"Berta is treating you well?" asked Jareth over breakfast. It was the morning after Sarah's visit to the Goblin Market.

"Oh yes!" concurred Sarah enthusiastically. "I dare say she's a friend now. She's been a great comfort and help to me." The strange events of yesterday had been on Sarah's mind all morning; she was happy to talk about something else and decided not to bring them up to the king.

"That's nice," said Jareth, uninterested. He sipped his tea calmly, but the energy in the room said the question was a courtesy, and what he really wanted to say was yet to come.

"Why?" asked Sarah, who had caught on to the unexplained pretext.

"A goblin is hardly a lady-in-waiting; soon, you'll be joined by two Fae companions. I think you'll find their comfort and help much more agreeable than that of a goblin's."

Sarah opened her mouth and shut it again. Yes, she would like the company of Fae, of people. No, she didn't want them to be forced to spend time with her. Yes, Berta could be unorthodox at times and rough around the edges. No, she didn't want to lose her companionship.

Sarah was careful to respond and not react; she wasn't actually sure what a proper lady-in-waiting did.

"Thank you. I certainly don't want companionship to be someone's job, but someone to help out and escort me wouldn't be so bad. As long as I don't lose my friendship with Berta."

"A goblin is hardly an appropriate friend for a…"

Queen, he said in thoughts.

"…Champion," he finished.

Sarah remained calm; she exhaled.

"Be that as it may. This doesn't mean, I'll be separated from her permanently, right? I can certainly visit. She can visit. Right?" Sarah's friend-circle was sparse, and she began to panic at the thought of it shrinking.

"Well you're certainly not forbidden from seeing each other," he said quickly. "She'll still act as your handmaid. Just don't make a habit of mingling with the goblins."

"You do."

Silence.

"Is he angry?" thought Sarah.

An expression that Sarah had never seen before—that most people had never seen before—illuminated the Goblin King's face. He clenched his teeth, but not in anger; he was trying to keep a straight face and prevent the corners of his mouth from turning up. His eyes were bright. His eyebrows raised. He tilted his head down.

A smile almost, almost, crossed his face. Had the king allowed himself, he would've laughed at the girl's retort. It was a quick—and truthful—quip that both amused and impressed him.

Sarah couldn't help it; laughter bubbled forth from her. She laughed, and the king's eyes smiled brightly. Moments of joy passed between them.

This is how it should be, Jareth thought.

After Sarah's laughter subsided, he cleared his throat. "Sarah, there's a small theater production tomorrow evening. I'd be happy if you would accompany me. I can introduce you to some of the troupe afterwards, if you'd like."

"Really?!" Sarah practically cried. "I'd love to go!"

Again, the king restrained himself from smiling, but his eyes betrayed him. "I'm pleased," was all he said with a cool face, but Sarah could tell his over-formal bearing was hiding that he was more than pleased; the king was happy.

~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~

"Who are you?!" asked Sarah. If she hadn't been so shocked, she wouldn't have been so rude. But, she didn't notice her short, impolite tone since a stranger was standing at her bedroom door—and she was standing in her nightgown.

The expected knock had rapped on her door that morning, but no one had entered. Rather, Berta hadn't entered. Instead, Sarah had opened the door to find a white-blonde Fae waiting for her.

"Good morning, Your Ladyship. My name is Onika. I'm to be one of your companions," said the tall youth with a bow.

A head popped out from behind her.

"Good morning, Lady Sarah!"

"Gwyreign!" cried Sarah! The hazel-eyed Fae flashed a wide, toothy grin from behind her compatriot.

Sarah was about to start forward and give her friend a hug before she remembered herself.

"Lady Gwyreign. It's certainly nice to see a friendly face around here. Oh where are my manners: and it's nice to meet you, Onika. Please, come in."

Sarah stepped aside and ushered them through the doorway.

