Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

AN Yes, immortalwizardpirateelf-fan, you're correct! The Elvish I have chosen to use is that of J.R.R. Tolkien, and for several reasons. First of all, J.R.R. Tolkien is a God, and should be revered as such. I would much rather use his idea of Elvish than make one up of my own because his is flawless. Now let me tell you that these translations are by NO means completely correct or accurate, but they are close enough to merit use. Secondly, I thought that people might recognize Tolkien's Elvish and be able to correct me if I made a mistake, etc. That and they'd be more familiar with it. So there are some of the reasons I chose to use someone else's language instead of making up my own. Should I ever decide to change this novel to suit my own characters and have it published, I will, of course, change it.

CHAPTER 3: Sweet Surrender

It doesn't mean much

It doesn't mean anything at all

The life I've left behind me

Is a cold room

I've crossed the last line from where I can't return

Where every step I took in faith

Betrayed me and led me from my home and

Sweet, sweet surrender

Is all that I have to give

You take me in

No questions asked

You strip away the ugliness that surrounds me

Are you an angel

Am I already gone

I only hope that I won't disappoint you

When I'm down here on my knees

Sweet, sweet surrender

Is all that I have to give

And I don't understand

By the touch of your hand

I would be the one to fall

I miss the little things

Oh, I miss everything

It doesn't mean much

It doesn't mean anything at all

The life I've left behind me

Is a cold room

Sarah McLachlan Sweet Surrender

Sarah, having finished giving directions to the goblinette about the changes that were to be made in her wardrobe, walked into her huge closet and looked around. Inside the closet were two gargantuan chests, which would be used to store clothes from previous fashions that Sarah wished to keep – the rest would be discarded – and above each of them were four racks which held her current wardrobe. The four racks on the right were reserved strictly for dresses and costumes for balls and other social events that required skirts. On the left, everyday clothes and riding outfits of every color, shade and design imaginable hung for her selection. Each was tailored to fit Sarah perfectly, and she wondered if she would even be able to wear all of them before the next fashion wave came in and they were destroyed completely to make way for the new fad.

In the end, she selected a deep green silk tunic that belted at her waist and flared down to mid-thigh with huge, billowy sleeves. The neckline ducked modestly to just at her breasts, and was bordered with silver runes. She chose a pair of form-fitting, khaki-colored breeches of a soft and smooth material she couldn't identify to go with it, and quickly slipped them on. She walked out of her closet and admired herself in the mirror of the new bureau that the goblins had brought in.

Looking down, she saw a message written in graceful, sloping handwriting. She picked up the heavy parchment and was delighted with a light, lilac scent. It read:

Dear Sarah,

I am writing to invite you into the village for an afternoon of shopping with me. Jareth will not rest until you own the best of everything, and has sent word to his personal jeweler to show you his best items. Other than the natural, womanly desire to shop, I am sure that you have some questions to ask about your current situation, as well as questions about the Underground in general. I am also obliged to explain to you some of the laws and prejudices that make it absolutely necessary for you to keep your nature a secret from everyone but our small circle of friends. Meet me in my room when you have finished with the clothes I have sent for you to look at. Jareth was about to demand more, but I imposed and told him that you couldn't possibly wear everything you have now in the next two years. He reluctantly agreed, and so I've saved you for the moment, but don't think that he won't try to find some other way to lavish extravagance on you. My suggestion is to throw this note in the fire once you've read it, for fear of it being discovered.

Yours Eternally,

Raven

Sarah finished with the letter and smiled before tossing it into the fire as instructed. A shopping trip would be wonderful and therapeutic, and she was looking forward to finally getting some of her questions answered. She smoothed her tunic once more before walking out.

She looked both ways, wary of meeting any of her morning's companions before strolling down the hallways toward the other woman's room. She knocked briefly as she entered, to find the diminutive female sitting patiently through the ministrations of a small goblin who was applying gentle tones of light purple to Raven's eyelids.

"Sit down Sarah; I'll only be a minute more." Sarah did as she was instructed, settling down on midnight blue sheets. She reached behind her and grasped a sunflower yellow throw pillow, which she clutched to her chest. She watched as the goblinette finished and Raven said, "That will be all, Resa."

The goblin bowed and left, and Raven turned to Sarah. "That's much more like it, isn't it?" She asked sympathetically, looking at Sarah's clothing.

"Yes, I have to say it is. Oh," Sarah reached behind her and grabbed a stack of neatly folded clothes, "I wanted to return your outfit from earlier. Thank you for lending it to me."

"It was nothing. Just lay them on the bed and Resa will get them when we leave." Raven eyed Sarah's neckline. "Since you have no jewelry of your own as yet, I think I can do something for you." She turned to the wall and traced a rune on it. A door appeared before her, and she went through, emerging seconds later with something glittering in her hands.

"There's one good thing that's come from Ter's little fling with the Countess of Rel – she leaves her jewelry in his room and never thinks of it again. Sort of a trophy for every time… Never mind." She didn't finish that thought, but instead came up to Sarah with two costly-looking trinkets in her hands. One was a necklace – two bands of platinum wound together, with oval shaped diamonds set between each joint. The other was a matching tiara, the kind that clipped into her hair and hung high on her forehead.

Sarah shook her head after Raven settled the diadem on her brow, loving the cool feel of the tear-shaped gemstone on her skin. "I feel just like a princess," she said laughingly.

Raven rolled her eyes and sighed. "If you feel like a princess in that, I'd hate to see what you would feel like in one of her more extravagant pieces. Or, worse yet, what you're going to feel like when the jeweler is through with you. Are you ready to go?"

