Disclaimer: Must I do this again? This is absurd, really. If you, readers, have not come to the conclusion that Wren does not own, well, anything, then you are all morons.

Anij: Errors? As if there would be ANY. I am shocked that you would look for them at all. And if being late to your employment is your own misfortune, do not think to blame me. And, might I add, you are welcome to have any goblin you wish… I have far too many as it is… wait. No. I was mistaken. You can have any besides Squyshee, for Wren seems to have a terrible fondness for that one… the loyal and semi-intelligent ones are terribly few and far between. Erm… let me see… I shall be generous and ignore your comment about Tillan, despite how humorous he would find it, I am sure… Ah, well, yes, I agree, she should wish to stay with me. Encourage THAT more, and less of this silly story nonsense.

Yami Moon: Oh, sniffle, sniffle, I am sure you will survive. Vacation… I beg your pardon? Wren was able to completely relax and rejuvenate while in my company – as she always does. There are no vacations from vacations – that is sheer nonsense. Might I suggest you take a good, solid, amount of time off from whatever it is that you do on a daily basis, and give your common sense some time to replenish itself. Absurd… vacation from vacation…

DanikaLareyna: Oh, it's you… again… Yes, I quite agree that Squyshee deserves some credit. He may very well be one of the most intelligent… well, the least destructive of my goblins. And, as you can see, he is terribly fond of Wren, which baffles me, entirely. I confess, Wren is a complete delight to be near, but I do not quite understand how it is that he enamored himself with her… Ah, well. At least he has not set any chickens on fire.

Contraltissimo: Hmm. Your comments intrigue me… they seem somewhat more intelligent than so many others do… commenting on the craft as well as the content… WHAT? TILLAN?! He is now your FAVORITE?! Oh, no, I must have been mistaken. HOW could you say TILLAN? I do not care that he resembles a silly character you are so enamored with from something else. That is just… absurd. Completely ridiculous. And, no, I am not being 'jealous'… Wren, yes, Wren should be your favorite, as she is mine. And Ridiculous Maxine INTRIGUES you!?! You, along with that Yami character, need to take a vacation and give yourselves time for your common sense to replenish.

Sammi C.: Quite the etymologist! Congratulations on creating your very own language, and translating it so that we all understand. And why are you looking forward to December? Your favorite month? I am looking forward to… January. Yes, why not? January is the most exciting month of the year, and I cannot wait for it. I shall, however, pass along your wish of luck. That was very kind of you. I am sure it will be appreciated. Oh, please, what do you think? That I have time to sit and sketch jewelry all day long??? I have a kingdom to run! And, when not attending to stately duties, I am courting Wren. That takes far more priority than your curiosity over what ring she wears.

Notwritten: Ah, so YOU are the one that fascinates people so… WHAT? Who took my clothes off??? Oh… Wren… NO! Might I clarify that situation a bit? Wren DID NOT take my clothes OFF! She merely aided me in my moment of sheer exhaustion by showing utter compassion and true adoration while being terribly kind in allowing me to keep my dignity. There IS a difference.

Karine Dragon'sheart: Why, yes, thank you, I shall! Blast, eh? Well, let us all hope not. As long as the goblins stay out of the burritos I had imported from Above, all should be well.

Greetings.

As you may all have assumed, it is I, His Royal Highness, Lord of the Labyrinth, Master of Magic, Jareth the Magnificent.

To dispel your concerns, I do have Wren's permission to access this, and document these very recent events. Wren is… occupied elsewhere…ts. Wren is… occupied elsewhere…ething that is for a professor or some sort of instructor in her schooling. I am not all that concerned. Regardless, she has requested – begged, pleaded, on bended knee – that I take some of my precious time and update in her place.

I was highly adverse to electronically publishing my comments for all of you to see and read at will, but, as you may well know, Wren has excellent coercion skills, and… I am not often able to resist her requests.

And so there you have it. Here are my thoughts and feelings regarding the recent issues we had with… what did she call it, again?

Oh, yes.

Thanksgiving.

It had been a very long day in the Underground. The Goblins had set a chicken on fire and set it loose in the gardens of the Labyrinth – something that is not the easiest to gain control over, I assure you. Catching chickens, on the best of days, when they are not on fire, is stressful enough, but flaming… yes, I was very worn when I noticed the time, and realized that Wren would be soon home from her work.

She is such a comfort to me. I know, many would see such affection to a mortal as a weakness, but I do not. Not Wren, at least.

When I was certain that I had allowed enough time for her to have traveled home and fully changed out of her work attire and into more comfortable clothing, I decided to visit.

Yes, that one time in which I came to visit a little too soon, was quite awkward, indeed.

I had my most dashing smile at the ready, completely prepared to catch her, should her day have been so utterly mind numbing that she be in need of strong arms to hold and comfort her.

I transported myself into her room and was rather disappointed to see that she was yelling on her small cell phone – completely ineffective, I say. Crystals are much better for long distance communication, and are far more reliable… except that mortals cannot summon or use them – and flailing her hands about in frustration.

"No, Lachlan! It's not a good idea… just… because I said so, that's why!" she was saying, gritting her teeth, "I don't care! She's you're girlfriend, you can entertain her… Urgh, no…. no. I don't trust her – haven't we been over this before? Orla says one thing, and then always – ALWAYS – does something else! I don't care what she told Mom. No…. Oh, please, don't give me that. It's not the same, and you know it. Zeke hasn't ever tried to steal your girlfriends, so don't even try to tell me…" and she continued on like that for some while.

I decided that it would behoove me to ignore the half-sided conversation, and wait until she explained what her trouble was when she was finished.

When she snapped her cell phone closed, she threw it on her bed, and made a very un-lady-like growling noise in her throat.

"Wren, my dearling," I said, doing my best to allow my voice to wash over her, "What troubles you so?"

She jumped, slightly, in seeing that I was there. Apparently, she had not realized I had appeared.

"Oh, gosh! Jareth!" she put a hand over her heart and took a step backwards, obviously in astonishment that I had come at just the right time. "You startled me!" No, I'm certain she only claimed that to be demure about her need for me.

I smiled, softly at her, "What has you so troubled, my Wren?"

