Author's Note: Rebel, this is the start of what you've been waiting for!

The next day, Sarah rehearsed the coronation ceremony. In the end, the most satisfactory solution, they had decided, was to have four goblins carry the crown to her, and then Sarah herself would place it on her own head. To that end, Jareth had chosen the four most reliable goblins he could find, that were also of a similar height and build. They were all nervous about carrying the crown, even though they were using what Sarah insisted on calling the 'stunt crown' for rehearsals, carved out of wood and weighted with lead shot to equal the real thing.

"Enough," Jareth said, when they'd dropped it at the steps twice. "Snargle, Lotacem, if you cannot walk backwards, you must turn around and hold the cushion behind your backs, like so." He arranged them again, and this time they made it up the steps to the dais without incident, though he had to call the other two sharply to order for walking too fast and almost over-setting the crown as they overtook the front pair.

"Watch it!" the one called Snargle growled, and one of the ones in back hissed at him. Lotacem looked over her shoulder and chattered her teeth, and only Jareth whacking his swagger stick against his boot prevented a brawl.

"You will work together," he said thunderously, and all four of them quailed – but not much. No goblin's spirit was ever suppressed for long, and on the next attempt the two in back walked so slowly that Snargle and Lotacem snatched the cushion from their hands. The crown bounced down the steps, taking out one goblin, and Lotacem collapsed in infectious giggles. Not even Jareth could snap at her, even when the crown spun to a halt at his feet.

Meanwhile Sarah was taking a long look at the goblin Lotacem. She was a spindly little thing, but bright-eyed and cheerful, which given what Sarah knew of her history was nothing short of a miracle. Umardelin had been good to Lotacem, which eased Sarah's heart in wondering about the other goblins' pasts. At fifteen, her baby brother getting turned into a goblin was the worst thing she could imagine, but for some it was a blessing.

Not that she was going to just let Jareth win anytime soon, at least not easily.

By the twelfth repetition, they got through it without a stumble, and Sarah managed to keep the crown perfectly level as she set it atop her head. Jareth nodded smartly, and told them, "Good enough, you've all earned a break."

The goblins scampered off to the kitchens for snacks, and Sarah flopped down into the throne. Her mind had gone on auto-pilot after about the seventh go-through and her feet were killing her. And this was only the substitute crown. This was starting to feel like the worst of her L.A. year. Cattle-calls, fifteen auditions a day. All of the details were making the thought of being crowned a little less glamorous. "If I'd known how much of a pain in the ass this would be, I'd've refused to be queen," she grumbled, leaning back with a sigh. "How did you talk me into this, again?"

"Hush, you," Jareth said, approaching her. He dropped to one knee before the throne, looking up at Sarah with both concern and reproach. "Do not say such a thing, lest Umardelin hear you and take offense. If I, who was raised with the expectation of inheriting Etaron, could learn to love this fierce and untamed kingdom, then you who so loved gowns and tiaras with never a chance of wearing them for real can do so also."

That had her biting her lower lip, her conscience pricking her. Tired and worn as she felt, the man really did have a point. She really did need to resist idle comments. "I would hope that she would know that, at this point, I didn't really mean it," she protested, wincing.

"Then you ought to know by now to be very careful to use only your right words," he scolded, reaching out to take hold of her chin and shake it gently. "You are Champion, and Queen. Not because you love me, nor because I love you, but because you love Umardelin and won her by your own merit. This ceremony is only a formality, Sarah. Yes, formalities are a pain in the arse, but they must be borne. Unless you wish to introduce that dreadful state of affairs called democracy, and then lower yourself to campaign for office."

Sarah kicked him – lightly – in the shoulder for mocking her. Jareth only smirked, and she sighed. "You're right. I just … this whole week has been crazy, and I keep feeling a little like I've wandered into a play where I don't know any of the lines. I wasn't born to royalty, Jareth. I'm just a girl from Haverstraw."