Sarah nodded again, enjoying the sensation of the jewel bouncing, and followed Raven out of the room. As they strolled through the hallways and out into the sunny courtyards, they talked.

"Right now, Jareth and Ter are in a war council with Jareth's top advisors. Normally, I'd be there with them, but all they do is argue, and I just didn't feel like listening to it at the moment. Besides, my being a woman makes the old men angry that I'm allowed to even sit in." She laughed heartily over that. "Sometimes I whisper things to Jareth and Ter just to get a rise out of them."

"And who are Jareth's top advisors?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, I don't know. There are twenty of them, all told, and if they ever had names they've long since forgotten them, living as they do among the dusty tomes in the library. They never seem to sleep, but travel around the castle in a teeming clump much like a flock of migrating birds, smelling of dirt, old clothes and living death. It's a wonder they're alive at all. Jareth is nearly fed up with them, and I think he's about to dismiss them from service altogether. In my opinion, the only reason they remain yet bound to this world is their pledge to aid Jareth, and should he dismiss them they would merely disintegrate to dust."

Sarah cast her eyes down, "Oh. Well, why's he in a war council anyways? Who's attacking?"

Raven smiled at that. "Jareth, being the High King's son, is thought of among the other kingdoms as a spoiled brat with no idea what he's doing. Many believe that he's much too young to rule a kingdom on his own, and many others feel that he's a fool. And the fact that Jareth sheltered us when Teriel and I had that slight falling out with our father didn't help the public's opinion of him. Everyone else felt we should've been dutiful children and obediently followed Daddy's orders." Her sweet smile turned to a scowl, and she continued, "There are those who would dethrone Jareth, divide the Goblin Kingdom up between them, and take the spoils for themselves. The whole thing started out as a simple dispute over the repayment of a debt. No, wait, let me back up."

"The Goblin Kingdom lies on the eastern border of civilization. The beach we rode on today isn't the beach of an ocean, as you might believe, but the boundary of a huge sea, the Arauka Draug Sea, or the Swift Wolf Sea, named after the SwiftWolf, the first ship to navigate that body of water. That sea stretches along almost the entire western border, and is a major trade route for all the kingdoms who share its edges. Everything north of here, extending all the way to the border between the Goblin Kingdom and the Pixie Kingdom, is farmlands and villages. The Pixies are bordered on the north by the Serke Mountains, and farther than that lays either the palaces or the frozen corpses of the Elves. East of us is nothing but woodland that also ends at the Serke Mountains, which continue down from their northern wastelands all the way past the southern border. No axe has ever touched or fire burned that forest, though many have tried to destroy it. Most of the goblins believe it's a wood haunted by the vengeful souls of the long-departed Elves, and that to venture under its dark canopy is to invite death. To the south, a long stretch of empty, desolate grassland and a vast desert separates Jareth from the southern kingdoms."

Sarah nodded, picturing in her mind her beautiful view of the countryside from that morning, and figured that the breakfast room pointed north. They had reached the stables by then, and Raven paused in her explanation so their horses could be made ready and brought to them. Orome trotted up, followed by N'Uma Esse, and the women quickly set off in the direction of the town.

"A small province ruled by an enterprising individual lies directly to the south, within the desert." Raven continued, "He styles himself King Darius, though he is not a king. Instead, he is a short, rotund human who happened to perform a service to the High King in a time of crisis. As a gift for his services, the High King awarded Darius a bit of desert land and the right to stay in the Underground and do with it as he pleased. Darius took full advantage of this, and he built a small village around an oasis, which later became a metropolis. He dubbed his city New Rome, and it became a gathering place for criminals and shady characters, as well as a popular meeting ground for those rulers who want to discuss 'unofficial' business. It does more than well, and brings in a considerable amount of money to Darius's coffers."

"During the Long Night's War, which was less a war but more a campaign to put down a large band of miscreant vampires, Jareth was put in charge of an operation to infiltrate and destroy their main stronghold located at the northern edge of the desert. Jareth took his soldiers to the location, but someone had informed the vampires of his plans and they had set up an ambush. Jareth was badly outnumbered, and it looked like he was going to lose, when Darius arrived, leading several hundred pirate thugs brandishing liquid fire into the fray. It worked, and the vampires surrendered, though ever since his debt to the ugly little beast has hung over Jareth's head like a black cloud."

"Just recently, Darius has resurfaced from his den of sin to the south to demand that Jareth pay for the service rendered back then, if you will. Jareth was delighted with this idea, and would have willingly cut off his sword arm and presented it to the human with a red bow around the wrist, just to lift that weight. However, Darius demanded nothing so simple. He instead insisted that Jareth marry his youngest daughter – Ta'en, named after the Third – the Goddess of Song."

A strange look came over Sarah's face when she heard this, but the expression was fleeting and in an instant she turned to Raven with a mischievous countenance. "Tell me about her, Raven. I want to know everything so I can tease Jareth when I return."

The elfin woman sharply shook her head. "No, I'm afraid it wouldn't be wise to mention any of this to Jareth. His refusal of the marriage proposal started all of this nonsense, which is now threatening to become full-on war, but I'm getting ahead of myself again."

"Ta'en is beautiful, do not doubt it. She has long silken hair the ginger of a thousand sunsets, eyes the blush pink of fine wine, and the perfect, creamy complexion of milk. I have met few who could match her in their outward beauty. However, the moment she opens her full lips with their perfect teeth, the rest becomes obsolete. She is spoiled, loud and obnoxious, with the temperament of a maddened calf. She has an opinion of everything, yet she knows nothing herself. She is insolent and completely unworthy of the time and efforts of any but the lowest scum of society. Being brought up as a daughter of Darius, she has been exposed to more shady lowlifes than you or I combined will ever meet in our entire existences, and she's had affairs with more than her fair share of them."

