It was with a momentary gasp of silence as Sarah materialized in her parents' living room, trying to get her bearings Aboveground. "Huh. That wasn't nearly as bad as I expected," she mused to herself.

Then the screaming began.

Sarah winced.

Her father was on his feet, holding Karen as she screamed bloody murder. Though it was at an ear-piercing decibel, unnecessary, and really not helping, Sarah supposed she wouldn't have reacted much differently.

Then again, the first time the Goblin King appeared before her, she had been too shocked to scream. The subsequent times after in her dreams… well. Yes, eventually there was screaming...just not the bad kind.

"Where's Toby?" Sarah shouted over her stepmother, glancing up the familiar staircase towards the bedrooms.

Karen stopped screaming and stared at her. Her blue eyes were wide, her permed blonde hair in disarray from where she'd been clutching at it. Great, Sarah thought. I've broken my stepmother.

Sarah turned her gaze on her father. "Dad? Where is T -"

"I'm right here," the nearly-nine-year-old said, bounding his way down the stairs. "And what's all the yelling about? And - whoa," he said. "Sarah!"

She supposed it was a bit of a shock for them to see her in her current appearance; her Underground nightgown and circlet was not exactly appropriate for winter in Connecticut.

"Hey Tobes," she said, grinning weakly. If there was anyone who would appreciate what was happening, it would be him.

He began to run to her - but squawked when his mother caught him by the scruff of his pajama top and yanked him to her side. "I've heard of this before," Karen whispered, still staring at Sarah. "Group hallucinations. They happen all the time."

Aaand Karen was back.

"I'm not a hallucination," Sarah said with a sigh.

"Then you're some kind of ghost," Karen said, pulling on Robert's arm. "Oh my God, Bobby - this means that Sarah's dead!"

"Are you a ghost, Sarah?" Toby asked, eyes wide.

"Boo," Sarah said dryly. Her half-brother dissolved into giggles.

Robert kept opening and closing his mouth, clearly unsure which of the myriad questions to ask first. He passed his hand over his bearded chin, raked his hands through his silvering brown hair. His wife, however, was mumbling about funeral arrangements.

"I'm not a hallucination," Sarah said loudly. "I'm not a ghost, a spirit or whatever else you can think of. I'm me. It's Sarah. And I know what just happened is a shock, but —"

"A shock? Robert finally asked, incredulous. "A shock is not what is happening here, Sarah. How the hell did you just - poof - into our living room?!"

Toby finally pulled himself free from Karen's grasp, launched himself at Sarah, and latched around her waist. She ruffled his hair affectionately, tears of joy and relief stinging her eyes. Keep it together, Sarah, she told herself. Don't scare them. They're clearly fine - Marcas hasn't gotten to them.

...yet.

"I will explain everything, but right now, we gotta get you guys out of here."

"We're not going anywhere," Karen declared.

Nearly simultaneously, her father said sternly, "Not until you explain what's going on, Sarah! You're supposed to be in England, for Pete's sake."

"Dad. I was never in England," she said with an arched brow. Cool and nonchalant. Get them out of here.

"I knew it!" Toby yelled triumphantly.

"Then where were you for the last year? How are you here? How did you just appear here?!" Karen asked frantically. She was working herself up again.

Sarah decided to tell them the truth - which was, really, the only obvious explanation. "Magic," she said simply. "A lot has happened, and I swear I will explain, but you're all in danger, and you need to come with us."

"Is he coming?" Toby asked, grinning with… not a lot of front teeth.

"He is!" Sarah said, heart aching a little at all the memories she'd obviously missed. "And he's going to take you and Dad to the castle beyond the Goblin City, with me."

"Is who coming?" Karen screeched.

Toby ignored her. "Like the book?" he asked, blue eyes wide with excitement.

"Just like the book," she replied, hugging him tighter.

"Sarah Williams!" her father bellowed; Sarah jumped and Toby put his hands over his ears. Even Karen was momentarily silenced, staring at her husband as though the world had reversed itself. Robert Williams never raised his voice.

"Dad - I'll explain in a min- hold on," she said cutting herself off with a shiver; she could feel Jareth's magic tingle across her skin even before he'd arrived. "Don't freak out," she ordered.

Jareth materialized near their coffee table.

Her warning did nothing to stop Karen from screaming anew. "Oh my God! Intruder! Did you get kidnapped, Sarah? You just escaped him, didn't you? Oh my God - and now he's followed you here to take you away again! Get out of our house, you kidnapper!"