Her ire dimmed and she gave me her soft smile. "Family troubles," she muttered, then looked at her bedroom door. "I'll be right back… just a minute…"

She stomped from the bedroom, leaving the door open a few mere inches. I took this opportunity to incline my head to see if listening to what may be happening outside of Wren's room would give me some idea as to what was troubling her so. No, I was not eavesdropping – such as would be extremely rude.

"Mom," Wren was saying, "What the heck? Lachlan and I are the only ones coming this year? I don't…"

"Honey," her mother said in reply, "Gideon and Julie are going to her parent's this year, Ezekiel said he might come, but he's not sure what Ruth has planned, Persephone can only come for one major holiday, so she chose to come for Christmas…"

I could almost see the look on Wren's face. Most likely her pretty eyes were getting very large and her head was turning to the side. "And what about Orla?"

And, from the sound of things, gritting her teeth.

Her mother sighed, "Why do you have to hold such animosity against your sister, Wren?"

"I'm not. Just… look, what did Orla say she was doing?"

"Hmm… well, she wasn't specific about it… just said she had other plans, and wouldn't be able to make it…"

My Wren growled, again, "Yeah, sure… you know she's coming, like she always does. She just wants everyone to be super surprised and excited to see her when she walks in the door!"

"Wren," her mother's voice became stern, "That's enough. If Orla said she had other plans, then she very well may have them. Her lifestyle is very active, and it changes frequently,"

"As do her dates," Wren grumbled. I do not think that her mother could hear that particular comment. I, as a Fae, have excellent hearing, when I apply it, and therefore could hear her very clearly.

Her mother was shuffling around in the kitchen, now. "So, Honey, long story short-" being that Wren was not near enough to hear it, I scoffed at her mother's endearment. Honey? Spare me. Honey is sickeningly sweet and terribly sticky, and it seems to spread all over, far too quickly, "-You and Lachlan are the only two coming this year! Wren, you know me and the holidays, I need people to cook for! So I suggested to Lachlan that he could bring a friend. I heard he is dating a lovely girl, and I'm anxious to meet her…"

Even I could hear the expectant tone in Wren's mother's tone of voice.

"Don't look at me like that, Mom. I…"

"Lachlan said you might have someone special to invite, too…?" Could that woman be anymore blatant in her attempts to pry into her daughter's private affairs?

Wren heaved a sigh, "Remind me to notify Lachlan that he's been demoted from the rank of my favorite brother."

The delight in her mother's voice was painful. "So there IS someone! Oh, I could tell. You've been so… so…"

"Mom, please, don't say it…"

"So perky! Oh, I must meet whoever this young man is."

Wren was silent. I frowned. What was her hesitation? I decided to relinquish my spot at the door and seat myself in that delightful chair of Wren's, the bean one, and watch the conversation through a crystal.

Wren was squinting… no, wait, she was frowning and squinting. Oh… I know that face. That is Wren's face that means there is something she does not want to say, but knows she should.

"Wren?" her mother asked, seeing her face. "What?"

She shrugged, trying to be innocent about it. "Nothing, really. He's… he's just a bit older than I am, that's all. I mean, not… not that that matters, right?"

Wren's mother gave her a look that suggested she was highly doubtful. "An older man?"

Excuse me? I am not old. Refined, mature, suave, but not old. Not by Fae standards, at least.

Wren smiled – most likely knowing what my reaction would be – and rolled her eyes a little, "Just older than me, Mom. Leave it at that."

Her mother turned, a bright and most likely fake smile on her lips (a nice smile, faux or not, and I can see where Wren inherited her own grin), "So you'll invite him? Please, Wren! And what's his name? I have to know his name."

"Um… Jareth Kendricks."

Oh, yes. I had forgotten. Mortals are obsessed with names. Why? I do not understand this… They always have to have a bloody name. Well, I suppose I should be thankful that Wren did not insist on changing my first name.

It was not very long before Wren returned to her bedroom and shut her door. She slumped against it, and eyed me as I sat in her chair.

"So... how much of that did you listen to?"

"I am insulted, Wren," I said, being completely truthful. As always. "You just assumed that I stood there and listen to every word?"

She nodded, "Pretty much. Not that I mind, in this case. But, please, save me the trouble of telling you stuff you already know, and let me know what you heard."

I sniffed, regally. I truly was insulted. But, none the less… "What have I been invited to?"

Wren sighed, "Thanksgiving dinner with my parents. As I'm guessing you already know, a it seems that Lachlan and I are the only kids coming, so Mom said we could each invite a guest… Lachlan…" she shook her fist in the air, "He spilled the beans."

I frowned, "Beans? Are you expected to clean them up?"

She smiled, "No… I meant that he told Mom I was seeing someone… well, okay, so perhaps he didn't say that specifically, but he sure did a fine job of hinting about it. Anyway, now Mom wants to meet you, anyway."

"Ah." This could go very wrong, very quickly, if I was not very careful. "And you are not pleased with this?"

She sighed and moved to her bed, throwing herself upon it, "Not really. I know you met Lachlan… that went well enough, I suppose. But… everyone else? I'm not sure I'm ready for you to meet them, yet."

I stood and moved to sit beside her on the bed. I reached out, taking a few strands of her hair in my fingers and began twisting and twirling them. I simply adore the face she pulls when I toy with her hair. "Let us think about this logically," I said, calmly. "Lachlan will be there, and he will be bringing… erm…"

"Nokomis." She said, giving me a funny look.

I nodded, "Yes, that girl. She was rather impressed with me, was she not?"

Wren snorted – a sound I have come to realize I am quite fond of – "You might say that. I think she's tried to book you for some David Bowie impersonations."

I sighed, "Yes… continuing on," I twirled her hair some more, "The only people who I have not met will be your mother and father. If ever there would be a more relaxed, and controllable, atmosphere, I would say that that would be it."

She looked up at me, her eyes round with worry, "Orla's gonna show, I know it. She says she won't be coming, but-"

I pressed a finger to her lips and smiled down at her, "Wren, do you doubt my fidelity to you?"

Her cheeks went an adorable and highly flattering shade of pink and she blinked at me a few times, "No. I don't doubt you, Jareth. I just…"

"If you trust me, then you have nothing to fear of Orla, whether she comes or not."

