Jareth woke alone the next morning, the bed beside him cool, though it had been quite warm enough when he and Sarah at last made their way to it yesterday. Night had drawn down around them while they indulged in what Sarah had snickeringly called 'consecrating the throne', and it was late when they retired. Covered trays had been sent up to his rooms, and they'd dined quietly, the meal seasoned by mutual satisfaction. His sleep had been very thorough, and he'd anticipated waking her with another round this morning.
But Sarah had apparently been up, and there was a note on her pillow for him. Several messages yesterday, need to go up. Should be back in afternoon. If my reckoning is right. She'd skipped a space, then added again, If.
He sighed, and folded the note before setting it aside. Time was unpredictable, and she could be earlier or later than she expected. Very well, after having taken the Key from her yesterday, Jareth could not begrudge her the absence; Sarah was likely still annoyed, despite their enthusiastic reconciliation. It was not in her nature to forgive lightly, and he valued that aspect of her character. It showed that she held firm to her principles, and was not easily swayed, just the sort of determination required of a queen.
And queen he meant to make her, in name as well as fact. The time left to her coronation could be measured in days. Sighing, Jareth rose and bathed before dressing, going down to breakfast alone.
His parents were already there, Thiel making inroads on an incredible stack of pancakes, Della nibbling at her own share. She arched her eyebrow when her son arrived. "I take it you and Sarah settled matters to your satisfaction?" his mother asked in too sweet a tone.
"He's still alive, so she must've forgiven him," Thiel pointed out.
"Yes, we have, though her absence speaks to lingering resentment," Jareth replied, as his own breakfast arrived before him. He set to with a will, his focus already shifting to their upcoming plans.
Della wasn't done with him, though. "We were supposed to be finalizing decorations for the throne room yesterday evening, you know," she said with mock reproach.
"Mother," Jareth groaned, not relishing a lecture.
She continued with amusement, "I'd scold you for the obvious haste with which you barred the doors, since a far lesser mage than I could have taken them down in a trifle while you were distracted. However, despite the tapestries, the room echoes, so we were all very much aware of the nature of your distraction."
She was smirking at him, and damned if he would be embarrassed. "Now you see why I installed you and Father in the most soundproofed rooms in the castle," Jareth replied in the same sweet tones, and Thiel coughed in surprise. Jareth continued, "I will not apologize for myself or Sarah. Given her voice and my skill, a few seconds was enough to realize we were thoroughly occupied. If you listened long enough to embarrass yourself, that is your own fault, Mother."
Della sat back, bringing her glass to her lips. "If I was the sort to be embarrassed by my child's proclivities, I'd have died of it a thousand times over long before now," she shot back.
He could only shrug extravagantly. "Am I not the child of the loveliest fae princess in the land? And have I not inherited her beauty and charm alongside Father's virility and majestic carriage? It would be more cause for concern if I had not been so sought after."
His parents glanced at each other over this piece of outrageous flattery, to both himself and them, then broke into laughter. After a moment Thiel regained his composure enough to say, "Enough, the pair of you. We've been getting dispatches back, and it looks as though most of the kingdoms will attend. Your grandmother, unfortunately, won't be here."
Jareth frowned. "She cannot come, or will not?"
Della supplied the answer. "There is some sort of fever sweeping through Astolwyr, and she is loathe to leave her people. I know my mother, she is grumbling every waking moment over the ridiculous frailty of them all for falling sick so readily, even while she works herself to exhaustion brewing elixirs for them."
Having seen Iswyniel at work, Jareth could only nod. She was a truly fearsome sorcerer, with both more experience and more talent than himself and Della. If some plague required her attention at all, it was deadly, and kept her fully occupied. "Does she require your assistance?" he asked Della, a little worried.
His mother scowled, and Thiel scoffed. "She expressly forbid Della to come. 'Don't you dare stir yourself, I have this well in hand. And someone needs to keep a check rein on that boy of yours.' As if you'd go and declare independence or something equally foolish." His imitation of Iswyniel's sharp tongue was surprisingly good, and got a sigh from Della.
It could not offend Jareth, though he did begin to worry at the prospect of introducing his grandmother to Sarah. That was some time off, though, and he had more pressing matters to concern him. "Will Galeraessian come?"
"We haven't heard," Della replied. "Likely that daughter of theirs is having a snit, given what you've told me of her behavior at the Champion's Ball. They will pretend not to have received the invitation, I wager, and we will be glad of it."