Sarah grimaced at this. "It sounds like I'm back in high school again!"'

Raven ignored that comment because she was unfamiliar with the term "high school", but instead continued. "Darius's other children, all female and all as beautiful as Ta'en, have similar traits, though none of them are quite as wild or as impertinent as the young cretin. Two of them have been married off to the younger sons of several Minor Kingdoms, while the remaining three live at home and practice Gods only know what kind of crazed voodoo."

"Jareth did refuse, didn't he?" Sarah looked almost fearfully at Raven. "No favor is worth that kind of hell."

Raven smiled and nodded, a look of relief in her eyes. "There's something else you probably don't know, Sarah. Just as the elves before us, when Fae marry, it is a lifetime affair. Once a Fae has been married, should something happen to his spouse, he is unable to marry again. He is also supposed to be celibate, and think of no other Fae, but in this day and age it goes on rather behind the Council's back. The whole system works well for the general Fae populace, though, because marriage is not taken lightly, and if two Fae do marry, should some horrible accident befall the other, the living partner generally never desires to mate again. However, nobility is another case altogether."

"Most royal Fae are married before birth by their parents to gain the greatest worldly advantages. The High King, thankfully, was smarter than that. Jareth has been given almost the entire prime of his life to choose a mate – unfortunately, he hasn't had much success. Dulsinea would have and should have been his wife, but Jareth was a young fool at the time and… We won't go into that anymore."

"Anyways, Jareth has not found a woman fit to be Queen by his side in all these years, and the time of reckoning draws nigh. If he cannot find a bride by his birthday two years hence, then The High King shall choose one for him."

Sarah grimaced at the fact that all of these people were so much older than she. Even Raven, as young and active as she appeared, was several millennia old. "Just how old is Jareth, Raven?"

Seeing the girl's anxiety on her face, the Fae simply replied, "By human reckoning, I would say he was twenty-four." At a look from Sarah, she added, "That answer must satisfy you, dear, because I'm not prepared to give another."

Sarah waved a hand negligently and said, "Continue with your explanation, Raven. I will need to know these things eventually if I am to stay here."

"There is not much left to tell, and thankfully so because we near the city. With Jareth's refusal to wed Ta'en, he made a powerful enemy of Darius. One would not imagine that someone so low in social standing could ever be a threat to the heir to the High Throne, but he has learned a thug's ways from his hooligan attendants. He has spread rumors and discord in The High Court, and continues to weary Jareth to no end. To make matters worse, several of the bordering kingdoms, in hearing of this falling out have joined Darius in attempting to start a war, to see some of Jareth's lands handed to them and his money in their own coffers. Jareth has been in meetings with his top advisor and representatives from all of the bordering kingdoms for months, but through some unknown means they never seem to get anywhere. And then you arrived, Sarah."

"What have I to do with it?"

"For a human, you're quite unusual, my dear. Your outer appearance is more Elven than most Fae I know, and the longer you stay here, the more accustomed you become to the habits of a noblewoman, rather than a middle class human. It's almost as if your physical features are changing to fit the role we're asking you to play, as well, but that's beside my point. You have an inner strength and confidence not easily rivaled, not to mention that you beat Jareth at his own game. That alone would be enough to send you down in history, but you have captured Jareth's attentions and quite possibly his heart. News of your arrival has spread like wildfire through the court, as well as rumors of your race. All of the women sent here as Jareth's potential brides, of course, have noticed you, whether you saw them or not, and have reported back to their various fathers and brothers and uncles what they have seen and heard. You look Fae enough for the part, but Sarah is an undeniably human name, and you have a pronounced Aboveground accent, though you are quickly picking up our mannerisms and speech patterns, thankfully."

"Well, what's so wrong with me being human?" Sarah demanded, obviously offended.

"When the Elves ruled the land, they frequently brought many humans through the rift to work here as slaves. They were treated horribly, and quickly succumbed to our diseases, many of which are not known Aboveground. After the Elves were banished, the few remaining humans were returned to their homes and families after their memories were erased, and the Council decided that all ties with humans would be forthwith severed. It has ever since been illegal to harbor a human adult in the Underground for more than twenty-four Aboveground hours. Jareth ran a great risk bringing you here, and chances ruin and possibly death by keeping you."

A sober look came across Sarah's face, and they rode in silence the rest of the way.

The city was clean and well ordered with all the charm of a medieval castle town and none of the filth. Small goblins ran rampant in the streets, chasing balls and any other instrument they could find to entertain themselves while their mothers gossiped over the wash and their fathers worked. Sarah followed Raven through the small residential area and into a large, brick-paved square. Small designs carved on the wood of each door indicated the occupation and other necessary facts of the business within, but Sarah could not read the script.

"To your right is a furrier, Sarah," the now familiar voice whispered in her head. "And ahead of you is the jeweler. And back in the corner is a clothier. You know the characters; all you have to do is look."

Sarah glanced up reluctantly and saw that as if by magic she did understand the writing carved into the doors, and it scared her more than she would admit even to herself.

"After we visit the jeweler, Sarah, we must visit the Feather Shop, for no respectable Fae would be caught dead without her fan, and you must look the part."

Sarah raised an eyebrow at this while they dismounted.

