A Twisting Heart And Mind

by FangamerBowiextreme

While unknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally allowed to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

36. Inevitable

A/N- So, I finally did it. I am...way way behind on this one, but life just kept throwing punches, so I've been chipping away as best as I could. I am immensely relieved to mark this chapter as done, and just in the nick of time, too —I was worried I wouldn't have time to squeeze in the Easter chapter of Night of a Thousand Deaths. Oof. Fingers crossed on that one. Anyway, as always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.

---

Chapter 28, Inevitable

---

The crystal rolled with ease. Like it was weightless. Like it wasn't touching his skin at all. It moved up and down.

Up...

It was so soft. So smooth. A pinpoint highlight kept her gaze locked in place, moving with its rhythm as it traveled down and up.

Down...

It refracted the room around them, twisted it into forms and colors too vague to be discerned. All but his skin. Skin that was also so soft and so smooth. So pale and flawless and…

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Jareth asked, angling his head down with a grin. He took in a deep breath, causing the crystal to roll quickly down his stomach. Aurelia stopped it just as it hit his navel.

"I am," she replied, rolling the orb around his navel with the tip of an index finger. "Does it bother you? I'm not tickling you, am I?"

Jareth's arm, angled behind his head, readjusted as his free hand lightly trailed up her back. Aurelia shivered, squirming on her side, and giggled.

"You're the one who's ticklish," he teased. Aurelia took hold of the crystal and popped it.

"That's really not fair. I'm defenseless."

Jareth watched as she pushed back her hair and scooched up to face him. She rested an arm over his chest as she came in close to his face. Her lower half escaped the blanket as she did this, and the new angle gave him a very pleasing view of her backside. The way light from the window painted a soft highlight down her spine to crest on her hip was...distracting.

The tip of his finger moved back down her spine. She nuzzled his nose with hers.

"Hm...stop that," she murmured.

"I think you like it."

Aurelia's fingers curled on his chest.

"You're teasing me," she said, then pressed a light kiss against his lips. "It isn't very nice."

She pulled away from him and nestled herself back under his arm, resting her temple against his chest while she watched her fingers dance along his sternum.

"Will you be leaving me soon?" she asked. Jareth stretched out his leg and took another deep breath.

"I don't know. Perhaps I'll lounge for a bit. You've tired me out —incessant fiend."

She chuckled at the way he said that, so light and playful. She kissed his pectoral and hugged him.

"What can I say? I was feeling inspired today."

He felt warm under her hand. Familiar. It was hard to believe how quickly he'd become her home. She closed her eyes as she savored it.

"Heh, is it Tuesday already?"

Aurelia scowled. Her lips pursed tightly together and she looked up at him with an angled brow.

"Yes. But that's beside the point."

Jareth's grin widened. He couldn't help it. She knew he was only teasing her, so yes her anger was trite. Still. Sometimes she just wanted to smack him. She felt his hand moving up her back again —an attempt to mollify her no doubt.

"Of course. Of course. My mistake," he said, biting down on that final syllable to hold his mockery back. But oh, that was more than enough. Aurelia huffed and leaned up off of him.

"Your mistake is right. I don't like when you do that," she said, turning away petulantly. Jareth's eyes briefly flickered from her bare breasts back to her face, then he too leaned up on an elbow.

"Do what? Speak the truth?"

She spied on him from the corner of her eye and saw he was cocking a brow of his own. Aurelia crossed her arms and twisted away even more.

"The truth? No," she said, then looked back at him with a frown. "You make it seem like it has nothing to do with you. I don't like that. It makes me feel...dirty."

She glanced down at the blanket pooling around her hips and gripped her arms a little tighter. Jareth tilted his head as he regarded her.

"I don't care if you're dirty," he said dryly. Aurelia did not respond. "And neither do I care what goes on in your head. So what if I'm a replacement? Does it make what we do any less fun?"

He watched her grip fall slack. Watched her brow tighten in profile. Contrary to his hopes, those words only disappointed her further.

Aurelia turned to face him with a look that was both bitter and sweet.

"I don't think of him when we are together, Jareth. You are no one's replacement."

Jareth held her stare for a moment, and then looked away.

"Careful with those words of yours. They may confuse me."

He spoke with an air of dismissal which was reflected in the way he closed his eyes and laid back down on the bed. Aurelia frowned as she stared down at him, then moved to lay atop him and cupped his face with her hands.

She tugged, which provoked him to open his eyes. She peered deeply into them, then pulled him forward into a kiss.

"You know I love you, Jareth," she said, then stroked his face with her thumbs. "You're precious to me —like a brother. Only...a lot more fun." She cracked a shameless grin and darted her eyes to the side. Jareth laughed very softly as he admired her. The morning light diffused through her hair in a way that haloed her. That vision —her smile— It calmed him.

"So a cousin then?" he asked cheekily. Aurelia giggled and angled her head down. When she was composed, she looked back up and kissed him again.

"What I mean is that you take care of me despite how awful I am. You assuage my demons and make me laugh when I'd rather cry." She tried to hold eye contact while saying this, but he compulsively looked away. Aurelia smiled very softly as her thumb trailed down his cheek. "So please, do not belittle my affection for you. You mean the world to me. Roldan simply means...something else. Nothing more and nothing less."

Her eyes lowered as her hands released his face. She really hated when he acted like that. When he deprecated himself with little, seemingly harmless quips that implied the only reason she felt passion for him was because she was thinking of Roldan. That wasn't true. Not at all. And she was ashamed that she'd inspired such a complex within him in the first place. Was that all he thought of himself? As a replacement? Did he really think just any man would do? That she was that kind of woman?

His comment on Tuesday was in fact a reference to the weekly meetings she and Roldan held on education reform. It was one of the only times the two of them got to be alone together...in close quarters...for an extended period of time. But...no. No, that had nothing to do with Jareth. Why couldn't he see that?

Jareth was silent for a moment, and then his eyes slanted back towards her.

"You're not awful, Aurelia."

She frowned once more, then gradually moved off of him.

"Aren't I? I certainly feel like it."

Jareth sat up once again, this time fully, watching as she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them.

"I don't know how to convey myself," she continued, turning her head to the side and resting her cheek atop her knees. "Three years it's been. Three years and...no one gets it." and she turned her head to the other side to look at him. "Not you. And certainly not him."

"You could start by actually saying something," Jareth said. Aurelia sighed.

"I say things to you all the time. But, sadly, none of it seems to stick. What makes you think Roldan would respond any differently?"

"I think you would be surprised by how he would respond."

Her fingers gripped her legs tightly on instinct, then she turned and buried her face in her knees.

"Surprised. Shocked. Mortified. Humiliated. Broken. Is it even worth it?"

There was a quibble behind the muffled tone of her voice. Jareth exhaled discreetly. She was pitying herself again.

"Worthwhile reward is not without risk," he said, and leaned down to rest his jaw on the palm of his hand. "But, if you're still so skeptical after all this time, perhaps he is not worth taking the chance on."

Aurelia lifted her head from her knees but continued to stare at them. She had a deep frown on her face now.

"You overestimate me. The strength of my feelings are not the issue which stops me, Jareth. You know that."

Jareth rolled his eyes.

"No, it's your reputation. So I'll say it again, perhaps he is not worth the risk?"

How many times had they had this exact discussion? How many times had he repeated these lines? He was starting to pity himself at the thought of how many more times he yet would. She had so many words to help him, and yet it seemed none of his would ever help her.

"It's not my reputation, Jareth. It's my regard," she explained, wincing a little as she took in a breath. "They are not the same thing, and...that is the least of the trouble." Her fingers curled tight against her legs and she shook her head. "You just...don't understand."

"No. I don't."

His tone was reticent. Provoking. Aurelia looked over at him sharply in reaction.

"Have you ever...wanted to be something you're not?" she asked, locking onto his stare in a way that made him hesitant to blink. "Have you ever wanted to make someone proud by doing ever more? By doing something that is not within you? That is false?" Desperation mounted with each question, turning her brow down in a look he detested —and still he did not blink. "Have you ever done those things despite yourself so many times over that, regardless of the exhaustion and the resentment, just the mere thought of letting that person down is enough to shatter your entire being?" Her voice cracked and she swallowed, licking her lips and composing herself before continuing. "When he looks at me...the way he looks at me...I want to be the person he sees. I want to be worthy of that. So I can't...I can't act so selfishly."

She looked away from him in favor of the comforter, which gave the irritation Jareth felt building the agency to break through. He narrowed his eyes on her, fighting off the urge to shake her back to her senses.

"If he cannot love you for who you are, then he does not deserve your love in the first place."

There was a little tremble in her lower lip. She bit on it as she scowled.

"No...no he would not," she said with conviction. "I have at least that much dignity. Still, I cannot bear to take that risk and find out. It has nothing to do with his worth. I am just...too cowardly. I would rather be...content as I am."

"That's a stupid sentiment," Jareth replied. Aurelia looked over. "You're no longer a girl hiding behind trees hoping to escape her parent's judgement, and yet you choose to still carry it with you. You are a queen, Aurelia. No one judges you."

He was giving her that look —that very serious, very cutting look. She adored that look on him. It always came out in defense of her.

She couldn't help but smile. Oh, this would all be so much easier if they could just love each other.

"Then I am my own worst enemy, it seems…for alI I can do is judge." She tilted her head as her expression gained more tenderness, but his jaw only tightened. He hated when she looked at him like that. He had no idea how to respond. "You are very sweet to me. And I do see the logic in your words, I do. But...this is not a matter of logic," she said and sighed. Her eyes lowered to the bed once more, watching as she anxiously fiddled with the folds in the blanket. "I sometimes wonder why that spark eludes us. It would be much more convenient. We seem far more compatible together, don't we?"

There was an odd inflection of humor in that question. It came with a little huff and a shrug. Jareth felt his brow furrowing tighter.

"I don't know. It seems I've never experienced that spark which you describe so often."

His tone turned bitter and he glanced away. Aurelia paused and peered up at him to catch a glimpse of a pout on his face.

"I know. Forgive me, I prattle," she said and scooted closer to him to reach out and turn his face back towards her. "I do pray for it though. For you to...find that feeling. I pray for it often." She was only marginally successful in turning his face, but he did concede to give her a side eye. He stared at her in silence and scrutiny. Aurelia stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. "And I hope...I get to see your face the moment it hits you. The moment you finally smile from the bottom of your heart. Just imagining it excites me. My...what a beautiful sight that would be." Her expression softened under a dreamy glaze, wilting her lashes and curling her lips so subtly. Jareth only frowned. He just didn't understand. Knowing he would not respond, Aurelia's eyes lowered and she released his face abruptly. "But...look at me, ruining our morning with such dour talk once more." She inched away from him and tucked her hair behind her ear, hunching her shoulders as she covered herself with the blanket. "You must be getting sick of it, surely. It's a wonder you come back to visit me at all."

She smiled forcefully, shining wonderfully under pale morning light. She was such a lovely thing. Lovely and...sad.

"Stop," Jareth said and grabbed her intently by the arm. Caught off guard, the smile fell from Aurelia's face as she leaned back from him. Jareth, realizing his impulse, clamped his jaw tightly shut as his eyes averted from her. "What if...what if I did feel it?" he asked. Aurelia's brow knitted. "What then? Would it be enough to make you happy?"

His questions were asked quickly, with uncertainty and a hint of terror. He kept his eyes off of her and gritted his teeth to a noticeable degree. Aurelia stifled another laugh as she watched him. He could act like such a boy sometimes.

"What if this and what if that," she said, using her touch and the gentle tone of her voice to ease the tension in him. Her eyes flickered down to his chest, watching her own hands as they lightly moved up it. "Didn't I just get through saying I am too cowardly to live my life by what ifs?" She smiled at him reassuringly, as she always did. Again, this was a moment that had been repeated between them far too many times. His mannerisms were always the same when he tried to love her —that is, conveying the fact that he had to try. That wasn't something she wanted. She preferred their relationship as it currently was: honest. "The last thing I want is your guilt or your pity, Jareth. Watching you force yourself only pains me," she said and pressed her temple against his shoulder. Her hands moved to draw spirals over his back, feeling in each finger tip the relief he was surely experiencing. "I know you care for me. That is not the issue. And the way you care is more than ample. So please, do not misunderstand, I do not begrudge you for not caring in that particular way." And she pulled away from her embrace to look up at him. "This life, the one I have right now, is good. I am grateful and...happy enough."

If memory served, this should be the end of it. He should say something like, "Alright," or "As you say," or any other dismissive phrase which would resolve the subject. This left Aurelia feeling very surprised when instead he said,

"I'm...sorry."

Aurelia blinked in confusion.

"What for?"

Jareth, with a firm scowl, darted his eyes strictly away.

"That I...cannot give you more. You are a queen. Happy enough...is not enough."

"I am not so greedy," she replied, pretending to distract herself by toying with his hair. And then, after a pause, sighed as she said, "Oh Jareth…I don't like this mood on you." And then she frowned. "Perhaps I've been careless. Perhaps I've relied on you too much," she went on, letting go of his hair to place her palm flat against his chest and look up at him. "You are my husband after all. You shouldn't have to bear the weight of these things." Then she shook her head at him with a look of sympathy. "Ignore me. Ignore all of this. I am simply being dramatic again. It is all just a matter of time, really."

"What do you mean?"

Aurelia glanced up quickly.

"What do you mean, what do I mean?" she retorted, then sat back on her heels. "We're married. Actively so. Eventually we will probably have children. Perhaps then I'll muster the courage. Perhaps then, when my lewdness will not tarnish your name, I'll ask him to be my mate. Then we may all live freely out in the open. Wouldn't that be something? I think it would be. I think...it would be perfect."

She glanced away with a wayward look to the future as she said that, leaving Jareth prey to the nagging twinges of frustration and ineptitude.

"You should not limit yourself on my behalf," he said. Aurelia shrugged.

"I don't. Not singularly, anyway," she said, then let out a long exhale as she rolled back on her butt. "Jareth, we are King and Queen. You work so hard, every single day, to better our kingdom. I may not see you, but I see your efforts, and I do what little I can to aid you. Times...are hard, and unstable, and tense. You're doing so much, but it could all come crashing down like a snap," she said and took a contemplative pause. "...you may not care about my reputation or your own, but that doesn't mean they do not matter. You need all the strength you can get. There are those who are just looking for a means to undermine you, and I will not give them reason. I will not bring scandal to your reign, or let my personal desires become a hindrance to all you strive for. Do you not at least understand that?"

She was hugging her knees again, staring out across the room with a vacant yet disappointed countenance.

"At least with this mentality…I will have something to look forward to."

Jareth was quiet for a moment, tilting his head as he weighed those sorry words of hers.

"Something to look forward to," he said contemplatively. "So, it's all business before pleasure then, eh? You're determined?"

There was something snarky in his voice. Something suspicious that had her glancing over at him. He was looking away as she turned, lowering himself back down to the bed. He let out a comfortable sigh and laced his hands behind his head.

"Perhaps that's the best course of action then," he said.

Aurelia's hands twitched.

"I don't understand."

"No? Did you not just get done explaining it all to me?" Jareth asked and shifted under what little of the blanket still covered him. "By your logic, it's all inevitable," he went on, closing his eyes with nonchalance. "—So why not now? Why wait at all?"

"Wait for what?" Aurelia asked. He was setting her up for a punchline, she knew that much. Still, she was surprised when he reached out and yanked her overtop of him. She recoiled just as their noses brushed, pressing her hands firmly against his chest to keep herself hovering.

Jareth grinned in that cute, canny way. In that way she'd come to recognize meant something undoubtedly...naughty. He leaned up that extra inch and nipped on her lip as he said, "To ease your conscience. To make things official." His tongue traced along her lip before planting a kiss at the corner of her mouth. And then her jaw. Then her neck— "Is it too selfish to make pleasure your business? And business...your pleasure?"

"Ah...Jar...I don't want to get ahead of myself," Aurelia quickly interjected. His hands had moved to brace her hips, holding her in place. She wriggled against him, but...that was a mistake. She swallowed as his lips brushed her neck, willing herself to focus. "So...I must ask...what exactly are you saying?"

His tongue traced the hollow of her clavicle, his lips curling in a grin at the way her breath quickened in spite of herself.

"If our child is the gateway that will make your life perfect, then so be it," he said, moving his hands higher up her back and gripping possessively. Aurelia's legs spread —just enough for him to wedge a knee between them. "That is something...hopefully...that I can provide for you." He kissed slowly across her chest, snaking his hands under the blanket to grope her bare skin as they moved back down. Aurelia stared straight at the headboard, trying to ignore what her lower half was now being firmly pressed against. "And then you can stop all this complaining and just be with him. That's what you want most, isn't it?"

"Jareth…" she said breathily. She was starting to give in to his seduction, but...she was frowning. "Please don't...don't say such things so coldly."

"Is it cold?" Jareth asked, bringing his hands up to fist in her hair as he bit on the side of her neck. Her head arched back instinctively, and she shivered when he whispered just below her ear, "I thought it was all a matter of time? Do I not need an heir? Do you not need a precedent?"

She ground herself against him, her eyes turning hazy as she gripped his shoulders. This damn man. He could distract her so easily. Get his way with a few well placed kisses...

"Yes, but you're making it sound so...so…"

Jareth leaned up and moved her onto her back. Her arms went around his neck, pulling him down to her as if it were reflex. He held himself just shy of her open mouth, however, his own vacant gaze staring through her own.

"So what?" he asked. When she did not respond, he angled his head to kiss the corner of her jaw. "Why do you care so much for the way things seem? We are alone in the confines of our bed, and still you worry over semantics." He pulled away to find her eyes averted. With disappointment, Jareth wove his fingers through her hairline. "Look at me, Aurelia." Aurelia obeyed, but the expression she gave him was full of misgivings. Jareth stroked a thumb against her temple. "That future. The one you just described. Is that what you want?" he asked.

Aurelia stared unblinking. He'd caught her off guard again.

"...y-yes," she said, flinching when his grip on her face suddenly tightened.

"And you'll have it no other way?"

She did not respond, but the pout on her lips and the rounding of her eyes was answer enough.

"Then let me give it to you," he said with a measure of desperation. "Or at least, let me give you the hope. Let me give you something."

Aurelia hesitated. Was he...being serious? Yes, she'd brought it up first, but it wasn't an idea she ever expected him to pursue. For a fae, to plan starting a family was pointless. Foolish even. It was something one could hope for and nothing more. A dream. And yet...he offered it in such earnest. What an arrogant boy, she thought. What a loveable fool.

"Jareth, do you even want a child? Let alone with me?" she asked. Jareth's brow knitted. Oh, that reaction again.

"That doesn't—"

"Don't you dare say it doesn't matter," she cut him off. She felt the conviction in his hold on her falter, saw him pull away ever so slightly. And, though he may curse her, she was glad to recognize it. He was trying again. Forcing. Lying. Did he not realize that only made her feel like more of a burden?

She felt such guilt. Such shame that her troubles were only imbedding uncertainty in him. As if he did not have enough to deal with, or enough expectations to meet already; now he acted like giving her his love was one of them. Like extending the pretense to the confines of their bed was something that would actually make either one of them happy. He never promised her his love, and so she had never expected it. He never offered her the world, and so she never asked for it.

And that was fine. That was more than fine. This was her life to live, not his to give her. He may not understand it, but she was well aware that the anguish she felt was entirely self-imposed.

A part of her preferred the coldness of the man who'd proposed to her in the garden. She admired such honesty. She cherished it. Had since become greedy and abused it. He was the one person she could be her true self with, and she wanted to be that for him as well.

And so she laid her heart bare, even when that meant lamenting over another man. Even when that meant implying that his companionship was indeed not enough. She did so selfishly and cruelly, over and over, and would continue to do so until he eventually did the same. She wanted him to. She wanted him to confide, to care, to be selfish, to find that piece of himself that it seemed only she noticed was missing. And that was why...for better or worse...she would never allow him to assume that falsehood with her. She would never allow him to become...well, someone like her.

There were so many things he was meant to be. So many things he was supposed to do. She didn't know how to make him understand that it was okay to want something else, that it was okay...to just be himself.

Oh Alvra, she was an utter hypocrite.

Passion faded from her face as realization unfurled. He'd been so sly in his seduction. His deflection. She liked to think another woman may not have noticed...just how sad a moment this actually was.

He dangled in front of her the fantasy of sharing a child together. Turned the prospect into an offer, made it something lewd and crass. Took away its sentiment entirely without a blink. A child was not a tool. It was not something to be used or devised, or as a means to an end. It was not...what he was raised to be.

She acknowledged her reluctance and her sympathy as a privilege. A basis for comparison that he plainly did not have.

"Maybe that's it then," she said, tilting her head as she inspected him. Jareth arched a brow. She had that inquisitive look about her. That narrowed eye that always preceded something that would only confuse him.

"What?" he asked.

Aurelia smiled. He looked suddenly apprehensive. She reached up and held his face.

Maybe this was the thing she'd been looking for. Something she could finally do for him. What she could provide to make the words stick...for them both.

That it was possible to be free. To be their true selves.

To be happy enough.

"When are you going to realize how loved you are?" she asked, ignoring his flinch of discomfort as she shook her head and leaned up to kiss him. "You can't fool me. I know you're not so apathetic. Perhaps a real family is what will finally make you smile," she went on, caressing his face lovingly. "Alright. I'll go along with this scheme." And she pulled away to boop him on the nose. "If nothing else, it will be fun."

Jareth stared at her skeptically. He'd expected an analysis or rebuttal of some kind, so her sudden aloofness kept him on edge.

"Heh. You flatter me," he said, guardedly, and only became more so when her grin widened.

"Of course I do." She was laughing at him now. In her eyes, at least. Still, it comforted as much as confused him.

He didn't understand her. Didn't understand why that stupid spark was so precious when all it seemed to do was cause her pain. He tried to feel it. He really tried. But every time he thought of the panic and the flutter and the anguish and the heat she described, there was just...nothing.

He didn't understand why he was so incapable. She was a good woman. Pleased him. Obeyed him. Understood him. But...despite all her tender touches and loving looks, incapable was all she made him feel. Incompetant. Unworthy. A failure. He wanted her to move on. To stop seeing him and look towards better, brighter things. He wanted to stay alone in his shadow. Alone in that dark place where no one looked. No one knew. No one cared. It was not a place to be shared. Not a place for someone like her to be.

Liana was his focus. Was all he had the capacity to desire. And the spite...it was all encompassing.

Yet...he still wanted Aurelia to be happy. She denied herself in support of him, so he owed her that much. So he supposed he was glad to see her so distraught over someone who was not him. It absolved him of responsibility. Repaying those tender touches and loving looks...was something only someone else could provide.

