Eberon walked alone down the empty streets of the former Goblin City, looking over his shoulder agitatedly, barely able to compose himself at the sight of passers-by. Around one corner and the next, he finally found his destination: a little cottage on the edge of the city, somewhat isolated, its door open and waiting for its new guest. Eberon gave a sweeping glance around himself, and upon making sure of his solitude, he swept his cape behind himself and sauntered into the cottage, gingerly closing the door in his wake.

Once inside, he was greeted by hazy darkness. A small crack in the shutters made the room somewhat discernible. The most certain element of the room was the shadow of a man. "Are you alone?" it asked.

"No one has followed me," the elf king replied, a slight quavering seeping into his voice, against his will. "I did not expect to see you at this event."

"Well, plans have changed." The shadowy man approached and his face came into sight as he passed through the beam of light. Black locks hung over his brow and feathers dangled near his face, fluttering with his raspy breath. He watched as Eberon made a very slight flinch at his words. "This troubles you, Eberon? You are not doubting my judgement?"

Eberon looked up at him resolutely, his golden circlet the most obvious indication of his presence. "No, not at all, but I am not certain what your being here can do to help the situation."

"I was not aware that there was a situation, but if you should like to call it that..." The man was silent for some moments; gracefully and calmly he turned to pull out a chair at a nearby table, where he sat down with a luxurious easiness and propped his feet on the table. He pulled out an amethyst, moon-shaped talisman from where it lay on his chest, suspended by a silver chain; he gazed into its depths as if in meditation, absorbed in its lilac beauty. As Eberon’s eyes adjusted to the lighting he could see that the talisman was not just that of a moon, but that of a moon with two slitted eyes above it, bearing the horned feathers of some bird, gilded in silver. He did not find the talisman odd, for he had seen this emblem about the neck of his cohort in many fashions ever since he had met him. It was appropriate.

Finally, the man looked up from his pondering, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "The situation has changed, Eberon. I will begin the commencement of our plan on the morrow."

Eberon lost his composure and his eyes widened with fervor. "What!? It was not to happen for at least another fortnight! I am not prepared... I was to be gone before you began it all!"

"I see, you are doubting my judgment..." The man sat up slowly, threateningly.

The elf worked his jaw about a bit as he tugged the end of his shirt taut. "No, not at all, but I confess that I don’t understand."

The man chuckled. "It is not like an elf to lose his head so. You should be more careful about that temper... It will be the death of you someday."

Eberon understood. "I am sorry, Your Majesty. I only ask for an explanation."

The feathered man seemed to be staring into a distant future, at Eberon and quite through him. "He is here. I knew he would be, but now my hopes are not without rewards. And there are other rewards. I will show you, elf king..."

With a gentle tug at the air, the feathered man sent Eberon into a trance. The elf could feel himself being pulled into the imagery of the other man’s mind. Suddenly Eberon was flying high above the city; he knew that he was seeing himself through the other’s eyes, as the form of a bird. They were flying into the castle, through the great halls of Sarah’s grand fortress. Before long they were in what appeared to be a bedchamber, flying through the taffeta curtains of a four-post bed. Perched atop one of the posts they gazed at a painting that hung on the wall. It was that of a dove and an owl, sitting side by side on the branch of an oak tree. As the moments passed, a slight throbbing light of a purple color began to emanate from the painting, and it grew stronger with each minute. Eberon was certain that this effect was due to the prompting of the sorcerer through which he was seeing. The throbbing light could mean only one thing... The last shard was hidden in the wall, behind the painting. The end of their search had come. Revenge, so sweet, would run its sharp course.

The image faded and Eberon found himself once again within the confines of the cottage. The shadowy man faced him, silent and straightfaced. "You see, now, why there is no need to wait any longer. The wait always stops somewhere, and sooner is much better than later. And Sarah’s lack of discernment in hiding the amethyst has brought about her downfall."

