Sarah waltzed with Jareth again, a little smile playing over her lips at how similar this moment was to her girlish dreams. A wickedly handsome king, a beautiful gown, a rapt audience, all of those elements were there … but this was for real, this time, and the gleam of delight in Jareth's eye was not seduction or conquest. It was pure joy at having her here, at his side, and finally crowned his queen.

To be honest, she was just as delighted. The world Above still pulled at her – she hadn't called the landlord yet about that faucet, and she still wondered about the Wilsons' case and how it would turn out – but for now that call was muted. Umardelin spoke most urgently to her now.

The simple turns of the dance, with their hands clasped, let Sarah enjoy this closeness and the approving looks from the other fae as they joined her and Jareth on the dance floor. It really was a dream come true, so many gorgeously-attired couples whirling through the waltz, and herself the best-dressed of them all. After all this time, in this ballroom, the true and correct face of that corrupted, though much-longed-for, dance took its proper shape.

"Savoring your triumph, my queen?" Jareth murmured, and she chuckled.

"Yes and no. Remembering a long-past, oft-repeated dance." At the mention, Sarah briefly raised an eyebrow, knowing he would catch her meaning, but then sobered. "If I'm honest, it's a hell of a lot better than the Champion's Ball," she replied softly.

"They thought you were a curiosity, then," he replied, his voice kept low. "And those were the young and indolent. Now we are surrounded by those old enough and wise enough to see you for what you are."

Her lips quirked up in a grin. "And what exactly am I, Goblin King?"

Jareth swept her even closer, spinning them double-time through a flurry of quick steps. "Power, and beauty, and royalty," he breathed against her cheek, and the girl she'd once been absolutely preened at those words.

At the end of the first dance, Jareth stepped back to bow to her, and Thiel arrived to take her hand. "Before the rest of them ask you a thousand questions," he told her, as Della and Jareth set out to dance. Mother and son made a charming pair, and Sarah laughed again to see how alike the two of them looked. A near-perfect matched set, Jareth and Della.

After a moment of following their movement with a fond smile, she turned back to Thiel with a question in her eyes. "After the last ball, I'm surprised," Sarah commented as they waltzed very properly. "Are they really that curious?"

Thiel scoffed. "Speculations on your possible fae ancestry, or some form of coercion to convince Umardelin to accept you, are running rampant. I have had to be rather boorish on the topic of this kingdom's stubbornness. No one sways her with anything less than sincere stewardship. I admit, Sarah, you've changed my mind about this place, but I still do not envy you in the slightest."

"At least you've tolerated all of it with as much kingly grace as possible. It's just as well," she replied with a fond smile. "If you started liking Umardelin too much, we'd have to watch our backs. And that's the last thing I'd want."

Thiel granted her that point. "She is best ruled by two who love her. Though with you two not being married yet, the swiftest way to secure a toehold here would be to seduce one of you. That of course does not apply to me, for I am happily married to a woman who knows the fastest way to a man's heart is a blade right through his ribs."

Sarah almost snorted at that. "Yeah, they tried that crap at the Champion's Ball. The most gracious way to describe my reaction was not pleased. Which is damn understatement. Your son has too damn many exes, and they all seemed to take particular glee in attempting to take my job. Oh yes, not pleased doesn't quite cover it." She was thinking primarily of violet-haired Lyselle, who had looked so poisonously at her.

"Then I hope for their sakes they know how fortunate they are to have left here alive," Thiel chuckled, and Sarah accepted the praise with a shrug and brief, amused bow.

The third dance was with another king, to whom she'd been introduced earlier but whose name Sarah could not remember. He had pure white hair, neatly braided down to his waist, and he regarded her with earnest interest. "You may not know, Queen Sarai, but it is very unusual for a human past childhood to adapt so well to our realm," he told her. "You are to be commended for your flexibility of mind."

She'd already decided not to give too much away, but based on what Thiel had said, she knew there would be questions. And the best answer was the truth. "I dreamed of Umardelin ever since my first run," Sarah replied. "I loved this place so much, coming back was like a dream come true."

"Then it is to all of our good fortune that you dreamed of the fae realms," he replied gracefully. "For we now have such a rare beauty in our midst, to be admired."

Sarah cocked her head at that. "Come now. All fae are lovely, to be sure, and I have been in the company of Cadelinyth of Etaron for over a week. Surely that's pure flattery?"