Lady Gwyreign promptly explained they were to help her dress in the mornings, while Berta would bring her breakfast and help her with washing ("no, thank you," thought Sarah to herself, making a note she'd have to start getting up earlier). They would accompany her to breakfast with the king, and they would stay and eat with her should the king be out. Their days would be spent together, and the pair would alternate their days off every fourth and fifth day.

"And when is my day off?" thought Sarah to herself.

"Don't worry, you guys won't have to spend eeevery single day with me," said Sarah, hoping they'd get the hint.

The ladies glanced at each other, a look passing between them.

"No, of course not," said Onika. The two Fae bowed their heads respectfully.

Sarah suspected these women weren't here only to fill a regular court position within the monarchy; that look most likely meant Jareth had sent two babysitters instead.

Either way, Sarah was happy for the company.

"Breakfast will be here soon," chimed Gwyreign. "Let's get you dressed. Will you be changing before the theater tonight?"

"Um, I don't think that will be necessary. I'll just wear now what I'm going to wear later."

Sarah loved dressing for the theater. For the first time since arriving, she wished she had organized her own clothing.

"Please have something nice for me," she begged the wardrobe silently.

When Onika opened the wardrobe, dresses nearly exploded from their hangers; it was absolutely stuffed with clothing.

Gwyreign let out an approving "wow." Sarah's eyes immediately found the material she wanted. She pulled the dress from the wardrobe.

"Oh, Lady Sarah…" Onika said ogling the gown.

"I think that will be more than sufficient," smirked Gwyreign coyly.

~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~

Jareth appeared with a flourish of his cloak in front of Sarah's door. He was clad in a formal yet striking red suit-jacket that was paired with black pants—actual pants rather than leggings. Still, they were tucked into knee-high leather boots, and he managed to bring a touch of flamboyance to the stern, regal outfit with a glittering black cape that glinted even in the dim hallway light. He was as imposing as ever, and the tips of his hair had been dipped in or colored with red dye.

He knocked once. The sound of scurrying came from inside the room. No one answered. He waited a moment before knocking twice. Hushed voices murmured behind the door. He raised his fist to knock yet again, but the door swung open.

For once, the king was devoid of sarcasm.

Sarah stood before him in a glittering gold gown that could've been painted on. It hung from her body like a waterfall. The material was practically sheer, it was as if she wore a sheath of golden rain.

He was speechless.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked, as if she were unaware that she looked like a goddess. The plunging neckline was held up by delicate spaghetti straps. The straight column cut of the dress only accentuated her hourglass figure. The king couldn't find his words. His tongue was tied.

Sarah only smiled. She turned back to her companions. "Thank you, Onika and Gwyreign. I'll see you tomorrow." She stepped into the hallway. "Shall we?" she asked, offering her arm to the king.

"Yes," he finally said, remembering to breathe. As he took her arm, he snuck a glance behind her to view the smooth, curve of her back exposed by the backless cut of the dress.

When they stepped forward, the hallway before Sarah shimmered and a light wind blew around her. With the next step, they were standing in a different hallway.

Sarah recognized immediately where they were.

"Are we going to the blue theater?" asked Sarah.

"The wha—oh, yes," said Jareth, realizing what she was talking about. "We call this the parlor theater. I arranged this fairly quickly, so there wasn't enough time to produce it in the proper theater," he replied.

Sarah smiled at the realization that there was more than one theater. "You arranged this?"

Jareth looked at her quizzically, as if it should've been obvious an entire production would be put on just for her at his bequest. "Of course. It's something they did last season. Adapted slightly for the Parlor."

Sarah couldn't believe he would do all this just for her. "Thank you, Jareth. This is spectacular, you didn't have to do this all for me."

"It's no expense," he replied with a smile.

Sarah smiled back. "What's it about?"

"The usual. A woman loves a man. The man loves the woman. Tragedy strikes. Villains, plot twists, duels, secrecy. I do believe you'll like it." He led her into the foyer.