"That is very true. Though I suppose her idea was that of >Hiding in plain sight...’" Eberon paused a moment before continuing. "You say that the man you are looking for is here? The man that made it possible for Sarah to overcome you?"

"Yes. He is. And the time is ripe. All of the chickens have come back to the coop... and it’s time for a slaughter." A wicked smile played on his lips.

"How will you take care of Sarah?"

"That plan is already being carried through. I see no hindrance to my plan, as of yet. Though I know my foe is here, I have yet to actually find him. Once I do, there shall be no contenders."

"Sarah is no fool. I do not see that a day’s worth of wooing shall bring about her demise. Are you planning to play upon the feelings she once had for you?"

"You insult me... Nothing should be staked solely upon woman’s love, least of all the conquering of a kingdom. I have my ways. Once I am through with her, no semblance of love will break her from my grips." He walked to the window and gazed between the shutters. "Now you must go. If you are away from the ceremonies much longer, your absence will be felt. I will begin the preparations. You wait for my word. Tomorrow is the day."

"One more thing..." Eberon stepped forward. "What are your plans regarding the troops?"

"That, too, I have taken care of. I will send my minions to fetch some this evening. Trust me, we shall be primed and pitched for a war, and no one will ever suspect the elves."

"Very good. Then all is settled. I will take my leave." The man nodded his head solemnly in response to the elf’s words. As Eberon exited, he turned to wave. "Good evening, Jareth." He peered into the depths. A black raven stood where the man once was. The winged creature flew past Eberon and into the sky. The elf king shrugged his shoulders, closed the door, and hurriedly made his way back to the ceremonies.

*       *       *

Eberon entered one of the tents reserved for the royalty. The high sun had brought others there besides him; the place he had originally sought for solitude became the place he would least find it. The feline king Benedick and the dwarf queen Delina were there, engaged heavily in conversation. He sauntered to a chair nearby, but not too close, hoping that they would let him be to ponder his plans for the morrow. He couldn’t help smiling to himself. Originally Jareth’s presence had unsettled him, bringing forth an abundance of fresh fears for their enterprise. Thanks to the king’s news, he was reassured to the point of foolhardy arrogance. If the elves knew, they would depose him, even exile him. But they would never find out, and one day he would be seen as the greatest of kings. The elves would rise above the rabble, and rule all, just as the fae were meant to do. All of the meager squabbles of the humans, the stupidity of the goblins, and the foolish fickleness of the felines brought such a disgust to him that he could barely contain it. Softhearted elves such as Sage only made things worse by involving themselves with this hoi polloi; indeed, Sage had even become their advisor and put himself beneath a human queen. Then again, Sage had himself been exiled, and was not an elf worth comparing anything relating to fae with the common folk. Sage was the commoner, as far as Eberon was concerned.

"Dear Eberon," Delina said, breaking his reverie. "We were just discussing the birds. Would you like to join us in our pondering?"

Benedick nudged the small woman in the side. "You mean our ranting and raving, screaming and pulling of hair, don’t you, Your Majesty?"

"Do not be so dramatic, Benedick!" Delina replied warmly, chuckling. "What do you say, Your Majesty?" she continued, facing Eberon.

"Most definitely, dear lady. I am as eager as you to find the cause of these disturbances." Eberon rose and moved closer, his jaw tightening unnoticeably.

"I should think you are!" Benedick exclaimed. "Your kingdom has been hit worse than any of us, if I dare say so! And you were the first to bring it to the attention of the council. I don’t think any of us would have known that anything was truly wrong had it not been for your involvement."

Delina nodded her head. "Yes, it was most noble of you. I don’t think that this yearly celebration has ever seen such a turnout. It is truly admirable how strife always brings those who seem they have the least in common together. No doubt Sarah’s grand presentation will make quite an impression on the kingdoms. I am willing to bet that it only gets bigger and bigger with time."

"You bet!" Benedick replied. "Nothing like a good party, I’ve always said!"

Delina laughed heartily. "You are so predictable, my feline friend! But we are not gathered to discuss revelry."