But she was so fucking stubborn. So neurotic and unnecessary. She should just take what she wanted and leave him behind—

"Well then? Our current position could not be more perfect," Aurelia said. Jareth blinked out of his daze. She was giving him a flirty curl of the lips as her eyes flickered to his mouth and back again, and he felt her fingers curl in his hair just before a tug. She brushed her lips just barely against his, her eyes turning misty as she whispered, "...would you like to get started?"

---

Sarah opened the door to her room and pushed it open. A shrill creak was her welcome, leaving her to stand idly and alone on the threshold. She looked from left to right, then sighed as she took a step in.

It was odd. She'd been gone a mere week, and yet this room already felt foreign. It was the same as she'd left it, but now seemed...just a little bit less than home.

She stared downward and rubbed the back of her neck as she walked towards her bed. It was so quiet. Her footsteps shuffling across the wooden floorboards became a sound she resented.

Because it meant she was alone. Because she had no idea what to do when she wasn't.

Closing her eyes, she inclined her head and sighed once more at the ceiling. The ride home from Sulu had gone as planned: quiet, comfortable, restrained…

She supposed Mariella was right. Ignoring the issue for the immediate future was turning out to be marginally better for her sanity. She and Jareth had been getting on fine. But now...now she just felt bad.

He'd been exceptionally kind to her over these last couple of days. Had been careful and uncharacteristically patient. She knew he was still worrying over their fight, and she knew that tension was sure to endure while that remained only half the issue.

She just didn't know how to get past her tied tongue, and every moment that went by in silence only made it harder.

She was having tea with Delphine tomorrow. The second queen of Yore was also a bride of conquest and a new mom. Sarah made the argument that, hopefully, she would find whatever backbone she lacked after meeting with her.

Or maybe there was something else tripping her up. Who the hell knows…

She'd just kicked off her boots when a knock came at the door. It was late, past nine in the evening. Mariella and Roldan had gone their separate ways, and Jareth had things to see to, so...who could it be?

She opened the door casually only to immediately draw back in surprise. She just stood there blinking a few times —like she was seeing a ghost.

"L-Liana?"

Sarah looked dumbfounded in the middle of the doorway. Liana, so very happy to finally see her face again regardless of her expression, smiled from ear to ear.

"Hello, Sarah."

Sarah's hand readjusted on the door, then she abruptly took a step back in preparation to welcome her in.

"W-what are you doing here? It's been so long—"

So long she'd practically forgotten the woman's existence. When was the last time she'd seen her? She couldn't even remember right now.

Liana clasped her hands politely in front of herself.

"I know...I apologize for my sudden appearance. I know you've only just returned, so I'm sure you're tired. I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

Sarah blinked rapidly again as she inhaled. For some reason, she was excited.

"No. No, it's okay. I've missed you, actually—" she said and cut herself short. What? Why the hell did she say that?

Liana watched as a look of confusion twisted Sarah's face, and smiled again. It seemed their connection was still strong despite spending so many weeks apart. My, how nice it felt to be close to her master once more.

"May I come in then?" Liana asked, her voice smooth as silk. Sarah ceased her stammering and looked up.

"Of course."

Sarah angled away and gestured for Liana to enter, her eyes trailing along the iridescent shimmer or her gown. It was pale, made of reflective rainbowed tones. Each layer of her skirt had a spine, like insect wings. Gosh. She was always so beautiful.

"Do...you want some tea or something?" Sarah asked. Liana paused and turned, her back kept in perfect posture. Sarah had to tilt her head up to look at her. She'd forgotten how tall she was.

"That would be lovely," Liana replied.

Swallowing down a peculiar rise of nerves, Sarah bustled towards the dining table and rang her little bell, then gestured for Liana to take the seat across from her.

"Please, have a seat."

A goblin arrived a moment later carrying a platter. The goblin, Smen, set it down in front of Sarah, then bowed to them both before leaving. Sarah sat as prettily as possible as she pulled back the lid to reveal a steaming pot and a pair of cups.

"So...where did you go? What have you been doing all this time?" she asked as she prepared their drinks. Liana waited until her cup was offered before responding.

"I had some...personal matters in need of resolving. My departure was sudden and...unexpected." She pursed her lips as she took a tiny sip. Sarah rolled her lower lip over her teeth as she watched her. She felt very energized all of the sudden.

"Oh...I'm sorry," Sarah replied. "It's better now, I hope?"

"It's getting there," Liana said, perfectly aloof. "Enough for me to return to my duties here, at least."

"Well, that's good."

"Indeed."

Sarah glanced down at her cup, tapping a nervous finger against it while Liana observed. After a moment of silence, Liana started up again.

"I returned several days ago, actually, but you and His Majesty had already left. I'm shamed to say I've been loitering a bit. I wanted to make sure to see you right away once you came back."

Sarah peered up with a knitted brow.

"Why?"

Liana tilted her head to the side, her eyes falling over Sarah in a rather invasive manner.

"To see how you're doing. When last we met, you were a bit….out of sorts," she said, then looked up to catch Sarah's gaze. "Do you remember?"

Sarah sat back in her seat. There was a subtle sharpness in the way Liana was looking at her. She pursed her lips and thought back. The last time she saw Liana was...

"Oh. Oh my God," Sarah said, covering her face with her hands as it turned beet red. "I'm sorry. Jesus. I completely forgot. I uh...I was a little out of my mind that day. I'm so sorry," she totally stammered, shaking her head as a rock of mortification seated itself in her throat. It felt so long ago now —felt so unreal— it was hard to believe that, in actuality, it'd only been a handful of weeks. The last time she'd seen Liana was the night of her mental breakdown. The night she'd lost her virginity and forced herself on Jareth...

"Please forget that even happened," Sarah quickly continued, shooing away the memories back to the blackened depths where they belonged. "You had to be so confused. I'm...sorry you had to sit through that."

Liana watched in sympathy as Sarah huddled into herself, no longer able to meet her in the eye, but what she saw was more than just a display of panic and insecurity. She could see her emotions. All of them. She could see them flare and paint themselves across her very being —and they were many. Of all colors and vibrancies and shades. Liana felt the urge to reach out and ease her master's troubles, but she didn't dare.

"Please don't apologize," she said, then took a sip of her tea to keep the mood casual. "And fret not; I am the very last person who will judge you. I wasn't bothered that day in the slightest, so we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Although...I have been terribly distressed since. I was called away so suddenly, I was hesitant to leave you in that state. I've been worried about you."

Sarah paused her unfettering and glanced over at Liana. The tone of her voice calmed her. Washed over her. And she...felt better. She inhaled and settled herself down.

"Thank you. I appreciate that. I...don't really want to rehash all of it, if that's okay. It was kind of...a lot to deal with."

The flash of a little grin twisted the corners of Liana's mouth before she set her cup back down on the table.

"If that is your wish." and she dipped her head. "But...things seem to have changed in the time I've been away, yes?"

Sarah's brow slowly furrowed.

"Ah...yeah. A...lot has happened since then." She sounded distracted as she spoke, disconcerted, worried. Liana could tell she was getting lost in her memories.

"Are you alright?" Liana asked.

"Yeah," Sarah immediately responded. Then her eyes darted. She fell into a contemplative pause and then, with more confidence, said, "Yeah...I'm better."

Liana tilted her head to the other side.

"And Jareth?"

Sarah tensed. That question felt...odd. Like it was spearheaded. Like it jabbed straight into her heart. What the heck?

"Jareth is…better too. Things are a lot different from how they were that day," she explained, subtly trying to figure out where all these complicated emotions were suddenly coming from.

"I see," Liana said, shrewdly hiding behind the rim of her cup. "And different is good?"

Sarah stared across the table for a prolonged second. She felt strange now. ...suspicious. Liana carried herself candidly, but...this feeling...it was kept building. It meant something.

"...yes," Sarah replied. Liana gave her a gentle smile and set her cup back down to the table.

"Then I'm relieved."

"Have you...seen him tonight?" Sarah asked.

"No. I can meet with him at any time. My interest foremost was in seeing you," she said, then, pretending to just now notice Sarah's quizzical expression, tilted her head again in feigned concern. "Is something wrong?"

Sarah fidgeted. She felt...uncomfortable now. When just before Liana's very presence soothed her, she now couldn't shake a rather abrasive tension forming between them. She felt the pull of Liana's voice, felt the comfort that might come from simply reaching out to touch her, but was apprehensive to give into it. She didn't know why she was feeling these things. It was...hard to gauge.

Liana glanced down. Sarah was fighting against her influence. Fighting against the compulsion to be manipulated even if it brought her peace. That surprised her. She remembered quite clearly the moment Sarah had barred her from emotional interference, but she didn't think her conviction would remain so strong in person. It seemed her ignorant master had merely been caught off guard when she'd first arrived, but now that determination was returning and cutting her off.

This was a good thing, honestly. It meant Sarah had more competence and mental fortitude than was expected of her. Meant she stood a better chance in prevailing the awakening. She probably had Jareth to thank for this...as if she would ever.

"I know it's been some time, but...I hope you haven't forgotten all that I've told you," Liana went on, hoping to sound reassuring. "I'd like to help you, Sarah. However I can." She smiled again, but Sarah was hardly affected. She looked confused more than anything. Liana thought to test her a little further. "Is he still treating you cruelly?" she asked.

"No…" Sarah reluctantly replied. Liana arched a brow.

"Good. Are you still at war with your feelings?"

And now Sarah glared. Liana felt a kickback, the wall between them strengthening.

"No," Sarah said, firmly.

Liana stared. Stared so deeply the look passed through her. Sarah watched her head tilt to the otherside yet again, this time slowly.

"Is it about the baby?"

A ripple spread through the veil separating them. Weakened it for one split second. If Liana had intentions, she could have passed through it just now. But she didn't. She only stared.

"H-how do you?"

"I am a woman with highly attuned senses, Sarah," Liana said, easing back in her seat. "Consider it one of my gifts." Sarah, beating down a flare of panic, glanced into her lap with a very worried countenance. "From your reaction, I take it you haven't yet told him?" Liana asked. Sarah, with a tightly clenched jaw, shook her head in silence. Taking back the upper hand, Liana reached for her cup and pulled it close to her mouth. "...why not?"

Sarah hesitated. That comment blindsided her. It took her a moment to find composure before weakly replying, "I...don't know."

"No?"

The inflection in Liana's question earned an upward glance. Sarah locked eyes with her, nibbling on her lip before shifting in her seat.

"I'm...just scared I guess," she said.

"Of what? His reaction?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I just...don't want things to change again."

Why the hell was Liana being so pushy? Why did she care in the first place? Did she really just show up out of nowhere to corner her into divulging all the anxiety she'd spent the last two days trying to repress?

Feelings of vexation joined Sarah's panic until the cluster twisted into something worse. She sat straighter with a more defensive posture. And, just like that, Liana felt the wall re-stabilize. She was firmly forbidden now. By the will of a mere human. Hmph.

Liana tried her best not to show a smirk, admittedly impressed. Well, looks like Jareth actually has been teaching you something...

"Change doesn't always have to be for the worse," Liana said, placing her hands in her lap. She sat in silence for a moment, that amber stare of hers unnerving in its invasiveness. "Are you happy, Sarah?" she randomly asked. Sarah blanched. "You certainly don't look it, but sometimes that question is more complicated than it lets on. Would you agree?"

Sarah pursed her lips. She felt put on the spot. Like she was being bullied. That didn't make sense —not from Liana. She'd always come off so unimposing, kind, and patient. Sarah wondered what exactly was going on or, if maybe, it was just in her head…

She felt strangely composed as she thought over Liana's question —the answer, surprisingly, easy to find.

"I am happy," Sarah said, then impulsively glanced away. "Or...I'm happier. Jareth and I...have been dealing with what happened. It's been rough and...we're not quite there yet, but...I have been happy with him —more than I ever expected."

Liana didn't respond right away. Sarah peered up to spy her smiling.

"Good." Liana spoke softly and looked down at her lap, feeling something akin to humility. She had to admit, this visit was primarily for her own comfort —not Sarah's. Oh, the irony. But, even being cut off like this, she was happy to see her so strong. "It looks like you've been holding your own. I'm comforted. I was concerned what might happen without me around," she said.

"You were right to be. It's been...a crazy couple of months," Sarah replied, then turned her eyes to the side. "I met all the council seats. Got married. Went to Fyrn. Was attacked, poisoned, and almost died..."

"Yes, I heard of that," Liana said, cutting her off. Sarah paused. "I'm so relieved His Majesty was able to save you." She sounded so pleasant it was almost fake. Sarah couldn't discern it, so her brow only tightened as she glanced back at her.

"Yeah. Me too."

Their eyes were locked. What was this? Why was she so suspicious? Was Liana feeling it too? She honestly couldn't tell. She looked so harmless. So normal.

"Do you love him?"

Sarah drew back skeptically. Well that was direct —and so was the look in Liana's eye. She was getting pushy again. Why was she invested in this? Why would she care at all?

"I...do…" Sarah replied.

"Hm. You sound reluctant," Liana said and cocked her head. "Are you ashamed to say it?" Silence was her answer. Liana quirked a brow. "You have no reason to be. You've earned it."

Sarah huffed impulsively.

"Heh, earned what? The right to be in love with him?" she asked snidely.

Liana chuckled, but it was a sound much more deliberate than Sarah's had been. Sarah watched her try and fail to stifle a wide grin before waving her off.

"Oh, heavens no," she replied, brimming with amusement. "It should be more the other way around, shouldn't it? No, what I meant is that you have the right to take pride in your own happiness," she explained. Whether by her words or her good nature, Sarah felt her guard lower just a fraction. The woman looked chipper. Like she'd just had a good ol' laugh at Sarah's expense. Or...maybe Jareth's. But was it sincere?

After a moment with no retort, Liana went on.

"So...do you think he will be displeased with the news?"

Sarah darted her eyes away again.

"I don't know. I think I'm just making up excuses," she said, knotting her hands in her lap as she shrugged. "I was just putting it off before, but then...we kind of...got in a fight over something else. I don't want this new development to push our current issue aside where it will never be dealt with..."

"And what issue is that?"

Sarah licked her lips, contended over her strange reluctance to open up. After a moment, she did so anyway. She'd said this much, so there was really no point in holding out now.

"Me being a prisoner in the Underground," Sarah said, deadpan. "Apparently, I can't leave because of the rules of running the labyrinth. I left once and came back, so I'm stuck here now…" she elaborated, and then glanced up. But...wait a minute— "Is that true? Does that even make any sense?" she suddenly asked. That's right. Liana was powerful, supposedly. On par with Jareth by his own admittance. Surely, she would know something about this? Be able to tell her if he was lying... "I've been learning about the methodology of magic and...while I'm obviously no expert, I'm not sure that adds up."

Liana bit on her tongue. She could feel sadness wallowing within her. Feel the accompanying worry and uncertainty being built around it. She could feel how badly her master wanted to know the truth. Wanted to believe there was no truth left to uncover. She wanted to trust Jareth. Desperately. And Liana...wanted to sooth her master.

"It is true, unfortunately," she said, glancing off to the side. "The Labyrinth is a unique entity composed of very old magic. You could say it...has its own rules. The magic imprinted on you is bonded to it and this world. So long as that remains, you will not be able to leave."

Was that too much? Had she been too direct? It was a precarious line to tread, this deception business. Lying by telling just enough of the truth. Still, regardless of the mutual secrets they must keep, this was a matter she revealed with full disclosure. Sarah could not go home. Magic would not let her. Liana would not let her.

Sarah shifted in her seat, then sighed.

"Jareth said there was a way to break that connection, sever whatever terms that are still binding our contract or whatever, but...it might kill me," Sarah muttered. Liana frowned.

"That is also true."

Sarah sat in silence, conflicted over the realization that, deep down, she was hoping Jareth had been lying. For whatever reason, she believed Liana despite her wavering suspicion.

So...that was it then? She really was stuck?

"He said he'd try to find another way, so at least I could see my family," Sarah went on, looking up from her lap. "But...he never said he'd give me the actual choice to leave."

"Do you want to leave?" Liana asked.

"...no," Sarah replied. "Not permanently, anyway. But...it's not even about that. It's about free will. If I want to leave Jareth and go back to my old life, I should be able to. He shouldn't have to grant me permission—" she said, then abruptly stopped, recognizing those words as someone else's. That's right. She should be able to take what she wanted. Authority be damned. Jareth had said that himself…

"Although….he did offer freedom from him," she went on, her gaze falling sullenly on the floor. "He said he wouldn't force me to be in a relationship with him. We could go our separate ways, if that's what I wanted. I just...would have to keep living in this world —keep being Queen."

She pinched the tips of her fingers as she spoke. Liana, perfectly attuned to her inner thoughts, sighed very softly.

"And your response?"

Sarah winced.

"I told him the truth," she said with a shrug. "I...I love him. I want to be with him. Despite how this started...it's become impossible for me to leave all of it behind and go back to my mundane existence in the Aboveground like none of it happened." and then she averted her eyes and sighed. "But...me loving him isn't the end all, be all. I won't let it be. I want more. I want the beauty of both worlds. I want to have adventures, and be surrounded by magic and wonder and all the things that make this place so extraordinary. I want my parents, and technology. I want to have conversations with people who can actually identify with me. I want to listen to music on the radio, go to a movie, and use a freaking hair dryer. So, I can't help but think...his offer would mean more if one of the alternative options was something more tempting than breaking up. Was something I might actually want."

Her voice tapered off into a moment of contemplation. Liana waited patiently, watching as that brief upheaval of emotion settled all on its own. With another shallow breath, Sarah pursed her lips in a look of disappointment. "It's put us in a bit of a weird place. And...I just don't want to add to the drama right now."

Liana's eyes caught a haze as she smiled.

"I'm proud of you."

Sarah glanced over in confusion.

"You've come a long way in our time apart. I'm very happy to see that," Liana continued, the warmth in her smile spreading. "I told you once to fight him. It seems you've finally figured out how "

Sarah's look of confusion twisted with discomfort.

"Not really," she replied, then knotted her hands. "It's just been a lot of trial and error, mostly."

Liana stifled a chuckle.

"But you're standing on equal footing now. You give yourself, but not completely. And you want more than he can give you. That is a good balance. It will help keep his priorities straight."

Sarah uncurled her hands and stared at Liana in scrutiny. She was being very patronizing. Had she always been this way? Why was it bothering her now?

"You're very intuitive. It's...kind of eerie, to be frank," Sarah said.

"Forgive me. I have a tendency to stick my nose in other's business," Liana replied, casually, with a little flutter of the hand. "I enjoy...observing people. Understanding them." And then she tilted her head to the side. "With that said, how long do you plan to keep this a secret? I must warn you, it's not something you are capable of concealing for much longer. Soon your pheromones will become too strong for your human vessel to repress."

"Yeah...I know," Sarah said, slumping her shoulders. "I think a part of me is waiting for that. If Jareth smells it and figures it out on his own….then I don't have to tell him. Maybe that's why I'm putting it off. Shirking responsibility. I don't know."

She sounded tired as she finished that last sentence. Liana burrowed her vines a little deeper.

"Do you not want the child?"

Sarah's brow drew tight.

"I...I don't want to be pregnant right now, that's for damn certain," she said, rather promptly. Then she took a sharp breath through the nose. "That being said, I'm not about to go throw myself down the stairs —if that's what you're really asking." And she caught Liana's eye to show she meant it. "It's just another thing I need to deal with." Feigning confidence, she leaned back in her chair and sighed. "The timing between this and our fight is just…too perfect. I've been thinking about my family a lot." And her eyes lowered absently. "I just...really wish I could talk to my parents."

There was a break in the conversation as Liana analyzed Sarah's emotions. After a few seconds, she spoke.

"I wish that for you as well," she said, then lowered her head emphatically. "I'm sorry you're going through such hardships. If there's anything I can do to ease them, please ask."

Sarah hesitated before responding, crossing her arms as intrusive thoughts distracted her.

"Do you think it will be possible?" she finally asked, then blinked out of her musing. "For Jareth to find a safe way for me to see them, I mean. You work with different magic, right? Do you know of anything that might work?"

Oh, how so very close she was to discovering it all. One wrong turn of phrase and the whole world might end.

"I think Jareth is more than capable of the task," Liana replied with a humble smile. "We...disagree often, but his skill in magic is something I have never questioned. If he truly wishes to redeem himself to you, I think he will have no choice but to pull through. Don't you agree?"

Sarah was silent. That answer was kind of vague. It disconcerted her. Yet, at the same time, she believed it. She believed Liana. Or...she wanted to, anyway.

When it seemed Sarah would not respond, Liana took the initiative and dropped her hands in her lap.

"Well, it's getting rather late. I should probably be going," she said and made a move to stand. Sarah impulsively stood with her. "Thank you for the tea, Sarah. It's been good to see you again."

"Oh. Um. Of course. It's good seeing you too," Sarah replied, going through the motions of seeing her out while wondering why she was leaving so abruptly in the first place.

Liana paused in the doorway and glanced back.

"And please remember, if you ever need me, all you have to do is call. I plan on sticking around for the foreseeable future."

She smiled sweetly like they were the best of friends. Sarah felt very off kilter.

"Okay. Thank you. Good night, Liana," she said. Liana smiled one more time.

"Goodnight, Sarah."

---

Sarah stood alone in her room once more.

Well that was random. Nice but...random.

She went back to pacing towards her bed. Her original intention had been to change into sleepwear. She pulled out some pajamas from her dresser and tossed them on the bed, then sat at her vanity to take off her shoes.

It was unnerving that Liana could immediately sense her condition, and her explanation of such wasn't exactly forthcoming. She was as mysterious as ever. But, this time, Sarah couldn't shake a feeling of worry. Like there was a rift between them. Like...she could see her clearly.

That was weird, wasn't it? She hardly even knew Liana, but she had no reason to distrust her...

She leaned up and took a moment to brush out her hair, wondering how long it would be before Jareth came back.

Should she tell him about Liana's visit?

Debating this issue made her feel like she was being forced to pick a side. She didn't like that. Didn't like how she felt tugged equally between the two.

She sighed through her nose as a small frown formed.

Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe they could both be trusted...

A little glimmer caught the corner of her eye, so she turned her attention towards it reflexively.

Her gaze landed on a crystal. One of the two Jareth had given her.

She picked it up and inspected it closely, her brow furrowing at the realization that she'd forgotten all about it.

That's right. This crystal let her share someone else's dream. He'd given it to her after a fight. As a way for her to...see her family.

Her hand flexed around the orb, but whatever sense of excitement she was about to feel, it left before it could be given the chance.

Yes, she could be in their dreams, but the experience wasn't the same as being with them. The few times she'd used this, it was chaotic. They knew who she was, but never really saw her. It was like being flung around as a character in a play. She couldn't feel them. Couldn't influence them.

