Authors' Note: You might have noticed that the last chapter was put up, taken down, and put up again several times. This is because the site wasn't sending new chapter alerts (yes, we follow our own fic, so we know when alerts drop). We emailed support, and it seems to working correctly now - please let us know in reviews if you got your alert, or if you had to check manually to see this chapter.

Anyway, our brief hiatus is over, and we're back to publishing once a week or so. Thank you all for bearing with us!


Sarah pried her eyes open with a groan. At first, all she could remember of the last night was finally hearing the story of how Jareth's parents got together – and yeah, he definitely got his arrogance from his mother. Luckily Della was sweet-tempered.

She lay staring at the ceiling, scowling in thought. There had been a lot of wine, though she tried to drink slowly, and vague recollections of dancing with Jareth flickered across her mind. The official welcome of his parents had turned to a night of revelry, which Sarah didn't mind at all … but the aftermath was painful.

The covers were tugged to the side as something small climbed up on the bed. Sarah hastily blinked, her eyes finally focused on Neesk, carrying a flask almost as big as he was. "Kingy sez make ya drink this when ya wake up," he chirped, holding it out and almost overbalancing.

It couldn't be coffee, she still hadn't remembered to bring more down, but anything that took the taste out of her mouth would be welcome. Sarah reached for the flask, pulled its cork, and drank it down.

The drink was ice-cold and tasted strongly of mint, making her eyes water. Coughing and spluttering, she almost swore out loud … but realized her headache was gone. "Damn, you could sell that at New Year's and make millions," she said, amazed.

"No more hurty head?" Neesk asked, and when she nodded, he bounced up happily and scampered off.

Sarah got out of bed, washed up, and got dressed. In the process she noticed that the light coming in was much brighter than it should've been. It was past noon – and now she remembered going outside to toast the sunrise with Jareth, Deruthiel, and Cadelinyth. They had still been drinking when they came back in for breakfast, but at some point she'd tumbled off to bed.

"Note to self: don't party with the fae," Sarah muttered, brushing the tangles from her hair. She'd woken alone, in her own room, and headed downstairs wearily. Even if her hangover was gone, her sleep hadn't exactly been restful.

When she reached the kitchens, Beldych took one look at her and shook his antlered head. "Nothing fancy for lunch," he proclaimed. "Bread, cheese, a little fruit. The lot of you nearly drained the cellars last night, so your belly needs to rest."

"You're a lifesaver," she sighed. Only moments later she was sitting at the kitchen table eating soft cheese spread over chunks of bread and slices of freshly-picked apple.

Sarah habitually ate in the kitchen when she was alone. It was cozier than the formal dining room or the semi-formal breakfast nook, and she didn't like making the servers run back and forth when it was just her. Jareth didn't, preferring to keep a little royal distance, but he did stop in the kitchens to grab a bite rather than be served, and he knew all his kitchen staff by name.

Sarah had just about finished when Cadelinyth arrived. Jareth's mother looked cheerful and well-rested, just as if she hadn't matched the men drink for drink all night. "Sarah! Good morning, or good afternoon, as it were. How do you feel?"

"Like ten miles of bad road," Sarah laughed. "Jareth sent me up a hangover cure, which helped a lot, but I still feel like maybe mortals shouldn't try to drink like fae."

Della chuckled. "Poor thing. You look exhausted. Has my son taught you to refresh yourself from Umardelin's magic?"

She could only shake her head. "Not yet. I'm still learning theory. The last thing he wants – or I want – is me pulling on the Labyrinth's power in a moment of surprise up Above, and blowing up a building or something."

"That would be disastrous. Here, let me." Della reached out and let her fingertips rest against Sarah's forehead lightly. She didn't have time to politely refuse; before the words reached her lips, her exhaustion had vanished, and she felt like she'd slept a week.

Della sat down across from her, accepting a cup of tea from Beldych. "Now that you owe me a favor," she said, her eyes twinkling, "I'll ask one of you. When you go Above next, Sarah, would you please take me with you? I have not been in decades."