"You are correct, dear queen," Eberon replied. "Strife does bring us together. The turnout is truly astounding. I predict only fair times for such a kingdom that has so many friends. I truly hope that we can find the cause of these disturbances and remedy them."

"What do you think, Eberon? Benedick and I were just talking about the source. No doubt this must be the work of one who possesses magic? The birds would not do such things on their own?"

Eberon crossed his hands in his lap. "Nature is quite affected by many things. The stars can control our behaviour, so why not that of the birds? The heavens themselves possess a magic all their own. Though I must confess, I do think it must be a sorcerer, or even a sorceress at work. A clever one. I think the thing to do would be to study the birds, then to keep a lookout for anyone who holds these birds in large quantities. Perhaps holds them captive in order to cast the spell, before setting them free to do their evil work. There are a number of ways that such a plan could be carried out, however. Without bounds. But it is up to us to discuss those most likely. Perhaps at the end of the celebration we could send out some of our servants to make a search about our own kingdoms, and those beyond."

"You know, that is a splendid idea! I don’t know why we did not consider that!" Delina said, looking at Eberon then at Benedick, her excitement compounding by the moment. "No doubt we will find out who is up to this! They could be hiding right under our noses!"

"Your are very correct, Madame. But we will leave no stone unturned, nonetheless."

"There’s a good chap!" Benedick exclaimed, slapping the elf across the back, who replied with a grunt and a very affected smile. "Now we can go back to the wine! Solutions are marvelous, don’t you think, Delina?"

"Splendid. You weren’t the one for work as a kitten, were you Benedick?"

"How’d you guess?"

"Call it a hunch." She slipped her arm through his and they departed the tent royally.

Eberon let out a sigh and scowled. "Good chap... Yes, you drown yourself in wine, feline. It will be all that you will have for comfort shortly." He crossed his arms and smiled, self-satisfied. "Easily fooled fools. You wouldn’t see a fairy if it bit you."

*       *       *

Toby walked down the streets of the neighborhood, his excitement growing at the thought of seeing his sister. Sarah had moved back to Woodland Hills two years ago, and, though she was frequently gone to give speeches here and there, especially in New York where her firm’s main headquarters were, she was still around much more often than she had been while pursuing an acting career four years ago. While she was in town he would visit her whenever he could; she wasn’t just his sister, she was his best friend. He knew she would understand his predicament.

Lucky for him, her house was only a few miles away. He took the back streets in order to avoid his parents; it had been an hour since his departure, and no doubt they were looking for him by now. They had probably already been to his sister’s house. Hopefully they would be gone by the time he got there. She would most likely be expecting him.

His mind drifted to the stories his sister used to tell him. The place called The Underground, the Goblin King, and all of the creatures. Sometimes they all seemed so real to him, especially when she told the stories. It was as if she had been there. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had. Sarah had always seemed magical to him; it wasn’t until recently that he had started seeing some of the odd things characteristic to the world she had oft described to him. He had seen many more things than his parents had suspected. Before Sarah had moved back to Virginia he had seen goblins of all sorts, though they usually didn’t bother him much, even seemed to find him very interesting and afraid to approach him. Once he was in the forest in the backyard, at his favorite clearing, when he saw fairies. He never told his parents; it was such a wonderful experience, but they were too old to understand. One pretty fairy had kissed him on the cheek. They didn’t talk much, but played all kinds of fairy games and had let him join in. It was a shame that his parents could only know about those things for which he got in trouble.

Out of all the creatures he had heard about in the pretend journeys of Sarah, his favorite was Rattlebeak. The little red bird that proved to be such a good friend to her and had helped to save her friends really delighted him. Toby had always loved birds, and Rattlebeak was especially interesting. He imagined that he was on some great journey, at this very moment, and that Rattlebeak was his companion, helping him to save the day as he had done in Sarah’s stories.