"You were a girl from Haverstraw, but since then you have become many things, one of which is a woman whose fortitude and courage I admire," Jareth pointed out. And then grinned. "If you feel outnumbered, love, why not invite your brother to the coronation?"

For a long moment, she could only blink at him. "Toby? You want me to bring Toby down here?"

"Of course, Toby. How many brothers have you?" Jareth said. "You would feel less alone, having someone of similar background at your side. And he has already met me, and knows the truth, so there can be no harm."

"Have you even thought about the logistics of what you just said?" Sarah scoffed. "This is the Underground. Home to nearly everything that we believe up there to be stories. Yes, he handled your glittery reveal pretty well, and he's more or less okay with his sister shacking up with the Goblin King, but you're the only thing he's experienced of down here." That had her worrying a loose wave, unconsciously curling it around her pointer finger. The worry for her little brother's safety trumped any frustration. Still, it was tempting. "He's never seen anything other than you and the goblins, Jareth, and at a year old. Even his memory of that is pretty fuzzy; it's been enough to spark inspiration on his artwork, but that's it. He was here in the castle, remember, not out there like I was. I don't want to risk him losing his mind down here."

"Toby will suffer no ill effects," he said breezily, as if he could hand-wave that into truth by willing it so. Which, she knew, was just a smidge beyond his powers.

Sarah frowned. "We can't know that until we try it and then what? Is there a way to repair a broken human mind after the fact that I don't know about? Remember, I know what the Fireys are now. And I know why you didn't try to bring me down here for so long, until we didn't have a choice anymore. I should have been far beyond the age to survive it; you mentioned once that I was too old to even be a goblin. I don't want Toby losing his head, dammit."

Jareth rolled his eyes. "Yes, I did fear for you when you returned. But there is quite a difference between a woman of nine-and-twenty determined to cut all the magic out of her life, and a boy of fifteen who has been here before and grew up on tales of the place."

That had her smirking at him, one brow arched. "Ah, so you do understand the difference in ages."

"And you do know that within the last century in your own country, girls of fifteen were commonly married with a child on the way," he shot back. "Do not dissemble, my Sarah. We are speaking of Toby, and fae madness. He will not go mad here, I would wager my own skin on that. The Fireys lost themselves as runners. There are a good many humans in the fae realms. You've met my head housekeeper, Marlene. Does she seem mad to you?"

Sarah couldn't stifle a bark of laughter. "She bought Beldych that apron, but yeah. I get the point. If you're sure … I'll think about bringing him down to the park for a few minutes, to see how he takes it. If he even wants to come."

Jareth eyed her wearily. "To stand beside his sister as she is crowned? I should think Toby would volunteer for the fires of hell itself."

Sarah groaned again. Speaking of Toby and volunteering… "Yeah, well, since he's become your favorite brother-in-law-to-be, I ought to share a little tidbit the boy genius let slip. He let our parents know that I have a boyfriend, so now my stepmom is inviting you to dinner," she informed him.

"I'd be delighted," he said, too quickly for her peace of mind.

That had her looking at him with what she was sure was the most comical stunned expression. Oh, come on. Why not make things even more complicated? Sarah sighed, running an anxious hand through her hand. "Oh, Jareth. Come on, I don't even know how we're going to do this. Look, I know you faked normal well enough for my coworkers, but you have to keep all the fae stuff seriously under wraps for my parents. There's no way to even try introducing anything fantastic there," she reminded him.

"It will be an interesting challenge, which we knew must be overcome sooner or later," Jareth said. "And if you've quite done with inventing trouble, Sarah mine, there is something I must tell you."

She took a deep breath. "Oh, God. Now what?"

Jareth grinned with all the wicked fae humor in his soul, and said in purring tones, "When I pictured the two of us and this throne, I rather thought it would be you on your knees, precious."