Ah, so she didn't recognize him, Sarah thought. She'd wondered if her parents would put two-and-two together when they saw him. When Jareth had come to collect Sarah before in the disguise of James Scian, cultured and posh with trimmed hair, he'd given off the appearance of a dapper English minor lord. Now, he looked very different.

Jareth's eyes snapped up to Karen's as he adjusted his black gloves and shook out his cloak. Unlike Sarah, he had taken time to clothe himself properly in moderately formal Court attire: black leather trousers, ceremonial boots with scarlet phoenixes tooled in stylized flames, a doublet in darkest maroon and silver trim - collar raised to full fan - and of course, the ever-present silver pendant. He'd even affixed a riding crop to his belt in a sheath, the silver tipped handle glistening in the artificial light. With his wild hair and slashing eyebrows, he looked every inch the chaotic Fae King.

"Do stop," he commanded quietly; his mismatched eyes met Karen's with enough condescending authority that the human woman snapped her mouth shut. Jareth harbored very little cordiality for Sarah's step-mother - part of the reason, Sarah suspected, why he'd done his best to look as imposing as possible without being outright threatening.

Well, except for that riding crop. Sarah forced herself to tear her eyes away from it before he noticed her fascination; she swallowed hard.

"Be nice," Sarah began to say, but gave up when he threw his glare on her. "Be nicer," she amended. "They have no idea what's going on or who you are, after all."

Jareth kneeled down, eye level to Toby and watched him warily for a moment, an expression which was mirrored on Toby's face.

"Do you remember me when you see me now, Tobias?" he asked. The young boy nodded, squeezing closer into Sarah's side.

"He won't take you away again without me, Tobes. Trust me. I won't let him," she said. She relished in the strength of his small arms locked around her; she'd missed her young brother so much, and couldn't wait to tell him everything she couldn't before.

The Goblin King stood, an eyebrow arched at her. His eyes flicked down meaningfully at the crop in his belt.

Damn. He had noticed.

He permitted himself a faint smirk before he began barking commands at her parents as if to prove that, contrary to Sarah's implication, he was absolutely in control. She shook her head, trying not to roll her eyes. This was the Goblin King at his most dramatic.

"We must leave immediately," he said, walking to Robert. "Your hand, sir."

Instead of taking the proffered gloved hand, Robert looked like he was about to throttle him.

"Magic!? I thought we were over this, Sarah!" Karen had finally registered what Sarah had said. Her voice rose three octaves over the course of her exclamation

She shrugged again; nothing more needed to be said. What other explanation was there for how she and her (boyfriend? Mate? Lover? Co-regent-to-be with benefits?) had just materialized in the living room. Karen would quickly find out that there was much, much more to gawp at.

"Karen, before we leave, I want you to know that I forgive you for all of the misunderstandings of my childhood and - and the weirdness, the therapy, the restrictions. I don't know that I would have done any differently if I were in your position," Sarah said quietly. "You're about to understand what made them all happen."

"Forgive me - for what?! Sarah - you have to expl—"

"— later," the dark-haired woman said, holding up her hand and cutting Karen off.

"Sarah," Jareth reminded her. He was still waiting for Robert to take his hand - and it appeared that his patience was wearing thin.

"Dad - take his hand. Trust me. Please?" she asked pleadingly.

Robert gave her a long, hard look; he shook his head and reluctantly placed his large palm in Jareth's long-fingered grasp. "I ought to call the cops," he muttered.

Jareth reached his other hand to Toby. "Tobias, I will need your hand, as well, please." Sarah's eyebrows shot up at the "please" and she almost laughed.

Toby now wrapped his little hand around Jareth's without hesitation. Jareth turned his attention back to Sarah. "Are you positive you can move her?" he asked one last time. "If you get lost —"

" — I know," she said quietly. "Specific time and place."

He nodded. "And prepare for your magic to be utterly depleted - it will be uncomfortable and disorientating, but I will be waiting. Crossing someone over with you, Sarah - if anything were to happen - "

"Just get my father and Toby out of here," she interrupted. "We're right behind you."

Jareth nodded curtly - and was gone.

"Oh my god," Karen whispered, covering her mouth.

"You have no idea," Sarah said dryly. She took Karen's other hand. "Close your eyes, Mom," she said, and then they too were gone.

Jareth was pacing; Robert was seething, and Toby was running around the book and display cases of the library study like he was on a massive sugar high, exclaiming loudly whenever a new artifact caught his eye.

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. Damn little humans and their initial Magic High. Clearly he's lost his immunity in the past nine years.

"Who the hell are you and what have you done with my daughter?" Robert demanded. "Toby, get down here now!"