"We’ve gotta hurry and get to Sarah’s house, Rattlebeak!" he exclaimed, make-believing that the bird was really there. "She’s in great danger! The evil king and queen are going to try to cast a spell on her that will make her forget all about me! Then the goblins will come and get me, and I will not be able to escape, and she won’t be able to help me, because she won’t remember who I am!"

"What’s that? Sarah’s in danger! Where am I? Peaseblossom, my love, where did you go! Oh, heavens, surely I am dreaming!"

Toby stopped in his tracks and looked up in astonishment. There was Rattlebeak, just as Toby had always imagined him, and he was flying to and fro in confusion, muttering about his new state of affairs. "Rattlebeak!" Toby cried. "How did you get here? You’re real!"

The scrawny bird turned to face the young boy. "Well, ‘course I am! But I thought maybe you could tell me how I got here!? And what’s this about Sarah being in danger? Did she cast a spell to send me to you?"

"No, I think I cast the spell...by accident. And Sarah’s not in danger, I was just playing pretend." Toby smiled broadly, happy at his fortune. He would have a traveling companion! Did that mean that everything Sarah told him was not make-believe, or was Rattlebeak just a figment of his imagination? "You’re just like I imagined!" he exclaimed joyfully.

"What do you mean? Where is everyone?" Rattlebeak asked, still seemingly wary about approaching Toby, gazing at his surroundings in confusion.

"Well, Sarah told me stories about you and the others, but I thought they were just stories! I guess everyone else that you are looking for is in the Underground. If you’re not just something I created, like the cartoons."

"Well, I’ll be snarzled!" Rattlebeak exclaimed, perching atop Toby’s shoulder. "So, you’re the little one we went to save a long time ago? Jeepers! You’re Sarah’s little brother!"

"Well, I’m Sarah’s little brother, but I’ve never been to the Underground. Though I wish I had!" Toby continued his travels, a new spring in his step.

"Sarah has another little brother?"

"Nope. Just me. But, if you’re real and the stories were real... Then maybe I was the little boy she always talked about in the stories. But I would have remembered it. The little boy was five years old in the last story she told. I remember lots of things from then, and no Goblin City. I never met the Goblin King in my life. I saw goblins for the first time when I was seven. That’s crazy."

"Maybe you just don’t remember because someone kept the memories from you. With magic, anything is possible. I’m proof of that point!" Rattlebeak exclaimed, smiling at his new and strange circumstances. "This is great! But I have to get back, soon. Peaseblossom will be missing me."

"Is that your girlfriend?"

"Actually, she’s my missus. We have three little chicks at our tree. She’s going to have her hands full, all by herself. That little Rapscallion is a handful. Won’t take a worm from anyone but me. Says they talk too much. Well, he doesn’t say that, actually, I do. But I know he doesn’t like it. They start reciting poetry, and it makes him all sniffly. Not to mention that Peaseblossom’ll worry." A slight frown tugged at the corner of his beak.

"Really, I don’t know how to send you back. I don’t always have such an easy time of undoing my spells. I don’t even know how I do it in the first place. I just wish it. And I wish you could stay a little while... I’m in trouble right now." Toby pulled his backpack taut in his nervousness.

"What’s the matter?"

"Well, my parents don’t believe in my magic powers. So I’m trying to find Sarah in order to get help. They want to send me to a counselor."

"What’s a counselor?" Rattlebeak asked.

"It’s a person that you have to see when you go crazy. They think I’m crazy. And I don’t know how to make them believe me. But Sarah will know what to do."

"That’s no good! What kinda parents are they, anyway? Human grown-ups are so weird about magic. Numbers and metal magic is all they seem to appreciate." He turned to face the boy. "So you need me to help get you to the Underground, to Sarah’s castle?" Rattlebeak asked. "Because I don’t know if I can do that. I’m not really worth much without my tribe."

"Yeah, I heard about how you could only cast spells in a –" Toby took a double take. "Wait, Sarah’s not in the Underground. She lives here."

