the dress with a lot of rustling and muttering. At least once he heard Sarah murmur "wow" with real awe.

He finally turned back around.

After a long pause, in which Sarah swayed the skirt a little and looked abashed, she asked softly, "Tobe?"

He swallowed. "You look, um, magical. Which I guess was the point. You look like a princess. No, a queen." Toby rubbed his face, trying to make his brain work. "Sare, it's really awesome. Like, really, really awesome. You're gonna knock 'em dead."

At that, Sarah let loose with a laugh he hadn't heard in years. It actually sounded younger. "Thanks, Tobe. I … I really like it." Tobe watched her stare at her reflection in the glass, as if seeing something beyond what he was capable of. As if she was seeing someone else, someone that she certainly had a fierce love of. "In this dress, I feel like a princess. Like all my silly teenage dreams came true. Which he was smart enough to conjure up for me again." Smiling self-consciously, she turned to face him, looking a little embarrassed at her own enthusiasm. "God, I can't believe I'm acting like this. And stop looking at me like I've completely lost it, Tobe."

"I thought that when I found out you were dating him," Toby shot back.

Sarah raised an eyebrow and glared at him with what he recognized as threat, though low-grade, before looking away again to the mirror. "Can't say I blame you," she said with a knowing grin. With that, she gave in to what had to be temptation, and twirled around, the dress swirling out gracefully. Her laughter was light and free, making Toby grin to hear it. Sarah hadn't laughed that easily in a long time, since she'd gotten so very serious and grown-up, and if the Goblin King had given her back some of that lighthearted joy, Toby could almost forgive him for being, well, him.

Sarah froze, a shadow crossing her features, and Toby asked worriedly, "What is it?"

Her formerly open countenance had rearranged itself into an intense frown of concentration, searching somehow for something. "I don't know," she replied, distracted, her hand going to the key at her throat. "Something … Umardelin is doing something. I can't quite tell."

Jareth arrived at that moment. "It feels as though my dear interfering mother just tried our kingdom's patience too far," he said, cloak swirling about him.

Toby saw Sarah frown. "Is that what that is? It's like a mosquito buzzing in my ear. Kind of like the runner, but not quite."

"Runners are a different sort of trespass," Jareth told her. "You will be able to feel the difference in time, as your bond with the land deepens."

Toby just watched, out of his depth as Sarah talked casually about magic as if it were as ordinary as math. Just now she was crossing her arms and giving the Goblin King a Look. "And what did Della do to piss off our kingdom? She should know better, she's been queen of her own for how long?"

Jareth just shrugged. "Arrogance is a family trait, as you've no doubt noticed. It cannot have been too great an offense, or the goblins would be rushing to the attack."

Toby looked at him, perplexed. "You're awfully chill about the notion of goblins attacking your mom. And Sare, what are you talking about? You can feel what's happening here?"

Jareth grinned, answering for them both. "To be monarch of a fae kingdom is more than a mere title, Toby. A bond exists between ruler and ruled, which lets us feel by magic means what is happening in our realm. When something changes – a child is wished away, or an attack is made against the kingdom – we will both know, instantly. Most useful, that is, and the reason why few lands are taken from their rightful lords.

"As for the other matter, my mother is a more powerful sorcerer than I, and more subtle. If they truly set on her, which she has the wisdom to prevent, she has the skill to evade them. And should diplomacy and magic both fail her, my father will not. He is a great warrior, and less affected by iron than most."

"How'd that happen?" Toby asked, curious now. He'd never really thought about where Jareth came from, as if he were a force of nature or something. Thinking of him as someone who'd been a child, who had parents like Toby's own, made his head hurt.

"Jareth's dad is half human," Sarah supplied, when it looked as though he would launch into a long story. "And his mom is half owl. Fae genetics are weird."

"Sounds like," Toby laughed, his artist's mind wondering how owl and fae combined into one being. "Geez. Wait, Jareth, you're only half fae?"

Oh, the arch look that earned him! "My grandfather is a fae-born owl. As far as we reckon it, I am one-quarter human, three-quarters fae. And all king of this realm wherein you stand, brother of my lover."