To her surprise, the king shook his head and answered her with what she was sure was honesty. "Etaron's queen is a great beauty, of course. There are many like her among the fae, and which is the fairest depends on one's taste. But you, Sarai, you are beauty refined, distilled, like liquor poured beside wine." He smiled then, a flash of amusement in his eyes. "I do hope your king knows what a treasure he has."

"Oh, I make certain to remind him, every chance I get," she replied, with a winning smile.

The next few dances were full of similar questions and coquetry. Every prince and king who took her hand seemed determined to charm her, and Sarah smiled into their faces and batted her lashes while chuckling inside. The ones who hinted at how she ought to explore other fae realms, see kingdoms beyond Umardelin, brought her closest to laughing aloud. As if their intentions weren't plain. But that realization didn't stop her from riding high on the attention and adulation. It was sweetness itself after the failure so many weeks ago.

Luckily for Umardelin, and Jareth, Sarah was not so easily seduced.

Jareth seethed. As if he couldn't see them all, trying to snare Sarah right in front of him! He kept his anger tightly leashed, not wanting it to bleed into the magic fueling the ballroom and the music. Umardelin was content, for the moment, and perhaps that was because his kingdom knew he would never let one of these gilded fools take Sarah from them both.

Thorvald had been at his side when he wasn't dancing, trying to catch up and to lighten his mood, but Jareth was too moody to be comforted. He eventually retreated to the sidelines, a drink in one hand as he watched the whirling dancers. It was Sarah's coronation after all, she was the one they all wanted to fawn over, and never mind that he'd won this kingdom's crown at risk of his own life.

"You're brooding," his father said, and Jareth startled, not having seen Thiel approach.

"Of course not," Jareth replied haughtily.

"Then you're sulking, and you're too damned old for that," Thiel shot back.

Jareth bristled at first, but he could not make himself deny the charge, and sighed heavily. "These bastards are trying to court Sarah away from me, mere hours after she took her throne," he growled. A new, worse thought occurred to him, and he added, "Or they're trying to replace me, here at her side. I ought to bog the lot of them."

Thiel looked around the room, and shook his head. "Sounds rather like what she told me happened at the Champion's Ball, only you were the one they were trying to court. Haven't you realized that petty royalty always lusts for more power?"

Grinding his teeth, Jareth met his father's gaze. "Yes, I had women tossing themselves at my feet, but that's nothing new. My bloodline and power cause that; breaking the curse only spawned a fresh rash of it."

Thiel tipped his head back and sighed. "Yea gods, you are so much our child. And so much still a child! Do you think it was any easier for Sarah to watch those women fawning after you? Or to know you've had, what, ten times her lifespan to sample them?"

That gave him pause, and Jareth mulled it over. "I suppose it was unpleasant," he replied. "But she has no reason to think I would abandon her."

"You must be vain and arrogant, my son, being her child and mine, but must you be lack-witted too?" Thiel complained. "She is a woman. They all think we will abandon them, at some time in their lives. Your mother has had her concerns of me, and she is Cadelinyth the Owl's Daughter! As if there could be any better."

"That's all very well, but Sarah abandoned me," Jareth snapped. "She closed the door on our connection. In her dreams she said she loved me, and so feared loving a dream that she locked me out of her mind, and herself out of Umardelin! I risked my kingdom to bring her back, she ought to know I would not forsake her. I have no such assurance from her."

Thiel boxed his ear, but gently. "Idiot. She risked her sanity to return, and her freedom to remain. What can any of these men offer her that you could not better in an instant? And even if perhaps they could, Umardelin would not lightly release her. And I do not see your kingdom sending in flocks of goblins to defend her. It must be that she is not tempted."

He could not counter that. Umardelin was perfectly content, humming along blissfully. If Sarah had entertained the prospect of leaving, even for a moment, Jareth knew that all of them would feel its wrath.

Which left him with one last, very selfish concern. "I still do not enjoy watching the woman I love being courted by every damned man in the place," he growled.

Thiel patted his shoulder with a soft laugh. "Welcome to my life, son. She is beautiful, and powerful, and novel. Best get over your jealousy now."

Sarah had just laughed flirtatiously at the fifth man to tell her how beautiful her eyes were, and the second to compare their color to sea ice. She stepped back from the dance, wanting a moment's peace and something to cool her parched throat. All of the attention made her feel silly, like her wildest princess dreams made real, like all of Linda's actress friends cooing over what a pretty child she'd been. It was ridiculous, in a way. None of the things that mattered about her were on their list of compliments, but it was still very nice to be the center of such approval and attention.