"Mr. Williams," Jareth began, turning to meet his eyes. "Any second now, your daughter will transport herself into this room. When she does, I expect that she will be in such a state that she may not be able to stand. I will need to help her. Before you begin your - admittedly justified - questions, will you please allow me to assist her first? I will answer as many questions as possible, as will Sarah. But this is simply not the time. Please have a seat."

His statement was not a request; it offered no room for argument.

Robert swallowed and lowered himself into one of the large leather chairs Jareth had indicated with his swift gesture. The mortal man finally began to look around, taking in the sights that his son was still careening around.

"She should be here by now," Jareth hissed to himself, still pacing.

A minute later, Sarah came stumbling through the door to the study, completely out of breath, Karen half-supporting her. Masking his relief, Jareth lifted an eyebrow in question.

"Landed in the observatory," Sarah said between heaving breaths. "Not specific enough. Couldn't transport again. Had to walk, magic too drained to send a message - got here as quickly as I could—" The adrenaline that had kept her from passing out while she'd run through the castle to the study had finally left Sarah's body.

She slumped in Karen's arms.

Jareth was at her side in a moment, lifting her before Karen's knees had begun to buckle. He carried her to his desk, swiping everything on it carelessly to the floor before laying her down. He leaned down, brushing his lips over hers, whispering in Sarah's ear quietly enough that the other three mortals would be unable to hear.

"Ew," Toby said, nose crinkled. "Kissing stuff."

He heard Karen begin to march across the room, probably furious at what appeared to be a magical king taking advantage of her unconscious daughter. Before Jareth could disabuse her of that notion, her husband grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him on the seat. "Let him do what he needs to do," he whispered.

Satisfied that he didn't have to brace himself for a flurry of slaps about the head, he placed one hand on Sarah's forehead and the other over her heart. He shared his soul through his fingertips as he had first done so long ago, infusing it with warmth that would light up and soothe her rug-burned magical pathways.

Healing superficial wounds up to an extent - bruises, scratches, even a broken bone if it was a clean break - were simple for him. Larger, more intricate damages - like the horrible cut to Sarah's arm, or a burned body of a Fae soldier struck down in the middle of the battlefield - were harder to do. Healers were trained to be gentle and efficient as well as concise: their patients' nerves healed the best, their recovery times the shortest, their pain the least. Jareth could do it, but as Cailleach observed, he lacked the instinctive finesse that drew Healers to their calling. He could create the illusion of it, but not the real touch.

When it came to healing magical pathways, however - well, he'd only ever done that with Sarah. It was an intimacy saved only for the Healers, with their oaths of nobility, and for extremely dire circumstances… except between lovers. As Sarah had quickly discovered when she'd first pushed out her magic to him a year ago, mingling magics was more than a synonymously impartial spell or enchantment: it was to touch souls, to entwine the essences and share each other's primary strength to fill wounds and arouse strength...and other base desires.

To heal Soul-to-Soul was to call forth the recipient to Awaken, and awaken they did.

He remembered that first night, how she'd reacted to him healing her like this. Lorcan's dagger had pierced her in her dream, injecting her with a toxic magic so strong that it had bled through to her reality. It had been with reluctance that he had inflicted this intimate method healing upon her; however, no other alternative was viable Aboveground. Sarah had been healed, but the reactive backlash had also sparked her exploding for him with his head gripped between her sweet, succulent thighs. The greedy creature had begged for more, but Jareth had been able to clutch the tattered remains of his self-control after he'd given her compensation for the initial discomfort. He'd refused her entreaties then out of respect for her inability to consent to more.

Now, in contrast, Sarah was merely magically exhausted. However, Jareth refused to permit any vulnerability to encroach upon Sarah that he was capable of restoring immediately. He bent over her now, touching his lips to hers to send a stream of his magic in a highly-concentrated blast throughout her system.

As her soul recognized him and sent out a faint magical bloom in response, warmth tingled over his skin. He pushed out more, bathing her in his power like the radiance of the sun on a hot day. Her magical pathways opened like lilies in the sun, drinking in the gift of his magic.

And then Sarah's magic woke from dormancy. Jareth. She seized onto him with her magic, a hot wind that swept over every inch of his body. So good, Jareth.

He stiffened...everywhere.

Conscious of her parents and young brother behind him, he gritted his teeth to force down the reaction. Your family is with us. Prepare yourself.

Prepare myself for what - ooooh….

Sarah's body stiffened and arched on the desk, her cheeks flushed apple-red. Her fingertips scrabbled on the desk as she writhed. He spared a quick glance over his shoulder, but the Williams were blocked from view the moment.