The hall was already buzzing with a would-be audience. More chaise longues of periwinkle and baby blue had been set up. Many Fae were already lounging atop the couches, while others simply sat on cushions on the floor, their backs propped up against the chaises. Several parchment-skinned servers floated around with trays of beverages and hors d'oeuvres. The chatter of the Fae was hushed yet enthusiastic.

The energy in the room changed as soon as they entered. The chatter suddenly quickened to a hushed, nervous pace, but the Fae were all smiles.

Several feet in front of them stood a pair of gentlemen holding hands, their backs to Sarah and the king. The pair looked back nervously at them, looked away, looked back at them…and turned. As soon as they showed the courage to approach, other members of the public began to flock towards them.

"Your Majesty," said the brunet man to the left. The pair broke hands and bowed.

"Sarah, may I introduce you to the royal sommelier Erik and his partner Ophyris, who has become a talented fromager and charcutier in the royal kitchen.

"Thank you, Your Highness," said the auburn-haired Fae.

"It's nice to see everyone's favorite royal couple," said Erik with a wink, taking his partner's hand once more.

When they parted, they were immediately replaced by another pair, then another group, and another, and another all wishing them well and greeting them warmly.

"Simply stunning, my lady."

"Radiant as the sun, you are."

"My King, we are grateful for an encore post-season. It's really a treat."

And so on and so forth. Sarah greeted the patrons dutifully, but her smile beamed as genuinely as the sun shone.

"If you'll excuse us," the king said with a wave of his hand. Like oil and water, the crowd receded from them as quickly as they had advanced.

"It's really wonderful that you organized another performance of…"

"Bones and Bells," finished Jareth.

"Interesting title," remarked Sarah. "Do you attend the theater often?"

"Not really. I'm not really one for the dramatic arts. Music, acrobatics, sparring and fights… I like going to performances, I'm just not one for plays."

Sarah's heart sunk a little. "That's alright. To each their own."

A server sauntered in front of them with a tray and offered them tartlets, which Sarah and Jareth both accepted. Jareth led Sarah to the front of the Parlor and directed her to a long, high-backed chaise so much larger and elaborate than the others, it could only be meant for the king.

"I hope you don't mind a front row seat," Jareth said suavely.

"Not at all," Sarah played along. She gave a slight curtesy and seated herself on the right side of the chaise. Jareth grabbed an oversized throw-pillow from the ground and propped himself up against it on the left side of the seat. He swung his left leg over the left arm of the chaise and beckoned a server with drinks over. He took a flute of champagne, and Sarah politely declined as the server offered her a drink as well.

The lights dimmed, the din hushed, the crowd took their seats. Sarah noticed two Fae sitting awkwardly close to the stage, one off to the left and one off to the right. The Fae sitting off to the left raised an arm, and a spotlight magically shone onto the stage. Sarah gave a quick look around; no, there was no physical spotlight, so it must be cast by the man raising his arm. The lady Fae sitting off to the right was sitting still.

"That's one way to do lighting," thought Sarah to herself. How much easier would plays and film be in the Aboveground if the stagehands could just magic the effects onto stage and screen?

A lone man walked on stage in a sweeping, magenta robe. He wore heeled boots and an obvious pompadour wig. He cleared his throat dramatically and opened his arms wide, puffing up his chest.

"Oh boy," thought Sarah.

~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~

Although overacted and a bit long-winded, the play had a charming plot. Sarah was surprised that it indeed finished with a happy ending—but happily surprised. Sarah applauded heartily with the other attendees. The cast (and two-person crew) gave their final bows before the audience once again grouped together to chat.

"What did you think?" asked Jareth, rising and offering her his hand.

"It was great!" said Sarah enthusiastically, taking his hand. She didn't need to tell him what she thought of the exaggerated acting and perhaps on-the-nose dialogue. She had honestly enjoyed herself.

"You know, I didn't think it was going to have a happy ending after that witch turned the princess into a tree, but love finds a way."

"It most certainly does," said Jareth, bringing her hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss upon it.

Sarah smiled gently, and before she knew it, the king was pulling her into the midst of the crowd.