I am not fully certain what reaction I was expecting from Wren's mother and father, in first officially meeting them. I suppose, considering reactions I have received as Goblin King in the Underground – fainting, sighing, oogling, the occasional attempted fondler – that I was expecting at the very least something positive.

I could easily visualize different reactions from them, all very plausible.

Of course, I would allow Wren to lead me into their house, as though I had never been there before. I would stand and marvel at what a lovely home it is, perhaps say a few compliments on how 'cozy' it is. Then Wren's mother and father would step forward, and Wren would introduce us. Her mother would blush, appropriately, and her father would offer his arm to me, which I would take and shake in the traditional Aboveground custom. I would then follow the introductions with a few more flattering comments about their home, and Wren, and her parents would smile and welcome the two of us to dinner.

Yes, that was possible.

It was also entire possible that after our introductions, her mother would began gushing compliments of her own, telling Wren how happy she is that she was able to find someone so dashing and caring towards her. Then, naturally, her father would chime in, agreeing that he could not see any lesser man for his daughter, and was so pleased in Wren's choice that I would be welcome to come into their home any time I pleased.

Oh, that was sure to happen. I was certain.

But, I could also not doubt the fair probability that, after the swapping of compliments, her mother could embrace both Wren and I, saying how pleased she was that fate had brought the two of us together. That topic, of course, would lead her father to announce that should I wish to court his daughter formally, I had his complete approval to do so.

Now, honestly, I had every reason to assume some scenario of that sort. I am, after all, the Goblin King. True, they may not know that, but they seem to be intelligent people, and would surely recognize a dignified presence amongst them.

Somehow, I was not expecting the reaction I did receive. It was completely uncalled for.

Wren had insisted that I wear some traditional Aboveground clothes. I dressed similarly to how I did when meeting Lachlan. I also allowed Wren to, as she put it, tame my hair. While I see nothing wrong with my coif, stylish and fashionable as it is, I had to agree that it was best to err on the side of caution with her parents, and assume that it might be disagreeable to them. Wren was very kind in delicately tying it back for me, tucking in my shorter strands as she did so.

Wren wore a delightful ensemble of a flowing skirt patterned with various autumn colors paired with russet hued top that flattered her, beautifully. I chose to contrast her colors, choosing a buttoned shirt of a rich green with midnight trousers and my boots and gloves, of course.

Now, from what I had heard from Wren, her parents seemed thrilled that she had someone to bring to dinner, this year. I arrived out front of their home after I was certain that Lachlan and Nokomis had already arrived. His small vehicle was parked out front on the paved street. I rapped lightly on the front door, per Wren's instructions, and almost instantly was forced to take a step back as Wren popped out the door, shutting it behind her.

She was breathing heavily, and looking terribly flustered. "I don't think I can do this." She said, simply, allowing her fears to get the better of her.

I took her face in my hands, "You can, my dearling," I said, reassuring her, "For I shall be with you. Everything will be well." I leaned in and kissed her lightly – something, I believe, I do not do enough – and watched as her tension eased.

She nodded, "Okay… sure. Yeah, sure. We can do this. Okay… follow me…" She turned and opened the door, taking my hand in hers and leading me inside.

Mr. and Mrs. Neilson were in the front living room of the house, as was Lachlan. After a look at Wren, Lachlan jumped forward, "Ah, Jareth, nice to see you again," he said, jovially, offering me his hand.

I shook his hand, nodding to him, "Lachlan, yes, it is good to see you again, as well."

Apparently, Nokomis has keener ears than I assumed she did, for upon hearing my voice, her head appeared from around the corner and she came dashing into the room. "Jareth!" she all but squealed, "Wow, glad to see you here! I didn't know if you'd come… Wren said she wasn't sure if you could make it!"

I inclined my head to Nokomis, reaching out and squeezing her hand gently in greeting – the proper way would have been to kiss the lady's hand, but I had enough foresight to decide against this, for the sake of Wren's parents, who may not understand. "Lovely Nokomis, I am glad that you are here as well. It is a pleasure to see you again."

Then I turned to Wren, who was chewing her lower lip, fretfully. "Dearling, would you please introduce me to your parents?"

She nodded and stepped up between us. "Mom, Dad," she said, shakily, "I'd like you to meet Jareth Kendricks. Jareth," she motioned to her parents, "This is my Dad, Frank, and my Mom, Sally."

I stepped forward and bowed politely to both of them. I began to utter several compliments about how lovely their home was, and how thrilled I was to meet them…

But neither of them moved. Both were gawking at me – rather undignified – as though I had an extra head. I looked to the side, quickly, to make certain that I did not. Once that was assured, I looked at Wren.

Wren sighed and cleared her throat. "Mom, Dad, aren't you going to say hello to my boyfriend?"

Her mother blinked and quickly reached out to me, "Oh, yes, of course! Welcome!"

"Thank you," I replied. This was not going as planned…

Before I even had a chance to compliment Sally on her beauty, which she obviously passed to her daughter, the woman turned to Wren, saying, "Wren, sweetie, come help me with the potatoes, in the kitchen…"

"What? Whoa!" Sally took Wren's arm, nearly pulling her beyond my sight.

I, the Lord of the Labyrinth, Master of Magic, King of the Goblins, was left with Wren's father – where had Lachlan and Nokomis gone??? – and… did not feel particularly brave about it.

"Mr. Neilson," I said, nodding to her father.

He did not have a kind greeting in response. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest and regarded me as though I were some kind of vagrant who had invaded his home. The nerve!

My keen hearing overheard something in the kitchen being said between Wren and Sally… I believe Sally was demanding to know whether or not Wren had given me… her Social Security Number? Whatever that meant…

But I was a bit too preoccupied with Wren's father to be bothered with other conversations.

"So, Jareth…" the man began, "What do you do for a living? You do have a job, don't you?"

I lifted my head at that insinuation. If he only knew. "Why, of course I do. Two, actually," I was pleased to note that this seemed to shock Frank, "I am in the childcare profession, dealing with the removal and relocation of unwanted children. But, when money is…" I quickly recalled some monetary terms I had heard Wren use, "…tight, I fill in on weekends as a security guard."