And, just like that, they were back on familiar ground. Sarah kicked him lightly in the chest for that implication. "Jerk," she grumbled, but she was grinning. "And I may take it under advisement once you put down a cushion – cold marble, even the magic fae kind, is hardly comfortable." If he was very, very lucky, she might oblige him. Someday. When he'd been particularly kingly and she felt like it.

"There's no need for violence," he reproached. "Did I in any way indicate that I object to kneeling before you, my queen?" So saying, he kissed her knee, looking up at her with heat in his mismatched gaze.

"Enough of that, you two," Thiel said sharply, striding into the room. Jareth growled and glared at his father, while Sarah squeaked, straightening to smooth out her skirt. She could feel her cheeks burning. The King of Etaron ignored both reactions with perfect equanimity. "You can turn the throne room into your personal love grotto once we've gotten Sarah crowned. Until then, get out. While you're taking a break from rehearsals, someone's got to plan the rest of the arrangements."

"I do so love being ordered about in my own kingdom," Jareth grumbled.

"I taught you how to aim when using the privy," Thiel shot back. He gave a deep bow, ending with a flourish, as he continued, "Forgive me for not showing the proper deference, Your Majesty."

There was no possible comeback for that, and Jareth was left simply to glower as he got up. Sarah was laughing too hard to rise from the throne, for a moment, but mastered her giggles at last. "You gotta admit, he won that round," she said with a mischievous light in her eyes, linking her arm through Jareth's.

"Unfortunately parents do seem to always have the last word," Jareth sighed. "It will be a delight to ship you both home after this is over."

"The duke keeping my court will be delighted as well," Thiel replied, seeing them both to the door. "His messages are growing frantic."

"I'd wondered how that worked," Sarah admitted. "How do you manage things when both royals are out of the kingdom?"

Thiel gave her a thoughtful smile. "I have a cousin who is fairly decent at managing his estates. Running a kingdom is simply a larger scale. Yet I can trust that he has no desire for my crown, for he finds it all dreadfully boring. A dukedom, managed by his capable wife, is enough for him to hunt and drink and entertain to his heart's content, and do as little actual ruling as possible."

"Maybe it's the wife you should worry about," Sarah mused.

Thiel grinned. "She, wisely, is too afraid of my beloved Della to make any moves in that direction. I'm sure you know not to let her sweet nature fool you – Della is as much a bird of prey as our son. She doesn't mind getting her talons bloody, if the cause is righteous."

"I'd guessed as much," Sarah replied, and then he was shooing both of them out the doors. Well, it looked as though another five rounds of practice were to be put off for a while. With all of the other chaos going on in her world, vacation or not, she decided now would be time to start the ball rolling with her family. Better now that later. Snickering, Sarah looked at Jareth, and shrugged. "I suppose I'll take that as my cue to go Above and return phone calls," she sighed. "Life doesn't stop just because you're scheduled to be a faerie queen."

"Must you, Sarah?" he asked, mismatched eyes rueful.

Just his tone had her smiling again, taking a moment to lean against his shoulder affectionately. Like it or not, just the way he said her name made it impossible not to love him, even if he was being a condescending ass. Which he currently wasn't, thank God. Jareth slipped his arm around her, holding her close. "Yes, I must, Your Majesty. I've got to arrange dinner with my parents, and if you're serious about inviting Toby to the coronation, I need to bring him down."

"I am quite serious," Jareth said. "I have rather much to make up for in Toby's eyes, and I'm practical enough to let Umardelin do most of the convincing for me."

And, there he was, right on cue as usual. "Ass," Sarah muttered, elbowing him. "If we really want to try this now, I need to start making plans for it. It's almost the weekend Above, I'm sure our parents will let him come down to the city to see me." The wince happened before she could stop herself, thinking on it again. How on earth was she even going to survive this? "Especially if I agree to bring you to Sunday dinner when he comes back."

"Then it is all arranged," Jareth said. He kissed her temple, and added, "Go then, and make whatever calls must be made. I shall await your return."