Several patrons tried to get the king's attention, but he made a beeline for the back of the hall, tugging Sarah along the way. When the crowd parted, Sarah saw a table covered in fruits and more champagne surrounded by the actors. Sarah knew that sweaty, slightly disheveled, look all too well. She had experienced it many times. Finally being out of costume, but not yet out of makeup. Ready to greet the fans, but also ready to go home and sleep.

"Eustace," called Jareth to the actor who opened the play. The troupe immediately straightened up and bent quickly into humble bows. "Sarah, may I present Eustatius the Wise, one of our best actors. You should see him on the big stage."

"My king, you are too kind," said Eustace, bowing again.

"Pleased to meet you," said Sarah, curtseying.

"The pleasure is all mine," said Eustace, bowing for a third time. "His Majesty told me you yourself are a talented actor as well," he said, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Sarah noted the "as well." "His Majesty is very kind. I've wanted to become an actor for as long as I can remember. I would love an opportunity to act while I'm here, if that would be possible."

"Lady Sarah, we would be honored if you would join our humble troupe." Eustace bowed for a fourth time—his deepest bow yet.

The black-haired Fae standing next to Eustace joined the conversation.

"Our next show is a potpourri of scenes and poetry," she said, flipping her long black hair behind her. "We'll be sure to send a parchment of our rehearsal schedule and performance calendar."

"Thank you," said Sarah.

"Thank you, Euphorbia," joined Jareth.

"I really enjoyed tonight. The magic effects were very special," Sarah said, referring to the two Fae "crew" members who had magicked the lighting, sound-effects, and other miscellaneous special effects.

"My lady," said Euphorbia with a humble curtsey.

Sarah was about to grab a flute of champagne when Jareth addressed the whole troupe as members of the audience began to gather and also partake in champagne. "My dear actors, we will be parting now. Bravo once more on a job well done. Goodnight."

The troupe bowed again. Jareth placed his hand on the small of Sarah's back and led her away to the door.

Sarah was disheartened. She had wanted to stay and chat, she had wanted to socialize and get to know the actors. It was troubling that Jareth wanted to keep her all to himself on such a social night—even if this was the second date. With a lump of panic in her throat, they dematerialized as soon as they left the room.

Sarah recognized immediately where they reappeared. They were once more in the dining room with the large balcony, the balcony where Jareth had accosted her. Had he forgotten already? It was not a happy memory and therefore not a happy place for Sarah. The lump in her throat remained.

"I thought this would remind you of some simple human pleasures." He gestured to the fully-set table.

Sarah's breathing returned to normal and she couldn't help but smile; on the table were two bowls heaped with cream-colored ice cream. Next to one bowl of ice cream was a full wine glass, and next to the other bowl were three glasses of fizzing drink; one pale yellow, one bright orange, and one deep purple.

"Ice cream! And is that soda?" Sarah chuckled in disbelief.

"The kitchen went through great pains to figure them out. I admit, the soda has been magicked, but it was the goblins who figured the ice cream out. Sheep's milk. They sweetened it with honey." Jareth turned to her and placed another gentle kiss upon her hand before politely pulling her chair out for her.

"Don't you want any soda?" asked Sarah as she seated herself at the head of the table.

"I admit, while the Aboveground has many treats and treasures that I enjoy, soda is not one of them. Ice cream on the other hand…" He took his seat to her left and scooped a heaping spoonful of the delicacy into his mouth.

Sarah giggled. He was forgiven from taking her away from the other actors, but she would still make it the topic of the evening.

She asked about past productions. What were the stories they told? What was the rehearsal schedule like? How did the actors behave towards each other? Who's who?

Jareth knew, not unsurprisingly, little. Still, he knew enough to paint a picture for Sarah.

"Eustatius is…special. He's in his own world sometimes. He's the head of the troupe, or he believes he is. Euphorbia is the brains of the operation and cleans up after Eustace. He's an artist and creative soul for sure, but she makes order of his ideas and plans." He went on to tell her about the rest of the troupe, each with a personality stronger than the last. They seemed like a bunch of misfits; Sarah felt she would fit right in.