"No she doesn’t," Rattlebeak answered, his feathers ruffling in confusion. "She is the queen of Sunset City, what used to be the Goblin City. She became queen four years ago and has been there ever since. There’s a big celebration this week. I would have come, but I had the little ones to take care of. They are only two weeks old, and I got lots to teach ‘em."

"But this is where Sarah lives! I visit her just about every day, when she’s not out of town... Maybe she’s not really ever going to New York?"

"New York?"

"A city that is... well, I guess you would call this Aboveground. It’s a city far away from here. She always says she has to go there for business. Maybe she’s really going to the Underground?"

"That could be. Though I think she’s there all the time. Maybe her twin, Leah, is taking her place."

"Sarah has a twin!? No way!"

"Tell you what," Rattlebeak answered. "You keep walking to Sarah’s house, at least, what seems to be Sarah’s house, and I’ll explain it all to you. We’ll figure it out. I’ll try to help you the best I can, but I have to go back soon. Is it a deal?"

"It’s a deal! You know, you were always my favorite..."

*       *       *

Leah pushed through the crowd that was gathering for the near end of the Labyrinth competition. Hair tousled, arms crossed, gait purposeful with a hint of anger, she approached Sarah atop the stage. Sarah looked at her in confusion. Leah threw her hands out in exasperation. "So, what the Hell is going on with you anyway? I’m gone for three hours, looking at the booths and whatnot, and I return to hear from Isabelle that not only have you encouraged this new suitor of yours, Pandor, or whatever his name is, but you have also accepted a mysterious king into the kingdom. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you be this immature, Sarah! You make me think Jareth is behind your actions."

Sarah took Leah by the arm, directing her pseudo-sibling away with a furrowed brow. "Leah," she whispered, "for one, this is an improper place to bring this up. For two, I am really beginning to tire of your incessant need to approach all issues with which you bear disagreement in such a tone. And it is about time that you leave Jareth out of this. Pardon me for expressing interest in a man, I know you are not used to me acting like a human being anymore."

"One man!" Leah exclaimed in a loud whisper. "How about two? Or is there a third lurking somewhere? Did you get a kick out of seeing this Pandor guy making out with you? Into voyeurism, Sarah? Maybe the rest of the kingdom is... Were they watching too?"

"Of course not!" Sarah answered angrily. "But, of course I can’t make you understand, you never have known how to approach men."

"It so happens that I do not feel the pressing need for a relationship, as you do. I have tried a couple, and they did not work out. I am a patient woman, Sarah, unlike you. I’ve had to wait for lots of things. But you have had everything handed to you... Everything you could want has always been at your fingertips, even a kingdom for the taking. I have waited and worked. You don’t understand those words."

"Okay, that’s it!" Sarah turned to Sage who was apparently trying hard to stay out of the conversation. "Sage, if you will excuse us, we need to speak in private!" She began to drag her counterpart to the castle by the arm, but Leah quickly responded with an angry jerk away and an increase in distance between their walking bodies. Once inside the throne room, Sarah swung about and pointed her finger at the woman. "Look, Leah. I have worked for everything I have here. For four years I have toiled away to make this place great, to make up for sins that I did not commit. I may have shown one flawed action in taking this king in, I will admit to that, but Pandor is my business! I have waited four years to show interest in any man, and this is the first time I have even been slightly engrossed in a man! It is none of your business! And I certainly don’t see where you have the right to preach to me! You have no right to pass judgement on me... You are never here to see what I do! You judge me based on my past behaviors, not the ones of a queen and diplomat, not of the woman I have become!"

"Maybe I wouldn’t make those judgements if you weren’t currently acting like a teenage girl! And what makes you think you are suddenly ready for a relationship? From what I’ve heard, you’ve been pining away over Jareth since the day before Pandor showed up! I think you are putting your unhealthy infatuations back into another man!"

Sarah raised her voice to such a pitch that Leah had never heard. "I am not infatuated with Jareth!!! I am in love with him!!" With that her face grew pale, she threw her hands into the air, spun about, and dropped her face into her hands, where she sobbed quietly.