"Sarah certainly will, and I should be quite happy never to cross paths with Lyselle again," Jareth replied.
Even then, he knew Lyselle would not simply forget him.
…
Sarah's phone showed yet more missed messages, including a text from Toby that just said, "Sorry". When she called her voicemail, and heard Karen's bright-voiced invitation to bring her new boyfriend to dinner, she understood his text, though she swore in the quiet of her bedroom. It was too much to hope that she could conceal the relationship, and unfair to her parents as well. Luckily she and Jareth had worked out a cover story between them, so if he agreed to come Above and dine with them, there wouldn't be any more awkwardness as there had been with her coworkers.
The second message was from Alix, leaving her a cell number and telling her to call whenever was convenient. Sarah saved the number in her phone, and went to the final message, which was from Amy at work. "You don't need to come in, it's all under control," she began. "You and the sexy beast from the across the pond are probably verrrrry busy. But seriously, I know you'd rather hear this now than later. Anyway, Mr. Wilson never came home last night, and Mrs. Wilson checked the bank accounts only to find charges from a couple bars."
Sarah swore out loud. The Wilsons were a married couple with a son, Jeff, just entering adolescence. Her firm had been called in originally because of the boy's misbehavior and poor grades at school. She'd quickly discovered that the problem was the father's alcoholism, and through a combination of persuasion and persistence gotten him into a rehab program. Don Wilson seemed genuinely repentant, and though he'd fallen off the AA wagon a few times, Sarah had really hoped he would stick with the rehab program and get himself clean at last. Sober, he was a brilliant man with a charming sense of humor, and she could see why his wife Jessica had stuck by him despite everything.
The problem was that once he started drinking, he turned belligerent. Sarah herself had once confronted him in the middle of a bender, and he'd looked ready to swing at her for demanding that he stay in a hotel instead of his own home. She'd met his glare with her own, and told him if he did strike her, he'd end up in the hospital or jail that night, and the steel in her voice had convinced him. His call to her the next morning was full of regret and horror; he had no memory of what he'd said while blackout drunk.
Sarah had hoped, very much, that she could turn this one around. He wasn't a bad man, just a man with a terrible problem, and she strove to help him and his family. Breaking them apart would be disastrous, especially for the son, but as Amy's message continued, Sarah was unsurprised to hear that Jessica had packed and left for a women's shelter. The last time Don had gotten drunk, she'd sworn to leave if he did it again, and they all knew that such ultimatums must be followed up, or they would be ignored.
Hopefully Don would come to his senses, get back in rehab, and really commit to staying sober this time. His addiction to alcohol had already cost him thousands of dollars and at least one job; Sarah hoped his family was too precious to lose. She was glad at least that Jessica and Jeff were out of the house, wary of Don's drunk temper, but for now everyone was safe.
The last message was from her mother, but it was just a pocket dial. Sarah shook her head and took her time with responses. First she sent a quick text to Toby, telling him not to worry. Next she sent Amy a message thanking her for the update, and asking to be kept apprised. Finally she called Alix, glad that it was a reasonable hour of the morning … then she remembered that Alix likely kept late hours, owning a club, and half past eight might be too early early for her.
The dryad answered on the second ring, and sounded more awake than Sarah did. They exchanged greetings, after which Sarah said, "I've got a few things to take care of today, but I can shuffle my schedule around as needed. When would be best for you?"
"I can meet you in Central Park in half an hour, if that suits," Alix replied. "Otherwise, it'd be sometime this afternoon. Which do you prefer?"
"Now," Sarah said, and heard a chuckle. "I have some questions, anyway, that you might be able to answer better than Jareth."
"Then I'll see you soon," Alix said, and they hung up.
Almost immediately, the phone rang again, and Sarah answered it, expecting the dryad. "Is there something else?" she asked.
"No, just your mother calling to see how you are, darling," Linda said airily, and Sarah just managed to suppress a groan.
"I'm good, Mom," she replied. "Just busy with work, as usual. How are you? How's Louis' show?"
She knew from long experience that Linda didn't actually want to hear the details of her own life; she'd pronounced Sarah's work stories 'too depressing', and virtually anything else would only remind her of some more-amusing anecdote of her own. So Sarah just turned the conversation back to Linda, and let her preen.
Her only concern, dealing with her mother's upcoming visit, was to make sure it was after her coronation … and what a mind trip that was, to think, no matter how accustomed she was getting to living two lives. Sarah knew that Linda would insist on meeting her new boyfriend, and she dreaded that too, but it would be easier once the stress of planning and pulling off the coronation was over. Just a few more days, she thought to herself, as Linda went on.