She'd just started toward the refreshments when a slim hand slipped into her elbow. "Sarah, darling," Della said, her voice light and friendly, but her eyes when Sarah met them were dark as iron.

"What?" Sarah asked, beginning to worry. What was going on? She knew Jareth had to have enemies, but he'd sworn none of them would dare make a move on such an occasion. What warranted the furrow in Della's brow?

"Not here," Della said, tossing a quick smile at the next dancer making a try for Sarah's hand, and guided them both neatly away. Sarah ducked into the hall with her, bracing herself for some danger, when Della turned to her and whispered, "If you are toying with my son, I swear to you, I will make you regret it with your last breath."

Sarah's jaw dropped. That was the last thing she expected, and her lack of immediate denial only sharpened Della's gaze. And her tone, though she kept her voice quiet. "I do not think you are stupid enough to forsake Umardelin, when she loves you so. Nor would she let you. But be warned, Jareth is not merely the love-besotted man you know. He did not win Umardelin only to be usurped, and he is a power in his own right."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second, that's not something I've ever forgotten," Sarah said, catching her hands. "Della, you've got it all wrong. You really think I'm capable of a lot more subterfuge and duplicity than's actually possible. I'm not playing a long con here."

One fine fair brow arched, and Della said, "You are playing to the crowd, though. I never thought I'd see you simper, particularly not for a pack of hounds like those."

Sarah could arch her brows too. "You've been a queen for five centuries, how do you not realize what this is? I've watched you do it! There are plenty of people out there who underestimate him, and Umardelin. I might as well smile and flatter and flirt, and let them underestimate me, too. If there's a game in this, that's it. I did not risk everything for your gorgeous idiot son just to walk out on him. I love him, I have for years, for good or ill. I wouldn't leave him, not now."

Della sighed, the tension bleeding out of her. "And you speak true, I can feel that in every word. Forgive me. It seems I've offended Umardelin and her queen in the span of a day."

"Not offended, just surprised," Sarah replied. "I figured you of all people would know this is just how the game is played."

Della scoffed. "Ah, but it seems I underestimate you, too. Few fall so easily in step with fae political maneuvering."

"I learned from the best," Sarah said dryly.

With that, Della smiled and kissed her cheek fondly. "Back to the dance then, darling. I wouldn't keep you from your admirers too long."

Despite Thiel's advice and Thorvald's cajoling and even his mother's reassurance, Jareth had reached the limit of his patience. One of the sniveling bootlickers had actually dared to kiss Sarah's hand at the conclusion of their dance, looking boldly into her eyes as he did so. Jareth was seized by the desire to bog the bastard then and there, and only the traditions of hospitality prevented him. If he were to break those and offer any kind of violence to his guests, without blatant provocation, he'd find himself on the wrong side of the High King again. Only knowing that stayed his hand.

But it could not stopper his wrath, and the kingdom felt it. Which meant the goblins felt it. And as soon as that particular foolish prince rose from kissing Sarah's hand so openly, he was taken aback by the sudden appearance of Neesk on her shoulder. The prince stared, and even Sarah started, as Neesk wrapped his tail around her neck.

"I thought you kept the vermin under the stairs," the foreign prince said sharply, and the music went silent, every head in the ballroom turning. Not a wise remark to make, and Jareth began to stalk over, feeling his temper's leash fraying with every step.

"Speak not so of my subjects," Sarah replied – no, Sarai, her eyes golden and her chin tipped up. "We will hear no such slander directed at those for whom Umardelin in all her power and beauty is their homeland."

The prince was uncertain how to respond, and in the sudden silence, Neesk's voice carried farther than usual. "But yer queeniness … we is vermin."

Sarah stroked his head, her golden gaze leaving the prince who insulted him. Ever so gently, she tipped Neesk's chin up with the tips of two fingers and met his eyes. "You are my vermin," she replied with maternal gentleness, then glared at the prince, all patient kindliness leaving her. "And no one disparages what is mine."

"Yeah," Neesk growled, baring his teeth.

"Spoken like a true queen," Jareth purred, and the prince made his bow and his apologies hastily.

Thorvald arrived at Sarah's side, and a princess at Jareth's, so they danced the next measure apart. Everyone was on their best behavior now, having once given offense, and Jareth chose to bide his time, for another measure at least.

But the moment he could get Sarah alone, he would.

All the ruffled feathers had been soothed, and every dancer since Thorvald had been particularly courteous. Sarah savored that. Let them look at her, let them scheme, but they'd better not insult her kingdom or her goblins. Neesk had disappeared as soon as she took Thorvald's hand, content that she was safe, and that thundery feeling in the ballroom had completely disappeared.