Everything seemed perfect. Sarah felt she wasn't trapped nor being treated like a prisoner. She could see her friends, and now she'd have an occupation, or at least a hobby; everything was drama-free and going well.

But…

In the back of her mind, she thought about Queen Amalia's words.

"You won't end up like the last one."

"Jareth…" she began tentatively. She had no clue how to start this conversation. "I spoke with Queen Amalia yesterday."

"I saw," Jareth replied coolly and plainly.

He saw? But how?

Sarah remembered how the eye lichen had behaved.

"The lichen?" she asked.

"Yes."

His face was still and unchanging.

"I wonder what you talked about," he remarked with feigned nonchalance, taking a drink of his wine.

Sarah gulped. Why was he acting like she was guilty of something? Like she was suspicious?

"Oh, we didn't talk about anything, really. It was a strange conversation to be honest."

"Do tell." His gaze was like a laser beam that bore straight through her.

"She said some weird stuff about the past. About 'bygones,' and you not having luck with women." She looked down at her empty dish, bits of melted ice cream now gathered into a little puddle. "That I wouldn't end up like the last one. Did something happen?" she asked, looking up.

Jareth looked away from her and snorted. "She just couldn't help it. I knew she'd try to start trouble. Nothing happened," he insisted, looking back at her, his gaze intensifying.

"I'm sure she wouldn't go making things up," Sarah countered. "The queen said, 'she' isn't with us. So there must have been someone, and they must've gone away, or…or—" Sarah gulped again. "Died."

Jareth stood up, agitated. He pushed his chair away from the table roughly.

"It wasn't my fault, it… I didn't have anything to do with it." He ran a hand through his hair. The Goblin King was speaking in stunted sentences, pacing back and forth like a cornered tiger.

"What wasn't your fault?" asked Sarah, her chest rising and falling quickly with her clipped, short breaths.

"Cassandra. Cassandra Fairskies. Amalia's annoying little sister."

"Was she your—"

"No!" Jareth cried. A matter of mere moments had him already looking disheveled. He was unravelling. "She wasn't my anything. She never was. She'd follow us around like a lost puppy. When we were children, Amalia and I would always try to shake her off our tails. It was insufferable. When we were children…" The Goblin King stopped pacing. "And then, we weren't children. And the kingdoms all said that we would be the perfect pair. It would be a historic match—but it was all gossip. Empty gossip. She was obsessed with me! She'd do everything to get my attention. She'd send gifts, she'd try to weasel her way into Amalia's and my friendship. It was childish, and we weren't children anymore."

"That doesn't sound like obsession; it sounds like she was in love with you," said Sarah, standing.

"Love, not love. It doesn't matter. I never loved her. Even after the Ice Wars, she pursued me. Why couldn't she take a hint?!" He took another drink of wine.

"You're being cruel," said Sarah.

"No, she was cruel. What's cruel is making everyone believe something that wasn't true. It went as far as the Crystal King and Queen—Amalia's and her parents—began to speak of marriage. Marriage! I had barely spoken to her our whole lives. She was so…so boring. So ordinary. I never loved her. I was not in love with her, nor Amalia. But Amalia and I shared a sameness somehow. We were friends; Cassandra was never even that to me, despite her efforts." He was staring out the window, like he could actually see the past as it unfolded before his eyes.

"Jareth, where is she? Where is Cassandra?" Sarah's palms were clammy and damp with sweat. The king was cruel, the king was cold; the king was many things, but certainly he would never… No, he couldn't.

Jareth looked Sarah dead in the eyes, his jaw locked in place.

"She's dead, Sarah."

Sarah stumbled away from the table, nearly toppling her chair in the process. She staggered backwards, slowly.

"Jareth, did you…did you…?"

"What, you think I killed her?!" Jareth came at her. Before Sarah could turn and run, he seized her by the arms. The king's eyes were wild. "Do you really think so little of me that you think me a murderer?!"