Sarah sighed. If Della wasn't so charming, she'd call the fae woman pushy and manipulative, but the pleading look in her eyes was real. "It's really not all that fascinating. And I would've thought, powerful as you are, that you could go anytime you liked."

"I could – to certain regions. The Celtic lands still know us and welcome our tread. But the Americas … it's different, here. I couldn't make my way to New York City without invitation, or traveling by mundane means. And I don't particularly want to stay Above for an entire day. Someone like me would get noticed, and I prefer not to go starting wars with the exiles."

She'd invoked Sarah's curiosity, and since she was willing to answer, Sarah asked, "Okay, but why New York? It doesn't strike me as a fae kind of city, anyway, for all that there are fae living there."

Della grinned. "The shopping, darling. Last time I went Above, I brought back a miniskirt. Thiel nearly gave himself apoplexy."

Sarah groaned. "Oh, Jareth is so your son. All right, I'll take you on a shopping trip – but we have to stay incognito. I don't want to throw the urban fae into a panic."

"Nor do I, darling. I just want to put that scandalized look on Thiel's face again. He's not so fond of the world Above, and he doesn't keep up with fashion trends and such."

"I'd imagine most fae aren't too thrilled about the modern world. All that steel."

Della settled in, tucking her feet underneath her. "Well, yes. But Thiel's worse than most. His father was human – think of the legend of Ossian. It was that sort of situation. That's why he has the beard, you know. A full-blooded fae can't grow one. Anyway, for Thiel, your world is a sharp reminder of all the things the purer fae mock him for, behind his back." She smiled, showing her teeth in a way that was sharply reminiscent of her son. "At least, they used to. Then he married the sorceress' daughter, and she suffers no insult to her husband."

"Unless you're the one doing the insulting," Sarah pointed out, and Della had to laugh.

Thiel arrived at that moment. "Are you badgering the poor woman again? Let her alone, Della, she's not going to take you Above just to be dragged around like a dog on a short leash."

"Actually, my love, Sarah already agreed to take me shopping," Della said with an infectious grin.

He sighed. "Make sure she pays, then, Sarah. And our son sent me to find you both. Apparently we're going for a ride, to see the sights." Thiel shuddered. "He's already agreed to leave something called the Bog of Stench off the tour. I can't imagine."

"The forest is actually a lot of fun," Sarah said. "And I've got friends who live around the hedge maze. I wonder if it'll toss out anything new, for you two."

Thiel shuddered again. "I like my lands stable, thank you very much. Umardelin has always been called the Unmastered, but I had no idea it was that changeable."

"It's the power. And the Labyrinth," Della said. "You know what this place is, love."

"A trap for people who read the wrong book," Sarah scoffed.

They both looked at her strangely, but it was Della who spoke. "Darling, the Labyrinth is more than that. This place … it is the punishment for those who mock the fae. All the legends tell of changelings – which yes, some of us did. When you cannot bear a child of your own, sometimes desperate measures are taken. Every mortal who knows anything about the fae, knows that we have stolen children since time immemorial. And if someone who does believe, even a little, should openly wish for us to take their child, well … the Labyrinth answers. It's always been the goblins who do the thieving, as they are the best at concealment, and moving between realms."

"It's not entirely unfair," Thiel added, as one of the scullions drew up a chair for him. He thanked the goblin absentmindedly as he sat down. "The Labyrinth offers a chance to win the child back, for someone who's brave and clever enough. As for the book, I imagine the kingdom created that to stir up a little more belief, and get itself more runners in the modern age. It can do things like that without consulting its king, which neither Etaron nor Astolwyr can. I don't envy my son."

Now that she was sober and rested and had the time to contemplate, Sarah looked up at Deruthiel thoughtfully. She could see his human traits, not just the beard but also rounded ears, which Jareth also had. Della's ears were pointed, as were most of the fae that Sarah had seen, though admittedly few of them were of the same 'high' fae race. The weight of his brows and the strong jaw might have made him appear imposing, but his eyes were kind. And whenever Della teased him, his expression was an echo of her own father's long-suffering yet amused look.