So she was utterly unprepared when Jareth took her hand again, and swirled them both out of the room in a shimmer of opalescence. Sarah started to ask him what the hell was going on, but he pinned her to the wall of what looked like a storeroom, and kissed her greedily. His hands gripped her waist, then slid up to cup her breasts.

Sarah gasped in shock, yet still returned the kiss with equal fervor. She gripped his lapels and arched into his touch, as Jareth growled. His magic swirled around her, touching her skin despite the dress, as if his hands were everywhere. And then he did let his hands glide down, rucking up the skirt, his nails almost biting into her bare thighs.

She had to draw back for air, and met his eyes gone iridescent. "You are mine," Jareth snarled, and claimed her mouth again just as savagely.

In the heat of the moment, bound up in the sinfully-good feeling of him on her and all around her, Sarah let herself be swept up in the maelstrom until breath fled again. Panting hungrily, she pushed him a hands-breadth away to look at him with chiding eyes. To think that he, of all of the beautiful and vain creatures that surrounded them tonight, could believe she could want another. That he could foolishly think that now, after the temptation of him for so long and this world that now included them both, that she could have ever dreamed of leaving everything she had ever wanted. "What did I tell you? Sex doesn't equal ownership, you demanding, vain, jealous bastard," she gasped against his mouth, looking up at him with what she knew was challenge and need in her eyes. "Are you really mad enough to think that I would even consider replacing you? You owe me, Jareth. After every trick you've pulled all this time, you owe me every single night we have for the rest of my life. You're stuck with me now, Your Majesty." This time it was her kiss that devoured, fingers curled tight into his hair, pressing herself into him just as boldly.

He hummed against her mouth, pushing her tightly against the wall so she could feel how much he wanted to repay her. When he could speak, Jareth buried his face in the curve of her neck, his breath hot. "And yet you are mine just the same, Sarah, Sarai, dreaming and waking, foe and Champion and Queen, mine as I am yours, mine for all time." And then he bit her, with passion and only as much gentleness as was necessary, his teeth writing his possession into her skin. "You'd best be certain this is what you want, for I would never let you go now. You are too perfect, for Umardelin and for me and for yourself."

"As are you. Too late now, too late for us both, Goblin King." That had her biting his lower lip, though not as roughly, one hand slowly raking her nails down his back under his gorgeous coat. The urge to do this here, now, where anyone could find them, burned in her, daring her to give in. "You seduced me with every temptation a dream could give, you made me love you until I questioned my sanity, then drew me back in when I wanted no part in this. It's only forever, you said. Do you think you can love me that long, Jareth?" It was her husky whisper in his ear now, reveling in the scent of him, clutching him closer. Store room or not, ball or not, crown on her head and decorum a must, Sarah found herself hard put not to tear at his clothes right now.

"I can love you as long as we both draw breath, and I will," he promised, seizing her in another kiss. They were both lost in a haze of heat, her name on his panting breath when he drew back for air.

She felt Umardelin's presence around her, but for the moment, her king had more of her attention than her kingdom. This was the union Umardelin wanted anyway, wasn't it?

And then a weight landed on her head, almost knocking the tiara askew. "Yous gots guests," Neesk said apologetically. "An' they's gonna wonder where yous is."

Sarah yelped in surprise, nearly dislodging him, and Jareth swore. Neesk squeaked and clung to her hair, whimpering, "Sorry!"

It took Sarah a moment to catch her breath, taking a deep breath to slow her racing heart. He had to stop doing that! With a gentle hand, she reached up to stroke the top of his head, letting him know that all was well, glancing at Jareth to let him know the fire was well and truly out for the moment. "Shhh, it's all right, Neesk. You just surprised us, is all," Sarah said, her cheek flushing crimson. How many times were they going to be caught in the act?

"Much as I hate to admit it, he has a point," Jareth grumbled. "It seems our kingdom will not permit us to embarrass her by going missing during your coronation ball."

She managed to chuckle at that. Little as she liked it, their land did have a quite essential point. The ball, and the night, could not last forever. And he was always worth the wait. She could bear a few hours more. "Well then, I suppose we have our summons. Shall we get back to it, Your Majesty?" Her grin was absolutely impish as she raised her chin imperiously and held her hand out with all the daintiness of her new station.

His answering smile was positively wicked as he stepped back and took her hand. "Yes, Your Highness. We shall let them all admire what a magnificent queen Umardelin – and I – have." And that had Sarah laughing gaily.