Leah stood silently, dumbstruck for some moments. Sarah looked up but did not turn around when a fiery peeked in, his orange feathers glistening with fairy glitter. "Your Majesty, there is a competitor close to reaching the city. Sage has asked you to join the festivities outside to welcome the winner."

*       *       *

Jareth turned the last corner, the last tree, the last riddle. He saw the doors of Sunset City looming before him, a prize won from what was for him a simple task. However, he felt that the true prize he would win was a veritable Pandora’s box, and that he would open the box by merely opening the doors, bringing down upon his head all of the fears that haunted him in the night. Nay, all of the fears that stood on the very edges of the Underground, lurking and menacing, waiting for a day to bring fruition to all the evil that was within it to complete.

However, evil thoughts did not cross his mind in his present state. Evil thoughts were far behind him, alien to him and without power over his soul. They had never truly been his thoughts, but this evil image is almost all Sarah had ever had of Jareth. What did Jareth truly bring for Sarah? Love, or impending doom?

He could not fail now, not when he was so close. He paused in his tracks no longer and made the final steps to his present destiny. He only hoped that it would be a pleasant one, and, moreover, one that would hold a future that held Sarah, as well. Was it too late for second chances? It was a question that had plagued his nightmares and fantasies for four years, now. There was only one way to find the answer.

If only this moment could be frozen in time. It is so perfect, but whatever comes in the next few moments can have a number of outcomes, all equally beautiful and frightening. If only I were a painted man on a Grecian urn.

*       *       *

Sarah strode out of the palace, trying with all her might to dispel the seething within. Leah had been judging her based on her adolescence for years, now, and it was about time for it to stop. But would it ever do so? As far as she knew, Leah could forever leave her in the mire of her understandably foolish ideals of her teen years. And, if she did, Sarah would have to find some way to deal with it. Four years had not changed things, so why should four more?

Sarah ascended the steps to her throne, the center exhibit for the festival in the square. Her mind washed away thoughts of the previous battle between her and her former shadow. She looked out on a square full of creatures, most having left all other modes of entertainment to discover the winner of the contest. To her right stood the large scrying crystal, where she could see the winner approaching the doors to Sunset City, his cape consuming him in a darkness that was a sharp contrast to the vivid brightness of the day, and the phosphorescent greens that seemed to radiate from the nearby foliage. She knew it was Pandor, and was pleased to see that his cunning had made him the true winner. In fact, he had far outshone all of his competitors, leaving them behind in a two-hour wake, at the very least.

Sarah noticed her mouth was dry. Was it the wine or was it something else? The nagging sensation came back again, the feeling that this was a man she knew but sometimes did not wish to know. What face was his? Was it of a man named Pandor, or another face, one that did not seem to match the presented persona, a visage of a beautiful soul that haunted her in her sleep? Sarah had heard elfin stories of the prophetic nature of dreams, but she also believed that one could interpret mere dreams based on fervent hopes as specters of a coming future, though they may not be. She wanted it to be what she dreamed. She wanted him to be who he was and who he was not supposed to be. Yet, she did not. She felt unable to face the possibility. So she captured herself in a spellbound obstinance to all thought, blocking out the whys, blocking out the possibilities, sending to the void a named desire she wished to remain nameless. What could a few more seconds hurt? For that was all she had before all truth was revealed.

These are the times when one wishes to be caught in the moment of the present, for any future possibility will bring equal dismay and happiness. The Grecian Urn. She shook her head at her bizarre somberness. Jeez, Sarah, that was way over the top. You’ve been around Sage too long.

Sage ambled to her side and nudged her. "You seem very thoughtful," he remarked softly, yet with an obvious enthusiasm and sense of expectation.