"You'd better, Goblin King," she teased, pulling away, but tossing over her shoulder, "Or the distraction will pay for it. Love you."

With that, she headed for her rooms, to make the transition via mirror, but Della met her on the stairs. Sarah's mind lost to her errands, she started at the sound of the older woman's voice. "Did you say you were going Above?" she asked hopefully.

With a sigh, Sarah rubbed her brow. It wasn't the first time Jareth's mother had implied that she would like to go; the thing was that Sarah knew too well the kind of havoc it could cause. This wasn't like taking a small-town cousin to the city. It was much more like bringing a pocket supernova in human form. A pocket supernova that would likely disrupt everything in hundred-mile radius. There was no telling what the fallout would be. But she had implied back that she would and she had reason to believe that the older fae knew the risks as well. "Okay, look, we need to make this clear now. Della, I see what you're doing here. I'm taking you Above because you asked politely, and I don't mind. Not because you finagled me into doing it, all right? Manipulation works great on most people, but I'm too well-versed in it and too damn stubborn."

Della gave her an apologetic curtsy. "I am sorry, Sarah. I have wanted so much to see the world Above again. It makes me greedy … and I am not accustomed to waiting on another's schedule. I hope you will forgive me."

She couldn't help but smile back at that as she returned the gesture. Charm was something that this family had far, far too much of. Best to stay on her guard and hold to her stubbornness if she didn't want to be completely run over as time went on. "Of course, Della, I did promise I would, didn't I?" Sarah said. "But weren't you the one who decided that you were supposed to be helping Thiel with the arrangements?"

"Let Jareth assist him for the day," Della said with a charming smile. "I do need to pick up a gift for my soon-to-be daughter-in-law's coronation, don't I? And it's always refreshing to have the company of another woman, when one spends one's days surrounded by men."

Sarah yielded at that with a laugh, shaking her head. Yep, far too much charm in this family. "Fine, then, come on. You'll have to borrow some of my clothes, which I hope will work. Because that is not going to work up there. Renaissance gowns draw too much attention, even in New York."

Della practically skipped with joy, and kissed Sarah's cheek. "Thank you ever so much, darling. I promise it will only be a short while, and I will keep myself well-glamoured."

Sarah lead her to her rooms, and they stepped through the mirror together. Even as Della blinked at the artificial light, Sarah said, "Take a look in my closet, see what suits you. I've got to call my brother, first."

Toby dove for his phone when it rang, his friends raising their eyebrows at him. "It's my sister," he said, recognizing her ring tone. "Hey, Sare."

"Hey, Tobe," she replied. "What's up?"

"Lunch break," he told her. "Look, I'm sorry I told Mom about your boyfriend."

"It's fine," she told him, while Rafe and Laquanda both looked up interestedly.

"Hotsauce has a new boyfriend?" Rafe said, pulling an exaggerated look of despair. "My heart is shattered."

"Shut up," Toby snapped, flushing. "I'm gonna go take this in the hall, if you have to act like that."

Meanwhile Sarah was chuckling in his ear. "Did he call me Hotsauce?"

"He's a moron," Toby replied shortly, heading out of the lunchroom. His school was rather laissez faire about hallway privileges, though they were strict on attendance and grades. "Seriously, though. It just slipped out. I'm sorry."

"And I said it's fine," she repeated. "Really, Tobe. They were gonna find out sooner or later. And it's the least of my worries this week."

"What's going on? Trouble in fae town?" he asked, worried now.

Sarah snorted laughter at that. "No, I … I'm gonna be crowned queen in a few days. And Jareth wants to invite you."

For a moment, he could only blink. Then he squeaked out, watching warily for anyone who might overhear him. "Queen? Already?! I thought that wasn't gonna be for a while! Thanks for the warning, Sarah!"