He quickly muffled her mouth with his palm anyway, just in case: Sarah Williams was a screamer.

Sarah, you have to control it. Tamp it down. I promise that I will give you cause to scream and wail yourself hoarse as soon as we are alone. But for now, you must tamp - it - down.

He felt the surge of horror at his reminder. Abruptly, he felt Sarah yank the golden tendrils radiating off her - climbing towards him - back down. He even saw the imagery she used to partition the wispy light - saw magical-Sarah running around with butterfly nets, shoving each one into a jars and burying it beneath the ground with a stomp of her foot.

Amused, Jareth withdrew from her mind. His Sarah had everything under control and would be along shortly. As he looked down at her pink face, her eyes still shut, he couldn't help the smirk and thrill of anticipation that zinged through his limbs. Unlike the first time he had done this, there would be no chivalry holding him back when she unscrewed those beautiful golden jars and released her magic out for him. He could barely wait to be drenched in her pleasure and buried so deep inside her that her spine arched and she pulsed in creamy ripples around him.

For now, however, there was the matter of her family.

A few minutes later, Sarah gulped in a breath and opened her eyes, arms reaching out to wrap around his neck. He carefully sat her up after a moment. "Slowly," he whispered to her before helping her to swing her legs around and sit up on the desk.

"You - owe - me," she said, her jaw clenched tight and her eyes bright. "You owe me so big for this."

"You'll get what's coming to you, Sarah-mine," he murmured. "Now be my good girl and do what must be done."

He stepped back from her, revealing her to her anxious family. She looked at them and sighed, relief and dismay warring on her face. Jareth didn't envy her: he predicted that it would be a very long night for her before she was able to receive her comfort in his bed.

She slid off the desk and wavered; Jareth took her hand without prompting. "Slowly, precious thing," he warned again, tucking her into his side, to keep her steady.

"Mom, Dad, Toby. Sorry for that." She took a deep breath. "I should start from the beginning…"

Suddenly, Aine and Earnon burst into the room. "Aine just told me the news - she just got back. She's been riding all night. Is everyone all right? All safe and accounted for?" Earnon asked.

Aine, dusty and whey-faced with weariness, squeaked and darted behind Earnon. Clearly, she hadn't been expecting to see everyone congregated together.

Toby leaned around his father and gave Aine a cheeky grin. Jareth shook his head, amused: the little rascal had grown up quickly if he was now at the age where he now thought girls were pretty.

Sarah was already handling damage-control. "Aine, could you please make sure my parents' quarters has everything it needs? A few extra blankets, perhaps? It's getting a little chilly at night. Could you also please ask Bromwell to take Toby out to the Labyrinth and hand him off to Ludo until he finally comes down from his magic high? He and the gang can handle him."

Aine bowed her head. "Yes, Your Gr—"

" - nope," Sarah said, cutting her off. Jareth saw Karen's eyes narrow in hawk-eyed interest. "Tonight I am just Sarah, and he is just Jareth."

Jareth looked at her, raising his eyebrows. I most certainly am not.

Sarah didn't even acknowledge him. "My parents are here and they're already freaked out. I haven't even explained to them what's happening yet. That's an added layer of crazy that we don't need right now."

Aine nodded her head, instantly understanding. Clever girl. "Extra blankets - anything else?"

"They'll need some clothes? I'm not sure where—"

" - I'll handle it," Aine said. Yes, Cailleach's niece had turned out to be a perfect companion: not only intelligent and adaptable, but loyal, understanding, and fiercely protective of Sarah. She was far afield from the timid handmaiden Sarah had met in the beginning. Aine turned to leave and Sarah's eyes fixed on Earnon.

"My - …. Sarah?" he corrected quickly.

"Brandy, please. Lots and lots of brandy," she said, sighing. Jareth's mouth twitched. "And please let Bromwell know we're ready to see him." Earnon nodded and then, too, left the room.

As if there were a line of people waiting outside waiting to single-file enter in, Cailleach entered the study, towering over everyone but Jareth. Her wild, long, black curly hair had been hastily bound in a braid, though her perfectly-assembled clothing suggested that her departure from her workroom had been orderly if quick. Bottles of potions clinked and jingled around her laden belt, along with a spoon, a vial of what looked like glitter, several sheathed knives, and trailing strands of several live plants. They traveled in their dirt trays, affixed to the belt in cubby-like pouches.

Her shoulders relaxed as she took inventory of everyone in the room. "Good; you made it back in one piece. No one too much worse for wear?"