The man twitched an eyebrow at me. He reminded me vaguely of Lachlan… that is, if Lachlan were taller and ate more pastries. "Nice accent – you're British, I can tell. Are you legal, here? You're not looking for a green-card, are you?"

What in the name of the Underground was a 'green-card'? "I am very legal here. Why would you assume I am not?"

He raised his eyebrows in a mockingly innocent fashion, "Just curious." Good heavens, I could see where Wren got her snappish side. "You ever been married before?"

Oh, now that was not a question I was expecting. I clamped my teeth down on my tongue to forestall the comment that threatened to blurt out… something demanding to know what this 'Thanksgiving dinner' was all about. Instead, I thought about it, carefully… his pidgin English was worse than Wren's! It was easy to misunderstand… I selected my words carefully before answering.

"I have not yet found someone special enough to share my life with, no." Were all mortals so prying? Or was this just fatherly concern for Wren?

His eyes narrowed – oh, yes, I recognized that expression from Wren, as well – and he said, in a whisper with enough venom to rival my own, when I chose to use it, "You have kids?"

I snorted, "I am in the childcare profession, am I not? Did I not just explain that to you?"

The man shook his head, "No, I meant do have… children of your own."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "We also covered that, as well – I am not married, nor have I been so committed to another. Why would I have children, if not in a bond for which said children would be raised in a loving and caring environment by both a mother and a father?"

I kept my face lightly confused, but inwardly smirked. My response completely confused the man… I am sure he saw me as quite the womanizer, as so many usually did. But, to my dismay, he continued his prodding when his mind came up with another question for me.

"Well, then for a man your age, what, are you afraid of commitment?"

Oh, now that terribly stressed my limits of patience. I steeled my eyes at him and frowned, "Mr. Neilson," I said, as sternly as I could without passing as rude, "If I were, I would not be here, enduring your interrogation, for the sake of your daughter, whom I care very much about."

Lachlan suddenly reappeared in the room – hmm, perhaps he had gone to rescue Wren from her mother? – and looked highly flustered, "Dad!" he said, "Lay off, please! Jareth is a guest, not applying for a job!"

I gave Lachlan a brief glance of gratitude, however little of it he deserved for deserting me so, and turned back to Frank. He was now smiling at me, nodding slightly, as though her were at least minutely impressed with my answers.

The change in attitude towards me was more than startling. The man reached out an arm, put it over my shoulder and slapped me forcefully on the back – nearly knocking the wind from my lungs! "Nah, I'm just getting to know him, right Jerry?"

I winced. He was as bad as a fan fiction.

"Come on now," Frank said, wrapping his other arm around his son, "Let's go see if the game is on, yet…"

Well… it was not the flattering scenario I had envisioned, but I was willing to accept it as quite the improvement. Perhaps things were looking up…

Football is nothing but incomprehensible nonsense, if you do not know. But, of course, this was merely my opinion of it before the game even began. Whatever is the point of a 'pre-show'? It is absurd. But, all the same, I was good-natured, and sat and watched, mindlessly agreeing and nodding my head and giving non-committal answers.

I was exceedingly grateful to Wren, when she came in, obviously sensing my boredom, and asked for my help in the kitchen.

It was all I could do not to leap in there, away from the droning television.

"Dearling, what can I assist you with?" I asked, briskly following her.

She smiled at me, then leaned in closely, whispering where only I could hear, "Hey, how you doing? Did Lachlan save you in time?"

I gave her a small laugh, "He arrived just in time for the interrogation to end."

She frowned, "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have let Mom pull me away…"

"Do not be," I said, taking her hand gently in my own, "I believe your father has more trust in me."

This brightened her outlook, considerably, and she raised her voice to where Nokomis and Sally could hear as well. "Would you like to help me with desert?" she asked.

Ooh. That sounded interesting. "Cookies?"

Wren snorted a little, and Sally laughed considerably. At first, I was not sure whether or not to be offended by this, but after a moment I realized Sally perceived my comment as a joke. That could only mean that cookies were out of the question. Bugger.

Wren recovered from her mirth. "I think it's time we expanded your repertoire of deserts…" then, added quietly, "Above ground deserts…"

Oh, I was willing for that.

"What are you going to prepare?" I asked, sincerely curious.

"Pie," she said. "Pie is very traditional… this year, I get to make the pumpkin pie. C'mon, you can help me."

I began assisting as best I could. Wren was kind enough to include me on the kitchen conversation, and asked for help with measuring ingredients from time to time. Pie is very fascinating! The crust alone is nearly an art! Sally was also very congenial towards me, seeing how ready I was to abandon the television set and assist in the kitchen. Apparently, that is a very important thing to Aboveground women.

Overall, things were seeming to look up…

But then, the telephone rang. Wren and I had just put her pie in the oven, and she hopped over to answer it. I watched – she was adorable when happy.

"Hello? Oh, hey Gid! How… what?" and then she paled.

"Wren," I gasped, seeing how white her face had become. I dashed to her side, instantly, "Wren, are you feeling well? What is the matter?"

She hung up the phone, looking terrified. Sally even looked bewildered at her daughter. "Wren, sweetie, is something wrong? Is Julie doing well? The kids? Are the kids all okay?"

Wren was shaking, and her eyes were huge. "They're coming."

Sally laughed and sighed, waving a dismissive hand at Wren, "Oh! Is that all? Well, that's good news, hon! We haven't seen Leyla since before she could walk! You should be pleased."

Wren shook her head, looking at me, "No, mom. They're ALL coming."

Sally slowly turned to look at Wren. "All?"

Wren nodded, "Gideon just called to say that Julie really wanted to come and see us this year, her parents had some other things going on, and," she gulped, "She talked to Ruth. Now Ezekiel and Ruth will be coming, too."

Sally paled, "Oh my – everyone? Oh…"

My poor Wren! Her face looked so resigned! "Gid said they're bringing a turkey, too, so there will be plenty, and you know Julie and Ruth will have stuff to contribute."

Her mother's face lifted, "Well, then there's nothing to worry about, is there? FRANK! GUESS WHAT? ZEKE AND GID WILL BE COMING!"