"Calm down, Tobe. You're getting 'queen' and 'wife' mixed up. And yeah, well, I didn't think it would happen this fast either, but he wants me crowned ASAP so people don't think I earned my title on my back," Sarah retorted.

"Eww, don't tell me crap like that," Toby replied immediately.

"You were pitching a hissy fit," she replied. "Anyway, do you want to come to the coronation? You can't tell Mom and Dad where you're really going, but I figure they'll let you come down for the weekend. And I'll sweeten the deal by bringing Mr. Kingsley to Sunday dinner, if Karen's okay with that."

"Dude, she's gonna give him the third degree," Toby warned. "And hell yes, I want to see my giant boogerhead of a sister get crowned queen, are you kidding me? I'll ask Mom tonight."

"You haven't called me a giant boogerhead in years," Sarah remarked.

"You started sleeping with the Goblin King, y'know, the guy who stole me as a baby," Toby shot back. He wasn't really mad at her for it, since Jareth had proven to be at least somewhat sensible about the fact that Toby would hunt him down and kill him if he hurt her. But it wouldn't do to let Sarah think he actually approved of this. "That's clearly boogerhead behavior on a giant scale."

She blew a raspberry at him, and he grinned. Sarah was so often serious that he counted it a personal victory to make her behave like a kid, even if her default was brattiness. "Real mature, big sis," he needled her. "Anyway, lunch is almost over and I gotta get back before Laquanda eats all my tater tots. When are you gonna talk to Mom?"

"Right now," she said. "I wanted to tell you first. You're sure you're okay with this? Coming Underground and all? I want to bring you down for a short visit first, make sure you can handle it. Normal people can go crazy, Underground."

"Apparently I handled it fine when I was still in diapers," he told her, though he was privately a little nervous. Her tone sounded like an understatement. "Just … do I have to worry about not eating or drinking anything?"

"No, not when you're invited," she replied. "Seriously, Toby. It's magic. That's not easy for a rational twenty-first century brain to handle."

"You're handling it," he reminded her. "And you're the most rational person I know, these days anyway." She muttered something under her breath, and Toby glanced up at the clock. "I have to go. I'll see you soon, Queen Boogerhead."

"I love you too, brat-boy," Sarah replied affectionately.

He hung up, and stared at his phone. I'm going to the goblin kingdom, to watch my sister get crowned queen, Toby thought, and it didn't sound any less ridiculous.

Or any less amazing. He'd have to bring his sketchbook; any self-respecting fairy realm ought to be loaded with inspiration.

Karen was all too happy to let Toby come up for the weekend, with the added bonus of meeting Sarah's 'new beau' on Sunday. Sarah extricated herself from the ensuing debate on what to serve, and the worries over how much cleaning needed to be done in the already-tidy house, with a little guilt. There were damn good reasons why she couldn't tell them the truth – Robert might think it was a flight of fancy, but Karen would surely have her committed – and still she felt a certain slinking uneasiness at lying to them both. I'm telling them as much of the truth as I safely can, she told herself, hoping time would make it stick.

She sighed, and turned toward her bedroom … where Della was just stepping out, having found one of Sarah's dresses in a dark blue that suited her complexion nicely. She'd kept the boots she'd been wearing, in dark gray leather, and seeing Sarah's glance added in arch tones, "I have no intention of subjecting my feet to your shoes, Sarah. I've no idea how you manage in some of those heels. Boots are different; I can run and fight in boots, if need be. Some of those look as if they'd turn your ankle the moment you took a step."

"I don't wear them much either," Sarah admitted, "just on dates. Guys like a girl in heels."

Della only scoffed. "If a man is looking at my feet, I'm doing something wrong. Well, shall we? Lead on, my dear. I've only heard rumors of New York, and you live here."

This excursion was beginning to sound fun, and Sarah smiled. "I know just the place," she said confidently, and with Della happily following – and marveling at the sights – she headed out to catch a cab. Breakfast first, and then if Della wanted shopping, she'd get the best damn shopping in the city.