"What is that?!" Toby asked excitedly.

"She," Sarah told him, "is Healer Cailleach - that's all you need to know for now. And I suggest you call her that or she'll turn you into a toad."

"I'll do no such thing," Cailleach replied. "Miscreants get turned into pukwudgies."

"Cool," Toby said with a grin.

Bromwell entered behind her and Sarah turned her attention to her parents. "Bromwell is going to take Toby to my friends, Ludo, Hoggle, and Sir Diddymus, who will watch over him. He's gonna be fine - we're just taking every precaution. Besides, we need to talk and it's a talk we probably shouldn't have in front of him." Neither of them responded, mutely watching her.

...until Toby noticed Bromwell's sword. He pointed. "Can I hold with it?"

"No!" came four voices, united in one small moment of mutual agreement.

Bromwell shrugged in commiseration. "Some other time, perhaps. Come along, little one," he said sympathetically, holding his hand out for Toby. "We have prepared your rooms in your parents' quarters, if you would like to see them before we go outside," he suggested.

"Does it have a sword in it?" Toby responded excitedly. "Or a dagger? Even a morningstar?"

"I don't believe so, no..." Bromwell said in response as he escorted Toby out.

Cailleach turned to follow him, then stopped. She frowned at Sarah. Her eyes narrowed, her left eyebrow rose and fell a few times, then she rolled her eyes. "You'll want to get that attended to quickly," she said simply. "An...effect… like that only grows over time." She pointed at Jareth. "Shame on you. I know you overdid it on purpose."

Jareth scowled. "I most certainly did not!"

"Then you're clumsier than I thought. Good night, all."

As the sound of Toby's voice decreased in volume, Sarah finally turned her attention back to her parents who were staring at her, slack-jawed.

Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, "Are they well?"

"Not really," she answered with a shake of her head. She let go of Jareth's hand, taking a seat across from them; Jareth sat on its arm beside her. Tonight, it seemed she would lead this conversation. "How long is this headache going to last?" she muttered under her breath. "I thought you said it would pass quickly."

"I said that I thought it would pass quickly. I'm not sure. Not with you, especially. Are you still in pain?"

"It's more nausea than pain, really."

"I can —"

"No, your magic is depleted enough," she murmured. "Especially after…"

"I don't mind," he said watching her carefully. "It is far simpler than what I did before."

"I know, but we need at least one of us functional, and that won't be me for a bit." He nodded in agreement, but took her hand anyway, placing a kiss to her palm. He massaged the pulse point inside her wrist with his glove-encased thumb to help with the nausea non-magically.

"Now," Sarah said leaning forward, finally focusing her attention on her father and step-mother. "Let's start with 'hello.' Hello, I've missed you both," she began.

"Sarah, what the fu—" Robert was cut off by Sarah raising her hand.

"No. We start with hello. And I've missed you both. Because I have, and I do. It's only going to get weirder from here on out."

Earnon entered with four brandy snifters and two bottles of brandy. He poured while Sarah continued.

"This is the Underground. Yes, it's real. Yes, like Celtic mythology. Yes, there are Fae - Jareth, Aine, and Earnon," she motioned with her head to the person pouring their drinks - " are Fae. They're beautiful and wonderful except when they're the worst. We'll get to that part in a bit. There are also goblins and all manner of other creatures roaming around - some you'll meet very, very soon," she said.

"But what - "

"Still talking. That big ol' hedge out there," she said, pointing over her shoulder to the window, "That's the Labyrinth. I will show it to you someday, but I have no idea where Sahed is and I don't really have time to make introductions."

"Who's Sahed?" Karen asked, confused.

"The Minotaur," Sarah and Jareth answered in unison. Karen and Robert's mouths dropped open. "No, no," Sarah said, trying to assure them everything was ok. "He's really, really nice. We just have to make sure he knows you're guests and not something to eat. Jareth, if you'd please be so kind?" she asked as Jareth reached forward to take two of the snifters, handing one to Sarah.

"Please," he said motioning to Karen and Robert. Robert tentatively reached for his; Karen gulped hers down in one sip and poured herself another; Sarah jerked a little in surprise as Jareth's mouth twitched.

His eyes flicked up to Earnon. "Another bottle, I think. After that, you may attend to ...your mate. I'll summon you after if we have need," he said, sitting back and crossing his ankle over his leg. Satisfied that most, if not all of Sarah's nausea had passed, he laced his fingers with hers unconsciously.

"There's a bit of a situation," Sarah began slowly. "Someone is trying to kill me - well, both of us, really - and tonight, he also threatened you and Tobes, and we had to get you all safe."