"Ah, I guess you know nothing of this." She lowered her voice and looked around her, "It is the latest Fae fashion to advertise your social and marital status through a fan, which all females carry. Generally, married women choose their feathers to match the colors of their houses, or occasionally to match their dress. However, all noble females that are unmarried or are seeking diversions from their normal routines use feathers to advertise their interests. Firstly, any Fae with more than one color in her fan is either married or promised, while a solid fan has an encrypted message. A lady with white feathers is completely uninterested in anything beyond the normal social niceties, while a woman with red feathers is looking for a passionate diversion. Purple feathers express a desire for money while yellow feathers are looking for a humorous companion or two to entertain. Sapphire feathers show a desire for something long-lasting while emerald feathers say that their possessor is taken. And, of course, you should choose the fabric and style of your dress to match the message displayed by your feathers at the event."

"Ah." Was all Sarah could say, as she followed the raven-haired woman into the shop which proudly displayed 'Jeweler' on its door.

The interior was close, illuminated by an almost blinding light, its emerald green walls seeming to press down on her. A small, shriveled goblin sat behind a cluttered desk, squinting at a large pink stone, its flat planes and pure depths highlighted by the strong light emitting from a glass globe behind it. Raven cleared her throat softly, and the ancient creature looked up. His expression was that of a crotchety old man who had been rudely interrupted, and he grudgingly reached behind him to tap the globe, which immediately dampened its intensity to a tolerable level. He blinked several times and then a dawning light crept over his prune-like face. He rose quickly, wincing as ancient joints popped and cracked, and hobbled over to lovingly take Raven's hand.

"It's been a while, my dear!" He exclaimed, excitement apparent in his still-bright eyes. "What can I get for you today? There's a beautiful amethyst I've kept hidden from the rest of the rabble, just waiting for you." He started to lead her toward a curtain covered door, but she stopped him.

"No, Emil, it's not me here to shop today." She turned to look at Sarah, who stood slightly behind her.

The old man studied her, his eyes lingering on her jeweled necklace and tiara before whispering rather loudly, "She certainly isn't the Countess of Rel though she wears her jewelry. Is she Jareth's?"

At a nod from Raven, he relinquished her hand and shuffled back to Sarah. As he intently studied her hands, Raven cast an apologetic glance in Sarah's direction, seeing the look of hurt in her eyes.

"Well, I've definitely seen worse," the old man finally said, and pulled Sarah toward the velvet curtain while Raven followed quietly behind.

The curtains parted to reveal a cavernous room, cream plush carpet and beige walls, with organized shelves that reminded Sarah of nothing more than a huge library. They ranged to the ceiling, covered the walls, and lined in organized rows all along the floor. Instead of dusty tomes, however, each emerald shelf held small drawers with illegible labels and complicated locks. Long wooden ladders ranged the walls and the individual shelves, rollers attached to almost invisible tracks in the carpeting. Three other doors exited the room, one on each wall, and Sarah guessed that they led to similar storage areas.

They followed Emil to the center of the room, to a broad square of carpet absent of shelves, fitted with a glossy cherry-wood table and several chairs. "Please, sit down ladies, and I shall be back in a moment." He hobbled away, squinting at the labels on several drawers, opening some but never removing their contents.

"I'm sorry for earlier," Raven whispered, "but if I hadn't agreed with him he wouldn't have brought you back here. He only accepts the wealthiest of the nobles as customers, and I'm sorry but here, without Jareth, you're nothing more than a pauper."

The words stung Sarah's ego, but they sadly rang true. She choked back her pride and nodded stiffly. Now to see what extravagance Jareth's acquaintance has won me, she thought bitterly.

The ancient goblin returned promptly, balancing five of the drawers on his arms. He lined each one on the table, and looked expectantly at Sarah.

She hesitantly reached out and drew the closest one to her, peering down into its velvet lined contents. Inside was a small, intricately carved, eight pointed star, fashioned from a single emerald, it appeared, and suspended on a tiny, delicate platinum chain. She gingerly lifted it and peered at it, before turning to the goblin. "It's absolutely breathtaking!"

The ancient creature beamed despite himself, and gestured to the others, which she inspected as well. Inside the next was a gold ring, set with a small, square-cut pink diamond. The other drawers contained a set of garnet earrings, a yellow gold and emerald tiara, and a tiny amethyst ring set in white gold. Raven held up her own pinky, which displayed the same ornament. "Consider it a gift from me, dear," she smiled.

"Well, are they all satisfactory; are there any you don't like?"

"No, they're all perfect beyond my wildest imaginings," Sarah replied, and made to stand up, as if to go. The pressure of Raven's hand on her leg made her sit back down, and the goblin disappeared, only to soon return with more boxes.

Almost two hours later, the two women stumbled out of the shop into the bright midmorning light, Raven sporting a new amethyst bracelet that she hadn't been able to talk Emil out of. Sarah had been loaded down with necklaces, pendants, earrings, tiaras, rings, bracelets and any other bit of jewelry she could imagine, before the old goblin had taken each individual piece, placed it gingerly in its box, and promised to have it delivered.

The sun hung heavily overhead, and the temperature promised a midday heat wave. They strode confidently across the courtyard toward the Feather Shop, and stayed there until well after noon, Sarah selecting different colors, clips and bases to create her fans. She had two white fans made, the long, soft plumes winking at her innocently from their stately platinum clips, while several yellow feathers waved languidly from their light, silver clips, a single set of emerald plumes stood at attention from an ebony clip. Raven had shaken her head when she saw Sarah's selection, and disappeared among the aisles of extravagant feathers. She returned with one red set with a bone base, a black set into gold, and every other color of the rainbow imaginable. As she passed Sarah, she snatched the girl's previous selections and piled them on top as well. "Can't have anyone suspicious, can we dear?" She whispered as the goblinette at the counter gave the human a knowing wink.