Before I had a chance to blink, Wren had pulled me down towards her bedroom, out of the kitchen and out of earshot from her family. "Wren," I said, worried. She looked terribly like she was ready to have an anxiety attack, or worse, "Are you well?"

She grabbed my hands, shaking like a leaf, "No, I'm not. Jareth! My brothers are coming! Gideon and his wife, Julie, and their three kids, then Ezekiel and Ruth and their two girls – Jareth, they're all going to be here, and I don't think I'm ready for this!" she was breathing far too fast.

"Calm yourself," I said quietly. I glanced down the hall, assuring that we were alone, then summoned a crystal and pressed it into her delicate hands, "Squeeze it, Wren, between your hands. It shall help. It will vanish in a moment."

She nodded, listening to me, for once. I pulled her to me, folding her in my arms as she buried her face in my chest. "Better," she muttered.

I smiled into her hair. "It is going to be fine, my dearling. Stop worrying. I have faced your father – I doubt your brothers will be any more difficult."

Ezekiel was the first to arrive. Well, to be fair, the first to arrive were Ezekiel's twin daughters, who came into the room making as much noise as two five-year-olds can. Sally was delighted. She came into the room with a squeal, grabbing them up and… well, much noise followed.

For the next few minutes, the house was alive with noise as greetings were made, children were hugged, and extra places at the table were set.

I stood towards the back of the room, watching the scene before me. It was… amazing. Almost overwhelming, even for I. Not for the noise, as a castle of goblins tends to give one a near immunity to such things, but for the compassion. Wren dashed over and hugged her sister-in-law, Ruth, then giggled and kissed each of her nieces… I marveled at it all. Such a family I have never known.

But, my marveling was cut short. Wren threw a glance over her shoulder, indicating that she wanted to introduce me, but before she had the chance, another voice entered the room, via the front door.

"What? Not saving any for us?"

Everyone turned to see who I assumed was Gideon – an impressive man, about my own height – entering with opened arms for his family. As he and his family entered, the noise doubled, as did the greetings. Now, I had to blink, there were children everywhere.

The two red-haired twins nearly ran me down. The hit me before they noticed I was even there.

They looked straight up and their mischievous eyes widened in shock and fear. I grinned down at them. "Hello," I said.

They both looked at each other, screamed, and ran the other direction. Had I not been in such an intimidating atmosphere, I would have found such a reaction rather humorous.

The twins' screams brought the attention of the entire room upon my own head. I smiled coolly. I was accustomed to such scrutiny. What I was not accustomed to was the inability to take it without glaring in response… I could not. This was Wren's family. I had to, as she had put it, "Be nice."

It did not escape my notice that Wren's two eldest brothers each looked at one another before turning slow, disbelieving eyes to their youngest sister, who was occupied with her two nephews, who had attached themselves to her arms.

I coughed, politely. Wren looked up, noticed the attention of the room, and peeled herself away, quickly running to my side.

"Everyone," she said, her voice quavering noticeably, "I would like you all to meet Jareth Kendricks… my boyfriend," I could not suppress the grin that came from seeing her blush terribly at saying such to her family, "And Jareth, I'd like you to meet my family."

She proceeded to name those I had not previously met. "Um, this is Ezekiel, Ruth, and their girls – you met them, I see – Melody and Harmony. Then there's my oldest brother, Gideon, and his wife, Julie, their two boys, Isaac and Albert,"

"Berty!" the young boy said, turning a little red.

Wren grinned and laughed, "Sorry, Berty. Then… wait a minute…" she looked around, frowning, "Where'd she go…" Julie and Gideon also began looking around.

At that moment, I noticed something had taken hold of my leg, from behind. I had not noticed it at first, for I am, as Goblin King, fairly accustomed to small things attaching themselves to my boots. But here, in the Aboveground?

I blinked a few times and looked down. There, standing behind my leg and peeking around to look up at me, was a very tiny child in a pink shirt, pants, tiny shoes, and a great mass of golden wavy hair spilling all around her darling face.

"Well, who would you be?" I asked. Her face darted back behind my calf.

Wren looked startled. "Oh! Whoa, there she is!" she stepped around and picked up the child from behind me, holding her on one hip. The small child instantly entwined her fingers in Wren's hair and hid her face behind it. Wren laughed, "This is Leyla."

I stooped down so that I could look the child in the eyes. "Why, hello there… Leyla?"

The little girl pulled more of Wren's hair in front of her face, and didn't say a word. Wren, however, smiled at me, lightly, "She's always – well, almost always – a little shy," she set the tiny thing back down upon her feet, and she scampered off to hide behind her mother.

Gideon stepped forward, then. "So, Jareth? Not a name you hear every day."

I smiled at him, lightly, "I might say the same of you, Gideon, though I would wager that your name may be more familiar than mine, given the biblical reference."

The tall man nodded, "I suppose. Your name is a little familiar, though…" his eyebrows knit together and he looked at me as he searched through his memory.

This seemed to upset Wren, who jumped forward, "It was Orla's best friend's, um, ferret, back in high school, remember, Gid?" I frowned at her. Ferret? What was she trying to imply? Could she not put my name on a stallion, a great bear, a loyal dog, or, oh, say, a barn owl?

He looked at Wren before squinting up at the ceiling for a minute. "That might be it… Now that you mention it, I'm pretty sure it's something Orla had mentioned, so, yeah, you're probably right."

He once again turned to me, offering me his hand, "It's nice to have you join us, today, Jareth. I hope you don't have anything against kids… mine will more than likely seek you out and talk your ears off…" he rolled his eyes, much as I have seen Wren do on so many occasions, as his eldest son began chatting noisily to Sally about something or other.

"Not at all," I said, "I work with children often. They are no trouble at all."

Ruth, Ezekiel's wife approached us, then – conversation within the rest of those in the room had resumed – and perked up when she heard me speak. "Hello," she said, reaching out to shake my hand quickly, "Sorry my girls ran into you earlier. I couldn't help notice your accent. You're British, aren't you?"

Wren tensed, but this was a question I knew I could handle well. "Oh," I said casually, "I have spent quite a bit of time in England, but you might say that I am from 'all over', but, to be more specific, I was not born in America."

She nodded, "Where else have you been?"