At least she had the excuse of meeting Alix – whom she described as a client, to silence any questions – to cut the conversation short.
…
Sarah hurried to her meeting with Alix at Central Park … but it turned out that Alix was even earlier. She was already sitting on a bench, swinging her feet idly, and rose as Sarah approached. "How did it go, with the runner?" the dryad asked.
"Well enough," she answered with a smile, falling into step beside her. There seemed to be no one else in the park at this hour, but likely that was a touch of fae magic. "She won her son back, and deserved to. Of course, Himself had to play the villain, and Umardelin let me help the runner, though there were some things I found I couldn't do or say. And then that sneaky asshole snatched the Key to the Kingdom off me, so I couldn't follow the runner all the way to the city. According to him, he won't be able to do that once I'm crowned."
Alix raised a perfectly shaped brow. "I daresay he's lucky to have survived outraging you so."
That won a laugh from her. "Yeah, we settled it with his unconditional surrender and promise not to do so again," she said jokingly.
Instead Alix looked more interested. "You do realized, once crowned, that you are considered separately entities politically? Since you are not his wife, you are his co-ruler. It might even be that some of your subjects, and even some envoys from other kingdoms, would make their appeals to you rather than him."
Sarah groaned. "Oh, great. Jareth would love that. But now I understand why he was all snarly over the remote possibility I might take over."
"Because you could, and rule alone," Alix said. "Jareth of Umardelin is not some young fool to be easily hoodwinked, though. Fortunate for everyone in your kingdom that you love him, and would not go to open war."
"Yeah, we're lucky like that," Sarah said. "Maybe the whole separate rule thing is why I wasn't as good at dealing with some of my subjects, this last run. The damn Fireys flat out denied me, and then attacked me. I did the whole magic explosion thing, but it seemed less effective that it did with the goblins."
Alix could only shrug. "I admit, the interaction of monarch and kingdom is not my area of expertise. For that, you'll have to speak to your king. But one thing I note – you speak of them with venom. Do you particularly despise these creatures?"
Sarah frowned. "Not really. If I'm honest … they were the only ones that really scared me, back when I first ran."
"Then your magic knew your fear, and was hampered by it," Alix replied. "Likely they also tasted your fear in your attack, whereas against the goblins you were purely enraged. Magic often responds as much to your state of mind as your intentions, which is why grounding and centering are so important."
"And also why I'm here now. I'm sorry I had to break our appointment." Sarah winced a little; professional punctuality and reliability were very much ingrained into her, though that was her father's character, not her mother's.
Alix waved that off. "I would be a fool to expect that you have enough free time to comfortably study magic, on top of everything else. For your own sake, and the entire city's sake, I'm glad you make the time."
"I've got to get this under control," Sarah said firmly. "At least right now I have time off from work, and whenever you have the time to spare – since I know you're busy, too – I'll gladly work on it. It's just this week. We're in the middle of planning the coronation, his parents are here, my family just found out I have a boyfriend and wants him to visit for dinner, plus my mother is coming to New York sometime soon. My life is going to be insane for about two more weeks. Right now, I just wanna grab the crown, slap it on my head, and call it good. Just get it all over with."
Alix fell silent for a moment, leading Sarah across into the Ramble and striking out off the paths. When she spoke again, it was with a strangely wistful note. "And then it will be another kind of madness, trying to work here and rule there. For that, I do not envy you."
Sarah paused in the dappled shade of the trees. Something about Alix's tone warned her. It wasn't a lie, but it was awfully specific. And she had an idea of what it could be. "You would be queen, if you could," she said slowly.
Alix turned to face her, slipping her glasses off. Her strange eyes were serious, and held no hint of coveting Sarah's soon-to-be crown. "There has never been a dryad queen in her own right," Alix said quietly. "My kind are not powerful enough for that. You know I cannot lie – I tell you this, I do not wish for command. But for safety? For the surety of having a place of my own, of power I can draw upon to protect those who trust me to lead them? For the certainty that no one can banish me, for the realm is mine? That, yes, I would love to have that much."
Now Sarah noticed the way the trees around them seemed to sway subtly against the wind, as if leaning toward an old friend. Alix smiled wryly, and shook her head. "I like to think I would wield such command justly. But it is a soap-bubble dream, Sarah, and we live in a world with many sharp edges. If it is ever to be, it will take many years and much grueling work."