The rest of the day they spent in the other shops, browsing at their leisure. At Raven's insistence, Sarah ordered four light cloaks, one in deep, rich amber, one of light, silver grey, one of soft, verdant green and the last in the darkest black she could find. In addition, she had several thick, winter cloaks made at the Furrier, each one lined with soft, downy fur with hats, gloves and boots to match. As they exited the shop, a small black, white and grey kitten marched out from behind a neighboring tree and crossed their path. It stopped directly in front of them and sat with a determined air. Sarah reached down to stroke it before they continued to the Clothier, where Raven had several new outfits made for herself.

Energies exhausted and appetites piqued, they whistled for their horses as they discussed the day's purchases. The kitten, so tiny and very rail thin, raced across the court, scrabbling up the back of Sarah's breeches and perching comfortably on her shoulder before she had time to react. Laughing, she gently pried it from her shoulder and set it gingerly on the ground.

It looked up at her with unnervingly sapphire eyes, its gaze almost piercing her innermost thoughts. Marching deliberately forward, it sat on her foot, its weight warm and soft on her shoe.

She cast a helpless look at Raven, who only shrugged. "Maybe it likes you? You should take it back with you – I think it's adorable, and it will be quite a surprise for Jareth."

Sarah bent down to pick up the tiny creature, its fuzzy warmth trembling in her hands. She brought it to eye level and returned its unnerving gaze. Embarrassing as it was, she was the first to look away, and sought an ample distraction to keep her mind from the azure eyes boring holes in her. She instead studied its markings, which were indeed a diversion. It looked as if the kitten had angered a crazy, drunken painter in the midst of mixing a grey for his canvas. It had frenetic and completely random smatterings of white, black and various shades of grey all over its body in equal proportions.

The poor, defenseless kitten sported a long, black stocking on its front right leg, a short, charcoal grey sock on its left front leg that faded quickly into white, while it's back right and left legs were pale grey and black, respectively. One grey ear flicked at her from a mostly black face, though white spattered from its muzzle as though a bowl of milk had exploded in its face and covered the right ear in a large patch. A grey area around the left cerulean eye completed the pattern, while its tail was an indecipherable conglomeration of a white base, a tiny grey splotch, and a ragged black tip. The poor thing sported overly-large, awkward paws that seemed to have a few too many toes, and eyes the color of sapphires sparkling brilliantly in the sun.

As she continued to study it, the creature gave a faint, ragged purr and Sarah couldn't resist. She nodded assent at Raven with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. Stroking its face gingerly, she crooned to it as she smoothed out the short fur. Gradually, under her careful ministrations, its purring grew more steady, and it nestled in her arms as comfortably as if it had belonged there all of its short life.

Promptly, Orome trotted up, followed by N'Uma Esse, and they were off toward the castle, two women satisfied after a long day of shopping.

Jareth inwardly sighed as the dark-haired man in front of him began to list figures and facts that Jareth had no hope of following. They'd been at this all morning, and at the rate they were going, would be at it well into the night. Jareth honestly didn't see where any of what these people had been saying mattered. They couldn't force him to marry, couldn't force him to be their ally, couldn't force him to give up the lands and rights that went with his kingdom! They fought and squabbled over what he would do with his life just as his father did. It was ridiculous, and the thought of a war starting over this nonsense revolted the Goblin King to no end.

"Yes," he interjected coolly into the man's break for air, "but what has King Leon's decreased trade with the Pixies have to do with me conceding him rights to my waterways?" Had the world gone mad? The thought drifted up unbidden as the man shuffled his papers, looked sufficiently ruffled and then launched into another tirade, his nasal tone droning like the not-so-subtle buzzing of an angry beehive.

Jareth's calm voice sliced through the man's like a hot knife through butter. "Go back to your king and you tell him if he thinks for one minute that I'm weak or vulnerable due to this intrigue with Darius, he's finally gone senile. And until you can come up with something better than this," he gestured at the huge ream of papers on the table between them, "Don't return and waste my time. Or better yet, don't come back at all. You're dismissed."

He rubbed his temples as the indignant man gathered his figures to him and stiffly stalked out of the door. A nasty headache was building up right behind his eyes, and he knew he'd feel its ravages later. Nothing an innocent celvassy couldn't cure, but later, when he was alone and didn't need clear thoughts. Not that he'd had many lately. There was a constant subtle buzzing in his brain that kept him from concentrating, like a human saw had taken up residence in his head. It had appeared recently, just after Sarah had arrived.

Sarah – now there was a thought worth entertaining! He was pleased with himself for his achievements in her wardrobe and jewelry. She had seemed genuinely pleased with it, as Emil had reported, and that was enough for Jareth. He had sent for the horse merchant, which would be here later this evening with another of Jareth's presents.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts before calling out, "Next!" and bent back to the crisis at hand. This time a tall blond boy strode in, though Jareth wasn't fooled by its Fae appearances. This was a merman, and the straits must have been dire indeed to call them from their contemplations at the depths of the sea.

"Jareth," he said quietly, and the Goblin King recognized the boy as the Mer-Prince, whom he had met at a royal banquet just last year. He had genuinely liked the boy, but thought that he took everything around him way too seriously.

"What brings you here, Pieter? I thought that your father had declared himself neutral in this horrid affair."

"That's just it, Jareth, we are neutral. As neutral as we can be, that is, when Darius's marauders are raiding and polluting our kingdom."

The Goblin King blinked. This was not what he had expected. "I had not thought the repulsive little ghoul had sunk that low. You say he's raiding your kingdom do you?"

A grim nod from the boy. "That's why father has sent me to you to offer our services, humble as they may be, in putting down this human." There was a wretched silence before he continued. "And I am to be the leader of our troops."