I shrugged, "Nearly everywhere,"

Wren grabbed my arm and began pulling me into the kitchen, "Hey, Jareth, lets go check that pie…"

I looked at her, curiously, "Did I say something inappropriate?"

Wren laughed, still keeping a firm grip on my arm, "No, you were great, but I just don't want Ruth to start asking questions that… she grew up in a military family, so she's been all around, too. She'd want to compare notes… but I am serious about the pie. We really need to check on it."

I shrugged and allowed her to lead me into the kitchen. Gideon's eldest son, Isaac, was in there, looking up at me with a curious gaze. When Wren released me to check on the pie, I turned to him. He seemed to be wanting to talk to me and also somewhat frightened to do so. I seated myself in one of the kitchen chairs, hoping to alleviate his fears. Despite what people may think, I do not wish to be imposing to young children – unless, of course, they have wished away a sibling and have the expectation of me to be frightening.

Isaac looked very much like his father. He was tall for his age, with sandy-blonde hair. Even in him, I could definitely see the resemblance to his aunt.

"I like your boots," he said at last, "But you're not very country. Why wear boots, if you're not a cowboy?"

Wren threw a dish towel at him, "Isaac, that's not very nice."

I laughed and waved a hand at Wren, "No, no, I do not mind such questions, Wren," I turned to the boy, "I wear them because I prefer them…" I leaned forward and gave him a wild grin – as Wren watched – saying, "The better to stomp goblins with."

Wren snorted and went back the oven.

Isaac, though, did not seem impressed with my little joke. "Goblins don't exist."

I leaned back in my chair, "Oh? Is that so?" This one amused me.

The boy folded his arms across his chest and gave me a proud smile, "I've read about them. According to medieval English folklore, they're helpful imps or household spirits. In Scotland, they're called brownies and in Germany they're called kobolds. They attach themselves to families and move into their homes, but they really like isolated places like farms and cottages. Goblins supposedly vary in size, but are mostly smaller than humans and have gray hair and beards with distorted faces with extra fingers or missing ears and stuff like that. Their smile can kill humans," I noticed that Wren snorted at that, "and their laugh can make fruit fall off trees and kill farm animals and whatnot, so it's best to keep them happy and not get on their bad sides. But that's just old folklore, they don't really exist. "

Now where did he gather all that tripe?

I smiled at him, "I wonder, though, how many families died, trying to keep the goblins happy?"

He shook his head, "No, they wouldn't die if they kept them happy you see…"

I raised a finger, "But, if the goblin is happy, they would smile and laugh, and therefore kill the family. It would be prudent to keep the goblin unhappy by that logic… and yet an unhappy goblin could be dangerous as well…"

"Jareth," Wren said, mockingly, "Leave Isaac to his happy nerdy-ness," the boy started to protest that he was not, in fact, a nerd, and he threw the dish towel back at his aunt, but she turned to him as well, "And Isaac, stop flaunting what you've read from your Harry Potter encyclopedia books. Jareth is the wrong person to argue with, believe me."

I stood, ruffling the young man's hair and followed Wren back to the stove, where she had sat her pie to cool. I leaned into her ear, "Besides, Squyshee would be devastated if he thought his laughter would ruin the fruit he loves to eat, would he not?"

She giggled and elbowed me. I kissed her cheek and wandered from the kitchen.

I paused, looking over my shoulder. Under the kitchen table, close to where I had been sitting, was Leyla, crouched down and watching me with wide eyes. I smiled at her. She quickly dashed from the room.

Ruth and Julie had brought more food with them – how much did humans eat in one setting on Thanksgiving? – and set it up in the dining room on the table. Sally and Frank were very thrilled to have a reason to use their fancy table and dining room – Wren explained that the kitchen table was what they typically used to eat on, and what we probably would have eaten on had there not been so many more family members present, but with so many, the parents opened up their most elaborate room and prepared it to accommodate the entire family, Nokomis and myself.

I made a mental note to later thank Wren for inviting me to this family meal. Large families are nearly unheard of in the Underground, the Fae generally being limited to one or two children in a family. The Neilson's were astounding to me. Four out of their six children (did they even know how wonderful that was?) and two of them had more than one child each of their own as well! And here they were, all together, and happy. I was also amazed at, what would it be called? Family resemblance? With one or two children, it is nearly impossible to determine which traits, if any, are passed to the children. But, as I sat down beside Wren at the dinner table, and looked around at all the faces before me, each one had something I recognized. Several had eyes like Wren, others had hair, hands, a posture, a build… they were each different and also so very alike. It was very fascinating. I would have to tell Myanya, later.

Sally was the last to enter into the dining room. I inquired as to why, and Wren explained that she was bringing in the Turkey, which was the meat that was traditionally eaten on Thanksgiving. I nodded and waited. Turkey's were not unfamiliar to me, for we do have them in the Underground.

I frowned when she entered. The bird was on a large platter, fresh from the oven, heated and cooked to a golden brown. Everyone made appreciative noises as Sally sat the bird down in front of her husband, Frank, who sat at the head of the long table.

Wren saw my frown and nudged me, "Something wrong?"

I shook my head, "No, nothing is wrong…"

"Then what's with the frown?"

"It's not purple…"

Wren coughed, "Purple turkey's?"

Julie, who was across from Wren, looked up, "What's purple?"

Isaac, who had curiously decided to sit beside me, clarified the situation, "The turkey!"

Sally looked alarmed, "What about my turkey?"

"It's purple," said the little red head across the table (I believe it was Harmony).

Nokomis, who sat on the other side of Wren, giggled, "Turkey's aren't purple…"

I frowned, "Truly?"

Wren kicked me, under the table, and her voice rose in pitch, "You kidder… stop joking with the kids! Mom, your turkey is lovely… Dad? Are we ready to say the blessing?"

He nodded, eagerly, "Yes we are. Would one of our guests like to offer it? Jerry?"

This startled me more than the turkey had. Poor Wren… she looked positively stiffened with fear over this. I knew it was customary to 'bless' the food for many in the Aboveground, but I knew very little as to what that entailed. I, though, am very skilled at graciously declining offers. "Oh, I am sincerely flattered, sir, that you would give me such an honor, but I, as your humbled guest this day, could not think of taking such liberties from you or someone else here, far worthier than I."