It was nice to see them, and see them happy in their fantasy, but...what she yearned for was connection. And this crystal...couldn't give her that.

Her gaze passed through the warped refractions of the crystal as she thought over this. Then, while she wasn't paying attention, the door to her room gently creaked open.

Jareth walked in. She noticed him a second too late, and noticeably flinched as she sat up straight in her seat. She turned to look at him and impulsively concealed the crystal in her lap.

Why was she hiding it?

Jareth paused in his step against her very suspicious reaction, taking a moment to regard her as he closed the door behind himself.

"Hey," she said a little anxiously. "Did you finish your meeting?"

Jareth glanced from one side of the room to the other. The air smelled strange. Charged. Like Liana.

"Yes…" he gradually replied, slyly scoping out the room as he approached her. Her posture became a fraction more rigid with each step, her hands covering the crystal as best she could in her lap. "Did you have a visitor just now?" he asked. Sarah blanched.

"Um. Yes. Liana was just here. She's back from her trip too, apparently."

She watched Jareth carefully. His reaction to this news was as expected: bothered but not exactly surprised. Her brow worried the longer he remained quiet. Why the hell was he so wary of her?

"I see," he said, and turned to look down at her. "And how did that go?"

Sarah stared up and blinked. His tone was very neutral, but she had no doubt this was an interrogation.

"Um...alright? she didn't stay for very long. She said she just wanted to check up on me." Jareth's gaze remained stern and fixed on her. Sarah blinked and looked away awkwardly when he did not respond. "Is that...a problem?"

Jareth stared for one moment longer, doing his best to analyze whatever state of influence Liana may have put her in. The memories of past incidents brought him honest fear. He would not allow them to be subjected to such manipulation again.

But...she seemed fine. Everything was fine.

"No…" he eventually said. "It's not a problem."

Sarah was distracted by his darkening sense of aloofness, so she failed to realize her hands had fallen limp in her lap. Jareth's eyes flickered down. Then one brow arched.

"What have you there?"

Sarah blinked. Paled. Tensed in her seat as her attention shot down to her lap. Fuck. And the hits just kept coming.

"Um...it's my dream crystal. The one you made for me, remember?"

Her voice was meek, embarrassed even. She kept her eyes to the side to avoid catching his reaction.

But perhaps that was worse, for the silence it was replaced with ran rampant in her mind. She sat on the edge of her seat. Then, just as she was about to give in and look up, he asked "...do you still use it?"

There was something...unexpected in his tone. Her anxiety fled as she looked up at him.

He looked bothered, much the same as she. She felt her shoulders relax as she wondered why the hell she'd been so nervous in the first place.

"Not...in a while," she said, testing the mood. When his expression did not change, she drew her brow a little tighter. "Why?"

"I don't recall you ever using it," he said, then glanced to the other side. "I guess...that was one of the reasons why I thought you no longer cared to see them."

Sarah felt compelled to look down at her lap. She understood why this was making him uncomfortable. She also knew...that that was a valid point.

"I used it when you first gave it to me," she said, drawing little circles over the orb in a restless manner. "But...to be honest...you've been sleeping here for a while now, and...it just seemed awkward...to use it while we were together." Her finger paused and she peered up at him. Despite his frown, his thoughts were impossible to read. "And then...I guess...I just kind of forgot about it…"

The sense of shame that accompanied those words tasted vile on her tongue. Was she a hypocrite? Making such a big fuss about being with her family and then forgetting about a means of doing so? Yes, the experience was not authentic, but...could beggars really be choosers?

"It also...made me sad," she added on.

"Sad?"

"Yeah. I couldn't really...interact with them. I was just a part of their dream. But for me, it was like...being stuck behind glass."

Jareth stared down at her with a look of disappointment. From this angle, she looked like she was cowering again. Like she felt these were thoughts she was not allowed to express. It frustrated him.

"If my gift was insufficient, you should have told me."

Sarah's head whipped up in reaction.

"No. That's not—"

"With that said," he cut her off, then bit back a sigh. "I think...you should give it another try."

He'd been looking away from her, but now turned his eyes to lock on hers. Sarah was staring at him in a gape, quite clearly surprised.

"You do?"

"I've been thinking a great deal about our...predicament," he said, ignoring her redundancy. Sarah's frown returned at the sight of him crossing his arms. "I told you I will need time, but...that may be a decent work around. For now, at least."

And now she looked befuddled.

"...how so?" she asked, then shook her head. "I just told you, it's not the same. I have no control. It's too chaotic—"

"Chaotic, hm?" Jareth interrupted. Sarah paused and shut her mouth. "Goodness, If only you knew how to dreamwalk." The sarcasm in that sentence was slack but clear as day. Sarah drew back in her seat. "Remember when you asked if you could become the invader?"

Sarah's brow drew slowly.

"Yes…"

"Well?"

She glanced down at the orb in her hands, then back at him.

"So...you're saying this crystal can allow that? That I can...control their dreams?"

"Now that you know how to do so, yes."

That earlier twinge of excitement returned, this time unimpeded. Sarah felt a little rise in her chest. If that was true, then that meant—

"That crystal is a void," Jareth continued, gearing up for an elaboration. Sarah sat attentively. "—A pocket world, in a sense. It acts by bringing separate psyches into one space. That is why it was so disjointed before. I assume you took on more than you could handle, so multiple dreams were combating for dominance. However, if you know how to properly navigate a dreamscape, then…"

"I can manipulate it."

"Precisely." He paused as they locked eyes. She looked wildly excited now. Jareth tried not to think about it. "You've experienced how a well orchestrated dream differs from the unsuspecting. It paves the way for actual sensations like touch, taste, and smell to worm through. A settled subconscious also grants clarity of thought and autonomy. Lucid dreaming." Sarah nodded along. She already knew all of this from their lessons, but hearing it now seemed to give it new meaning. By contrast, the way Jareth stared at her was apprehensive. He scowled a little before continuing on. "You won't be in your world," he said with a frown. "—And it won't technically be the same as being with them in the flesh, but...there's no reason why it can't look, feel, and sound exactly like it."

A wonderful little gape parted Sarah's lips. She looked away from Jareth and down to the crystal again. Now she clutched it. Now it seemed so precious.

"I...it never even occurred to me…" she mumbled.

"I know."

And why would it? He'd never bothered to explain any of this. Never bothered to actually help her until he was forced into doing so. This conversation, her uplifted reaction, it was all so frustrating. He should have done this for her from the start.

"I recommend starting out small," he said, maintaining sterility for his own pathetic sake. Sarah glanced up once more. "Choose one, and build your strength until you can properly handle multiple."

"Oh...okay…"

"You'll also need to engage their suspension of disbelief. They won't know they're in a dream unless you tell them. But that will be your choice. And, once they do…"

"They'll be self aware. I remember."

She sounded certain. Did not even blink while replying. Jareth paused and bit the inside of his cheek.

"You can handle this. You've been doing very well."

Sarah, with a measure of confidence, replied, "I know."

And then silence. An awkward one. Jareth's hand clenched discreetly as he angled away.

"Well, it's convenient then. I came here...to tell you I have other matters to resolve before the night is through. We'll be gone most of the day tomorrow, so...they ought to be dealt with now."

"Oh…" Sarah replied. And now she frowned. She tightened her grip on the crystal, but now felt a familiar, yet disheartening, ambivalence towards it. "How long will you be?" she asked.

"I can't say."

He turned to leave then, refusing to look her in the eye as he did so. She felt very guilty now, though she knew she had no reason to.

"Jareth?" she called out. He stopped just before reaching the door and looked back at her. She gave him a little smile as she said, "Thank you."

Jareth's brow formed a scowl. Something terse and guarded. It was not the reaction she was hoping for.

"This isn't something I want to be thanked for," he said, and exited the room.

---

Sarah's eyes fluttered open to the sight of a kitchen. Bright, ambient light cast as beams from an awning window cut through the space. She stood silent in the doorway. For one split second, she was confused. And then the smell of coffee filled her nose.

A little twitch of clarity shook her head, and then she gaped.

"Oh, Sarah, you're home! Come on in."

Her father was standing with his back to her, pouring himself a cup just as he'd glanced back to toss her a smile. Sarah took a tentative step inside.

"What have you been up to? Feels like ages since I've seen you," he asked.

"Yeah…it has."

Sarah's brow tightened as she stared at him and moved precariously towards the dining table. It worked? It really worked? He was here?

She analyzed him like he was little more than computer code. She'd learned to tell the difference between a projection and another consciousness. And she was...impressed to realize just how well Jareth's teaching had paid off. Yes. It was him. This was her father. She knew it.

"Where's Karen and Toby?" she asked.

This was a test. She'd taken Jareth's advice and only focused on linking with one subconsciousness. His answer now would ground his disbelief.

"Ah...I don't know? Out shopping, probably," he replied as he angled back and offered her a mug. "Do you want some coffee?"

Sarah sat down slowly at the dining table. She gripped the back of the chair tightly. With intention. She could feel the wood. The texture. The coolness of the varnish.

"No...I'm good," she said. Her father shrugged and turned back around, setting the second mug down on the counter before coming to join her at the table. Sarah, more nervous than she had initially anticipated being, eyed him like a hawk all the while.

She heard the scrape of the chair as he pulled it back. Felt the vibration of it moving through the floor. It was working. Her composure was working. This place...it was artifice. And yet…

She glanced around quickly, looking for fault in the scenery. No doubt, the room had been idealized by them both. everything was just too clean. The daylight just oh-so-golden. This should have been enough to disillusion her, but...despite being a bit too perfect, she could not escape the feeling of familiarity. Of home.

"H-how are you?" Sarah asked, impulsively dropping her gaze to the tabletop to mask the little waver in her voice. Her father failed to notice, preoccupied with stirring the sugar he'd just poured into his cup.

"Good. Same as usual," he replied. Sarah's eyes peered up discreetly.

And now she paused. She had a decision to make. One she'd never done without training wheels. This was her first lucid dream without Jareth for guidance. Without him to save her and reset should she mess up. The possibility of jarring him and sending them both into a nightmare made her nervous. So maybe...maybe it would be better to leave him in disbelief?

But...no. No, what she wanted was connection. To speak with the real him. She couldn't express herself the way she needed to while speaking through a veil.

Welp, here goes nothing.

"Do you know...what's going on?" she asked. Her father paused and set down the spoon.

"What do you mean?"

He picked up his cup and took a sip. He seemed his normal self, as odd as that may be. She hoped...she wasn't about to ruin it.

She knotted her hands in her lap as she asked, "Do you know what happened to me?"

Her father paused again, this time giving her a quizzical stare that twisted his brow.

"You...went off to college?" he asked, then set his cup down. "Why are you asking that? Did something happen? Are you okay?"

Interesting. She'd been wondering what kind of cover story, if any, they'd been deluded under. She'd never asked what Jareth had actually done to make them "forget her" and she'd asked. So she didn't quite know...how they knew her now.

"I...I'm alright," she tentatively said.

Her father let out a small exhale of relief.

"Good."

And, because she could already feel her resolve sputtering out, she ripped off the band-aid completely and leaned forward to rest her arms out on the table.

"Dad...I actually came here for a reason. I'm not quite sure how to do this, so...I'll just be blunt. This is a dream."

She locked eyes with him as she said that. Wondered, internally screamed, what would happen next. There was a noticeable silence at the table. It stretched for one unnatural second.

And then the lightbulb clicked. Just like that.

"It is?" her father asked, looking quite befuddled. Then he leaned back in his chair. "Huh. Go figure." Sarah stared in amazement as she watched him pull back his cup and sip from it with total nonchalance. "Must be why Karen isn't here. —Oh, did I say that out loud?"

He looked a little startled at the last bit. It was enough to make Sarah laugh.

"Heh. Yes. In here, your inner thoughts are kind of your outer thoughts," she explained. He nodded and accepted this new knowledge immediately.

"Oh…well that could get bad fast," he said with a kind of eek expression. "Don't ask me any questions about your aunt Shirley."

Sarah had to stifle another laugh. Yepp. Same old Dad.

"I won't," she said, then glanced away as her smile slowly faded. After a moment, she spoke again. "You know...it's kind of hard for me to tell if you're really you."

Her father shrugged.

"If I'm not, I wouldn't know."

"I...believe you're here. I hope so, anyway," she replied, then peered over at him again. "I...I miss you, Daddy."

He lowered the cup to the table and gave her a warm grin.

"I miss you too, darling."

That candid little quip sparked a look of alarm when tears suddenly built in her eyes.

"Huh? Why are you crying?" he asked, then reached across the table to grasp her hand. "Oh geez. If you were that homesick, maybe you should have come back sooner."

She felt the warmth of his hand on hers. Felt the pressure there. She felt it.

"But...I'm not back," she said, contrary tears having their way and trickling down her cheeks. "This is a dream, remember?"

"Right. But...does that really matter?"

Sarah glanced up with a pout. Her father started at her stern in the eye for a second, then cocked a brow.

"We're still together, aren't we? Can you not feel me squeezing you? Doesn't seem like any dream I've ever had."

He squeezed her hand tighter for emphasis. Sarah glanced down at it as she settled.

"I-I can. I can feel you—"

"Well? Quit your blubbering. Don't want this turning into a nightmare, right?"

She had to smile. Of course he would sound like he knew exactly what he was talking about. She nodded her head as she sniffled. Stupid hormones. She was just so happy.

When he saw she was okay, he let go of her hand and eased back in his seat.

"You said you're here for a reason?" he asked her. Sarah peered up to lock eyes with him. "What's going on, sweetheart?"

Oh, the tremble. Her nerves manifested as a shadow overhead. To the unsuspecting mind, it might have seemed like a harmless cloud. But Sarah knew better. She took a deep breath as she settled her mind.

"I...I have a lot to tell you," she said, then reopened her eyes. "I was hoping to see you and Karen together, but...I don't know if I can handle it."

"I don't blame you. Her subconscious scares me too."

He had expected her to burst out with a laugh again. When she didn't, he slumped in defeat and sighed. "Okay okay. Dad jokes are not appreciated. Tell me what's wrong."

His tone was a bit more serious. Sarah clenched her jaw as she debated how to do this.

"Well...firstly...I never went to college."

"What?" was his quick response. He looked shocked. "Then where the hell have you been?"

Regarding a familiar rise in his voice, Sarah felt herself begin to squirm.

"The thing is...I kind of met someone," she said with a wince. Oh God. This was going to get bad— "And I guess...you could say he swept me off my feet. It's been...a rollercoaster of a summer."

She resisted making eye contact while saying all that. Holy Hell, this was not something she ever expected to be discussing with him. She let herself stew, but when he did not immediately reprimand her, she could not help but glance up.

His expression was tight. A little annoyed maybe.

"I at least hope you were considerate enough to cancel my tuition check?"

Sarah rolled her eyes away.

"I doubt you ever sent one in," she grumbled, then rolled her eyes back. He was giving her that quirked brow look again. "Your suspension of disbelief is heightened in a dream. You just kind of accept reality as it is presented to you," she randomly explained. "I...haven't fully broken you out of it, because I don't want you to start freaking out." Her eyes lowered as his narrowed. "Because...the truth is...I'm not sure you even remember I exist in the real world."

Now he was starting to look bothered. Finally.

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked. Sarah shifted in her seat.

"Jareth...When I left home, I asked that he make it so you never miss me. I'm not sure...what he did to fulfill that."

"I take it Jareth is the man you ran away with?"

Oh. That tone. The one that spelled out stern father. She'd only heard it once or twice —regarding the dipshit jock she'd once dated. It was...very odd to hear in reference to Jareth.

"...yeah," she said, awkwardly, and looked away.

A second of silence passed. Filled with judgement, no doubt. He was still staring at her. She could feel it.

"He sounds foreign," her father said. Sarah's anxiety demanded she laugh.

"Heh. He is."

"Is he someone I get to meet?"

Sarah paused. She'd never thought about that.

"I don't know. Maybe? I'm not entirely sure I want you to meet him."

"Why?" he asked, eyes hardening all the more. "Will I want to kill him?"

"Probably."

That response was all but reflexive. Sarah sucked in her lips after uttering it. She fidgeted in her chair again and nibbled in her lip.

"Listen...whatever you remember of this when you wake up...I just want you to know that...I'm okay," she said, and calmly looked up at him. "It was rough for a while, and I almost gave up a couple of times, but...I'm okay now."

Of course, his look did not at all change.

"That's not something a father wants to hear," he said. Sarah cowered.

"I know...I'm sorry."

For whatever reason, perhaps by her distraction, trigger, or not, a little snap gave him more clarity. He glanced around the room briefly, then down at the hunched shoulders of his daughter.

"So...this is a dream? You're not actually here?"

And there he was. Sarah knew from tone alone that he was with her. That he could acknowledge her just as much as she him. For as happy this made her, she was also incredibly nervous.

"No," she said.

"Can you not come home?"

"No. Or...not yet."

"Why?"

"It's complicated."

"Has he hurt you?"

Sarah's hands, twisted between her knees, clenched tightly together as she writhed under his scrutiny.

"...yes.," she admitted, then dug in with her nails. "But...we're making amends."

He did not respond. And she knew entirely why. Even to her, this sounded bad. She saw the light turn to overcast beyond the window, and mustered all the courage she had left.

"Daddy— I know what you must be thinking, but...I want to be with him. I know it sounds...bad. I don't really want to sugar coat it —it's been really bad. But...it's what I want." and she looked over at him with desperation. "I miss you, and Karen and Toby. I...really wanted to see the three of you. But I...I don't think I'm strong enough to handle four dreams at once. I had to pick just one, and I wanted to tell you, to tell someone…"

The sob that was building on each word came to head as a little choke. She cut herself off, forcing back hot tears from her blurring vision. Her father saw this and frowned.

"Tell someone what?" he asked.

Sarah rolled her lip over her teeth. There was a pressure in her chest. It was sharp, like the crash of thunder that resounded from outside. If she didn't get it together, the dream would collapse. She needed to do this. She needed to stay here with him—

She closed her eyes as she resigned herself. It shouldn't be this hard. She was only doing it to herself.

When she opened her eyes again, it was in a look of pain.

"I'm...kind of...pregnant."

A flash of lighting flickered in her peripheral, but there was no thunder this time around. She stared straight ahead, hesitant to blink as she tried to interpret his returning expression.

He blinked at her. That's it.

"Excuse me?"

"It wasn't planned," she prattled on. "I'm...kind of freaking out about it. I haven't told Jareth yet, but...I just...I just…"

A hiccup was her undoing. Untethered what minimal restraint she had on her emotions. She started to cry. To shake. To let loose the composure she so direly needed to keep. The weather outside turned to tempest. She wondered how much longer this would all last.

Sarah's father stood from the chair, rounded the table, and knelt to the floor before pulling her into his arms.

"Come here…" he spoke softly, rubbing her back and letting her cry into his shoulder. He had a frown on his face. A look of disappointment not at all directed at her. "You really got yourself wrapped up in the thick of it, didn't you?" he asked. She could not speak, so nodded instead, her shoulders shaking in spite of herself. "Sh...you're okay. You'll be okay."

He held her for as long as she needed. Cherished every second of it. and she was astonished by how real it felt. How warm and comforting and full of love it was.

It was enough to gentle her. In his patience, she felt her emotions fade just as quickly as they'd surged. And the storm outside, all of the sudden, was nowhere to be found.

Her sobs turned to sniffles, turned to labored breaths and a silence filled with embarrassment. After another moment, her father pulled away from her, then pushed back the dampened hair from her face.

"This a lot to unload on your dad, you know. Suspension of disbelief or not."

He was smiling at her. Sarah's lip quivered all over again.

"I know. I'm sorry—"

"Why are you apologizing?" he said, shaking his head as his smile only grew. "Don't apologize to me. Whatever's been going on...I should have been there for you. I'm the one who should apologize."

His eyes swept over her, passed through her in a sense. He reached doubt and tucked her hair behind her ear as a memory came back to him.

"You know...I got your mother pregnant when we were still in highschool," he said. Sarah's brow furrowed. "We didn't tell you this, but your grandparents wanted Linda to put you up for adoption. They were afraid you would ruin her future." And then one brow quirked. "—In case you ever wondered where she got that attitude from… Still, she wanted you. She wanted to be a family. So we ran off and found a pastor who would marry us. You were five by the time your grandparents agreed to even meet you." His smile turned humble. Turned sad. Sarah stared silently, hanging on every word. "I guess what I'm saying is...I'm the last person to judge. At least you held out longer than we did." He laughed in spite of it all, then put a hand to either side of her head. "I know you're scared. And you should be. But I'm here now. Dream or reality? Whatever. I'll always be here."

The clenching of Sarah's jaw became so tight, she thought her teeth might shatter. And yet, a feeling of such profound relief flourished within. Maybe this was what she'd been needing. To be vindicated. To be welcomed. She couldn't believe how happy she was. For the first time in a week, she did not feel afraid.

"Thank you, Daddy…" she said, and hugged him tightly.

"And one more thing," he said, pulling away just a tad. When her eyes caught his, she saw he was happy. A smile twitched one corner of his mouth as he said, "Congratulations."

---

Sarah awoke to a feeling of great ease. The air itself felt lighter, revealing —only by its absence— a weight she hadn't realized she was still carrying.

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the canopy overlooking her bed. It'd only been a handful of hours, but time spent in her dream made it feel far longer. She'd had an entire day to reconnect with her father, to distract herself and remind herself and enjoy herself. And...it felt real. Laying there, being awake, being back in the real world, she couldn't believe how similar it all was.

She smiled as she blinked leisurely at nothing. She was only a human, but she'd been able to master a dreamscape that well all on her own. There were a couple bumps, sure, but no catastrophe. She was admittedly impressed.

All thanks to Jareth's training, a little voice mumbled.

Her brow drew together and she lifted the crystal to her mouth, giving it a half-kiss as she sat herself up. Yeah...Jareth. Speaking of…

She turned and looked to the side. His side. Unsurprisingly, it was vacant. What did surprise her, however, was that the blankets were still neatly made.

Her knitted brow gained a set of pursed lips as she blinked at the empty spot on her bed.

Did he...not come back? At all?

She'd kind of assumed his whole late night of work was a load of BS, but wasn't about to probe him about it. Still, was it naïve of her to have also assumed he would come back eventually? They hadn't spent a night in separate rooms in a while now...while she appreciated the consideration, she didn't like the feeling it left her with.

She wondered where he was. What time it was. Maybe he was still sleeping? In his own room? Maybe she could sneak in and join him…

She looked up on reflex at the sound of the door inching open. She got her hopes up (nerves?) for a split second, and then saw it was Marie.

The nymph paused, shot her brow up, and then closed the door behind herself.

"Oh. You're already up? I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

Sarah gripped the crystal in hand and shifted towards the edge of the bed.