Jareth understood now. It was just as much a test for the boy as assistance for the Goblin King, and Pieter didn't like it. It was understandable.

"Well, Pieter, why don't you go down to Siri's office and see if she can't put you and your men up for a while. And on your way out, send someone else in."

The merman hesitated. "I'm afraid to say this Jareth, but there aren't any others. Many of them have left the kingdom completely, and I'm afraid that does not bode well for your cause."

Jareth nodded tiredly. "I know Pieter. I suppose it's almost time to pay father a visit. Court should go in session fairly soon, and I want to show my new Lady all of the sights and wonders, as well as demand my father stop this nonsense." He gave the boy an enigmatic smile.

"Is it true Jareth? Have you found love at last?" There was a pregnant pause and then, "Is she really a – a," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "human?"

Jareth tried for a robust laugh, but even to his own ears it fell short. So the court did know about her then? Well, his father and every other Fae in the Kingdom be damned, he would not let her go. "Don't believe everything you hear, boy. Now run along, I'm sure Siri's wondering why there are troops in the courtyard."

He ordered a glass of red wine from the kitchens as he watched Pieter retreat. He could sense Sarah and Raven drawing closer and closer to the castle, and smiled to himself.

As they rode happily into the courtyard, Raven noticed two major things amiss. Firstly, There were considerable number of troops lined in ranks, facing the castle, and secondly Dondre the horse-merchant was desperately fighting to stay astride a huge, red beast that reminded Raven more of a dragon than a horse. Gesturing to Sarah to stay back, she rode up to what looked like the commander of the troops.

"State your business," she snarled, hoping to catch him off-guard.

"Captain Oser, at your service ma'am. These are the troops sent by his majesty King Alev to aid King Jareth in his fight against Darius."

"Ah," she replied, and saw Siri shuffle out of a side door. The woman did not look happy at having to house this many troops, and rightly so. Her fears quelled, she motioned Sarah to follow her and rode swiftly over to Dondre.

As soon as they approached the huge beast calmed itself, and the Fae was able to dismount. "Thank you Raven, I don't know what I would've done without you!" He exclaimed breathily as he sagged against her horse. Raven quickly dismounted, followed by Sarah.

"What is this monstrosity, Dondre? Look at it! No Fae in their right mind would ride that thing. It would trample them or eat them, whichever opportunity presented itself first!"

The horse snorted as if it heard and understood her and the merchant backed away. "Yes, well, unfortunately, it is now yours. Or rather, it belongs to a woman named…" He shuffled some papers in his hand before coming up with the right one, "Sarah!"

"That's impossible!" She cried, but soon trailed off as she saw Sarah warily approaching it, the kitten draped around her neck for all the world like a fuzzy scarf. The beast eagerly trotted forward to meet her questing hand, its huge head butting her. She gently stroked its mane and crooned to it much as she had the kitten, and it let itself be stroked.

Dondre shook his head and laughed. "When we were told to breed a horse for the woman, I expected something small, grey and easily controlled from Jareth's description of her. When this thing came out, I would have put it down if I didn't know that these things never failed. And look, it is matched to her!"

Indeed, it seemed as complacent as N'Uma Esse, its huge nose questing forward to sniff the kitten, who flexed its paws in warning. Sarah confidently walked the length of its side, admiring its muscles as they rippled under its glossy coat. It was almost fire red, with long black socks and a questing black nose. Its mane was as black as night at the base and faded out to a white at its tips, as though someone had bleached it. She looked askance at Dondre. "What is this strange coloring?" She asked.

His reply was merely to shrug. "When we produced a beast this size, we didn't care about what it looked like, all we cared about was whether it would kill you the first time you tried to mount it."

"I'm interested to know its name, Dondre," Raven cut in. It would have to be something that conveyed power and not a little bit of wildness.

"We took to calling him Vell Fea Seldar because for all his size and muscle he can move a quickly and as silently as that tiny kitten of yours, ma'am."

"Well," Raven said, still looking at the horse, "I guess it fits then. Why don't you join us, Dondre, I'm sure Jareth would love to see you. You know you're always welcome here."

"Thank you kindly but I must be going. I have several more deliveries to make before sunset, or I would stay. Good luck with your new horse, ma'am."

In a flash he disappeared, leaving them stranded in the middle of the bustling courtyard with only the monster horse for protection.

"Well, Sarah, here you are, an official part of the Underground. Now all you need is a sufficiently Fae sounding name and no one could tell the difference. By the way, your horse's name means –"

"The Ghost God. I know." The human looked at Raven as though daring her to challenge the translation which was, amazingly, correct.

Not another word was spoken as they led the three horses into the stable and then headed for the castle. They went their separate ways at the threshold, Raven having some business to take care of with her brother. Sarah wandered aimlessly, enjoying the sensation of castle life going on around her. Servants hustled by, carrying loads of clothes, trays with full and empty dishes, papers and notes, and anything else they happened to find out of place.

Rich, thick carpets lined the halls beneath her feet, tapestries, paintings and sculptures brightened the walls, and her way was lighted by clear, crystal globes that encased flames much like miniature lanterns. Occasionally she passed a huge window with a magnificent view and was forced to stop and stare at the sun that had just begun to touch the horizon with its fiery rim.

Her new kitten went with her, either gamboling at her feet or draped about her neck, or occasionally dashing to trip up an unwary servant. He was like a tiny, fuzzy companion to anchor her in the real world and keep her thoughts from wandering to ifs, would haves, and should haves. His tiny warmth was more reassuring than it should have been, but she didn't think about that either, just let her mind blissfully wander.