The man grinned, as though he were hoping I would be as kind. "Okay, then, I'll go ahead…"

I followed Wren's example. A very humble ritual of giving thanks – ah, that did clarify things – for blessings the family has had, recognition of what they were thankful for, and showing gratitude for the meal before them and the time together. I found it very quaint and endearing.

And then, as soon as it was done, dinner began.

Eating with the Neilson's was not an easy affair. Food was being passed back and forth, cut, scooped, and even, with a dinner roll between Isaac and Berty, tossed. Julie easily plucked it from the air and reprimanded her sons for such behavior.

The turkey may not have been purple, but it was very delicious. I gave my compliments to Sally, and the older woman blushed furiously and laughed.

But the meal had barely begun when there was knock at the door. Sally began to get up, but Frank ordered her to sit, saying he would answer it. It took the older man a minute to stand up and he hurried out of the room. I raised an eyebrow at this… something was not quite right…

Frank must have taken a bit too long, for the bell rang. It rang once, then three more times in a quick succession. Everyone at the table instantly looked up and around at each other, recognizing the action of ringing the bell repeatedly.

Most everyone seemed pleased – except Wren. She dropped her fork and looked like she was ready to cry… under the table, she squeezed my hand, frantically.

Nearly in unison, most people at the table laughed and looked around excitedly, saying "Orla!"

A squeal erupted in the other room – I presumed in an excited greeting between father and daughter. Frank came in, smiling happily, "Look who's here!"

Sally, after suffering a withering glare from Wren, stood as Orla entered the room. Did all Neilson's have to make an entrance? Gideon had made a bit of one, earlier… but, I could honestly say that I have never seen Wren make such a scene. Orla, an entirely too slender woman with extremely long flaxen hair that curled and shone in an almost Fae-like manner, strode into the room with her arms open wide. She wore clothing that even I could recognize as being what Wren often called, 'trendy'. She smiled around the table at her family, showing a very toothy grin of very white teeth.

I confess that she was very lovely… yet, her beauty seemed to be highly false. My eyes are as keen as my ears, and with them I could easily see the specific lines of makeup this woman applied to her face, most likely on a daily basis. False lashes and smoky eyes, perfectly plucked eyebrows, manicured nails, outlined lips in just the right shade and the obvious application of blush…

It was all I could do not to roll my eyes. She, similarly to Fae women, hid who she truly was. I have a great distaste for that practice. Perhaps that is why I adore Wren so – she hides neither her face nor her personality. True, she wears makeup, but never enough to force me to question how her appearance would be without it. Wren is true. I did not want to judge Orla as a Fae woman… but I instantly found myself doing so.

"Aw," she began, "I missed you guys! Look at us! Momma!" Sally embraced her daughter tightly, then quickly ran to retrieve another plate from the kitchen.

Ruth stood and gave her sister-in-law a hug, "Orla, I thought you weren't coming. What changed?"

She waved a hand, dismissively, "Oh, let's not talk about that. It's no fun. I heard you were all coming together, and," she placed a hand on her chest, "I couldn't miss out on an opportunity to see my family, all together at last!"

Wren snorted softly, and murmured, "Ninny… Persephone isn't here…"

Orla once again was looking around the table at the faces. She hugged the twins and then Gideon and Ezekiel. She waved at Wren and Lachlan who were sitting on the other side of the table, and she couldn't quite reach easily enough… then she spotted Nokomis.

"Oh, who's this? Lachlan? Is there something you wanted to tell me?"

Lachlan stood and introduced Nokomis to Orla while the blonde scooted her way around the table to meet them. I was pleased to see that Nokomis was not very comfortable with Orla, especially when Orla squealed and grabbed the dark-haired woman in a tight hug. Lachlan stepped in and pried his sister off…

Then her gaze fell on me. Her eyes grew large and her mouth made a little 'o' shape. "And who is this?"

Wren stood and I stood behind her. I was not fond of the look Orla was giving me. "Orla," Wren said, dryly, "This is my boyfriend, Jareth Kendricks. Jareth, this is Orla."

"A pleasure to meet you, Orla," I said.

She slowly smiled, still looking awed. "The pleasure's mine," she said.

Inwardly, I frowned. Then I smiled and linked my arm through Wren's, making a bit of a show of pulling her close to me, "Wren has told me so very much about her family, I feel like I know you already."

My movement did not go unnoticed. She smiled, "Oh, now you don't believe a word of it! Ha!"

Sally came in then with a piece of flatware, a set of silverware, and a glass for the new arrival. "Let's see," she said, looking at the rather crowded table, "Hmm… Julie, dear, could you scoot down a bit? We'll make room over here…"

I wondered if Orla would lobby to get a seat over between Isaac and myself, but was very pleased when she did not complain to be seated beside Julie. Unfortunately, that placed her directly across from me… and for that I was not too pleased. Perhaps that was why Orla had no complaints – she had a fair reason to ogle me.

Dinner resumed without much distress. The air in the room was definitely filled with more excitement after Orla had arrived. I only had one problem with the woman. Dinner had been going strong for a good while, everyone was happy and pleased and the children had finished and were all playing in the other room.

That was when, in a rather ridiculously breathy voice, Orla asked, "Would you like some more cranberries, Mr. Kendricks?"

Truly, was that supposed to be attractive? Enticing? For what is was worth, it most definitely was not. It made her sounds all around foolish.

And I did not care much for cranberries.

"No, thank you, Orla," I said as I turned back to Wren, for we had been discussing how it was that twins ran on her father's side, and why it was that Gideon did not have twins and Ezekiel did.

The rosy smile on Wren's face did not go beyond my notice.

After dinner had concluded, Nokomis explained that she had to go, for while she had desperately wanted to join Lachlan for dinner, she'd still promised to have dessert with her own family.

I was rather disappointed to see her leave so soon – I was then the only one present who was not 'family'.

Not that Frank seemed to notice. The man had taken to calling me 'Jerry' and was as friendly to me as he was to his own sons.

"Five minutes to kick-off!" he announced with uncontrolled glee, not long after Nokomis had departed. Ruth made fist motions in the air, in excitement – she being about the only woman remaining who did. The men, and Ruth, made their way to the living room with slices of pie and ice cream and a few other pieces of dessert that had been dished out.