"No. I woke up a few minutes ago. Why? What time is it?"

"Nearing nine-thirty," Mariella replied. Sarah stretched her neck then stood from the bed, giving her crystal and all the memories it now possessed one more, longing look before setting it down on her vanity. Mariella noticed this action, but said nothing.

"Oh. I thought it'd be a lot earlier. Don't I have to get ready to go to Yore?" Sarah asked.

"Yes. But there is still plenty of time. His Majesty insisted you be well-rested."

Sarah's ear twitched in reaction to that. Her head turned towards Marie just a fraction.

"He did?" she asked. Mariella's head tilted.

"Yes. As he always does."

She spoke plainly, curious about the little wrinkle in Sarah's brow. Like she was distracted. She wanted to ask, but…maybe after breakfast.

Sarah ran a hand through her hair and walked around the end of her bed. The morning light brightened the place up considerably compared to how she'd found it last night. It felt familiar again.

"So...did he tell you to help me get ready or something?" she asked. Mariella nodded.

"Yes. Well, not him personally. I rarely receive orders directly from His Majesty. He always sends one of the goblins."

"Oh."

"Mhm. Today, it is my job to keep you prepared. Firstly, I am to make sure you are fed and appropriately dressed."

Sarah, on her way to the washroom, paused and glanced back with a grin.

"So, not any different from any other day?" she asked with a huff. Mariella grinned in kind.

"Fair enough," Marie replied, turning her back as she walked towards the dining area of the room. "Are you going to bathe now? Shall I send for some breakfast? I know you think me a pest, but it really is in your best interest—"

Sarah took a second to think that one over, but, shockingly, her immediate reaction was not to vomit.

"Um...yeah," she answered, confusion laden in those words. Mariella's quick glance back reflected the emotion. She saw just as Sarah's hand lowered from her stomach. Then she even went so far as to smile when she looked over and said, "I'm actually...kinda starving."

Marie was so happy she actually clapped.

"That's great!" she said, so excitedly. "Has your stomach finally settled then? Perhaps it was merely all the traveling that jumbled it up."

"Yeah...maybe," Sarah replied skeptically. She didn't think one calm morning was enough to write off all of morning sickness (especially when it had yet to really start), but, she supposed, she'd give Marie the victory.

She left to wash herself up after that, trying not to think too much about the fact that, despite being in such an awkward place, Jareth was still making conscious considerations towards her. Did he tell Marie not to wake me up so I could be fully rested for the day ahead? Or was it...so my dream wouldn't be interrupted? ...Both?

She returned to the sight of an entirely unnecessary smorgasbord of culinary treats. Apparently, Mariella thought this an occasion to make up for lost calories. As Sarah sat down at the table, she realized her stomach may not have been as fortified as she'd thought.

She made her plate with simple eggs and toast to start.

"So...you're looking kind of fancy today," Sarah said, eyeing the embroidered, silk gown Mariella wore. It had more pattern than she usually wore, with extra bits of trimming around the neckline and sleeves. She was even wearing her favorite pearl earrings —which Sarah had been told were only for special outings.

Mariella grinned and sat prettily in her seat.

"Why thank you. That was entirely what I was going for."

She went back to eating just like that. Sarah stared at her expectantly.

"Is there a reason…?"

Did she have a date? Was she going out on the town on her day off? Mariella patted her lips with her napkin before replying.

"Of course. Why would you ask such a question? We're going to a formal tea between Orpian monarchs. It would be a disgrace for me to wear my usual attire."

Sarah's brow twisted very tightly.

"What? You're coming to Yore?"

Mariella paused. Now she looked confused too.

"Ah...yes?"

They stared at each other like a couple of idiots, then Sarah scowled.

"But...I thought it was just Jareth and I? Didn't you say that you would be staying behind?" she asked.

"Oh. Yes. Those were the circumstances. But...this morning His Majesty informed me that I am to accompany you in your meeting. I just assumed that request originated with you."

Sarah eased back in her seat.

"Um...Don't take this the wrong way, but no. I didn't say anything. I thought being on my own was more stupid etiquette rules, so I didn't bother," she explained, only becoming more puzzled with the way Mariella grinned widely.

"Oh. I see. Well, isn't His Majesty just so sweet."

"Excuse me?"

"I told you, I am to keep you prepared today. His Majesty asked that I support you should you need it. It's your first time outside the Goblin Kingdom, after all. He must be worried for you."

Sarah's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Uh huh. Sounds more like he thinks I need a babysitter, so I don't mess up and embarrass myself."

Mariella bobbed her head.

"Well...yes, I suppose that is probably true as well. But why be so cynical? His Majesty will not be allowed to share confidence with Queen Delphine, so you really would be on your own. Is that what you want?"

Sarah arched a brow and pouted.

"Not really, no. When you lay it out so plainly...I guess it is kind of nerve wracking."

"See?" Mariella replied with a canny little shrug. "Was it not considerate of him to think of your comfort first?"

Sarah continued to pout. Or, at least, she wanted to. But the effort was half-assed and she gave up quickly. Her feelings on the man in question were kind of haywire right now.

"Fine. You win," she said, leaning forward and begrudgingly resuming her meal. "It was very kind of him to take initiative and invite you himself. I am very glad you get to come."

Mariella stifled a laugh as she watched her.

"Good," she said, then bit on her tongue. "Now, say it like you mean it."

---

True to word, Sarah found herself primped and preened, and suitably painted —and all in time for a leisurely departure. It was quarter after twelve when they finally left her room. They were scheduled to be greeted in Yore at twelve-thirty. This, for obvious reasons, prompted one very important inquiry.

"So, um...how are we getting there?" Sarah asked, walking alongside Mariella down the hall. Mariella pressed an index finger to her lips and glanced to the ceiling.

"You know, I'm not quite sure. Probably a roth d'or."

Sarah's expression became as deadpan as deadpan could ever be.

"A wha?"

But, before a reply could be formed, the curve of the hall let out to reveal the final member of their party. He was standing in profile up ahead, looking down as he spoke to one of his council advisors —an elder goblin named Kelkrin. Sarah felt herself seize up at the sight of him, feeling a little nervous as well as...excited? She kind of wanted to talk to him about her dream last night —as well as that one, other, obvious thing.

He looked up with a rather stern countenance, and arched a sharp brow their way.

"Ah, and here you are. I was starting to think I needed to fetch you myself," he said, handing whatever legislation he'd been discussing back to Kelkrin and subsequently forgetting his existence entirely. The Goblin, not at all phased, bowed to him, then to Sarah, and promptly left.

Sarah's eyes darted away and back again.

"Oh..ah...are we going to be late?"

Damn, she was nervous —for the first time ever, actually regretting having Mariella as a shield. There were many unspoken words hovering between them. Or...in her head, anyway.

Would he even want to know how her dream went?

Jareth, with an expression already hardened by a morning of annoyances, analyzed her minor expression of tension with discernable scrutiny. He placed a hand on his hip, and then looked away.

"No," he said, flatly. "But we're cutting it close. Braxton is very critical of punctuality," and then an inherent glare formed in his side-cast eyes. "I'd rather not have to hear about it."

She looked back at him when he turned around, and in that brief moment she took in his appearance. He, too, was dressed a touch more formally than usual. He wore a royal blue frock coat, encrusted with jewels the color of his eyes. Draping from his chest to over his right shoulder were a tangle of pale yellow ropes and cords of varying thickness. She'd glimpsed that his waistcoat had matching embellishments, and he wore his gold pendant prominently over his chest. Seeing him look so trim and official had her second guessing her own appearance. Although...Mariella had said she looked fine.

"Come on," Jareth said, urging them along. "We still have a ways to walk."

Sarah followed along quietly, not quite at his side. He seemed in kind of a bad mood today. She was hesitant to ask why.

After a few minutes, he brought them to a door. Sarah had a very vague recollection of it from their tour all those weeks ago, but, then again, most of the doors looked the same.

Jareth opened it and gestured for them to precede him.

The room was dark. That was the first thing she'd noticed. The second was its vastness. Perhaps not in the horizontal plane, but certainly vertical. She could hear the echo of her and Marie's steps as they entered, and looked up to gauge a very impossibly high ceiling. It had a dome vault, but it was too dark to make out anything more. As she waited for Jareth to join them, she found herself orienting their location and…

Did physics really mean nothing here?

She just shook her head. They were towards the centermost part of the castle. The height of this room should have intersected several other floors and passageways.

The moment Jareth closed the door, a perimeter of lights flared to life around them. It didn't do a whole lot to help her weak human eyes, but it was enough.

The room was in the shape of an octagon. Each face displaying a door. Sarah, standing idly in the middle of the room, slowly turned full circle as she mused.

"Ah, so I was right. It's a roth d'or," Mariella mumbled. Sarah turned quickly and caught her gaze. "Lord Davion has one as well," she explained. "He would use it whenever he felt like...dropping in on someone else's festivity."

Sarah arched a brow.

"You mean party crashing, yeah?" she asked, rhetorically, and then turned to face Jareth just as he came to stand at her side. "So uh...I guess I know the name. But, what exactly is this place? I don't remember it."

"It's a very convenient bit of magic," Jareth replied, half-distracted, as he reached into his pocket to fish something out. Sarah stared at him for a prolonged second, waiting for him to elaborate. He didn't.

"Annnddd it's going to help us get to Yore in the next five minutes, how?"

Seriously. These people and their right questions.

"These doors —how many of them are there?" he asked. Sarah glanced around.

"Eight."

"Do you have any idea where they might go?"

He spoke plainly, but Sarah was well-versed in the nuances of a patronizing Jareth. She crossed her arms and pursed her lips in the darkness.

"Gee, I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

Jareth paused and glanced down, catching her side-eye and all its attitude in perfect clarity. He was a little surprised, to be honest. Apparently, he'd offended her.

"They lead to each of the Orpian realms," he said, minding his tone. "Specifically, their capitals."

Sarah looked away from him and back at the doors.

"Oh? Well that's incredibly convenient. I thought you needed a whole bunch of lipsgates to travel that far?"

"Lipsgates are for the public," Jareth corrected, then cocked a little grin. "Roth d'ors are just for us."

Sarah's eyes narrowed on him under the cover of shadow.

"Okay...then why didn't we use one to get to Sulu?"

"Because, unlike the derivative linking here to Fyrn, roth d'ors are all connected to one another. In order for passage to work, both an entrance and an exit must be opened. On that note, ownership of a roth d'or is only permitted to members of an Orpian royal family. Eines, sadly —for Roldan and his hatred of pedestrian travel— does not possess one."

Sarah pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth as she mulled that over.

"Oh. That's...a very strange and specific rule. Why?"

Jareth's reply was preceded by a shrug.

"Privilege is as privilege does," he said. Sarah huffed. He walked away from her then, fiddling with whatever was in his pocket as he approached one of the doors. Sarah and Marie curiously followed.

"So, all you kings and queens have backdoor wormholes into each other's houses?" Sarah asked. "I didn't think you were that close."

Jareth, standing with his back to her, cracked a grin in response to her sarcasm.

"We're not. Such things were constructed well before my time, or any of my affiliates, I assure you," he said, focusing his attention on the door as if tracing something through the fibers. Sarah observed attentively. "They were intended for emergency purposes, rather than pure convenience. If something ever happened, it would be very fortuitous to escape hundreds of thousands of miles to the safety of your neighbor, yes?"

He sounded a little absent minded, doing whatever it was he did, as he reached out to the door and ignited its magic.

"Hmph. Is fear of rebellion really that strong among your people?" Sarah asked. Jareth, about to press whatever was in his hand against the door, paused as he turned to look at her.

They crossed gazes. Sarah's deriding smirk falling flat when she saw how serious his expression was.

"Rebellion? No. But fear? Absolutely." He left her to gape and turned his attention back to the door. The object in his hand was a seal. When he finally pressed it to the door, a glowing hot image of the sigil of Yore was left to burn into the wood.

"Surely you've heard?" he continued. Sarah looked away from the door and blinked back to attention. "Dark times ruled these lands once. To live was to die. To kill or be killed."

He placed the seal back into his pocket and turned towards her, leaving the magic to do its work in the background. Little veins of light spidered outward through the grain in the wood. It was hard not to become mesmerized by it. Thankfully, Jareth was there to keep her from falling into any manner of daze.

"I see your righteous lens painting your perceptions over my history," he continued. "—but let me clarify— it wasn't a matter so simple as lords persecuting their people, nor the oppressed masses rising to take back what was theirs. Sometimes, it was merely the weather." He smirked as he said that, and, from the little twist in her lips, he knew she was getting annoyed. His smirk etched higher. "Other times, a scourge, or a beast. A madness or infection. Many kinds of evil plagued this realm, the least of which were politics." He knew she had nothing to say to that —her glare providing plenty of dialogue already. He looked away from her and took a step back. The door was nearly open. The creases around the frame fading into a natural form of light.

"Chaos begets chaos," Jareth said. "—such was the way of the world for a long time. My people's efforts to tame that wildness were largely...futile. Yes, the aristocratic class kept the means of escaping that violence for themselves and took refuge with one another, which is something I'm sure you will gripe about, but...no one was above the fear."

Sarah listened in silence, pursing her lips tighter at the way he'd just undermined her counter argument. She supposed she should thank Mariella then, who offered a reply instead.

"That is very well put, Your Majesty," she said. Sarah angled back and quirked a brow. "I consider myself very lucky to live after the reign of King Orpus. In a time when devices such as these are no longer dire, but instead regarded as mere trinkets," she explained. Sarah almost grumbled, finding it increasingly difficult to remain obstinate.

"Agreed," Jareth said —a comment which, to Sarah, came totally out of left field. Her head shot over at him in a look of surprise, but he'd already dismissed it. He stepped forward and opened the door, blinding her with light which she instinctively recoiled against. He stood there for a moment, just watching her squirm. When her eyes adjusted, she lowered her arm away from her face and looked up at him for a cue.

Despite his brusque tone, an amused little grin painted him in perfect cheer.

"Well?" he asked, then gestured over the threshold. "After you."

---

The room they entered was an exact reflection of the one they'd just left —albeit, with better lighting. As Sarah took a few steps forward, she found herself inching close to Marie's side. There was a man waiting for them —sitting in a chair in the center of the room. It was not anyone she recognized, obviously, which was why she felt a sudden rise of nerves when they inadvertently made eye contact. Realizing that may have been her first faux pas, she quickly looked back for Jareth just as he reached out and laced her arm with his.

"Remember your manners," he whispered with a slanted gaze. Sarah gritted her teeth. That look let her know he would not baby her right now. The training wheels were off, and she was the one in charge. Damn. This was already more nerve wracking than expected, and they'd just walked in the door.

Steeling herself, she looked back to the stranger and took a step forward.

The man, previously sitting with his legs leisurely crossed and his hands folded in his lap, stood to his feet by her cue. He was dressed rather stiffly, the embroidered design on his waistcoat a more ornate version of the sigil of Yore.

"Your Majesties, greetings," he said, and bowed low to the ground. Mariella fell in line behind her. "My name is Sebastian, a chamberlain to His Majesty. It is my honor to welcome you here, in our fair kingdom of Yore."

He straightened, but a hand remained pressed to his chest, and Sarah noticed the way he now kept his eyes seared to the floor. She wondered if it had anything to do with her accidental glance a moment ago.

"A pleasure Sebastian," Sarah replied, with a practiced kind of grace that she had never exuded before. "We thank Their Majesties for their hospitality. It's an honor to be here."

A little smile flashed across the chamberlain's face, and then he turned and gestured at the open door behind him.

"Please, allow me to escort you. His Majesty is expecting you fervidly."

Sarah nodded in a manner that she defined as regal, and watched as the man promptly turned away from them. A tug on the arm brought Jareth along with her, all the while leaving her to wonder why Braxton felt fervid.

They exited the roth d'or and entered a very brightly lit hall. It was made of a pale, near-white sandstone, which reflected the natural light beaming in from the many floor to ceiling windows that lined the left wall. The ceilings were unnecessarily high, similar to the castle beyond the goblin city. The architectural style was different. Highly embellished. Sarah vaguely mused that the term for it might be baroque.

Trying her damnedest to keep her eyes straight ahead and not gawk like a tourist, Sarah squeezed onto Jareth's arm tighter as the sound of their footsteps clicking against marble began to layer in her ears.

There were people there. Aristocrats. Courtiers. They were loitering in the halls and chatting behind handheld fans. She knew, in her head, that this was normal. But...she'd gotten so used to the solitude of the castle, that the harmless gazes of curious onlookers only added to her anxiety. Of course, realizing who they were (or at least who Jareth was) they all fell into bows as they passed. Sarah carried herself proudly all the while. If she had faltered and glanced up at Jareth, she would have seen him grinning.

"I am told this is your first time in the kingdom of Yore, Your Majesty," Sebastian said, gesturing with his hand but not looking back at her. Sarah wasn't sure if engaging in small talk was really to her benefit.

"Yes. It is. I am very excited to be here. I've heard such wonderful things."

Had she? Oh geez. Right off a cue card, that line had come. What did she really know about this country? That Jareth and Braxton were friends? That Aurelia was once the duchess of a province somewhere within? Her lessons with Roldan had been a litany of historical facts, but provided no real insight. Hm...maybe she should have studied on the way back from Sulu.

As a friendly helping hand might say, too late now.

"Your Majesty speaks very kindly. We have also heard wonderful things. No doubt, the kinship between our nations will only be fostered by your reign."

Sarah pursed her lips. That line felt a little...hackneyed, his tone falling flatter with every word. Her first instinct was to take offense with his dubious sincerity, but...maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe this was just court etiquette at work.

Sarah was still busy mulling this over when a sudden, highly fervid voice resonated at them from down the hall.

"Well, look at that. They're here!"

Sarah drew back to attention and peered passed Sebastian. There was a very well dressed fellow standing, amidst a cluster of people, in the middle of the hall a ways ahead. And, from his ruffled brown hair and warm, boyish grin, she knew that man was Braxton.

He was so excited, he practically pushed his affiliates out of the way and walked —with a little pep in his step— briskly towards them.

"Annnd that would be His Majesty," Sebastian said, with just a hint of a grumble. Sarah eyed him as he lowered his head and took a step to the side.

The King of Yore, with what was undoubtedly the most sincere of grins, came to stand before her and bowed low in deference.

"My Queen, it is a great pleasure to see you again," he said and promptly straightened. "And, if I may be so told to presume, to be the first of the Council to refer to you as such." His head inclined and a single brow quirked as he said that. Sarah stiffened. He was staring at her very boldly, but seemed to be keeping his eyes on her nose. Sarah did her best to do the same.

She smiled in return when she spoke.

"Yes, I believe you may be right. It is a pleasure to see you as well, Your Majesty."

Braxton, still visibly excited for some reason, tilted his head as he regarded her.

"You're lovelier than I remember," he said, frankly. "A fine choice indeed. Unexpected, but fine."

Sarah paused, a little tick threatening to break through her composure. She could tell by his tone that he was speaking through her to Jareth. She did her best to play off her annoyance as candidly as possible.

"Did you doubt Jareth's tastes?" she asked, shrewdly peering up at the man in question. Braxton chuckled and arched another brow.

"Doubt? No, My Queen. Rather, what I doubted was that he had any taste at all." and he glanced over at Jareth. "I was starting to think he would never settle down. I'm immensely relieved." and his gaze slanted back to Sarah. "I do have a great admiration for humans, after all —especially those bred in the Above."

Sarah's hand tensed on Jareth's forearm. This dude was staring at her so intently. She was definitely going to fuck up.

"Oh?" she replied.

"Indeed. My mother was born in the Above. It's where I got my second name. Do you have one as well?"

Sarah blinked with a tight brow, her mind going completely blank and then hurrying to catch up. Second name? Oh. Surname. He meant surname.

"Yes. It's Williams. My full name is Sarah Williams. Well, Sarah Anne Williams."

"You have three names?" Braxton asked, his brow rising quite high. Sarah didn't quite get why he was so chipper.

"Um...yes?"

"Is that considered normal?"

"...yes?"

A very peculiar intensity settled in his eyes. She could not meet them directly, of course, but she could feel it. After a moment, he hummed, then pressed a knuckle to his mouth as he glanced at the floor.

"Hm, that's very interesting...I'll take that under advisement."

Advisement? Huh? Her arm tightened around Jareth's a little more. Out of all the monarchs she'd met at her engagement ball, Braxton had been the least intimidating. His demeanor now, however, was throwing her for a bit of a loop.

"...glad I could be of help," she said, staring at him very oddly as he mused over something that seemed to be very important to him. All the while, she was trying to think of a way of cueing Jareth in before her awkwardness became too apparent.

"Yes, truly. I sometimes forget just how long it's been since I've visited the Above. It's amazing how quickly things change there," he said, then looked at her with another warm smile. "It's such a thrilling place, isn't it? I've always cherished that side of my ancestry. It's also the birth home of my wife. Her stories of that place delight me even still, as I'm sure yours delight Jareth."

Sarah glanced up at Jareth as if on cue. Their eyes met briefly and...oh damn. The awkwardness was sure to win.

"Absolutely…" Sarah replied, forcing a smile and looking away from Jareth. "—speaking of your wife, I believe congratulations are in order? I hear you've welcomed your first child. A boy?"

She watched him actually become taller, his reaction was so visceral. Braxton smiled very widely, the expression one of utter joy.

"Yes. You hear correctly. Thank you," he said. "I am very proud to finally have a son." and then his excitement lulled —just a tad. "It certainly took long enough."

Sarah paused. That was...weird. That was a weird tone just now, right? His smile remained, but his eyes were suddenly void. Sarah glanced to the side to mask how uncomfortable she just became.

"Well...nonetheless, I'm very happy for you."

His smile renewed. Like it'd never faltered. Sarah's brow was tightening in more disconcertion when a group of ladies entered the hall a short distance in front of her. Sebastian twitched back to attention and glanced to the right.

"Her Majesty approaches," he said, and then went back to idling. Braxton turned around in reflex, giving Sarah the opportunity to scope out Her Majesty.

There was a group of five women, the one leading them in the center being both the tallest and the best dressed. She had long, blonde hair curled in sleek waves. She carried herself in perfect posture, seemingly to glide across the floor. Her face was long and her features sharp, amplifying a very cold intensity in her stare. Sarah stood a little straighter as they approached. She recognized from her lessons that this was not Delphine.

"Ah, what timing. Ana, come hither," Braxton said, waving the woman over. The gesture was candid, perhaps even insulting by the way she turned, curtly, and shot him a glare. She and her entourage paused to analyze the scene. After raking her eyes up and down Sarah's front, the woman seemed to sigh to herself before changing course and joining Braxton at his side.