It wandered so far that when she found herself outside the war-council room, she strode right in without thought for what might be going on inside. Luckily there were no startled or disgruntled dignitaries from other kingdoms to stare openly at her. Instead Jareth sat, his back to her and his boots resting on something she couldn't discern. His blond, tousled hair cheekily defied all attempts at taming, and stood almost at attention. He gazed out on the evening, the sun a huge, blazing ball that almost eclipsed the sky in its demand for attention and reverence. She watched him, all of his pretences abandoned, as vulnerable as he ever would be.

He sipped lightly at a glass of deep red wine, his long fingers caressing the glass stem in a way that entranced Sarah. He seemed so innocent sitting there, his boots propped up, almost like a little boy who had somehow become a man in an instant. Her old view of the Goblin King was forever shattered by this moment, and she didn't wish to disturb it. She turned to silently leave, but was stopped by a loud shout and the sound of shattering glass.

The kitten it seemed, had had plans of its own, and had been watching the beam of light refracted through Jareth's glass as it danced on the floor, the look of a predator in its every twitch and movement. It had hunched down, its hindquarters swaying, its pupils dilated to almost obscuring the dazzling blue of its eyes, preparing to strike. Unfortunately, its chosen moment of attack had been precisely when the beam was cavorting on Jareth's leg. Its pounce and subsequent clawing had startled Jareth and caused him to drop his wine, which had shattered and splashed everywhere.

Spluttering and cursing, the Goblin King shot out of his chair and seized his assailant, gloved hands grasping the tiny kitten in a vice-like grip.

"No, Jareth, stop!" Sarah shouted, gasping for breath from laughing so hard. He turned, startled to find her there, and look askance as he reluctantly released the kitten. With a mewl of terror, it raced to Sarah and swarmed up the back of her clothes to perch on her shoulder, its claws lacerating her in its death grip.

"Where did you come from?" He spluttered, still splashed with wine and not a little startled.

Sarah suppressed another giggle and stood up straight, mirth still shining in her eyes. "I was wandering around, and just ended up here, though I'm still not sure how. I'm sorry I – he startled you." She gestured with her head toward the mottled kitten whose eyes were still wide with fear.

He smiled and gestured to a seat next to his at the head of the table. A quick blink and his wine-spattered clothes were gone, replaced by a wondrously white and cream outfit. He resumed his seat beside her, an odd smile on his face, and said, "You caught me woolgathering, Sarah. It's more my fault than yours – or his. Where did he come from, anyways?" He reached a now-bare hand out, letting the cat sniff it warily. Deciding that Jareth was trustworthy, the kitten leapt from Sarah's shoulder to Jareth's lap, performing three quick turns before settling down with a satisfied purr. Jareth gave a rare smile and an even rarer laugh at its antics.

"I found him today while Raven and I were shopping. Or rather, he found me. He wandered out from behind a tree like the shadow he resembles, and wouldn't hear of being left behind. I didn't have the heart to abandon the poor thing – he looked so hungry."

"He is an unusual looking chap, isn't he?" He stroked gently behind its ears, a loud basso purr that sounded larger than the cat itself surrounded them. "Enthusiastic, too. Have you named him?"

"No, I haven't thought of a name yet." Haven't thought much at all, lately, she added silently to herself.

"Well, what about… Bern?"

"Too plain!" Sarah exclaimed as she reached to stroke the kitten.

"Gevan?"

"Nope! How's… Hellorin?"

"Sounds too much like 'hellion'," Jareth replied, "and I most certainly don't want him trying to live up to that name in my castle. How's Diccon sound?"

"I like that one, but I like Chak more."

"Chak. It sounds too stately. Let's try Martek."

"Or Janok," she added with a smile.

"Philias?"

"Absolutely not! I still like Chak."

"Let's try a few more," Jareth said good-naturedly.

"Okay, Warrior."

Jareth looked from her to the tiny mound of fuzz sleeping peacefully on his lap. "It doesn't seem to fit. He's too manly for it," he added with a chuckle. "Zander?"

"Chiamh."

"What about something simple like, Shadow?"

"Nah. Odin was the king of the Norse Gods, but would it fit?"

Jareth snorted inelegantly. "Might as well name him Apollo as name him Odin."

"Fine then. If we're going that way, let's name him Caesar."

"I prefer Cassius's personality to Caesar's," they watched the kitten look up and yawn pinkly at them before resting its head again on its paws, black-tipped tail covering its tiny pink nose, "but it doesn't seem that he likes either."

"I know. We'll call him Loki!"

Jareth sighed. "It has the same problem as Hellorin – I don't want him trying to play the part of his namesake. You understand that we'll probably never agree, anyways?"

She nodded. "I guess it comes down to Diccon, Chak, Martek and… Shadow? Well why don't we let him decide?" She looked at him for confirmation, but his only response was to shake the creature from its sleep with a vigorous rub.

It opened rheumy eyes and looked up at him. "Diccon," Sarah crooned, but the cat only yawned at her. "Martek! Here kitty, kitty…" She held out her fingers to it, but it studied its tiny black toes as if she didn't exist. "Shadow?" Its ears flicked at her voice, but it instead began an energetic cleaning regimen on its tiny black paw. A devilish grin lit Sarah's features, and at last she called, "Chak! Come here kitty!"

The patchwork head snapped up from its ministrations to look at her. Standing slowly, it stretched long and languorously before padding over to her lap, where it looked askance at her. "So you like Chak too, do you kitty?" Sarah said, but its only reply was to meow curiously and then jump down to explore.

"Chak it is then!" Jareth grinned. His smile soon relaxed into a serious countenance and he sent an order to the kitchen for more wine. "Would you like something to drink, Sarah?"