Sally rolled her eyes, "I will be out on the back porch with the grand kids with some music, to compensate for the noise of the game inside – it is so lovely today… and anyone is more than welcome to join me."

Julie raised her hand, "I'm with you, Sally," she said. "Besides, I want to keep an eye on Lelya. She's still too little to rough house with the twins, but that doesn't stop her from trying…"

Wren smiled, "I promised Berty a game of chess today… I'll get my set and join you all on the back porch."

Orla seemed rather non-committal.

Frank came dashing into the room, then, motioning to me, "Hey, Jerry, you coming? Game starts any minute!"

I watched from the corner of my eye as Wren walked out the back door… I turned to Jerry, "As much as I appreciate the offer, Frank, I am afraid that I have to agree with your wife – this day is too beautiful to miss. I shall be joining Wren and the others in the back."

He looked vaguely stunned, "Really? You sure?"

I nodded, "Very. Again, though, I thank you for the offer to join you. It is very much appreciated."

Frank nodded, then pointed a finger at me as retrieved another slice of pie and began to move to the back door. "I'll get you on baseball season, then…"

Out on the back porch, Sally was setting up a music machine and Wren was setting up the pieces of chess on the board on the grass. There was a table and some chairs, and I found that Orla and Julie were seated around it in chairs. The children, except for Berty, who was beside Wren on the grass, were running and playing various games.

Sally pressed some more buttons on the machine, and soon a song was playing out at a reasonable volume level. She smiled, "Oh, I love this song! Frank and I used to dance to this…"

I raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the size of the porch. It seemed large enough. I had an idea…

Orla and Julie eyed me as I approached Sally. "Mrs. Neilson?" I asked, offering her a hand.

She looked up at me surprised. "Oh, please, Jareth, don't make me feel so old – call me Sally…" she looked down at my hand, confused.

I smiled at her, "Would Frank mind terribly if I stole you for a dance?"

The older woman blushed terribly and giggled, "Well, I, well… why not?" she took my hand and I lightly danced with her around the porch, to the music. Wren, I saw, was watching us idly, a curious smile on her face while she played chess with Berty.

When I carefully spun Sally outward, she released my hand, covering her face in a fit of giggles, coming over to slap my arm, "Oh, my," she said, "You are going to make Frank jealous!" I smiled at her.

Wren was still playing with Berty, but I had quite the mind to ask her to dance… that is, until I felt something small once again attach itself to my leg.

I looked down, spotting Leyla, this time smiling up at me.

"Hello again," I said, dropping down to one knee to speak to the tiny thing better. She was very pretty, indeed. Her hair was a little disheveled from playing with her brothers and cousins. A leaf was stuck just above her ear. I reached out and plucked it from her hair, smoothing out a few strands as I did so. Leyla giggled.

"What is your name, again?" I asked, though I knew it well enough.

"Lala," she said in a small, shy voice.

"Oh, I see," I straightened out a few more strands of her hair, "That is a very pretty name. Are you having a good time, little one?"

She looked down at her small shoes and put her hands in the pockets of her pants. She said something to me, but her voice was so soft and so small that even my ears struggled to make it out. "Would you like to play a game?" I asked her.

She shook her head, her hair bouncing around her head, "No," she said.

"What would you like to do, then?"

The small girl looked up at me through her bangs, a bright smile on her small face. Looking very shy, she reached her hands out to me… Oh! I smiled, "Would you like to dance, little Leyla?"

She nodded. Music was still playing, so I held out two fingers to her. She took them, excitedly. I spun her around, much as I had Sally, a few times, making her giggle and squeal, but after a moment or two the tiny girl held her hands out to me and said, "Up!"

I knew I was under tight scrutiny from all the women, but the moment I lifted Leyla into my arms and began to bounce her around and dip her, and so many giggles filled the air, Julie and Sally both seemed to be smiling and pleased. Orla looked confused. Wren was looking at me, biting her lip as she does when she watches some film that she adores.

I spent nearly three songs with Leyla. I did not mind. She was a very charming child, and very sweet. Wren was now merely watching me, her game with Berty long finished.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Orla, batting her eyes at me. "May I cut in?" she asked in that breathy tone again.

I smiled and looked at Leyla. "Ah, well, I suppose such fun cannot last forever. Yes, Orla, you may," I gave the tiny girl a small kiss on the cheek and then handed her over to her aunt, who looked very shocked, indeed. "There we are…"

I left the giggling little girl with Orla and approached Wren, who I do not think I have seen look at me so pleased before. "Wren, may I have this dance?"

She took my hand, and I lifted her off the ground and spun her around before pulling her very close to me. She smiled and rested her face against my chest. "You have to be so stinkin' charming, don't you?" she said, teasingly.

I grinned, "Well, naturally. What would I be if not charming?"

"Then you'd just stink!" shouted Melody as she ran past.

I gave Wren a look. "You planned that. Do not deny it."

Wren snickered, "No, I didn't… Just a happy bonus from being near my family… Jareth?"

I kissed the top of her head, "Yes?"

"Thank you… I can't tell you how wonderful today has been. You and my family, all together… It was so great."

I pressed my nose into her hair, "Do not say that as though I have not enjoyed my time with them, Wren. It has been quite a day… I should probably be leaving, soon…"

She nodded, "Yeah, I guess… but I get one more song with you…"

I held her a little tighter, "Of course, my dearling."

Well, that basically concluded the day. Wren wished that I make my notes on the matter, and I have. In conclusion, I must say that I did thoroughly enjoy time meeting Wren's family at last, and was more than pleased to have been invited and included in another aspect of her life.

And, also, I believe I shall have to teach my kitchen staff about pie… and also scold Wren for not exposing it to me sooner.

Wren shall be returning soon, I suppose, when she is not busy… whenever that is… but, truthfully, it may be longer than you think. I fully intend to let her know that her time is far better spent with me than it is online and whatnot. I know she would prefer if I asked all of you who have nothing better to do than to read this dribble to review it, but... no, I do not think I will.

But… as the Neilson's say, I do hope you all have had a nice holiday.

Sincerely,

Jareth the Magnificent.