She stood very stiffly with her hands folded in front of her. Braxton, either not attuned, or not phased by her icy aura, just kept on grinning.

"Your Majesty, allow me to introduce my wife, Queen Anathaea," Braxton said, then bowed very low to her. Sarah felt a tiny rise of panic. The woman, Anathaea, was staring at her. Really staring at her. Her eyes were a pale blue. And they were bored, and tired, and possibly annoyed. Sarah, minding her manners, made sure to hold onto that stare with as much confidence as possible, before bowing to her as well. Jareth mimicked her in silence.

"An honor, Your Majesty," Sarah said. Anathaea did not reply right away, though she did bow in return.

"Likewise, Your Grace." And then they all straightened. "Welcome to our home. I hope you take the greatest pleasure here." There was a definite hollowness to her words. Sarah wasn't exactly anticipating a genuine welcome, but that level of disregard was surprising. Sarah watched the fae woman blink slowly before continuing. "I must also ask your forgiveness. I was unable to attend your wedding celebration."

"Oh. No apology is necessary, Your Majesty," Sarah replied. Anathaea's stony gaze moved down and up. Sarah could only wonder what she was thinking.

"You are to meet with Delphine, yes?" she asked.

"Ah...yes."

"Hm...you are also a human?" They locked eyes. Sarah failed to immediately respond. Anathaea sighed. "...I suppose it is just as well," she said and rolled her eyes to the side. Sarah felt a scowl forming. "I extend my greetings to your husband. It is nice to see His Majesty again."

She kept her eyes to the side as she said that, like she could not have meant those words any less. Sarah glanced up at Jareth, concerned she might need his help with this one.

"How kind. Won't you extend your greetings in return, Jareth?" she asked him.

She locked eyes with him again, but now his façade was perfectly steeled. She couldn't gauge him, which did absolutely nothing to help her nerves. He looked away from her quickly, then closed his eyes as he bowed to Anathaea one more time.

"It is a pleasure to see you as well, Ana."

Jareth straightened, but Sarah's attention was still on him. Anathaea glanced back to observe this, trying not to sigh again at the mere sight of them.

"I must apologize again, Your Grace," Ana said. Sarah looked over. "I have a prior engagement I'm about to be late for. If you'll excuse me, I hope you enjoy your time in our kingdom." And then she bowed. "...and with her."

Sarah frowned at the return of that weird feeling. That..ulterior tone. She tried not to let it bother her, and bowed in response. Without another word, The fae queen turned and left. Sarah eyed her worriedly as she rejoined her ladies at the end of the hall. All was quiet for a moment, and then Braxton spoke up.

"I see you're frowning," he said. Sarah peered over sharply. "That is expected." He was grinning at her. Sarah blanched. "My wife can be a little...surly at times," he went on, totally unphased. "T'is simply her nature. Although...I do suspect it has worsened in recent months."

He pursed his lips in a look of thought and averted his eyes. Sarah tried her best to come off equally nonchalant.

"Oh. No offense was taken, I assure you," she said.

"Good. Motherhood has put a great deal of stress on her. I'd hate for you to take it personally."

Sarah's brow furrowed very tightly.

"Ah...was it not Queen Delphine who gave birth?" she asked. Braxton placed a hand on his hip and nodded.

"Yes. Indeed she is. But, we are all family."

Sarah really hoped her expression wasn't as insulting as she thought it was.

"Right…"

And he suddenly glanced down at his watch

"Oh, look at that. I've taken up so much time," he said with a self-deprecating smile. "How shameful. I've left my poor darling to wait on you ever longer. Please, let me escort you to her."

Sarah, still recovering from...everything...turned with Jareth on her heel as Braxton took a step past her.

"Okay…"

She and Jareth walked closely behind Braxton, silent, perhaps perturbed. Sarah had no idea what Jareth's demeanor was really, he'd only spoken once since they'd arrived. And Marie —oh shit, Marie was here too. She'd been like a ghost, along with Sebastian, this entire time. Sarah tried her best not to cling to Jareth any more than she already was.

"My wife was very excited to hear you are a bride of conquest," Braxton said from over his shoulder. "She's known no other Abovegroundian in her time in the Underground. To see her smile with such mirth is a vision I cherish. I hope you will become the closest of friends, visit often, and bring out that smile for me."

Such fond words for his wife helped settle her butterflies. Sarah smiled weakly at the back of his head.

"I'll do my best, Your Majesty."

In no time at all, he brought them to a door, then stopped and turned to face them before opening it.

"I've asked her to meet you in her botanical garden. It is a perfect place to receive guests," he said, then inclined his head towards her. "I had it designed just for her. The flowers suit her beautifully." And then he turned and gazed longingly through the door. "...you'll see."

Sarah drew back very slowly. What the hell was that expression?

Intuition was creeping and crawling all over her as he opened the door and ushered them in. Immediately, Sarah was hit with a distinct change in humidity, accompanied by the overwhelming scent of flowers. She actually felt her sinuses flare in response. Even in the Queen's garden, the smell was not so strong. Maybe because this was an enclosed space, she wondered. Or maybe because...it was a freaking jungle.

A path of cobblestones guided them through the room. Braxton walked leisurely, following all its twists and turns like they were the back of his hand. Sarah glanced around to take in as much as she could. The greenery was so dense, it was impossible to tell the scale of the room. There were no walls, only brush. And there was no ceiling, either, only canopy and a bright, blinding light. She could hear the twitter of birds and the babble of water from somewhere close. Indeed, the flowers were a lovely sight. But even all of that paled in comparison to what was revealed at the center of the garden.

There was a small glade, just big enough to fit two benches and a table. They were glazed white, and made of metalwork in an ornate, floral design. The ground below them consisted of grey flagstone, shaped into a circle, which filled the entirety of the space. Sarah felt her steps slowing to a near halt as she stared. On one of the benches, sitting directly in front of her, was a woman who Sarah, honestly, did not even believe was real.

She was a very pale beauty, with skin so white it looked like it'd never seen the sun. Her hair contrasted as a rich black, long, and falling in tight natural curls. Her gown was sky blue, and possessed a fine silken sheen. The bodice was highly decorated, with pinned, pink, silk flowers and cream frill. She wore a traditional hoop skirt, the boning forcing the heavy layers of fabric overtop it to billow around her and conceal the bench entirely. A cape with a velvet, maroon interior encased her silhouette, but what truly stood out was the delicate, standing neck ruff that was more ostentatious than any Elizabethan painting she'd ever seen. It was a white gossamer, with spines that ended in carvings of little stars fanning above her head. It did more than halo her. It framed her. Kept her trussed and fixed into that very picturesque position.

The woman sat quietly and rigidly, and Sarah could only assume it was because it was impossible to do anything else. She couldn't imagine how one would move in all that. How the hell she'd even managed to make it through the ferns and the trees in the first place.

She was surprised to feel Jareth tug her forward. She looked up, her expression without a shred of self-awareness. She actually recoiled to find him glaring at her, silently, from the corner of his eye. Remember your manners, he was telling her. She looked away from him with a very tight countenance.

A fit of excitement put a pep in Braxton's step as his eyes fell over his wife. Sarah watched as a look of pure adoration swept over his face before the man dropped, readily, to his knees at her side.

She reached out and he took her hand, staring up with stars in his eyes as he kissed the backs of her fingers.

"My darling, your guests are here," he said to her, speaking softly. Sarah watched as the woman, the purest definition of demure, smiled kindly and slowly lifted her hand to touch his face.

"And you've brought them yourself? You are so kind, my love."

Her smile, though slight, still reached her eyes. He smiled even wider now, then took back her hand and kissed it again. Sarah noticed, immediately, that she had a very heavy foreign accent. She was caught up pondering it when Braxton turned and called back to her.

"Your Majesty, please, come and meet my wife."

Sarah gulped. She was incredibly nervous, but not of Delphine. No, her aura was welcoming and kind. What put her off to the point of physical hesitation was this entire scene. These flowers. That dress. That shamelessly dreamy look on Braxton's face.

Jareth, in a subtle show of impatience, nudged her forward with his elbow.

Braxton remained kneeling on the ground as Sarah came to stand before them. She looked from him, to Delphine, and felt her jaw clench when they made eye contact.

She had a scatter of artfully placed moles and beauty marks about her face. And her eyes, large and round, were nearly as dark as her hair. Those eyes wilted as her smile stretched, a look of relief Sarah thought, just before she said,

"Queen Sarah, I'm so happy to finally meet you."

Sarah rolled her lower lip. Was it...rude to stare?

"And you as well, Your Majesty," she replied and bowed. Delphine's eyes lowered with Sarah. She could not manage to bow herself, but she dipped as best as she could.

"Please, call me Delphine. There is no need for formality here," she said as Sarah straightened. "And a pleasure to see His Majesty again as well."

Sarah glanced up to Jareth, who politely nodded his head and bowed.

"It seems Her Majesty has brought her maid. Does that please you?" Braxton asked. Sarah found the phrasing of that question odd. For a moment, she wondered if Mariella would be told to leave—

"Of course. I welcome all as new friends."

Delphine smiled sweetly and so did Braxton. It was like he was love sick. In awe. It was a complete 180 from how he regarded Anathaea. Sarah was starting to feel...really freaking confused.

"Then I shall take my leave," he said, and leaned up to cup her jaw and kiss her. Sarah had to look away. That was definitely not a polite, platonic kind of smooch. Delphine smiled after him as he stood and took a step towards Jareth. A firm hand clasped her husband by the shoulder as he said, "Come. Leave the ladies to their tea. We are not needed here."

He released Jareth's shoulder and walked away. Sarah, for numerous reasons, was tentative to do the same.

With that said, she could feel her arm slipping out of his. She avoided making eye contact with him. Doing so would only cement her nerves. By her signal, uncertain as it was, Jareth stepped away, sparing a stern glance at Marie, who nodded in silence.

And then he left, just like that. Bye bye, training wheels.

"Please, Your Majesty, have a seat," Delphine said, calling over Sarah's attention and gesturing to the neighboring bench next to them. "Your maid is welcome to join and may, of course, speak freely as well."

Sarah glanced down at the bench, and then grasped it by the railing as she carefully sat herself down.

"Thank you...you can call me Sarah," she said, and then gestured to Marie just as she took the seat beside her. "And...this is Mariella."

Finally acknowledged, Mariella bent forward with her hands turned palm up.

"An honor to sit with you, Your Grace," she said.

Delphine's stare hovered between the two of them, and then she smiled.

"Would you like some tea?"

Sarah peered up and inadvertently locked eyes with her. She felt so freaking unprepared —but Delphine, on the other hand, looked...dreamy?

"Ah—sure," Sarah replied.

There was a silver platter on the table seated between them; atop it, a teapot and matching cups. Her instinct was to pour a drink herself, but she resisted. A servant of some kind would probably spawn forth and cater to them, she thought, and so sat prettily with her hands in her lap. That posture faltered when Delphine broke convention and took the task upon herself.

She bent forward. Or...she tried her best, at least. The ornamentation on her gown made even that slight shift noticeably difficult. The fabric crinkled, and the bones in the binding made little pops. Sarah frowned as she watched her reach out for the teapot, watched her torso stop and her fingers strain to pull themselves forward that extra inch. Sarah was about to intervene and help the poor woman but...didn't want to insult her.

Without losing any stride, Delphine reached both the pot and the cups successfully, and began to prepare all three.

"Congratulations, by the way," Sarah said, needing to break through the awkwardness. "—on the birth of your son. I hope...the delivery went well?"

A large smile lit up Delphine's face as she placed two of the cups back on the tray and pushed it closer to them.

"Ah, thank you. Yes. I suppose it went smoothly," she said, and let out a long exhale when she finally straightened back into place. "—If you can consider thirty-six hours of labor to be smooth."

She raised the back of her hand to cover a little laugh that came out of her mouth, and Sarah was surprised to regard her joyful expression as genuine. Everything about her looked artificial, like a doll in a scene, but not her smile. That was real.

She glanced down to her cup, holding it by the saucer in one hand, and began to stir it around with a little spoon. Sarah, without taking her eyes off of her, accepted her cup and did the same.

"You have my sympathies. Truly," Sarah said.

Delphine laughed again.

"Hm. It is a pain you forget easily. Your gain far outweighs it." She stared into her tea as she spoke, her eyes taking on that wayward, cloudy quality again. "I do wish to apologize, however. I was very disheartened to have missed your engagement ball. I feared you thought it disrespectful," she went on, peering upward straight at her.

Sarah held her cup with both hands.

"Oh. No. Nothing of the sort. Being in labor is more than a legitimate reason," she replied. Delphine smiled.

"Thank you."

Another awkward pause followed that. Sarah's eyes veered around as Delphine took quiet sips of her tea. She crossed gazes with Mariella, who looked equally lost. Sarah pursed her lips as she continued to observe.

"Um...your dress is very pretty," she said. Delphine peered up again. "I've...never seen anything like it. In a painting, maybe."

"Thank you. It was a gift from my husband," Delphine replied, then lowered her cup a fraction. "He insists I don myself in things that are...of a suitable caliber."

Sarah quirked a brow. That was...an interesting way to phrase it.

"Like this room?" she asked, her brow moving higher up her forehead as she gazed all around. "The flowers here are very pretty, if not...strong."

Delphine's smile spread as she lowered her cup to rest on her lap.

"Indeed," she said, and looked upward as well. "Bryce admires flowers. He enjoys seeing me here with them. I apologize if the scent is overwhelming. ...You get used to it."

A peculiar feeling twitched in Sarah's ear at the tail end of that sentence, compelling her to pause and peer back at Delphine quite shrewdly. She was in profile now, gazing at the flowers. That look of longing was back. Only now, it was...sad?

Huh? What kind of look was that?

"Tell me, Sarah, how are you finding the Underground thus far?" Delphine suddenly asked, catching Sarah off guard as she turned and locked eyes with her. "You are from the Above, just as I was, I'm curious to know your answer."

Oh. Well, straight to business then, eh? She figured this would be the nature of their conversation, but being asked so directly still sent her squirming in her seat.

"Um...it's...complicated," Sarah said, choosing her words carefully. "The world itself is amazing, but...transitioning has been...difficult...at times."

That's putting it awful mildly, isn't it? her inner self chimed.

"I understand. I felt the same when I first came," Delphine replied. Her tone was neutral, but it was her eyes that gave her away. They held onto Sarah's, and she knew, somehow, that her façade had been cut through like it was nothing. A strange bit of accordance passed between them, inciting Sarah to frown just as Delphine glanced away. Did they...were they the same?

"You will learn in stride…" Delphine murmured into her cup. "I promise."

Sarah's fingers curled on the porcelain.

"What about you?" she asked, then recoiled at the sound of her own insistence. "Er...sorry...if that was too direct. I just...I've never met another person from the Aboveground before. I'm also curious."

Delphine tilted her head to the side. Sarah was looking down into her cup, her nervousness more than evidenced by it. Hm...so young. Delphine's gaze passed through her as she replied,

"You may ask me whatever you wish, Sarah. That's why I invited you here."

Her tone was assuaging, perhaps even intentionally so. Sarah relaxed her grip and, with a modicum of confidence, met her in the eye again.

"Well...how did you come to the Underground? How did you first meet Braxton?"

A little quirk of the brow was Delphine's reaction, clearly not expecting that to be her first question. But, alas, keeping things trite was in their best interest. Perhaps Sarah was not as naïve as she seemed.

Delphine leaned back a little and pursed her lips in thought.

"Hm...how did we meet? A mundane affair really, and entirely unoriginal," she said, and tilted her head with a smile. "We met at a gala —a masquerade— their kind are quite fond of those." Her inflection was potentially wry, or at least that was how Sarah interpreted it. It was uncanny, really...to share such similar encounters. "My father was a vicomte. When word traveled that a mysterious, foreign marquis was visiting the land, he was the first to extend an invitation."

"That's...French, right? You're from France?" Sarah asked. Delphine smiled widely.

"Yes."

"How long ago was that?"

"Oh...who can say?" she replied, and took another sip of tea. "You stop counting the years after a while. Tell me, what year is it in the Above?"

"Um, nineteen-eighty-nine," Sarah answered. Delphine's eyes widened.

"Well, I suppose it has been quite a while then. I left my home in the year seventeen-fifty-two."

Now Sarah looked surprised.

"Wow. That was...a long time ago. Your accent —it's still so heavy."

So heavy certain words she spoke were difficult to understand. Delphine, looking a little coy, glanced to the side before replying.

"T'is no coincidence. Cadence is all I have of my people. I speak like this to remember them, and because...Bryce finds it charming."

Sarah's brow drew together.

"All you have...did you leave abruptly?" she asked. Delphine, in the midst of another dainty sip, nodded. Sarah, remembering she still had a cup of her own, compulsively mimicked.

"Yes. In a sense," Delphine replied. "Your accent is also distinct. I am not familiar with it. From where in the Aboveground do you hail, if I may ask?"

"Um, America."

A wrinkle between her brows let Sarah know that she was skeptical.

"Really? I've met only one person from there, but he spoke much differently. Ah, well, I suppose things do change in time," she said, and let her cup rest in her lap once again. "...Will you tell me some stories, Sarah? Perhaps on how the world has changed over these many years."

Sarah's mouth opened and she instinctively looked to Marie —but why, she didn't know. This wasn't a topic Mariella could help her on, her blank returning stare a confirmation of it. Sarah averted her eyes to the ceiling.

"Um...well...where to begin…" she said, and then winced. Shit. "I...don't know a whole lot about French history, actually. I kind of...tuned out during that chapter." Her voice turned into a mumble at the end which Delphine didn't quite catch. She only looked at Sarah quizzically until she went on. Sarah, feeling a long dormant sense of anxiety rising from the core of her bones as she tried her damndest to remember absolutely everything she'd slept through in Ms. Hannagin's Global History class, put on her very best, basic smile in hopes to cover up the realization that she might actually be as uneducated as Roldan liked to claim.

"You left in seventeen-fifty-two?" she repeated, then rolled her eyes to the other side. "Let's see...well, there's been...a lot of war." Oh geez. Unloading all that would take a day and a half, and...was probably not something Delphine wanted to hear. Best to deflect, she determined. "The monarchy is no longer a thing. Versailles is a tourist attraction. There's also this big monument called the Eiffel Tower. It's in Paris. It's become pretty iconic to the rest of the world, but...I'm pretty sure your people hated it and thought it was ugly or something..." How much detail was Delphine hoping to get exactly? Should she tell her about French fries? But weren't those a lie?! Faaaack. "I'm...drawing a bit of a blank now. Oh geez. I'm sorry. I should have paid more attention in school…"

Contrary to the cold sweat Sarah was undoubtedly experiencing, the giggle her little display received was of sheer delight.

Sarah looked at Delphine in confoundment.

"Heh. It's alright," she said, covering her mouth again. "Asking you to recall almost two and a half centuries of history is no small feat. I don't expect it all at once."

She sounded sincere. Sarah frowned.

"I'm sorry, I'm not a very good source. If I sit down and think, I know I can remember more, but...you're probably really disappointed..."

"On the contrary," Delphine cut her off, with a wry grin. "—you are my only source. I am happy to know anything at all."

Sarah paused her flustering. That...was considerate. While Sarah couldn't help but suspect her good nature to be for her benefit, she also couldn't shake how real it felt. She spoke so softly, leisurely. Her slight mannerisms conveyed delicacy and elegance —like her dress and the flowers...

"Well...technology has certainly come a long way," Sarah said, trying to wrack her brain by going in a different route. "There are cars...which are basically motorized carriages. And phones...which are...devices that let people communicate immediately with people across great distances. And there are radios which can play music just about anywhere. And there are things called movies, which are...moving pictures that tell stories? And video games and computers...explaining those is kind of difficult, though."

"I see. And how are these devices powered? They sound similar to contraptions I've encountered in this world. Has the Aboveground finally harnessed magic?"

Sarah blinked. Wai wha? Similar contraptions? Did the Underground have its own cinema?!

"No," Sarah answered, shoving that —probably dumb— question away for the time being. "No, they're mostly powered by electricity."

"By what?"

Sarah paused. Delphine looked perfectly befuddled. When...was electricity discovered again? Oh god. She could feel Ms. Hannagin cursing her through the veil.

"Um...it's a form of energy," she said, and that was all. Delphine, with a look shifting towards intrigue, leaned back into her cage of fluff with a knuckle pressed to her lip.

"Fascinating."

Sarah turned her eyes away conspicuously.

"Yeah...but...to be frank...trying to recall some of these things is making me feel kind of dumb," she admitted —with surprising urgency. Then, with a big ol' smile, deflected from the matter entirely. "I'd much rather hear about you and the mysterious, foreign marquis."

Delphine, more attuned to Sarah's embarrassment than she'd let on, grinned in amusement as she deferred. Hm, how cute...

"Very well," she said with a dip of the head, and carried on like the tangent had never happened. "My father put on a ball to welcome him, the most extravagant ball I had ever seen. I was at marrying age then, you see, and, besides being rumored to be unmarried, the Marquis was of a much higher rank." She paused to lean forward and place her empty cup on the table. Again, Sarah felt the urge to meet her half way and save her the trouble. "It was...a spectacle. And, naturally, my girlish brain thought it all for me." She quirked a playful brow as she said that, straightening back into the mold. "I met him on the dance floor. It was a very typical meeting. Like a fairytale. Our affair became quite passionate. He was...so charming and kind," she went on, then smiled bashfully. "I am shameless to say I fell madly in love. My father could not have been happier."

Sarah tilted her head.

"Did...you know he was a fae?"

"Not at first," she replied, then made a flittering gesture with her hand. "He showed me tricks —things that delighted and fooled the eye. I was so naïve back then." And then she folded her hands neatly. "I asked him about the land he hailed from. About the province he ruled. He told me such marvelous stories, I thought them surely false. But...he never lied. He never pretended to be human. It was I who refused to believe him." And she glanced up to catch Sarah's eye. "One night, he confessed to me that he was not a marquis, and asked if I would still love him. I told him I would love him as a pauper, if only he remained true." And then she glanced away. "He confided that he was a king. One far more powerful than any in my realm. He told me he was on conquest, and asked if I would come away with him. Become his queen. Live forever in that marvelous, impossible place."

Delphine spoke sweetly with an airy upturn, but Sarah's brow only drew tighter and tighter. The look on Delphine's face was beyond wistful, filled with romance and the folly of lost youth. She wasn't expecting it. Wasn't expecting a tale of conquest to be...happy.

"What did you tell him?" Sarah asked.

"What any young girl with grand designs and a heart filled with stars would say: yes." She said that readily, but what followed came with a pause. "Of course...that happy moment was but that, a moment." And she looked towards the floor. "Immediately after our engagement, there was an outbreak of smallpox among the serfs. It spread quickly. Many panicked and tried to flee quarantine. My father was against the inoculations, my mother for them. She had my younger siblings treated without his permission. Two of my brothers died."