"Who the hell is trying to kill you?" Robert asked.

"Jareth's brother, Marcas," Sarah growled.

"You really should have killed him when you had the opportunity," Jareth murmured, turning her hand over, thumb stroking the inside of her wrist.

"You know it was less of an 'opportunity' and more of an attempted prison break, right?" she said dryly before Karen cut in.

"Killed… his… brother?" Karen asked, confused. "Prison break?"

"Yes," Jareth answered. "He deserves much more than death, but I'll settle for his head," he added darkly.

"You are not helping," Sarah admonished. He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Who is he?" Robert finally asked, pointing to Jareth. "Why does his brother want to kill you? What does he - Jared what's his name - have to do with any of this? Why has he dragged you - us - into this?"

"He," Jareth drawled lazily, "is His Royal Majesty King Jareth, son of Althair, of the Goblin Kingdom." Sarah groaned, but he continued. "There are many other titles. For example: High King of the Fae, Master of the Underground, Lord of the Sidhe, Dancer of the Seelie, et cetera and so forth - but, for now, Your Majesty will suffice."

"Ok, maybe stop taking," Sarah suggested. Returning to her parents, she agreed, "He is all of those things and more. But you can call him Jareth." He glared daggers into the top of her over-familiar head. She glanced over at him, practically daring him to argue; he took another sip from his glass and said nothing.

"And he's a king?" Robert asked.

"Yes," Sarah answered with a roll of her eyes. Good girl: she'd learned to answer only the questions she was asked.

Karen's eyes shot back up to him. "Well, what are you to him?" She was starting to catch up. A look of recognition was settling on her face.

"She is Queen Consort to —"

"Consort? You're married?!" Robert yelled. His wife jumped, sloshing brandy over her hand.

Sarah rolled her eyes at Jareth. "No, seriously. Stop talking. You're making this a million times worse," she huffed at him; Jareth shrugged. She looked at her father. "'Consort' meaning that I am… going to be queen. Of the entire Underground and Labyrinth. Soon. The how's and the why's are a bit complicated, and I'll explain later. I'm sorry, but that isn't what's important at the moment."

Sarah waited a moment until everyone had settled back into their seats. "And to answer your question: no," Sarah said, shaking her head. "Not married."

"I have been trying," Jareth interjected. "She is quite stubborn. She keeps refusing me, though I can't imagine why after everything we -"

"Now is so not the time, Jareth," she said narrowing, her eyes at him and giving his hand a squeeze in warning; he squeezed back.

"Wait! He's the one that picked you up from the house the day you went off to school! It's those eyes!" Karen said.

"Those eyes," Jareth whispered in Sarah's mind. They seem to be a distinctive feature.

Yeah - they get girls into a lot of trouble.

"I remember now," Karen was saying. The puzzle pieces were fitting together. "James Scion, right? He's the… president or dean or something! You're him!"

"We had to lie to get me away from home without alarming you. Marcas had only wanted to hurt me, not you. Until tonight."

"And Jareth brought you here?"

"Yes."

"Against your will?" Karen asked.

"No," Sarah said firmly.

"What's the thing on your head?" Robert interjected.

"A crown," Jareth murmured over the rim of his glass. "As befits a queen of this land."

"Of sorts," Sarah corrected through gritted teeth. "For me, anyway. I'll explain later. His is an actual crown."

"I am King —"

"Yes, yes, we know, Your Majesty," Sarah cut him off, sarcastically with a wave of her hand

"What's that stone? It's… glowing - I've never seen anything like it…" Karen trailed off.

"You really don't want to know right now. We can talk about it later."

"Is it some kind of mind control thing?" Robert asked suspiciously.

"Of course it isn't," Sarah scoffed. "Do you really think anything like that would even work on me?"

Then, unexpectedly: a sad sigh.

It had come from Karen. "So all of it was real," she said sadly.

"Yes," Sarah said with a small smile. "But I forgive you. I meant that when I said it."

"But all the things —"

" —it's done. Water under the bridge. We have to move forward."

Karen nodded and said no more, looking down at her hands.

"You have… magic?" Robert asked. It seemed he processed the dual reality more quickly than his wife. Sarah Williams truly was his daughter. "Like, Harry Potter magic? Did you always have it?"

"Not that I knew of and no, respectively."

"How did you get it?"

"Jareth gave it to me."

"You can give people magic? How powerful is he?"

"Very," Jareth offered without prompting or invitation. Sarah's hand-squeeze would have been painful if she'd been stronger.