Thiel looked older than Della – who in turn, looked younger than Sarah herself. And Jareth looked about the same age as Thiel. Sarah frowned, and decided to just ask, since they were both rather forthcoming. Besides, if the answer was embarrassing, at least Jareth hadn't joined them yet. "Forgive me if this rude," she began. "But … how do fae age? Because Jareth looks the same as he did fifteen years ago, but Della, you look even younger than me."

Both of them sighed, and Thiel took Della's hand. She was the one who spoke, though, soft and a little regretful. "We look, to a certain extent, how we want to look. I am close to five centuries old, Sarah, yet I still feel young. So I don't show my age. Thiel bears the weight of royal responsibility a little more strongly that I do, and the strain of that burden shows."

"Not that you don't shoulder your share of it," Thiel cut in, giving her hand a little squeeze. "As for Jareth … I thought he would be like Della, and look to be in his twenties all his life. Within a decade of coming here, however, the stress of this realm had aged him."

Sarah felt a little chill run down her spine at that. Jareth had told her about his predecessor, King Thydus, whom the goblins had killed. And whenever he spoke of the curse that bound him here, she heard the pain of it in his tone. But to know that living here had aged him some twenty years, when a fae like him could go centuries without aging at all … that truly brought home to her how much pressure he'd been under.

Before she could dwell on it, Jareth himself arrived. "You know we have a perfectly good breakfast room," he said, looking skeptically at all of them.

"But for a chef of Beldych's caliber, we prefer to be as close to the ovens as possible," Della shot back with a grin. Perhaps only Sarah saw the stag duck his head and blush a little.

Jareth just rolled his eyes. "Beldych, if they are underfoot, I give you the authority to throw the lot of them out. That goes for any visitor – except the High King himself, and my grandmother."

"Smart boy," Thiel muttered, and Sarah stifled her laugh.

Jareth cut him an arch look, by which Thiel remained utterly unfazed. "I have horses saddled for us all. Speaking of which, Sarah, are you comfortable riding? Or shall I bring a carriage?"

"I took enough riding lessons in my teens, I should be fine," Sarah replied. "As long as we keep a sane pace."

"I'd better leave Garafin behind for this one," Della murmured.

"Your palfrey is being readied, Mother. Having been bitten by that horse, I had no wish to bring him along," Jareth replied.

Sarah sat blinking in the knowledge that Garafin was still alive – apparently fae horses aged more slowly, too. Jareth shooed them all out to the stables, where Sarah was gratefully mounted on a sedate horse, and they set off.

Their route took them through the Goblin City, whose inhabitants looked at them curiously and gave them friendly greetings and waves. Sarah was content to let her horse follow the others, just enjoying the sunny warmth of the day, when her placid mount suddenly spooked and shied. She had to grab a handful of mane to stay on.

"Easy, horsie," a familiar voice chirped behind her, and Sarah turned to see Neesk climbing the horse's mane. It snorted and shook itself, as Neesk hopped to her shoulder to peer around.

She was about to greet him, when Thiel looked around and saw her. His lip curled in distaste, and he asked suddenly, "You let that thing that close to your face?"

Jareth reined in, bristling, but Sarah's vision went awash with gold, and she nudged her horse forward before he could speak. "That thing is our loyal subject, King of Etaron," Sarah said, shocked at her own temerity. She had already begun to like Thiel, and her response was sharper for it. Sarah expected better from Jareth's father. And seeing the little goblin nervously gnawing his tail – which she pulled from his mouth with infinite gentleness – only irked her the more. "Neesk is a good friend, and my royal page, as well. He deserves no disrespect."

"And in our lands, he will suffer none," Jareth added sternly.

Thiel blinked at them, as Della slipped her foot out of the stirrup and kicked him in the shin. "My apologies, Jareth, Sarah," he said.

"Don't apologize to me," Sarah replied quickly. "It's Neesk you insulted."

He gave her a sour look, but gathered himself and half-bowed from the saddle. "I pray you will forgive my lapse of manners, Neesk," Thiel said in his most formal tones.