Sarah and Marie shard impulsive side eyes before Sarah awkwardly replied,

"Oh. I'm sorry…"

"It seemed...much too suddenly, that we were surrounded by death and darkness," Delphine went on, unphased. "The burning pits painted the sky black for days. It was...a true nightmare. Bryce...my poor, sweet Bryce...he'd never seen anything like it before. Disease does not run so rampant in the Underground, you see. He was...horrified by it. He begged me to leave with him, but I could not. My family was grieving. And our people...they needed our support."

"So what happened? Did he force you to go?"

Delphine, losing herself to memories of the past, blinked out of them and looked at Sarah with something of surprise.

"Force? No. Of course not."

Sarah pursed her lips. Delphine's reply was absolute —her eye contact betraying nothing. Sarah berated herself internally, hating that some selfish part of her was just looking for fault. She'd been under the impression that conquest marriages were all barbaric and by force. She'd assumed Delphine's was the same. That they might share some sort of kinship because of it. But...maybe she was still on her own.

"Although…" Delphine continued. "There are times I wish he had forced me. My final memories are...painful." She closed her eyes in a look of discomfort, then shook the image away. "My home became very silent towards the end. We lost many loved ones, friends, and villagers. The rabble...were hurting. They needed justice. So, naturally, they blamed my father."

"Why?"

"Because he objected to the inoculations," Delphine stated with a shrug. "He denied its practice in our province. And yet, it was performed under his own roof. Two of my brothers died, but my remaining three brothers and sister lived. The people called him a hypocrite and came to believe that their loved ones would have survived had he allowed it." And then she shifted uncomfortably. "They sieged our home, with my parents and remaining siblings still in it, and burned it to the ground." Delphine frowned as she said that, but her tone lacked emotion. Sarah felt herself drawing back in her seat. "I would have perished in that fire...I should have. But...as it turned out, my husband really was made of magic." And then she looked up at Sarah reassuringly. "I called to him, and he saved me. Unfortunately...it was too late for the rest. We watched together as everything I ever knew burned. I was so distraught...I couldn't stand it. The next morning, I begged him to take me away, to that place of fairy tales. And...he did."

She ended her recount with a teeny shrug. Sarah stared intently, without response. Mariella seized the moment to fill in the gap.

"My Queen...that's hardly mundane," she said. Delphine blinked slowly, her soft smile masking a ghost of sadness.

"Modesty...is a virtue."

"So...you came here willingly then? You loved him?" Sarah asked, operating on her own wavelength. She looked confused, even angry over the fact. Delphine looked away from Mariella, to Sarah, and cocked her head.

"Yes, and yes," she said, then frowned again. "You look disconcerted. Has something I've said bothered you?"

Realizing her behavior was totally uncalled for, Sarah checked herself and settled down. She was just so surprised. She really wasn't expecting their marriage to be consensual….was she really...hoping that it wasn't?

"Forgive me. I don't mean to," she said, appalled by her own thoughts. Wanting to turn the focus away from herself, she sought out another deflection. "That was a very…tragic story. It's good that he was there when you needed him." Was it wrong to suspect it was all planned? That the plague, the fire, the horror was all just a part of the game? Why was she so offended that it wasn't? Needing to get away from these dark emotions, she pressed forward. "I'm glad to hear he cared for you so deeply. It seems he still cares. He was...very smitten with you just now."

Thankfully, Delphine took the bait. She smiled readily before she replied, "Yes. Even after all this time, he still cherishes me. I am very fortunate."

Sarah, while still internally cursing herself, was about to sigh in relief. About to.

"However…" Delphine went on, her voice trailing off as a thought played behind her eyes. "I believe our experience has made him fear my fragility. His pampering can sometimes feel a bit...stifling." And she gestured around the room. "Our story was born in ugliness. His wish is for me to only know beauty."

Only beauty...Sarah's thoughts repeated. So far, everything was Bryce's preference, and Bryce's suggestion. This opulence was a thing that made him happy. Sarah, in her cynical state of mind, couldn't help but wonder...

"And...what is your wish?" she asked.

There was a pause. Delphine actually froze for a split second, before twitching her brow in confusion.

"My wish?" she repeated.

Sarah nodded, then glanced around the room.

"Do you...really enjoy all this? This...special treatment? It doesn't seem like he treats Anathaea this way."

Sarah felt cynicism mold into suspicion at the way Delphine's expression changed. It was subtle, like everything, but —just like before— it was in her eyes. They widened a fraction. And in that moment, Sarah could have sworn she saw fear.

"I...appreciate my husband's affection," she said, very evenly, after a moment. Sarah's expression hardened.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but that doesn't answer my question."

Sarah held her stare, urging for more of that strange unspoken dialogue. Maybe it wasn't pettiness, or resentment, or cynicism, or even jealousy she'd been feeling. Maybe her intuition was right. Maybe there really was...something wrong here.

Delphine's breath may have risen, but it was impossible to tell in that dress.

A new smile fixed into place, and she looked and gestured to her left.

"Have you noticed the fixtures?" she asked. Sarah and Marie, in mirrored confusion, turned and looked.

"Huh?"

"Bryce does not normally allow goblins to tend me. They are too ugly. However, they suit this place quite well. He keeps them dressed like little garden gnomes. See?"

She wiggled her fingers in the exact moment Sarah's eyes landed on the thing in question. It was indeed a garden gnome, dressed and painted like a million others in her world. Sarah actually startled back when it suddenly twitched to life and approached them.

At Delphine's behest, it came to her side, then pulled the lid off a covered tray which had also been sitting on the table.

"Would you like a macaroon?"

Sarah hesitated, disillusionment unfurling fast. Delphine stared at her with that same sweet smile, but her eyes were imperative. And from that, the dialogue passed —they were being watched.

"Um...sure," Sarah finally answered, feeling very uneasy as the goblin came forward and offered her the tray. She almost thanked it, but remembered that was not the custom here.

The goblin offered one to Marie, who accepted silently, keeping her eyes on Sarah all the while. She looked extremely bothered now —and she did not blame her. Was this...why His Majesty bid her to come?

"Your dress looks...very uncomfortable," Sarah said, trying her best to hold back. Delphine forced another smile.

"It is a little stiff, I admit."

"You can hardly move in it."

Sarah looked up sharply with a tone that matched, her free hand constricting around her teacup.

"And these flowers...they're killing my sinus already. Doesn't it bother you?"

She was getting angry. She couldn't help it. Maybe her hormones were getting the better of her, but right now her rage felt fully justified. How much of that story had been false? How much of that loving scene with him was an act? To what extent was she being forced to live, exactly? Thinking these things was sending Sarah reeling much too quickly. And seeing her in that dress...in something that rendered her completely helpless and reliant, but was oh so pretty and suitable towards her—

A brief silence passed before Delphine replied, in a soft tone,

"Not anymore."

Sarah felt her anger quell, if only for the moment. Her tone was calm. Pacifying. Like it was meant to reassure her. It didn't.

"I'm sorry," Sarah said. Delphine glanced down.

"Please believe me...I do love my husband, Sarah," she said, tracing a seam on her skirt. "I have always loved him. But love...is built on compromise, no? Some...more severe than others. As the wife of a fae, surely you know that?" She peered up to catch Sarah's reaction, and was not at all surprised to find her expression steeled. Honestly it...was a relief. "All I can say, is that my life could be far worse than enduring the strong scent of flowers," she went on, then inhaled through her nose as if to banish any unwanted emotions. "Your reactions concern me, Sarah. Is your own story less mundane?"

Sarah felt her jaw clenching. She wanted to press Delphine further, but that obvious deflection made her hesitant. She was shifting the focus back to her —playing it off with an expert level of nonchalance. Seeing just how well practiced this woman was made her...very worried.

So what should she do? She wanted to answer honestly, but…

But they were the same. They were both women whose marriages reflected the strength of a nation. And they were being watched —their words counted. She needed to tread carefully...do as Delphine did, smother her pride until it could no longer scream. If not for her own sake, then for her kingdom's.

"Um…" Sarah said, and glanced at Marie. "It's certainly less...conventional."

She held Marie's gaze, watching as a shroud of sympathy formed there. Clearly, Mariella was just as aware of the circumstances. Sarah straightened in her seat and looked back to Delphine.

"Will you tell me?" she asked.

"I...I'm not even sure where to start, really," Sarah said, tapping her nails against her cup in an anxious manner. "Jareth...came across me when I was young —I didn't know until recently. He used to watch over me. I guess I...entertained him. In an endearing way...I'd like to think." By now her eyes had averted, not expecting to be feeling as embarrassed as she was. "I think...he wanted us to have an unoriginal, fairytale story like your own. So...he tried to manipulate me into wishing myself away to him —so he could save me. But...I didn't...and...he didn't. I wished away my brother instead. He took him...and when I asked for him back, he set some terms. I had to play his game."

She found the courage to glance over at Delphine then. Her own expression was guarded, but Delphine's was open with curiosity.

"What game?" she asked.

"I had to solve the labyrinth. If I did, he'd give my brother back."

Delphine blinked like that didn't quite make sense. She did not speak these thoughts, however. She only tilted her head to the side.

"And did you?"

Sarah felt her toes curling in her shoes.

"Yes. I did."

"And did he?"

"...yes."

This felt like an interrogation. She really did not like recalling the beginning of their relationship. It wasn't that she'd rather forget, but...let sleeping dogs lie...and all that.

Sarah was caught off guard when Delphine impulsively grinned. She looked like she might laugh, but kept it to a pleasant hum.

"Hm...That sounds just like him," she said.

Sarah scowled.

"It does?"

"Conventional things bore him," Delphine said, crossing her legs as she attempted to make herself more comfortable. "Bryce finds it surprising, but it makes perfect sense to me that it was a human who caught his eye. A fae wouldn't have challenged him like that." She spoke plainly, with a kind of familiarity that Sarah was surprised by. She seemed to know Jareth fairly well. Did he...know how she was being treated?

Before Sarah could ponder this too deeply, Delphine spoke again.

"But...I'm curious. What happened after? This does not sound like a particularly romantic tale."

Sarah could not stop the incredulous smile that flashed across her face.

"Heh...it's not," she said, chuckling to herself in a manner that Delphine did not understand. She watched intently while Sarah continued. "We...went our separate ways. For a few years, anyway. I never expected to see him again. And then...he came back."

Delphine quirked a brow.

"He came back?"

"Yeah…a few months ago," Sarah said, and shifted uncomfortably. "He showed up the night of my birthday and...offered me a second chance to go with him. Only...that time, he made it...impossible to refuse." She licked her lips and scowled at nothing, then quickly shook her head. Delphine wondered what kind of memory had struck her just then. "I had no idea he was planning on marrying me, though," Sarah quickly added with a shrug, then looked up at a Delphine like that momentary waver had never happened. "He didn't bother to tell me about his intentions until after the fact."

Delphine's head slowly tilted to the other side, her stare invasive and unreadable. Sarah wondered if she should keep talking, but really had nothing more to say. After a moment, something in Delphine's eyes softened, and her pursed lips, on the verge of expressing concern, instead drew into a ghost of a grin.

Her voice held an odd sense of kindness when she said, "That also sounds just like him."

Sarah's brow knitted tightly in the center. This woman...it was like she could see through her. Sarah had no idea how she was supposed to react. "So…" Delphine continued, raising a shrewd brow at Sarah. "—your courtship has been a bit...out of order then?"

Sarah huffed.

"That's one way of putting it, yeah."

Delphine's smile became more apparent.

"Certainly not mundane."

She said that with amusement. Like she was teasing her. Sarah did not understand how such a tone fit the conversation at all, which made it hard to respond. After a moment of silence, Delphine's demeanor humbled. The look in her eyes wilted, turned vacant —just like before.

"Does he cherish you?" she asked. Sarah met her gaze guardedly. "As I am cherished?"

She could feel Mariella's worry roaming all over her as they waited for her response.

"Um...no," she replied, knotting her fingers. "Not to the same...extent, at least."

She glanced away and sat stiffly under Delphine's mysterious scrutiny. She had no idea what the woman was thinking, and it seemed every silence stretched for just one second too long.

After another moment, the Queen of Yore hummed, a determination made.

"Good…" she said, so softly, so the goblin would not hear.

Sarah felt all sense of anxiety leave her as she frowned.

"Delphine…"

"Oh, look at that," Delphine suddenly interjected. Sarah flinched back. Her tone was enthused and much too animated. "We're out of tea. Be a good darling and fetch us some more." She spoke to the goblin, smiling and shooing the thing off insistently. The goblin bowed and took the tray away. Sarah sat silently, at a loss for what to say.

Delphine watched a spot in the foliage intently for a prolonged moment, waiting until their chaperone was surely gone.

"Forgive my outburst," she eventually said, smoothing out her dress as if what had just happened could actually be considered an outburst. "But, I got the feeling you were about to say something...unsuitable." Sarah's frown endured at hearing such words. It made Delphine smile. "I am glad to see you regard me this way, Sarah. I was afraid you would not."

"Why?" Sarah retorted. Delphine's expression took on a veil of sympathy.

"Jareth is not known for being particularly kindhearted…" she said, glancing downward briefly. "Nor patient. Nor compromising. Nor...romantic. You must be very strong to be able to still feel angry."

The weight of those words struck a chord in Sarah more powerfully than she could have anticipated. She felt her jaw tightening on reflex, unable to form a response.

A little sigh let them know that this was a feeling Delphine was all too familiar with as well.

"But...you must be careful," she said, leaning forward with a frown. "I had eyes like yours once, too."

Sarah's hand twitched, fighting off the desire to fist. She was getting angry again, or upset, or something unpleasant enough to form a knot in her stomach. Was this...what she had to look forward to? Was this the fate that awaited her should she have given up or given in when Jareth was at his worst? Was this a fate that might still await her?

Mariella, perceptive of the tension in Sarah's cheek and the look she could see building in her eye, reached out and clasped her hand. The physical contact sparked the potential energy accumulating in her nerves, though the compassionate stare Sarah caught from her peripheral was enough to ground her.

She squeezed Marie's hand back, and let out a shallow exhale.

"What is it like…" she mumbled, staring up intently. "...being a human queen? Being a second wife?"

She was angry at herself for not asking her real question. Yes, the goblin was gone, but who else might be lurking in these bushes? This tip toeing was frustrating. She couldn't imagine having to choose her words like this in her own home. The stress it put Delphine under, Sarah thought, must be exhausting.

Delphine, wanting to alleviate Sarah's mood as much as possible, made a gentle gesture towards the room with her hands.

"It is like this," she said, so simply. "Bryce...is very doting. He goes to such lengths to keep me from worry. As the second queen, my legal and legislative authority is superseded by Anathaea. She holds all the real power. And that is fine. I'm not one to make those kinds of decisions anyway. My life is one of pure luxury. I am blessed."

Sarah regarded her very skeptically, then released Mariella's hand. Luxury, huh?

"Braxton said I'm the first human from the Above you've met since coming here. Has he never brought you back to visit?" she asked.

A twitch of a smile came and went on Delphine's face.

"No. No...he fears for my safety. The Aboveground...is a very dangerous place. It is better…to remain here. Those memories would only bring pain." And she paused as a little wince haunted her brow. "Besides, there is nothing left for me there. Too many years have passed, and I have my own family now."

Rehearsed lines, those were, if Sarah had ever heard one. She could practically hear Braxton's voice lining Delphine's, rationalizing it all away in the name of love.

She was really, really, starting to hate that guy.

"Yeah...I'm sorry if this seems rude, but I have to ask: you and Anathaea, how does that work? I'm...still learning about the whole mating dynamic."

For both their sake, she tried to ignore her anger as much as possible. Instead, she let her curiosity take over. Everything Delphine said would paint her a clearer picture. —and she had every intention of seeing through that picture-perfect mold smiling back at her.

"Of course. There's nothing rude about that question," Delphine replied. "It was something that caught me very off guard as well. When Bryce proposed marriage to me, he did not mention he was already married. You can imagine my surprise when he brought me here and...well..."

"Do she and Braxton have any children?"

"No. No, theirs was an arranged marriage. There is no love shared between them. When it became clear they would not conceive a child together, she released him to take another. It was around that time that we met."

Sarah paused, using a break in the conversation to mull that over. What alarmed her the most, perhaps, was the difference in the way he was treating his two wives. Anathaea clearly had independence. Was seen as a peer and equal. Delphine, however, was being literally idolized. That was...delusional. Obsessive. Controlling. Demeaning. Could he….really claim it as love?

"I see," Sarah replied, crossing her legs in frustration. "How...did she react when he married you?"

"She was...rather indifferent towards me. I will always be of lower rank than she, so I suppose my existence does not matter. I don't think she's particularly fond of Bryce, so...I like to think my presence by his side has brought her relief."

"And now that you've had a child? Does that change things?"

Delphine pursed her lips as she thought.

"Not really. Anathaea will remain the primary queen of Yore. My son will remain the crowned prince of Yore, despite any children she may yet bear. T'is the Law of Lineage."

"And...that doesn't bother her? I feel like...that would make things tense," Sarah replied, then glanced to the side as an intrusive thought broke free. "That had to be one awkward pregnancy…"

Delphine tilted her head in a look of puzzlement.

"Tense? Awkward? I wouldn't know."

Sarah peered over at her again.

"What do you mean?"

Delphine opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. She looked a little surprised by Sarah's question —and worried. Sarah became even more attentive.

"I...was kept isolated during my pregnancy," she said, with some reluctance. "Bryce and our physicians were the only ones allowed to see me. Whatever Ana's feelings might have been during that time, I will never know."

Sarah scowled intensely.

"Really? Why? Did you have compilations?"

The aggression in Sarah's tone seemed to make Delphine uncomfortable. She looked away and shifted around in her spot.

"No…" she replied.

Sarah's eyes narrowed.

"Then why were you isolated?"

Another fidget and twitchy grin were her response, and, actually, were mannerisms that seemed much more natural for her. Sarah got the feeling she was finally breaking through. Hopefully the goblin stayed away a little longer.

"The fae take pregnancy very seriously," Delphine said, as plainly as possible. "It is one of the few conditions their people suffer mortality from. So, their treatment of it is very...precautious." She paused and looked at her lap. For a second, Sarah thought she saw her biting her lip. "Despite being human, I was regarded in this same way," she went on, lifting her head. "I was confined to my bed, and only allowed to leave it to wash and use the restroom. And, even then, I was carried, treated, and observed."

Sarah's expression was akin to aghast.

"What? For the entire pregnancy?"

Delphine turned even more meek.

"...yes."

Sarah shook her head.

"But that's...don't they know too much bed rest is actually bad for a pregnancy?" she asked, her voice rising a notch. Delphine flinched against it, smiling in spite of herself as she looked to the side.

"Is it? I did not know that. Our physicians were very adamant that I not move. At all. I was hovered over constantly," she said, then gripped the skirt of her dress in both hands. "Perhaps that is why I had so many sores...it became hard to walk after a while."

Sarah just stared. It was all she could do.

"It was...a very tedious experience," Delphine continued. "—Arduous and mind numbing, at times. Out of all the years I've been here, those seven months were by far the longest. I am glad I delivered safely, and to finally be a mother, undoubtedly. But...I do admit, it's not an experience I would wish on anyone."

Sarah, feeling a heated rise of nerves along with a hint of dread, turned to Marie.

"Is that really what they do?" she asked. Mariella winced. Frowned. Sarah did not like that expression at all.

"...Customs differ," Mariella said, with a level tone. "Her Majesty's experience may simply be a tradition in Yore."

Sarah gritted her teeth. That answer was no answer at all, and from the look on Mariella's face, she damn well knew it too. She'd been concerned for Delphine up to this point, but now she couldn't stop thinking about Jareth. What his customs were. What he might try to force her into...

"Is something bothering you, Sarah?"

Sarah blinked out of her downward spiral and looked over at Delphine. She, too, had a look of concern —although hers was laced with ignorance.

Sarah gulped down her nerves, and forced her attention to go back to the task at hand.

"No. I'm just...sorry you had to go through that," she said. Delphine dipped her head respectfully.

"As I said, it is a pain outweighed by its gain. The royal family is a true family now."

"Braxton mentioned that," Sarah quickly interjected. "You and Anathaea...are you...co-mothering? How...is that going?"

If there was a crack in her voice, no one noticed. Though all the while, her heart was pounding. There was no way in Hell she would let Jareth chain her to her bed for nine months straight. No way she would be ignored and treated like a lab rat. She didn't want to believe he would, but...with his past…precautious suddenly seemed a lot more probable.

"Co-mothering? My, what a term. I suppose you could call it that," Delphine said, and glanced over at a nearby tree. "From what I hear...it is going just fine."

Sarah blinked in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I am told he is doing very well. He is healthy. A delightful little boy. I couldn't be happier."

"You're told?" Sarah repeated, making the word sound nasty. "Do...you not get to see him?"

Delphine paused —the most noticeable one yet. When she spoke, the words were clipped, and Sarah noted, with growing alarm, that she would not meet her in the eye while saying them.

"I do. At times."

Alarm turned to anger, turned to a weight pressing down on Sarah's brow. Her expression hardened and became deadpan. She really, really hoped this conversation was not about to go where she thought it was.

"At times?" she asked.

"My husband...fears my fragility," Delphine said, though looked to be trying to convince herself more than anything. "Humans are weaker than fae, after all. He does not want me to become...overwhelmed. He prefers my time with our son be limited and that he...be cared for by others. The stresses of dealing with a newborn are...unsuitable towards me."

More lines. More practiced conditioning. More doting, loving efforts. Sarah felt such unbridled rage, she could barely contain it.

"What?" she asked. Mariella tensed.

"His intentions are good," Delphine assured. "He only worries for my health. I do not begrudge him for that. Although...I would like to see him more."

"Is that not your right? I thought women called the shots when it came to the children?" Sarah asked. Delphine's shoulders tensed.

"Of course. But...it is also the responsibility of the man to care for their wife. Their decisions on how to do so are final. Bryce does what he believes is best for me. So long as our son is well...I won't complain."

Outrage, amplified by hormones, demanded Sarah stand up and rip that stupid collar off Delphine's neck and scream some bloody sense into her —but she resisted.

"How often do you get to see your baby, exactly?" she asked, positively brimming. Delphine winced again.

"...Once a day. Usually. For an hour."

Sarah felt a thread of composure snap.

"Are you fucking serious?" she asked, near to stand. Mariella gasped at her side and reached out.

"Sarah—"

"I'm sorry," Sarah quickly replied, turning and holding up a hand against Marie. "I didn't mean to swear."