"He's very powerful," Sarah answered, focusing her father's attention back on her. "Think of him like the Sauroman of this world, but in a good way."

Robert took a moment to look between the two of them, eyes lingering on their interlaced fingers. "Are you … happy? Does he treat you well? Not one word out of you, Jareth - I want to hear it from my daughter's own mouth."

"Better than well, Dad. He's…he's my world," she whispered, studiously not turning to meet Jareth's eyes. She sniffled, but his heart glowed.

"As she is mine," Jareth said, meeting Robert's direct gaze and leaning forwards from his perch on the armrest. He waited until he had the man's full attention before he spoke: he wanted no room for interpretation or ambiguity. "Fae cannot utter falsehoods, Robert Williams. Keep that in mind when I say this: there is nothing she will ever need or want for; I would happily spend the rest of my days exhausted from living up to her expectations. She asks for so little and I wish to give her so much. There is nothing I would not do to protect her - none of my subjects would dare cross me to cause her harm: my vengeance would be swift and all-consuming; I would drench the soil with their blood. I would destroy worlds for her; I would rip out my own beating heart if she only asked."

It was then that Jareth turned to face her, meeting her eyes with an honest rawness that he'd rarely let her see before. "I will swear it in blood, in front of this kingdom...if she will only have me."

Sarah drew in a stuttered breath. When he released her eyes to glance at her parents, he knew by the look on Robert's face, and the way that Karen had laid her hand on his arm, that they believed him.

Her father leaned over, gripped his head with fistfuls of greying brown hair. "Why don't you start at the beginning and tell us what's going on," he suggested quietly.

"Quite right," Jareth said with a nod.

It was dawn by the time they finished. After Jareth had told his tale, leaving out certain key details, he'd made one final promise. "If, when all this has concluded and it is safe, I will give you the choice to return Aboveground, with or without your memories of this place. It will be your choice, then, to live the life you want. All I ask is that, until I am able to make you that offer, that you not shame Sarah for doing what needed to be done to save you in the interim. She cares very deeply for her family; she knows what a personal risk this is."

"What about our families, our lives? My job?" Robert asked.

"I will send word to your contacts that you have had an emergency family situation develop and you will be in contact as able. I will even be able to create access to your internet to keep control of the situation."

"You can do that?" Karen asked.

"It's how I was able to call you," Sarah explained. "From here in the Underground."

Robert inhaled deeply. "We will be having a talk, young lady, about lying to us. I understand that you felt that you had to, but we are deeply hurt that you didn't trust us-"

"That conversation can wait until later," Jareth interrupted. "We are all weary, and you have had a terrible shock. You now know all that you need to comprehend our situation; the remaining is mere discussion, which is best done up on a good night's sleep anyway. We will reconvene in the late morning. Mr. and Mrs. Williams," he said with a curt nod. He rose from the chair, gathering the three empty brandy decanters. "Sarah, if you are not where I expect you to be within ten minutes, I will come and find you," he said simply.

Eight minutes later, Sarah was standing outside her parents' quarters, explaining the last of the details she could conceive of that her family might need for the next eight or nine hours.

"So, there will be guards outside the door at all times. Bromwell," Sarah said, gesturing at Bromwell as he delivered a soundly-sleeping Toby back into Karen's arms, "is my personal bodyguard when Jareth isn't around. You can ignore the guards for the most part, but if they come in and tell you there's an emergency, please listen to them. The guards will come for us first if something's wrong, so we'll already be on our way."

She wracked her brain for anything else that they needed to know. Her mind was exhausted, but her body thrummed with pent-up energy. Her mental defenses were weakening; the magical reaction to Jareth's magic would not be denied. "If you need something, you can let one of the guards know to get Aine. She's the redhead from earlier. She's a sweetheart and a good friend. She'll get you anything you need. We'll play it by ear later for food? I can have something brought up, or you can come down to the dining hall, whichever you'd prefer."

Karen nodded wearily. She kissed Sarah on the cheek. "I have so many more questions," she sighed.

"I know. And I'll answer them, just not tonight." Karen nodded and headed into the suite. Through the stone walls, she made out Karen's gasp: "It's beautiful! Bobby, come in and see! It's like a medieval castle! Oh, look at this bathroom!" Sarah smiled; she knew Karen would make a beeline for the sunken tub.

Her father's eyes were tired, but his shoulders were still set back. "If I need you," he began, "how do I get to you?"

"Oh, you can just ask one of the guards. They'll send Aine or Earnon to get me."

"No, Sarah," he said sternly. "Where are you sleeping? Just where does this Jareth 'expect you to be' in ten minutes?"