Neesk stood up tall on her shoulder, looking the high fae king in the eye. "'S okay," he replied. "You's forgiven."

"Thank you," Della said, and cut Thiel another look. He just sighed, though he did look chastened. All around them, the goblins who had watched this little drama went back about their business, perhaps with a certain satisfaction.

Sarah decided a change of subject was in order, and asked the question that had been lurking in the back of her mind since she'd woken up. "So, do fae always get drunk at reunions? Or am I just lucky?"

Thiel glanced at Jareth, and both men chuckled. "You're lucky, my dear," Thiel replied. "We do drink at festive occasions, and if I recall correctly, my son was the first to propose a toast to the breaking of the curse. And then I offered a toast to our happy reunion. And then Jareth offered a toast to you."

"By the end of it, they were toasting every course of the meal, every servant who walked in, and at one point, silver buttons," Della said dryly.

"Silver buttons?" Sarah laughed.

"Without which one couldn't keep one's clothes fastened," Jareth replied, with great dignity. "It made sense at the time." She ruined that by snickering at him.

They rode mostly through the forest, with the Fireys keeping pace by their mounts, but since none of them would take off their heads, the Fireys eventually got bored and moved on. Sarah smiled at them now; she'd been afraid that they were gone, somehow. As it turned out, they just hadn't been present for her last run because they weren't frightening enough. The wild gang, as they liked to be known, patrolled their stretch of forest eagerly. The area Sarah had crossed in her last run was now the domain of the beast of voices, which they thankfully avoided on this trip.

Jareth took them into the hedge maze briefly, their horses' hooves clopping on the cobbles. Mounted guards trotted past, saluting smartly, and from the back of her horse Sarah could see nipper guards in the distance. All was well, in this part of the Labyrinth.

"We do have a giant serpent," Jareth was saying. "It comes to this section occasionally, and the guards push it back. Normally it inhabits the stone maze, but I do not think it finds much to eat there."

"When you say 'giant'," Thiel began.

Sarah chuckled. "It's like forty or fifty feet. Giant. Scared the hell out of me on my second run."

"Closer to sixty," Jareth replied.

"And you just have random creatures appear in your realm, on a regular basis," Thiel said slowly.

Jareth shrugged one shoulder. "This is the Labyrinth, Father. It does as it pleases. Be glad we skirted around the beast of voices."

Having just thought of that monster, Sarah shivered. Della saw her reaction, and asked, "What exactly is that?"

"Bad," Sarah said shortly. "Very bad, is what it is."

"It emits a poisonous fog," Jareth said. "Worse, it speaks in the voices of those you love, telling you the worst and most hurtful things they've ever said to you. Then it begins speaking falsehoods, in their voices. It makes you doubt yourself."

Sarah shuddered again. "Yeah, no. I don't ever want to deal with that thing again."

"You dealt with it admirably the last time, love," Jareth pointed out. "I have hopes that it will disappear on its own. Few runners require such a creature, and the Labyrinth itself is keeping it confined to one small area. If not, we may need to take measures."

"Doesn't sound like something that would be easy to hunt," Thiel said.

"It almost got us both," Sarah said. "This is one time I could see where bringing Aboveground weapons into this place would be useful. I'd rather shoot it from a distance. A big distance."

"It doesn't sound that terrifying," Della ventured.

Thiel scoffed. "Not to you, my heart. But I'm certain it would tell me in your voice that you never loved me, you only used me to gain a kingdom and get out from your mother's thumb. And that I am a fool to let you rule me."

"Thiel!" she exclaimed, staring round-eyed at him. "You don't really think that, do you? Because it's … it's lunacy! And it's vicious, too. You know I'd never be so cruel."

"It takes your worst memories, and your worst fears, straight from your mind," Jareth said gravely. "With me, it began by repeating the words of my exile in your voice, Father. The gods alone know what else it would've said, if Sarah and I hadn't attacked it in unison."

Della gave a shudder of disgust. "If you decide to hunt this beast, son, tell me. I'll want a piece of its hide for even making Thiel think of such things." Her voice was suddenly cold, and its tone reminded Sarah that this woman was a bird of prey, not just a lovely princess grown into a beautiful and charming queen.