Delphine, playing off shock at hearing such a word come out of a lady's mouth, smiled as best she could.

"It is alright. The goblin has not yet returned."

Sarah glared low and to the side. This was fucked. Every which way. Every new admission made it worse and worse.

"That's just… I'm sorry, that's just unbelievable—"

"Is it?" Delphine countered. Sarah looked up. "Have customs changed in the Above? It was not uncommon for young children to be raised by their nannies when I was a maiden," she explained, conveying honest confusion to see Sarah so affected.

"Customs have changed, yes," Sarah replied. Delphine glanced down.

"I see...but, even still, I must believe it is in his best interest," she said, staring intently at her lap. "My son is a fae. A crowned prince. He must be raised with the proper ideals of one. It is lonely for me at times, but...my heritage puts me at a natural disadvantage of providing that." And she looked up with conviction. "You will see, one day, when you birth your first child."

"Like hell."

Delphine drew back and blinked.

"Pardon?"

Sarah, stewing to the point where she feared her slightest movements, clenched her hands in tight fists as her sides.

"I just...I can't fathom not being allowed near my own baby. For any reason, let alone one as insulting and stupid as that. It's enraging." And she looked up and at Delphine with barely shackled fury. "Aren't you angry?"

The sound of a door closing shut signaled the return of the goblin. Sarah sat on the edge awaiting Delphine's response, but, instead, she became deathly quiet.

The goblin approached them without a trace of awareness, placed a fresh tray of tea on the table between them, then went back to its spot under the tree.

Tension sizzled the air, the stretching silence thickening it. Sarah realized Delphine would no longer continue the conversation while the goblin was present. She needed to be smart about this. Find a way to help this woman.

"May I be allowed to pay my respects?" she asked. Delphine twitched out of her nervous state. "This is a special visit, after all. Surely, it would be alright to have him brought here? If I request it? By Law of Hospitality?"

—And what a fine thing that was, for a Queen especially. Court etiquette dictated that a host meet any and all needs of their guest. Roldan had said this was a flex law, but, for queens, it was literal and resolute.

Mulling all of this over, Delphine bit on her lip as she hesitantly replied,

"I...I suppose?"

Sarah leaned forward.

"I insist."

The look on Delphine's face was not at all confident, but, by law, she did as she was asked. She told the goblin to summon Sebastian, who promptly entered but a minute later.

"How may I serve you, My Queen? Are you fairing well?"

Delphine, visibly nervous, forced a smile and spoke gently.

"I am. Her Majesty's company is most pleasant. She has requested an audience with the Prince. The Queen of Goblins would like to pay her respects."

Sebastian, clearly caught off guard by this, turned and looked at Sarah with skepticism.

"Ah...Your Majesty...that is most honorable of you, but—"

"I have made my request, Sabastian," Sarah said, determined not to let him finish that sentence. "It is imperative that I greet the Prince. I do not know when I will have another opportunity, and I cannot dishonor the friendship between our nations. Will you refuse me, chamberlain?"

Wherever the gall to say that, and so fiercely, came from, Sarah had no fucking clue. Truth be told, she was a jittering mess on the inside, but, externally, she made herself a force not to be trifled with. She held Sebastian's gaze unblinking, and took a great deal of satisfaction from the twitch of unease that betrayed him.

He smiled politely and dipped his head.

"I...will bring him to you, Your Grace."

Sarah did not reply, only turned away with her nose in the air. God, she was so fucking angry, she could barely manage herself.

Thankfully, Sebastian was a good little serf and went on his way. As seconds passed, Sarah wondered what would actually happen. Maybe Sebastian would run straight to Braxton, or Anathaea. Maybe it was all about to blow up in her face…

Delphine, sharing Sarah's worry (albeit to a much higher degree), sat silently as the minutes ticked. When the door finally opened again, the poor woman nearly leapt to her feet.

If she could, anyway. That dress made it impossible, after all.

Sebastian appeared with a maid (presumably) accompanying him. Sarah watched Delphine grow an extra inch as she sat higher in her seat, her eyes going wide with actual passion at the sight of the swaddled bundle the woman carried.

Seeing such a drastic change in her behavior, in that split second, was so pitiful it made Sarah want to cry.

The maid, uncertain about what was happening, looked at Sebastian for reassurance. He nodded silently, so she took a step forward and offered the baby out to Delphine.

"Your Majesty…" the maid said, keeping her head low. Delphine took the baby from her carefully, her smile bright and happy and beyond all measure of relief. She brought him close and nuzzled her nose against his.

"Hello, mon cher. Comment vas-tu, mon précieux garçon?" she coo'd at him, looking and sounding so happy. It was like the world melted around her. Like nothing else existed. And that look —that wistful, dreamy, sweet look— was nowhere to be seen. After a moment, Delphine looked up at Sarah with a wide, beaming smile. "Isn't he handsome? His name is Bryndon. T'was Bryce's grandfather's name."

She rocked him and made an affectionate giggle when he murmured. Sarah, while still so angry, couldn't help but smile. A sense of relief started to come over her. She didn't think it would be that easy.

"Will the flowers bother him?" she asked, wondering if maybe they should move to another room...

"Doubtful —though I will send him back if he fusses," Delphine said. "Would you like to hold him?"

Sarah blinked and shook her head.

"Ah...that's alright. I'd rather you hold him," she said. Delphine frowned.

"But you must," she replied, and subtly angled her head in the direction of their silent onlookers. "You wished to pay your respects, remember?"

Both Sebastian and the maid were still standing there, waiting it seemed. Sarah gave them a bit of a glare.

"Of course…" she said, then stood and walked around the table towards Delphine.

She took the baby carefully, disappointed that she was even taking away a single second of time from the two of them. Delphine did not mind, however. Actually, she looked incredibly happy. She steepled her hands and gazed longingly up at him. Sarah, situating him into one arm, pulled back some of the blanket to get a better look at his face.

He was a pudgy little thing, with black hair and dark blue eyes. He blinked up at her, his eyes adjusting in a look that mimicked wonder, and made a little noise.

It was so sweet, she laughed. She couldn't help it. It was astonishing. This thing that was not human, that was born in a world of twisted perversions, and would one day lead it, was right now so innocent. So pure.

The warmth of his little body, the feeling of holding him in her arms...it brought a rise of sudden emotion Sarah was not prepared for. She felt her cheeks grow hot, and her eyes smart. She clenched her teeth and smiled to conceal a quivering lip, then looked away and abruptly handed him back to Delphine.

"He's beautiful," she said, and bowed her head as he left her arms. "It's an honor to meet you, Your Highness."

Fighting against her flaring sinuses, Sarah kept her eyes strictly averted as she retook her seat.

Mariella, sitting so silently, felt her heart breaking all the while. She reached out and lightly stroked Sarah's back after she sat.

Before the moment could even end, Sebastian stepped forward to take the child away from Delphine.

"Excuse you—" Sarah snapped. Sebastian froze and looked over. Her eyes were livid. Cutting. "I'm not done paying my respects yet," she said with a glare. "And I won't be for some time. You may make yourselves comfortable in the hall."

If a disparaging thought crossed Sebastian's mind, it was masterfully concealed. He held her gaze for a moment, then readily bowed. The maid did as well, and then promptly the two of them left.

The sound of the door closing behind them brought great relief, so much that Sarah actually deflated off a held breath. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to settle her nerves.

With every minute that passed, Sarah waited for an intervention. For a guard, or a maid, or Braxton himself to come storming in and take the child away. Anticipation built so steadily it was making her nauseous. And yet, no such thing happened.

A long while passed. An hour. Maybe even two. But time, or a lack thereof, was the furthest thing from Delphine's mind. Her attention, entirely, was fixated on her baby. She rocked him, spoke to him, smiled and teased and bragged to her and Marie. Her transformation was as heartwarming and it was heartbreaking. She looked so happy, and Sarah was happy for her, but…

This shouldn't be happening in the first place. She shouldn't be starved and robbed of the right to motherhood. It was appalling. No matter how Sarah tried to simply enjoy the moment along with Delphine, she just couldn't let go of her outrage.

She was thinking herself in circles. Braxton was Jareth's friend. They were both kings. Raised similarly. And they were...friends.

Did they share similar ideals? She'd never had this conversation with Jareth before. If anything, he avoided the topic. She was worried for her own sake now. Jareth's opinions on practices within his own culture were all over the place. She really didn't have a clue about this. She needed to find out where Jareth stood…

"Thank you, Sarah."

Sarah blinked out of her thoughts and back to reality. The baby had fallen asleep, so Delphine spoke quietly.

"For what?"

Delphine smiled as she gazed down at her son.

"You...are much more confident than I."

Sarah exhaled softly and frowned.

"Would they really tell you no if you gave them an order?" she asked. Delphine blinked slowly.

"No...I doubt they would. As you can see, they readily obeyed. But...that does not mean it will be without consequence. I do not want to see any of our serfs reprimanded."

"Have you...tried talking with Bryce?"

Could it not be that simple? If he really cared, if he really wanted her to be happy, this shouldn't be a problem…

That wistful, dreamy look creeped over Delphine's soft features and fit back into place.

"There is talking...and there is listening. It is...sometimes hard for my husband to do both."

Sarah tried not to growl. She was making up excuses for him, like she had given up without even trying. That frustrated her just as much as Braxton's delusions.

"Maybe if you talked a little louder he would listen a little better," she said. A self-deprecating smile flashed across Delphine's face.

"I've never been one to speak loudly…" she mumbled, then glanced up. "Do you talk loudly with Jareth?"

The look in Sarah's eye was as stern as her tone as she replied,

"I scream."

Delphine laughed softly and with a sense of relief. Her smile only spread as she regarded Sarah and all her outrage.

"Thank goodness," she said, then looked down at the babe. "I'm glad to have met you, Sarah. I'm glad to see you are not quite like me."

Sarah was about to respond when they heard the sound of the door opening. She turned around to meet their guest, and saw it was Sebastian again.

"Your Majesty," he said to Delphine. He held her gaze strictly, and Sarah saw both a sense of urgency and pity in it. Delphine, understanding the look alone, exhaled and looked down at the babe.

"I know. It's been far too long," she said, stroking his cheek before kissing him there. "I do not want to cause any further trouble. Here, put him to bed."

Sarah frowned as she watched Sebastian take the child, for the sight...was disillusioning.

"Forgive me," he said with a lowered head. There was a crease in his brow. A shadow behind his eye. He really meant it. He really was...

She'd been so angry earlier, she'd never noticed just how upset Sebastian was. And she realized...he wasn't reluctant towards her because he was looking down on or challenging her. He was worried. Worried for Delphine.

Sarah's feelings grew very perturbed as Sebastian bowed and took the baby away.

"Well...I believe our time is nearing its end," Delphine said. Sarah, staring vacantly over her shoulder in the direction of the door, turned back around with an unguarded expression. "Will you come visit me again?"

"I will," Sarah replied. "I'll come whenever you want. You're also welcome to visit me in the goblin castle —any time. Just say the word."

Her passion was a delight. Delphine stifled a laugh with a hand to her mouth.

"That makes me very happy," she said.

"I mean it, Delphine. Bring Bryndon too. As a special friend to the Queen of Goblins, I insist."

She held Delphine's gaze intently, but such effort was unnecessary. Delphine's returning smile was kind, and understanding, and full of thanks. She bowed her head in deference. When Sarah and Marie stood, they did the same.

---

Mariella sighed in relief once exiting that garden. The smell of flowers had been so strong, and she'd been so on edge, that the sudden clarity of the air made her head fuzzy.

She was worried for Sarah. Everything about that meeting was the last thing she needed right now, and she knew the restraints of formality had only made it harder on her. She wanted to ask how she was, how she was feeling. She did not get the chance to, however.

The moment they stepped into the hall, Sarah turned. Her eyes landed on a guard idling beside the door. What was once relief turned to panic, for the look Mariella regarded on Sarah's face was...

Absolute rage.

"Do you know where King Braxton and my husband are?" she asked the guard.

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"Good," Sarah said, with a cutting glare. "Take me to them."

---

Jareth leaned back against the frame of a window, his arms crossed as he stared out over the capital city. It'd been some time since he was last here. Over a year, maybe?

Braxton hadn't changed. He was oblivious to everything outside of himself, and had been filling Jareth's ear with prattle on all the wonderful things that had happened to him since his last visit.

Jareth endured it with his usual tact, all the while wondering why he suddenly found this man so annoying and just how much he had to put up with until Sarah was finished with her playdate. It'd been well over an hour...perhaps even two.

Between the forced smiles and trite conversation, his thoughts kept drifting back to her. Things felt so...off between them —despite having technically reconciled. Spending a night away from her had seemed like the right choice in the moment, but...he hadn't expected to feel so perturbed by it. It made him snappy and condescending —even towards her. He closed his eyes as he tried to just ignore it all for the time being.

"So...where is your father?" Jareth asked. They'd migrated to a hall, both lounging in the frame of a large window. Braxton liked the view from this particular spot. After centuries of incessance, most people (Jareth included) had learned it was easier to just humor him...

"Who knows. Somewhere in Ognioux," Braxton replied. Jareth huffed and resituated himself.

Braxton's father, Broden, had been the previous king. Contrary to the norm, he was still alive and well when his son took on that position. Broden had grown tired of the responsibility, apparently, and chose to abdicate his title four centuries ago. No doubt, seeing the son of his late friend doing so well inspired his own passing of the reins to the next generation. Jareth had laughed when he first heard the news. Broden was just as eccentric and frivolous as his own father had been.

"Retirement suits him well," Jareth said, imagining the sheer exaltation that would be Broden on safari in Ognioux. Braxton turned towards him with a grin.

"You know father —everything suits him well."

A smirk curled on one side as Jareth glanced back out the window. It was late afternoon. Gods, he hoped Braxton would not invite them to stay for dinner.

Neither king noticed the group of women who rounded the corner just then. But, oh, did they notice them.

One woman in particular perked right up when she discovered Jareth in the corner.

"Oh! Your Majesty!" she said, smiling from ear to ear and scuttling right up to them. Her two companions followed —their expressions equally giddy. Jareth and Braxton, pulled from their conversation, turned to face them in tandem.

"Good day to you," she said, dipping her head to them both, then turned her attention to Jareth. "I didn't know you were visiting today. What a sweet surprise. It's been so long—" She fluttered her lashes in a flirty manner, holding her posture at an angle she knew was flattering. She was not at all prepared when, very curtly, Jareth said,

"No."

The woman blinked. What? She peered up, looking dumb with her smile strained in place as she processed that word. No? But I haven't asked a question. What did he…

Jareth was staring down at her, his mouth a flat line paired with a sharply arched brow. The look in his eyes was bored. Dismissive. She'd never seen him make that kind of expression before. It was...scary.

"P-pardon?" she asked.

"I'm not interested," he said, deadpan. "Be on your way."

The woman, completely thrown, waded through utter mortification as gracefully as she could, lowering her eyes and bowing once more.

"O-of course. My apologies, Your Majesty. I did not mean to intrude…" she said, blinking rapidly at the floor before quickly turning away and leaving. Her maids followed her readily, their expressions also tense and averted.

Jareth's eyes slanted back towards the window without a second thought. Braxton, shocked into silence for several seconds, eventually broke through that disquiet with a deep, unwarranted laugh.

"Well that was brusque. What a boor you've become," he said, running a hand through his hair as he glanced back in the wake of those women. Jareth made a Tch sound, which called back his attention. Braxton was surprised to find him still looking so sour. "My, my, that little human of yours must have really caught your fancy," he said. Jareth peered over from his peripheral. Braxton's amusement only grew. "You've been rather dour today. Is she vexing you already?"

Jareth rolled his eyes.

"Dour? That's excessive. Perhaps you're just now noticing my usual self."

The obnoxious pff that Braxton responded with had Jareth turning his head towards him reflexively. Braxton caught his gaze and, with such delight in his eyes, held it.

"Undoubtedly," he said, mockingly. Jareth did not respond to that, and only looked away. Braxton tilted his head as he observed. "You look worried. It's unbecoming of you."

"And you're annoyingly pleasant."

Oh, a snap? It wasn't often Jareth expressed a foul mood. Braxton couldn't help but tease him.

"Of course I am. We are kindred now," he said. Jareth quirked a brow. "You've taken a human wife, just as I. I feel a sense of pride that our tastes ended up so similar."

Jareth straightened from the window frame and angled himself away from Braxton.

"I did not choose Sarah because she is human," he said. Braxton's grin turned sly.

"But it certainly has its benefits, no?" he asked, peering around to get a good look at that glare. My, he felt a little sorry for that Lady. "A human woman is much easier than a fae, wouldn't you agree? And more pleasant too."

Jareth was silent. That statement was so incorrect, he could not even dignify it with a response. This abrasiveness did not phase Braxton, however. He carried on in perfect stride.

"Not to mention the obvious..." he said, his leading tone successfully drawing Jareth's attention.

"The obvious?" he asked. Braxton's grin widened.

"They're easier to breed. Or have you forgotten my heir already?"

Of course. He should have known.

"I have not forgotten," Jareth said, glancing away in veiled impatience. "You've made it impossible."

All day. Every other line out of his mouth. Every topic, no matter how far removed, somehow managed to circle back to Braxton's precious and perfect newborn child. In only two hours, Jareth had become exhausted by it. He wondered how Sarah was doing—

"What's this? Are you not happy for me?" Braxton asked, catching Jareth's tight brow clear as day. "I took on a second bride over two centuries ago, and it's finally paid off. Rejoice with me."

There was no request or suggestion in that. Jareth tried not to laugh.

"And if it hadn't? Were you contemplating taking on a third?"

Braxton's brow lifted up his forehead.

"Contemplating? Assuredly, yes," he said, surprised Jareth would ever ask him such a thing. And then he glanced out the window, the image of his darling Delphine reflecting back at him in the glass. "But...no. I could never. Fate has smiled upon me, I'm afraid." And he looked over at Jareth. "I think I've been ruined. She is the only one who will have me now."

He sounded nauseatingly sincere while saying that. Jareth tried to keep his expression as impassive as possible.

"How sweet."

"And what of you?" Braxton asked. Jareth arched a brow.

"What of me?"

"Yours seems very spritely, young, strong in body. She's certainly attractive. I see good things in your future."

He clasped Jareth by the shoulder in some show of comradery, a feeling which was hardly reciprocated.

Jareth huffed in response.

"I did not marry her for that either," he said, flatly. "I honestly couldn't care less."

One of Braxton's brows arched very sharply at that. Who the hell was this dressed as the King of Goblins?

"Now that is a lie," Braxton said, then playfully shoved him while releasing his shoulder. "You're not exactly young anymore. Surely you put some consideration into this when searching out a human?"

"No. I didn't."

Spoken so readily? Goodness, Braxton thought. What an interesting mood his neighbor was in. It was becoming difficult for Braxton to hold back a laugh.

"How tragic," he said, then turned and slumped back against the wall. "Still, you've surprised me. Why didn't you tell me you were courting in the Above? I would have joined."

"To do what exactly?"

"Who knows," Braxton replied, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. "—appreciate the spectacle, mostly."

Jareth glanced over with a sneer.

"Is that what I've become?"

Braxton's grin arched higher on one side, full of mockery.

"Entirely."

Rather than rebut, Braxton was surprised (and a tad disappointed) when Jareth only shook his head and looked away. Hm. Backing down? That wasn't like him either.

"Your son...he's doing well?" Jareth asked. Braxton, oblivious to any manner of deflection once his bouncing baby boy was mentioned, smiled widely in response.

"Yes, very. I have great hopes for him."

"Great hopes?" Jareth repeated, tightening his crossed arms as he stared out the window. "He's two months old. Beyond surviving, what hopes could you possibly have?"

He said that impulsively, his impatience finally getting the better of him. The silence that quip received made him aware of it. He glanced back at Braxton with a tense jaw.

"Forgive me," Jareth said, a bit awkwardly. "That was crass."

Braxton stared in a gape. Did Jareth...just apologize?

He was so delighted, he immediately forgot whatever offense he might have felt.

"Eh. There's no need. You're probably right," he said, taking a step closer to Jareth and gazing up at the sky. "I've been thinking, my son is only a quarter fae. How capable can he really be? At this rate, my line will become entirely human. Can you imagine? A human sitting on a Council throne?" He glanced at Jareth from his peripheral, who arched a brow in response. Braxton huffed. "Exactly. Work must be done as soon as possible. I won't allow my legacy to be undermined."

Jareth, with a brow furrowing in confusion, turned towards Braxton a little more.

"Then why mate with a human? Surely no heir is better than an inferior one," he said. Braxton shrugged.

"Because I wanted to," he said, plainly. "She delights me. I can't explain it. Just seeing her, let alone touching her...she's fragile, and she needs me. It's astounding how fulfilling it is caring for her."

Jareth's eyes subtly narrowed.

"Yes. You've said."

"Oh, I know how much you hate such talk, but are you not the same?" Braxton asked, looking at Jareth quite coyly. "You who courted in secret and did not marry her for that." He was teasing again. In good nature, admittedly. Still. Jareth felt an odd sense of distaste stewing. "She must be some woman to have snared you so quickly," Braxton went on. "—And here I thought you quite enjoyed Lady Rena's company."

Jareth looked away. Something was really starting to bother him. The way Braxton spoke grated against his ears, but the frustration he felt wasn't directed at him. For whatever reason, he felt it against himself.

He was annoyed and weirdly guilt ridden, and the mention of his and Rena's history made him want to snarl. He had no interest in that, nor a second wife, nor anything that was not Sarah. The mere thought of another woman had become stale and tasteless since knowing her. Even with this wall separating them...she was all he could see.

"Ana seems in fine spirits," Jareth said after a long pause. He was trying to distract himself, deflect once again. It was a good thing Braxton was so vain.

"Oh, you noticed that?" he replied with a shake of the head. "Yes. You'll have to forgive her. She's been having difficulty caring for Bryndon. She's not particularly maternal."

Jareth glanced over with a twisted brow.

"Is Delphine incapable of the task?"

"Please," Braxton said with a huff. "Delphine should have no part in such labors. It was trouble enough having her go through the actual labor. If I could have taken away that responsibility as well, I would have."

Braxton spoke in total nonchalance. Jareth felt his brow drawing even tighter together.

"Ana is raising the child?" he asked. There was alarm in his voice, however subdued. Braxton did not notice it, not that he would have.

"I told you, work must be done as soon as possible. If he cannot be fae in body, he'll certainly be one in mind," he explained.

Jareth's posture became more rigid, his countenance as well.

"Who knew you thought so little of them," he said.

"Excuse me?" Braxton countered. "I adore them. They fascinate me. But, that does not mean they are the same as we." And he turned away to muse at the scenery. "Delphine is...a delicate soul. She needs to be handled gently. A crying newborn would only put wrinkles on her brow. I'd rather they form on Ana."