Toby's nose wrinkled. "Dude. Don't remind me. I can deal with my sister being a fairy queen a whole lot better than dealing with her knocking boots with you."

"Enough, both of you," said sister intervened. "Watch it, Jareth. You make it sound as if there's something wrong with being part human. Not smart, when you plan to marry a human."

"There is nothing wrong with being wholly or half or any other portion human," Jareth elaborated. "T'was Toby who phrased it as an insult to my fae heritage. And you both know it is dangerous to mock the fae."

"Yet I do it every chance I get," Sarah teased, her eyes sparkling, and Toby groaned.

"Look, if you two are gonna be gross, I'm leaving," he said, and turned to go. There were some things little brothers didn't want to know, as he was discovering even more of late, and the grin on Jareth's face made it all too plain he had them in mind.

Before he had actually made it to the doorway, his sister called out to him. "Tobe, just hold your gorge and wait a minute," Sarah admonished, shaking her head. "This place … it's huge, and it can change on you. Better stick with a guide and not wander off too far before one of us can catch up. Hey, Neesk?"

The little goblin seemed to pop into existence, for once not leaping immediately to Sarah's shoulder. "Yes, yer queeniness?" he chirped.

"Would you please take Toby to see Sir Ludo or Sir Didymus, whichever of them is free? I don't want him to get lost."

"Sure!" Neesk replied, and jumped to Toby's shoulder instead. "You wanna see trolly-troll and foxy-fox? Both's down in courtyard."

Toby's eyes went a little wide at having something that … toothy sitting on his shoulder, but he had been telling himself to treat the goblins as people all day. It was something he needed to get over, to keep his place in Sarah's life now that she'd gone and turned the world upside-down with this whole queen business. That, even at this point, seemed utterly surreal. So he took a deep breath, and gave Neesk a reassuring smile. "Point the way, then."

Neesk sat up tall on his shoulder, tail flicked around his neck for balance, and pointed at the door. "Out theres and right down the hall," he said importantly.

Funny, he could see why Sarah liked this one.

Once the two of them were alone, away from whining sibling eyes, Sarah took a moment to lean back as Jareth wrapped her in his arms, still staring in the mirror. "Don't you dare wreck the dress," she warned with an impish smirk.

"I did not come here to ruin the work of so many hours," he replied. "You like it, I assume?"

Still smiling, the soon-to-be Queen of Umardelin nodded. "How could I not like it? It's gorgeous and crazy and over the top, just like you," Sarah told him with complete honesty, and he kissed her cheek. "I love it, obviously. Just the right side of outrageous."

"Good. I had thought to place a large rose at the waist, but my dressmaker kept 'accidentally' leaving it off, so I yielded to her judgment," Jareth informed her. "Why so eager to send your brother away?"

Actively thinking about it again got a groan from Sarah. "I'm gonna follow him in a minute, once I get this off and safely put up again," she said, and sighed. "But I wanted a word with you first. We need to keep my dear, foolish baby brother away from Beldych's wife."

"Marlene?" Jareth asked. "She is one of my most trusted staff. How could she have given offense?"

"She hasn't, but he will. Toby saw her in the hallway and had a fifteen-year-old moment. He's talking about love at first sight and all that garbage. I don't want our favorite head chef to gore him; although if he's too obnoxious with it, I may let him scare it out of him." She rolled her eyes ruefully.

Jareth forbore reminding her that she too had fallen in dramatic love at that age. The look on his face was enough for her to guess, and Sarah elbowed him anyway. Rather than scold her for it, he kissed her neck. "Very well, we shall protect young Toby from himself. Will you do me the honor of turning round? I have not yet seen this gown in motion."

"Uh-huh. That's what I thought. Though you went with purple this time," Sarah chuckled. "You hide it well, but you're a big cheesy romantic at heart." And she did step away, the skirts swaying, then spun in place.

The gown fit her perfectly, as lovely as he could have wished, and Jareth smiled to see it. Yet he could not resist adding, "You say such, knowing it is just as true of you."