"And I would not let you go," Thiel cut in. "The only thing worse than hearing such words, would be learning what it would do to you, Della. I cannot imagine you in doubt or despair. I don't want to witness that." The look that passed between them made Sarah smile; the love and concern were so very clear.

Jareth cleared his throat, attracting their attention. "This is about the end of the tour; you saw the stone maze on your way in, and I doubt you want to see the oubliettes. We'll close with one of the Labyrinth's newest features, and a picnic lunch in the same." He winked at Sarah when he said it, and she grinned.

Which meant she was explaining to Thiel and Della how Umardelin had recreated her favorite park as they settled down on blankets spread over the soft, springy grass. "Sarah declaimed the lines from the play to me, in this park's inspiration," Jareth said teasingly.

"Oh, shut up," she grumbled at him, but her eyes smiled. "You just happened to be the right bird at the right time."

"Sounds familiar," Thiel chuckled.

The kitchen staff had sent out slices of cold roast meats, fresh buttery rolls, crisp salad greens, and a variety of sauces, with sweet cider to accompany it all. The four of them applied themselves to the food with a will, and Neesk even managed to eat a sandwich almost half his own size, after which he promptly fell asleep. Sarah didn't think about politics at all until Thiel asked, "So what plans have you made for the coronation?"

Jareth reached for another helping of fiery-hot sauce, and replied, "The guest list will effectively be everyone. The menu and venue are set. Sarah's going to be approving the crown design tomorrow – she approved sketches, but we need to check weight and fit, so any quibbles with the look of the thing can be addressed at the same time. All I need to do is arrange the ceremony itself, and for that I need your assistance. I can't crown her myself."

"Of course not," Thiel said, as if it were a foregone conclusion.

Della cocked her head at them, birdlike. "Why not? You crowned me, Thiel."

He sighed, sipping cider. "Yes, and all the realms know who you are, love. I put the crown on you to make the point that you rule through me. I am the rightful king by blood of Etaron, and you are its queen because you wed me. Our son is trying to make the point that Sarah rules by her own right."

"And I'm not?" Della asked, arching an eyebrow.

Thiel shook his head at her, amused. "No one doubts you could've taken Etaron by force, if you'd wanted. Gods know you run the kingdom now, more than I do. I crowned you to make it clear that it was by my choice that you rule as my equal." He grinned. "I may be the damned definition of hen-picked husband, but at least they know I chose this, you irrepressible, impossible wretch." Della smiled back, her eyes alight.

Jareth broke in then. "Whereas Sarah is human. I want it made very clear that she rules because Umardelin chose her, before I marry her. I will not have the nobles looking askance at her, as they did to my grandfather in Etaron."

Sarah noticed that Thiel's expression became very controlled. "You never knew my father," he said quietly.

Jareth reached out and laid a hand on the older man's shoulder. "But I know you, Father. And you bear your human heritage with grief. We are a cruel race, we fae, when dealing with those we think stronger than ourselves. Particularly against humans, who can bear iron, who bear children so easily. I have too much of Mother's temper to accept the scorn of my kind against my lover. So I will expound on the possibility that Sarah has some fae blood, and show them all that Umardelin chose her. If any nay-say her after that, then they will suffer her wrath and mine."

It was Sarah's turn to intervene. "Jareth, I don't care. If the fae are going to look down their noses at me for being human, let them. What they think doesn't matter. You love me, your parents like me, and Umardelin loves me." She hesitated a moment, but the depth of her feelings required absolute clarity. "The rest of them can go fuck themselves, for all I care."

The profanity raised eyebrows on Della and Thiel, and made Jareth look at her disapprovingly. A moment later, Della laughed. "Indeed! Most of the ones who would disparage you could use a private indulgence or two. It might sweeten their tempers. I'll make sure to suggest it, if they speak so to me. And in your words."

"Mother!" Jareth yelped, at the same time Thiel groaned her name. She only laughed at them both.