Jareth stared at him without a blink. He'd always been a bit smothering when it came to Delphine, but...

"And how does Delphine feel about this arrangement?" Jareth asked.

"She is grateful, of course," was Braxton's ready response. "And why wouldn't she be? I've taken away her every burden. She need only enjoy herself now."

Jareth felt his hand tightening at his side, though it was entirely subconscious.

"You really love her, don't you?" —that question was asked in lackluster to mask his rather irate sense of sarcasm. Jareth was feeling legitimately incensed now, but he didn't fully understand it.

Braxton's expression was the definition of heartfelt when he replied,

"I do. More than anything."

And now Jareth's jaw clenched. He was so angry. Seeing that look on Braxton's face and hearing those words made him angry. It confused him. Braxton was the same as he'd always been, but now Jareth could barely stand to be in his company. He'd grown up with this person. Laughed with him. Played with him. Learned with him—

And then he realized what was bothering him. Listening to the way Braxton spoke, to the way he thought, to the way he rationalized his outrageous behavior...it was the same way he would think and speak about Sarah. It was the same. They were the same. It was like looking into a mirror and it...it disgusted him.

He would not have felt any such vexation a year ago, or even six months ago. Had he really changed so much? Was this...really what he'd been like?

Jareth, on the verge of epiphany, was torn clear out of it when a group of figures suddenly wedged themselves between him and Braxton.

"Your Majesties," said a guard. Both Jareth and Braxton turned to meet him, and both were surprised to see Sarah by his side. The guard bowed and left, and Sarah, with a bit of a glare, stared after him. Jareth's attention landed on Mariella just then, who was staring at him with a wide look of dread —something he immediately understood. Fuck.

"Your Majesty. I say, you've surprised me," Braxton said, ignorant to any kind of tension brewing.

Sarah, jutting out a hip, folded her arms and pursed her lips.

"Have I? I was told there was a limit on my time with your wife. You are a stickler for punctuality, right?"

Shit. Jareth knew that tone. She was up in arms, and he now had a pretty good idea over what. He had no idea Braxton's delusions had come this far, otherwise he would have warned her. If he was really keeping that child separated from its mother, then…

Braxton, in ignorance, pulled back his sleeve and peered down at his watch. He smiled in surprise at seeing how late it'd gotten.

"Indeed I am," he said.

Sarah's arms tightened. Jareth watched it happen. He was about to pull her away from Braxton, or rather, remove him from her line of fire, when she looked sharply over at him.

"It's getting late. We should go," she said, tersely. "Thank you for having me in your home, Your Majesty. It's been...a real treat."

She enunciated her words to make them nasty, not at all caring for the decorum she knew to oblige. Seeing her act so flagrantly —towards a fucking king— sent Jareth into an immediate rancor.

She went to turn, just like that, to leave as if that was an acceptable way to dismiss herself.

"Sarah...is that how you address a king? Surely, you have more to say?" Jareth asked, praying she would read between the lines and redeem herself. Surprisingly, she halted mid step.

She'd done well restraining herself, even while storming her way over here. She told herself she would bite her tongue. Play the game. Save it all for Jareth when they got home.

So maybe it was a mood swing that got her. Maybe it was something chemical that told her those words were a challenge. Maybe there'd been a magical flower in Delphine's garden. Or, maybe, it was Jareth's patronizing tone that finally made her snap.

Jareth felt fleeting relief for all of one second, before catching the look of disdain she carried when turning back to Braxton.

"Actually, you're right. I have one question," she said. Braxton, somewhat amused by her little display, quirked a brow as he indulged her.

"Oh? Ask away."

Sarah arched a brow. Oh, that arrogant fucking bastard—

"What right do you have to deny the Queen of Yore access to her child?"

A fit of panic Jareth did not often feel came as a sharp jolt —a reaction aptly reflected in Mariella. Their eyes both widened, staring in horror at Sarah and her sheer act of stupidity.

The smile on Braxton's face remained, though his eyes turned hollow as he asked,

"Come again?"

"Delphine. Her time with Bryndon is also limited," Sarah said, staring brazenly into Braxton's eyes with her feet firmly planted. "It seems my small, human brain cannot comprehend the logic in this. Please, explain it to me, Your Majesty."

Her sarcasm was overbearing and beyond deriding, the tension it sparked felt by everyone except Bryce. No, he took her words at face value, smiling down at her as if he pitied her simple mind.

"Delphine is of a weak constitution," he explained, speaking slowly for her sake. "She overwhelms and falls into morose easily. I ask that she distance herself from any unnecessary burdens."

"You ask?" Sarah repeated, then came a rise— "Do you really?"

"Sarah…" Jareth warned —a look and a word being all he could do. The desire to throw her out the window just to save her from herself was near overwhelming, but this was a situation she controlled. Gods. He hated this circus. She was drawing very near to something very bad. Did she even realize it? More importantly, did she even care?

It seemed not, for what came out of her mouth next was the most audacious thing she could have said.

"I don't like the way you ask, Your Majesty. A mother should be able to see her child whenever she wants. That is the law of this land. You're disrespecting your queen. Disrespecting the Almother—"

Before she could finish, Sarah found herself cut off by Jareth —who'd simultaneously pulled her to him while stepping in front of her. Sarah staggered back, too caught off guard and riled to realize he was making himself her shield.

"Forgive her—'' Jareth said, speaking with a tone that was so fake it sickened her. "She is still learning. Clearly, her lessons have made her confused." He spoke with a smirk, trying to play off the indiscretion as trite. His hand was still tightly clamped around her arm, however, and when he glanced back at her, his glare was as enraged as it was imperative. Sarah felt her chest puff up in reaction, but he ignored her and turned back to Braxton. "She means no affront to you, I swear—"

"Do not speak for me," Sarah snapped, outraged by Jareth's blatant attempt at placation. The audacity of that response earned her a look that could kill, but Sarah was not in any state of mind to heed it. "We are not dolls, not your toys, or your pets," she said and ripped her arm free of Jareth's grip. "I know exactly what I've said, and I stand by it. The one affronted is Delphine." And she looked around Jareth straight at Braxton. "You should be ashamed—"

Her sentence was cut short by a yelp, and she flinched back at a feeling of pain just above her elbow. Jareth had taken hold of her again, this time insistently, and pinched her there before she could condemn both their fates. Sarah, in a look of shock, stared up at Jareth just as he jerked on her arm and shoved her towards Marie.

"Take her back," he said to Mariella, forcing the seal into her hands. "Now."

Mariella's eyes widened, communicating in perfect accordance with Jareth's shrill glare.

"Of course, Your Majesty," she said, and grasped Sarah's arm. She kept her head low and tugged, looking up with pure desperation when Sarah did not move. "Sarah, please. I beg of you," she whispered. The fright glossing her eyes finally hit its mark, leaving Sarah speechless. She stopped resisting and allowed herself to be pulled.

Mariella led her away, and, thankfully, Braxton did not stop her.

Jareth, cursing her and him and himself, turned only when Sarah was out of sight, and, with his head lowered in feigned remorse, closed his eyes in bitter resignation as he addressed the King.

---

Sarah paced around her room restlessly.

Mariella had practically ran away with her through the halls leading back to the roth d'or. She did not speak. Not a word. And it was a state of dread Sarah had never seen her in. She, too, remained quiet —trying her best to ignore the curious glances of gossiping courtiers as they hurriedly passed.

Mariella was apparently capable of operating the door, and sent them both home before she knew it. Once back in the Goblin Kingdom, Sarah tried to pull away and speak, but Mariella's insistence won out. She glanced back only once, with that same terrified look, and said "I need to bring you to your room. Please."

And so she did. And so Sarah, confused and angry and wary, was left all alone. She hadn't expected Marie to leave her there. And yet, she knew exactly why she did.

She was meant to wait for Jareth. To sit and pace and brood about how royally she'd just fucked up. Marie had paused before exiting, sparing her a look of pity before the words, "I'm sorry" were uttered.

If that was meant to mollify, or intimidate her into repentance, it failed. No, in her solitude she only seethed, thinking and thinking and cursing that madman.

And Jareth? Oh, to her, right now, he was just as bad.

Ten or so minutes passed. In-between rants and curses, Sarah wondered what exactly Jareth was doing. What he was saying to undermine her outrage and make her out to be some over-emotional half-wit—

She jumped in surprise when the door to her bedroom suddenly slammed shut.

"How dare you," Jareth said, sounding absolutely livid as he made a b-line straight for her. Sarah glared and rooted her feet to the floor.

"How dare I?" she repeated, her brow raising high.

"Yes," Jareth hissed, standing dangerously close to her and getting right in her face. "How dare you make such a fool out of yourself and I. You are tactless and stupidly narrow minded. You have no idea what you did."

He was shouting at her, angry in a way she hadn't seen in some time. His aggression, however, only encouraged her. She puffed up and yelled right back.

"I know exactly what I did," she snapped. "I called that controlling psychopath out on his bullshit. It's horrible and insane the way he treats her. Is this really the way the world works?" And then she threw up her arms, shaking her head at the heavens. "I don't understand...I don't want to understand how you could stomach calling that man your friend. He treats her like an object. Like a precious little china doll. And that's perfectly acceptable, isn't it? Because it's all in the name of protection and pampering and love. In his eyes, he's caring for her, so it's all justified. Because your people worship women. Ha! Where have I heard that before? It's such a bad joke, it's disgusting."

Her sneer at the end was directed wholeheartedly at him. There was such fury in her eyes —it clearly blinded her. Jareth growled in frustration.

"Do you have any self awareness?" he asked. She'd taken a few steps away from him as she ranted, he was more than happy to fill that gap. "Do you not realize that your actions have consequences? You very nearly sparked a diplomatic incident." A flash of surprise darted across her face, but she denied it before it could root. Jareth had to suppress a distasteful laugh at the sight. "Lest you forget, we are on the brink of opening a transcontinental, commercial passageway —and its success hinges, entirely, on our partnership with Yore."

Sarah started blinking rapidly, her expression utterly confounded —that was not what she was expecting to hear.

"The canal? Seriously? That's what you're so worried about?!" she yelled, her voice getting louder with every word. They were both in each other's face, Sarah with her hands in tight, white-knuckled fists.

Jareth growled again and stepped back, needing to avoid the heated air between them.

"What I'm worried about is the global economy," he said, gritting his teeth at the way her pursed lips twisted. "Your latent ignorance just now completely proves my point. Do you have any idea how much money has gone into that canal? How many hours have gone into negotiations and treaties, how many businesses have been built on the promise that it will open? If Bryce were to retract his participation because you offended him, it would be a disaster." He threw up a hand of his own, taking advantage of the way she stood there in stewing silence. "Thousands, perhaps even millions, of livelihoods would be put in jeopardy. The economic ripple would affect the entire continent. You don't think, Sarah. I understand that you are upset, but you cannot let your emotions run away with you. You are a queen now, and you have bigger responsibilities. You no longer get to speak your mind."

She'd crossed her arms while he was lecturing her, those words all but going in one ear and out the other.

"And what about you?" she countered. "Was that display just now supposed to be your way of assuming responsibility? Hurting and belittling me as a means of damage control?" And then she angled herself away petulantly. "Let me guess, it was to protect me."

"-Yes," Jareth snapped, reaching out and forcefully turning her back to face him. "I did it to protect you." He was holding her by the bicep, staring down at her fiercely. It was all he could do not to throw her into the wall when she literally laughed in his face. "Do you think you've actually helped her?" he asked. "Do you think that foul-mouthed outburst will actually change anything in a way that will help Delphine?"

Their eyes were still locked. He saw the moment the conviction in hers wavered, and pounced.

"Or, is it more likely that Braxton will now suspect his wife of planting treacherous, unflattering thoughts in a foreigner's head? Is it more likely that he will now take away even more freedom from her, keep her under higher surveillance, restrict time with her child even more. He might even be physically punishing her right now."

The widening of her eyes let him know he was finally breaking through. She recoiled from him, her furor stopping dead.

"You spend so much time drawing up arms over precious edicts, you never even stop to think about what actually matters," Jareth went on. "—Let me repeat, you are a queen. Your actions hold consequences not just for yourself, not just for your friends, but for an entire nation and sometimes more. You need to see the bigger picture."

The insecurity he'd created in her turned defensive, compelling her to suddenly tear herself away and yell even louder.

"Why didn't you warn me then? You're friends with that nut job, so you had to have known. Why didn't you give me a heads up on what I was walking into? Did you not think this would bother me?" Her chest was moving faster, emotions other than rage seeping through. There was a little tremble to her voice, but she had no intention of backing down. "Or maybe you did," she went on, trying to turn the argument around on him. "Maybe you thought this would be a good opportunity for me to compare our situations and see just how good I've got it. Is that it? Did you think I'd take the hint quietly?"

Jareth gaped, staring at her like the mere sight of her was absurd.

"You really think I'm that spiteful? After everything?"

"I don't know what to think, Jareth!" she screamed. She was getting upset now. Her voice getting higher and cracking on his name. She thrashed around her hands again and took a step back. A rock formed in her throat as she stared at him. She swallowed it back down. "What if it was me? What would you do?" she asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"Will you confine me to my bed? Leave me alone? Take away all my freedoms? Will you lock me in a room with a bunch of stupid bobbles so our half-human baby can be raised by properly idealized fae!" Her words hit him like bricks, for he honestly had no idea what she was even raving about. That was fine though, she wasn't done yet. "You just said it, didn't you? You can't stand my edicts. My righteous lens. Wouldn't want the next goblin monarch to approach the world with a little bit of compassion, now would we!"

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?" he yelled back, reaching out and grabbing her arm. She was absolutely mad. He needed to get her under control. She fought against him fiercely, which only made him hold on tighter.

"Let go of me!" she demanded. Jareth pulled her forward close to himself, holding her arms up in the space between.

"Calm yourself—"

"Why should I?" she asked, using his hold against him to push away. He did not let go, but staggered back a step. "Or, better question, what if I don't? You going to punish me, Jareth?"

"I'd certainly like to."

"Of course you would," she replied with a bite. "—Because you're all sweet as pie until someone steps out of line. I bet that's what you told him, huh? Smoothed it over with the promise of the undoubtedly thorough punishment you'd give me for getting snippy?"

"Keep it up and I'll punish you for something else entirely."

"Is that a bluff I'm meant to call?" And she stopped her fussing to draw back and glare straight at him. "Fine. I'll take your advice. I fucking dare you."

That challenge sparked something dark, anger building as a shadow on Jareth's eyes so quickly it nearly broke her resolve. He was doing everything he could to hold it back from her. Everything about him tensed —the way his hands slowly squeezed around her wrists a painful warning.

"Tread careful, Sarah dear," he said through a tight jaw. "—lest we forget what this is actually about."

"What this is about is your utterly deplorable perception of what is considered permissible behavior," Sarah replied, not giving a single fuck for the consequences. "That woman is living like a zoo animal. That Woman, that Queen is being denied the right to see her own child. That is an affront to your Alvra. He is committing sacrilege. I don't care how he words it. You should be outraged. You should be on my side. And, instead, here you are with a deathgrip on my wrist threatening to punish me, again."

"Have you even bothered to actually ask what my perception is?" he retorted, his grip loosening from distraction. "Have you considered the possibility that I did not know and that I am outraged? That perhaps my hands are tied by the nuances of diplomacy? No. You're only content to twist the argument into redundancy, label me a malefactor by proxy, and yourself the vicarious victim." And he jerked her forward to stare menacingly into her eyes. "Let me save us both the wasted time and state it plainly —this has nothing to do with us."

Sarah physically drew back at hearing such gall.

"Nothing to do with us? Are you fucking kidding me? It has everything to do with us!" she hollered, and yanked her arms away. "I'm a bride of conquest, aren't I? I'm the wife of a fae. The biggest contribution I can make to this kingdom is to birth your heir, you said that yourself—"

"Please. As if I have any hope for such things, at this point." He cut her off snidely, curling his lip while rolling his eyes. He didn't even bother to reach out for her again. Sarah froze in place.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, why the look of shock?" he mocked her. "Once again, is this conversation not completely pointless? I've already humiliated myself at your feet. Given you that which is forbidden amongst my clan. And I did so because it was what you wanted."

Not expecting the sudden turn in conversation, Sarah felt her anger wavering as her shoulders tensed.

"Yeah. but our deal was for a year. After that—"

"Come now. You really think there was any type of negotiation involved?" Jareth snapped. Sarah shut up. "What the hell would be the point of imposing a deadline? If, come a year, you decide you still cannot stomach the possibility, do you really think I have any other choice than to placate you? You made it abundantly clear what your thoughts are on the subject. So please, rest assured, those quite insulting fears of yours need never apply to us."

The way he was speaking to her was still heated. Still nasty. He hadn't yet realized Sarah had just lost all of her anger. She stood there and stared at him, fighting off the feeling of fear, and insecurity, and upheaval that her rage had been concealing so well.

Her fists shook at her sides. No. She needed to stay tough just a little bit longer.

"But they do. They do apply," she said, her voice weak and quivering. The sound only frustrated Jareth further. He growled and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Where is this even going? It's not a talk we need to have. Why do you care so much?"

He was exasperated, completely losing sight of how this argument even began. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying not to claw his hand down his face.

Sarah teetered on her heels, trying to maintain her stance as nerves swept in.

"Really? You honestly have no idea?" she asked. Jareth peered over at her. "You can't sense it?" He stared at her dubiously. She bit down on her lip. "That tea you gave me —it's real?"

She was staring at him with rounded eyes like she was on the verge of tears, that meek little voice the polar opposite of what it had been just a moment ago. The look on her face offended him, bringing his anger back in full force.

"You think I gave you a fake?" he asked, taking a dangerous step towards her. "You think that these last months together, that all of this, right now, is me lying?" He gestured arbitrarily at the space around them, the tenor of his voice rising rapidly. "You think, after everything I've said and done, that breeding you is what matters to me?"

He was furious. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him so upset. She did not anticipate it, hadn't thought that question would offend him so severely.

Without her anger as a backbone, she actually started to cower under the weight of his glare.

"I...I think the idea of you still keeping secrets scares the hell out of me, Jareth," she said, forcing out the words as clearly as possible. "But...the idea that you aren't lying is also terrifying because…"

"Because what?"

"Be...because…then I have no idea how it happened," she said, darting her eyes left and right as she searched for composure. "Because..." and she bit her lip until the skin split. "Because...I'm pregnant."

She'd closed her eyes as she said that, stood stock still bracing for a physical blow. What she received, however, was stark silence. She opened her eyes and tensed her hands, having no fucking idea how to read the petrified stare he was giving her.

A long second passed as they stared at each other —a sole thump of Sarah's heart resounding loudly in her ears.

"What?" he asked.

That word was her condemnation. Or, at least, that's how it felt. She swallowed and felt her heart drop into her stomach. So, she'd finally said it. This was it...

She planted her feet and raised her chin as she stared him straight in the eye.

"You heard me," she said, feigning confidence. "So...you see...those fears do apply. It has everything to do with us."

Her voice shook on every word, but the worst part had to be over. She'd told him. He knew. It was done. And yet...he wasn't saying anything.

An agonizing silence spread between them. Sarah waited with trembling shoulders, and then, finally, he spoke.

"...I don't believe you."

Sarah blinked. It was like she'd been struck. She stood there, dumbfounded and bewildered, as those words gradually processed. His stare on her had become guarded, odious. It was so unbelievable, she no longer needed anger as a crutch.

"What?" she asked in sheer disbelief. "You don't believe me? Because this is something I would lie about?!"

Her voice peaked as a shriek, a pitiful, frustrated falsetto. She grimaced and gritted her teeth, but he did not respond. No, his look on her only hardened. She was beside herself. Totally beside herself.

"Well, let me prove it to you then," she said and stomped over a few paces to sit on the end of her bed. "I have been so strung out trying to keep my pheromones in check. Maybe this will bring some relief," she continued, crossing her arms and glaring away from him. "Let me know when it hits you."

She was silent after that, focusing on her mental door and the signals she wanted to convey. A minute or so passed. She had no idea if she was successful. Spitefully, she peered back at Jareth, her side eye cutting him like a dagger as she waited.

He did not speak, but the look in his eye could have burned her. Another moment passed, and then another, and then...he tensed. And then he twitched. And then it hit him.

"Well?" Sarah asked, arching a brow. "Am I lying?"

She kept her posture defensive when he suddenly inhaled, when the look in his eye turned even more searing and the dark aura once surrounding him vanished into nothing. His breathing had picked up —just enough to make it noticeable, and he took a step forward as if to reach out for her.

"Sarah…"

"No," she said, commanded, raising a stern hand between them. Jareth paused. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare take another step closer, and don't you dare say my name all tender like you weren't just contemplating throwing me against the wall and spanking me with your belt."

To her shock, he obeyed. He stood there and stared at her like a dog. Like a helpless thing whose world was crumbling around him. The change was so visceral it disgusted her. —That was the only emotion strong enough to hold back her tears.

"Or maybe that's why?" she said, turning spiteful in a means of self preservation. "Laying hands on a pregnant woman is a capital offense, isn't it? Even for a king? Maybe that's why your tone has changed so suddenly. A call to the guards, and I could have that hand for a candy dish."

Despite her hopes, a well of tears built on her eyes. The sound of her own voice was pathetic. She was pathetic. And so was he, daring to stare back at her with the exact same, heartbroken look.

She huffed and glared away, squeezing her arms until her nails dug in.

"But no. I'm not like that. I don't threaten people and hurt them as reprimand," she said. She was staring out her window, glowering in profile. A tear escaped her eye on the side he could not see. Her lower lip pouted as she compulsively wiped it away.

She heard Jareth take another step towards her, and went rigid.

"I said no," she repeated, then glared over at him shamelessly. She hated the way she must look. She hated the way he was looking at her. "Just...just go. Leave." And she closed her eyes in a look of pain and she turned away again. "I don't want to be anywhere near you."

She was so angry. So hurt. It was so painful she couldn't stand it. She hated being in the same room with him, and yet, she was near desperate to be swept up in his arms. To be coddled and told it was okay, that she was right, that he was sorry, that she had nothing at all to fear.

More tears escaped as she waited for that to happen, as she berated herself for how badly she wanted it. He'd told her before, he would not leave her while she was upset —even if she hated him for it.

Well, here she was. So...where was he?

When no touch came, she looked back and felt a hollowness build inside that she could not place.

Because she was upset.

Because he was gone.

Just...gone.

---

A/N- Double Oof. What a cliffhanger, amiright?

There are (what I consider to be) four major events in this story. This next chapter will be the third. It's something I've literally been waiting years to write, so I'm very excited. Thanks for waiting so patiently. I promise it will be worth it ;*