"Two minutes, now." Her eyes outlined the same path Jareth had taken a few minutes earlier. She inhaled deeply. Only two minutes, love.

Robert's face turned a very angry shade of mottled red around the outline of his beard as Bromwell choked on a laugh.

Oh, hell no.

"Listen to me," Sarah started before he could speak. "Let's get this straight, right off the bat. Firstly, I am twenty-five years old and an adult in both worlds. Secondly, in a little while, I am going to be Queen - which technically makes it my house, my rules. Thirdly, where I sleep is no one's business. In fact, everyone expects me to be exactly where I have wanted to be at night for damn near the last year."

Now the color had drained from his face. "Were you pressured into this?" he asked hoarsely. "By their culture? I didn't hear the word 'love' in his little declaration - only possessiveness."

Sarah motioned at Bromwell to stand down; he had bristled at the implication that he or Jareth had pressured her. She'd recalled from their old strolls that he took consent in bedpartners as seriously as he did the death of his enemies.

"No, Dad," Sarah said gently. "Jareth loves me, even if he doesn't always say it explicitly to… to people he doesn't know well. He wasn't lying - he's asked me to marry him, oh, no less than thirty times. Trust me, dad - he would literally murder someone with his own hands if he even thought - No, there's no other place I need or want to be. This was my choice, and I'm very happy with it."

She could hear her father's teeth grinding.

"Does it make you feel better to know that I do have my own adjoining rooms if I wouldn't want to be with him at night? And that I've used them in the past before we… formalized our relationship?"

"It doesn't," he growled.

Sarah's fingertips were starting to tingle; her control was loosening, and all this talk of being in Jareth's bed was waking up the wild parts of her mind. This conversation needed to end now.

"Okay, Dad. You can decide how you want to react to this, and if you feel the need to have some Victorian ideals conversation with him about your twenty-five year old daughter - who slept with her first guy six years ago years ago - you can let him have it later this morning. He's a gentleman: he won't lift a finger against you. He will listen to every word and threat without retaliation; I guarantee it."

"How can you guarantee anything? He's a damn king, Sarah!"

"And I'm his queen-to-be. Co-regents, not ruler and subject. Well, not the way I intend to rule things, anyway," she said with a grin. "Goodnight, Dad," she said leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "Bromwell. See you tomorrow!"

He waved at her; Robert was still sputtering as she began walking backwards towards Jareth's chambers. "Seriously, though, Bromwell is marvelous. I've seen him gut someone from tip to tail for trying to attack me. Guy never even got close. Aside from Jareth, there's no one else in this castle you'd be safer with," she added, giving Bromwell a wink.

His mouth quirked up in the corner, the only proververbal chink in the armor of an otherwise stiff guard. "Thank you, your Grace," he answered gravely.

Robert made a noise in the back of his throat before she watched him turn and heard the door slam behind him.

Sarah just barely made it to their room before she started laughing.

"What is so funny?" Jareth asked from the bed. She turned to see him sitting up, back against the pillows, looking over a piece of parchment.

"You are in so much trouble," she laughed, approaching his side of the bed. He put the paper down and slid out, the sheets falling from his body to reveal his nakedness.

"Me?" he drawled.

Her mouth filled.

"Sarah," he prompted. "You were about to describe my most recent crimes."

"Uh. Um. Mm. I just had to explain to my father that the Above's repressed, Victorian puritanical cries about sex aren't really a thing here."

"Did you, now?" he murmured. He gripped her by the hips to turn her, unlaced the neckline of her nightgown. The fabric slipped down sinuously over her shoulders, hanging on by the tips of her nipples. He hummed as her naked back was revealed in the gaping fabric; his fingertips traced down the indentation of her spine. "How did he take that?" he asked as he brushed her hair aside to place an open-mouthed kiss at the nape of her neck.

Sarah shivered. The magic in her burst open, tightening her skin and sending heat sparkling along her nerves. "If my father attempts regicide tomorrow, promise me you won't throw him in a dungeon," she panted.

Jareth only sighed. "I suppose one family member out for blood at a time is enough. Now, Sarah, that isn't really what you'd like to discuss, is it?"

She trembled in his arms. "No," she whispered.

"No...what?" he asked, lightly - so lightly - skimming his fingernails over her chest, down her breasts, dislodging the diaphanous fabric entirely.

"No, Sir," she answered. The words were sweet on her tongue as her vision became fogged with a golden, molten haze. Blood roared in her ears like a thundering waterfall.

"Very good. Then you are to be silent unless I bid you come for me. Are we understood?"

Yes.