She shook her head, "No, but Chak might like a bowl of milk."

"Milk it is, then."

They waited in silence, Sarah watching the kitten futilely chase a large blue and black butterfly, and Jareth watching Sarah. The remaining sunlight streamed in through the open windows and rested on her hair, highlighting the faint strands of auburn and brown in the dark chocolate locks. The tiara resting gently on her head, unmistakably the Countess of Rel's, was set ablaze by the errant sunbeams, giving her a crown of fire. She was beautiful.

A servant entered, the blush wine that Jareth had ordered in one hand, and Chak's bowl of milk in the other. She set the bowl on the floor near the window and presented Jareth with his wine before leaving. He sipped it, enjoying the smooth fruity taste, and turned to find Sarah studying him with a peculiar expression.

"Sarah –" he said, just as she said "Jareth –" and they both blushed. "Ladies first," Jareth said, giving her the most stately bow he could while still sitting down.

"I – I want to thank you, for everything you've done for me – the jewelry, the horse, the clothes. It all seems too good to be true. I think the Underground is wonderful in every way, and everyone is just great, but –"

Jareth felt his heart sink somewhere down to the vicinity of his leather boots and was sure that if he hadn't been wearing them it would have continued its descent into the floor. He had been dreading this moment since he first brought her to the Underground, terrified that he hadn't saved her in time. And now she was going to tell him that she didn't want to stay. "But you want to go back Aboveground." He finished bitterly, and before he could stop himself, he continued, self-loathing in his changeling eyes. "You miss your college and your friends and all of the wonders of human technology. You want to go become a movie star and have the world adore you. You want me to know that you forgive me for kidnapping you and if I'll just send you home now you won't seek retribution. All you care about is –"

He didn't get to finish, however, because Sarah laid a restraining hand on his thigh. He stopped and looked up at her, emotions churning behind his eyes, unable to summon even a semblance of his Goblin King façade. What he saw in her expression as he looked at her confused him, and filled him with bitter, empty hope. He wanted to go find some empty corner of the universe and cry like a child who has watched its puppy die.

Her eyes held not a little confusion, a touch of warm mirth that he felt was mocking him, and a bit of sadness. Her lips were pressed together as though she were choosing her words carefully. "No." She said softly. "That's not it at all." His heart soared, and he tamped down on it ruthlessly, afraid to hope and yet unable to stop.

She picked her hand up from his leg and reached for his free hand, as the other gripped the wine glass with almost enough pressure to shatter it. Picking it up, she began to chafe it with her considerably smaller ones, and it was then he realized that he was freezing. His entire body had gone cold. Slowly, warmth returned to that hand, and he downed half his glass of wine in one gulp, unable to take his eyes off her.

Still holding his hand gently in hers, she continued. "I wanted to say that I couldn't just stay here and live on your hospitality. Raven reminded me today that without you, I'm nothing but a pauper. I want to do something! I don't know how I feel about this," she waved one hand as if to encompass the entire world with it. "but I do know that I belong here. I belong here more than I ever belonged back Aboveground. I don't know how, I don't know why, but this is where I want to stay." Tear welled in her eyes but did not fall, and soon she continued, still holding his hand, and he didn't want her to let go, ever. "I love Raven, I love Ter, I love Arne, I love the fields and the forests and all the creatures in them." Her breath caught in her throat and Jareth felt his heart pounding as though it would burst, hoping against hope. "I – I might even love you." Her grip tightened on his hand. "I just don't want to sit idly here, playing the princess. I want to earn my keep, if you will." She suddenly blushed, looking down at his hand. "I've left the Aboveground behind more completely than I left my mother's womb behind. Everything that ever happened to me there seems like it was more than a lifetime ago. I have no desire to return. I just want to stay here, with you."

Still grasping his hand, she brought it up to her face, resting her cheek on its wide, smooth palm. She closed her eyes and turned, kissing each of his fingertips in turn so gently that he almost didn't feel it before again resting her cheek in its center. Jareth, unable to stop himself, pulled her to him in a fierce and passionate kiss, the world forgotten. She trembled beneath him as his arms encircled her, but met his lips with a fiery fervor of her own. Still trembling with the ravages of their sudden passion, they held each other, everyone and everything else forgotten. They clung to each other as if both were drowning and only the other could save the one. After a few minutes, he was able to release her with some semblance of dignity, though he continued to hold her hand in his.

Both looked down to see the kitten, its sapphire eyes keen, staring up at them with a curious expression, it's crazy-quilt head cocked to one side. "Merow?" It asked, and then sauntered over to the bowl of milk, where it sat down with delight and lapped it up with a purr. Sarah managed a shaky laugh and Jareth smiled as it purred luxuriously.

"Very well, then Sarah. Tomorrow, I am yours alone. You and I will go wherever you want to, and we will find something for you to do that makes you feel like you belong. This nonsense has got to stop. I will send word to the Kings tomorrow that if they do not stop this nonsense at once, then I will take it as aggression and it will be the start of war." He stood and stretched. "I'm going now, but I will call on you in the morning." He bent down and kissed her forehead gently. Before turning to leave, he stooped to regard Chak, who looked solemnly at him. Putting one finger under the kitten's chin, Jareth lifted it up so he could look directly down into its eyes. "You take good care of your mistress for me tonight, lad. She means more to me than anything else in the world." The kitten chewed on his finger and meowed mock ferociously. "She's in good hands, then."

With that he turned and disappeared, leaving Sarah to sit and stare at the last of the sunset, emotions warring within her.

Good lord I thought I would never finish! Okay, until next time!