"Jareth, you're hurting me! Please!" He did not release her.

"That's not what happened. I didn't kill her."

"Jareth, if you didn't kill her, then let me go. We can talk about it, just please, let me go." Sarah's eyes were pleading.

The king stared at her, his chest heaving. For a brief moment, Sarah thought maybe he was a killer. Maybe he would keep her locked up now that she knew. Was he really so cruel?

Like a man breathing his last breath, Jareth sighed long, slow, and suddenly. He released Sarah.

"I…I didn't kill her. It wasn't my fault." He schlepped himself back to the table, his feet dragging along the way. Some wine sloshed out of his glass as he grabbed it and drank the remaining contents down. He sat, dejected, and rubbed his brow with eyes closed.

Sarah had never seen the king so…broken. She took her seat next to him and laid her hand on his outstretched right, while his left continued to worry his brow.

"I did my best to ignore the gossip. To ignore her. I avoided her at all costs, but she persisted. While a Fae can last hundreds and hundreds of years, our ability to have children does not. You can live forever, but you can't create life for forever. Amalia told me that after her time passed, her sister just…faded. It's like the magic left her body. She was like a human. She was…old. It's like she gave up. The magic left her body, and so did her spirit. Amalia blamed me. The Crystal City itself tried to pretend these things had never happened and didn't speak about it at all, which was perhaps worse for Amalia. It was like her own parents were too ashamed of Cassandra's weakness to even resent me. Amalia never got justice nor validation for her pain. This stupid thing follows me no matter how much I want to be rid of it!" he cried, looking up and slamming his fist onto the table.

Sarah withdrew her hand, startled. "Jareth, she wasn't weak. She was just heartbroken. Surely you don't think that's such a horrible thing?" Sarah was seeing a side of the king she didn't like.

"I don't think anything. I don't even think about her. I'm too angry that I took the blame to have an opinion on her."

"Jareth!" cried Sarah.

"It's true! It's not my fault she died."

"It's not, but you got off easy. Maybe you should have talked with her and set up some boundaries instead of ignoring her your whole life. You treated her like she didn't matter."

"Easy?! How did I have it easy. It caused tension between the two realms for more than a century!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but you are being unnecessarily mean. I'm just saying, you could've handled the situation better."

"And what would you know?" he snapped, his eyes like two daggers.

"I—" his look stopped Sarah's heart for a moment. If looks could kill… "I'm not judging you. You could just show a little empathy, that's all."
"Says the human girl. One boyfriend and suddenly you're emotionally intelligent."

"More than you!" Sarah cried, rising to her feet.

"Insolent girl!" he cried, standing and knocking his chair over.

"Why are you turning on me?! You don't have to be so mean!" Sarah's eyes welled with tears.

"I'm not! I just…" The king didn't know what to say. Sarah's head spun with hurt, sadness, and anger. Jareth was unhinged; Sarah didn't know if she should be scared or worried. She didn't know if he was sad or mad, or maybe he was just guilty and trying to cover it up.

Jareth grit his teeth and pursed his lips, the expression on his face morphing into a sinister sneer.

"This evening is over." With a wave of his hand, he and Sarah both went up in a cloud of smoke. When Sarah solidified, her feet touched down in her bedroom.

"UGH!" she screamed, slamming both fists on her bedroom door. How dare he poof her away?! She threw herself on her bed and dissolved into tears, too hurt and confused to change for bed. As she fell asleep, she wondered how things could go so wrong when they were just starting to feel right?

Meanwhile, a parcel from the Goblin City was passed off to a courier who headed towards the Castle at the Center of the Labyrinth. The parcel was given to a pair of gloved hands who deposited the contents into a glass vial. The vial was wrapped in a cloth and carried deep into the catacombs. There, it was tucked safely behind a loose stone in the wall. Moments later, a shadowy figure passed through the dusty corridor and pulled the stone from its place. The little package was gently removed.

"Perfect," purred the tall figure.