Sarah's heart gave an unexpected pang at that. She liked Alix, and the dryad's words rang with sincerity. And she had a fondness for soap-bubble dreams, herself. "Jareth told me, sometimes the fae can carve out new kingdoms from the wilderness," she offered. "His grandmother did that."
The green-haired girl nodded. "Sometimes. It takes a stronger mage than I or any of mine, however. Your king's grandmother is the Sorceress of Astolwyr, and that one is a power known even here. Old, and strong, and of high fae blood so pure it's a wonder she even sees us lesser races."
"She married an owl, remember," Sarah pointed out. "I haven't met her, but she can't be that racist."
The terminology won a chuckle from Alix. "Oh, Sarah. The fae are not just racist, we are classist and elementalist and nationalist, as well. There are so many more kinds of snobbery amongst us. The water fae slight the drylanders, the African fae despise the Europeans, the physically smallest races scorn the human-sized ones as being overgrown and the giants mock us for being runts. And the dwarves hate everyone."
"And everyone looks down on the goblins," Sarah put in, and felt a familiar weight land on her back as Neesk scampered up to her shoulder. He wound a paw into her hair and grinned toothily at Alix.
"That's 'kay, we's short," Neesk added.
Sarah, meanwhile, huffed a sigh when she looked at him, which was rather difficult given how close he was to her face. It had been far too easy to come to care for the little goblin, but his comings and goings were not always the best for her nerves. "What the …" She just shook her head in disbelief before sighing at him, watching him with a smirk. "Where on earth are you hiding when you're not here, Neesk? I know you've been lurking somewhere."
The question seemed to perplex him, and he grabbed his tail to chew nervously on it. Sarah reached up and gently pulled it away from his sharp teeth. "Don't, Neesk, I'm not mad at you. I just want to know. You're always here and then gone, and never when I expect it – I want to make sure you're okay if you're up here."
"I gots 'partment in Goblin City," he said slowly. "But goblins can travel 'tween Above an' Under real good. So I's been sleeping in yer desk. Or in the floors. Keeps the mousies away, ratsies too. Friend-lady has candy in her desk. Is all right?"
Well, that answered that question, at least. But that did mean he was up here all on his own and for what seemed like her sake alone. The thought of that didn't sit well with Sarah. "So that's where you've been. If that's the case, I need to get you some snacks. Please don't steal Amy's candy; she'll suspect and it's not good for you all the time," she said. "But I'll get some for you, if you tell me what you like."
A thought occurred to her then; a rather large one to come up suddenly, but Sarah had to consider all that this little creature had done for her so far, in so short an acquaintance. He had had no real reason to that she could tell, only that he had decided for himself that he was her protector. Knowing that she could be setting herself up for trouble, she nevertheless offered, "Now, you can stay there, or you can stay at my apartment. I'll make up a bed for you and everything."
Neesk blinked, his huge eyes watering. "I can lives wit' you?" he asked, his voice trembling.
The look on his tiny face hurt her heart a little. Which was only fair, since it hurt hers to think that he'd spent so much time sleeping in a desk for her sake. Whatever chaos he might bring with him, it would be worth it for her to know he could safely rest if he insisted on being Aboveground when she was. The only worry would be when other people were over, but they'd cross that bridge the next time Toby was up. "Yes, you can live with me. At least then there's less a chance of you scaring me like that," Sarah said with a laugh and a grin, and Neesk flung himself at her, hugging as much of her neck as he could get his little arms around.
"You's the best queeny evers!" he squeaked.
Alix chuckled, watching them. "You treat your subjects well, Queen Sarah," she observed. "But for this exercise, Neesk, I need her complete attention. Would you kindly not interfere?"
He folded his ears back at her, baring those needle teeth. "Better be nice! You hurts our Queeny, goblins eats you."
Alix lifted her chin. "I have already sworn a binding oath to your king, Neesk of Umardelin," she said in formal tones. "No threats are needed. My word is my bond."
The sudden vehemence surprised her, but considering the threats to her lately, she couldn't be too angry with him. He was only trying to do his self-appointed job. "Easy, Neesk, she's a friend," Sarah echoed, stroking his back.
The little goblin stood up tall. "Friends prove is friends. Takes long time to prove. Oaths gets broken, meanies lie and pretends nice, bad fae steal and hurt. But goblins is loyal. We protects our Kingy and Queeny, we protects our kingdom. Anybody hurts 'em, we bites." And gnashed his teeth for emphasis.