"Yes, I am, about many things." Sarah sighed heavily and let her shoulders fall. They did not stay so for long; the doors opened more and yet more, until the body of a man could be seen, precariously making his way into a suddenly parting sea of cheering people and creatures. Her shoulders were suddenly erect, and at attention, though her face bore a somber smile. "Well, there is our winner."

Sage chuckled. "Yes, and the source of all my merriment and all of your torment. You will see. Things will work out the way you always hoped. Just remember, Sarah. Remember what I have taught you: Always recognize the good in others, for, if you cherish it, it will never fail you. In the end you shall be rewarded for your faith a million times over."

Sarah’s eyes widened as she became doubly aware of her dry mouth and suddenly moist palms. Ignorant bliss demolished through truth, Sarah waited for the figure to float through the people and up the steps to her throne, achingly slow in the mesmerized trance of her mind, painfully bringing an eventual absolution of all her questions, donning a cape that was too slow approaching yet too terribly close to becoming removed.

Finally, Pandor, or whom Sarah had heretofore called Pandor, placed his foot upon the final step, looking like a squire coming to the queen to be dubbed with knighthood. Sarah could catch a glint of intense, green eyes, eyes that she had seen only two times before in reality, a thousand times over in dreams. A taut mouth, smiling ever so slightly and ever so sweetly, there was a sincerity that she had detected in this man that had made her doubt.

She pulled herself out of an obvious reverie, licked her lips, and prepared herself to make a speech she had practiced for a week, now. No matter how eloquent and natural a speaker she was, somehow she knew this would be the first in years to sound rehearsed, dry, and far away from her mind.

"Well, it looks like our winner has placed himself amongst the ranks of intelligent men, women, and creatures everywhere by solving the convoluted labyrinth! Please, let us have one round of applause for his ingenuity and cleverness!" The crowd whistled and cheered, while Pandor greeted their applause with a slight nod of his head. Sarah took a deep breath and addressed him. "Now, please give us the honor of seeing who bears such a cunning mind."

Slowly, with unshaking yet reluctant motion, he pulled the cape from the position from whence it concealed his face. A sharp intake of breath made an audible snatch as Sarah revealed her surprise, however slightly and queenly in its composure. Sarah took in the changes of four years; Jareth’s face was not quite so gaunt as it had once been, but it possessed a thinness, not characteristic of a villainous man, but of a self-suffering ascetic. Intense, green eyes glistened from a face bearing a healthy olive complexion, that had been somewhat tanned from long days in the sun. Golden hair flowed in one stream, thick and cream-streaked in the sunlight, tied in the rear by a green strip of leather. Hair of the same gold shone on his face, where a goatee, trimmed neatly, encompassed a wary, yet sincere smile.

Something seemed to click within Sarah, and her face suddenly returned to its natural glow. "Well, well, if it isn’t Pandor?! I had a gut feeling you were going to win!" She shook her head, her smile too big for the occasion. She looked out upon the crowd. "Well, you all know what the reward is for the winner!" She looked at Jareth. "I suppose you will wish to take it now?"

Jareth arched his brow slightly, then looked to Sage for clarification as to this unexpected and somehow absurd geniality on the part of Sarah. The elf merely shrugged his shoulders.

Jareth addressed Sarah, keeping the audience at the corner of his vision and attention. "I would never dream of accepting a coerced kiss from Your Majesty. I would be content to be allowed the reward of kissing your hand. To succeed in your name is the greatest reward of all."

"Very well, then. It shall be as you have asked." She raised her hand slightly, but it was Jareth who had to step forward in retrieving her hand. He placed a gentle kiss upon the back of her hand that would have chilled her, had not something else unwarranted and unexpected within Sarah chilled her sooner, and in a different manner. Upon the completion of the kiss, Sarah looked out upon the crowd and said, "This fine gentleman will be the guest of honor at a fine banquet planned for this evening, as promised. Until then, make merry and prepare for the biggest feast of all! Good day to you all!"

Those final words said, Sarah turned around. Her face made an abrupt transformation. She approached Sage and took a deep breath before saying in a level, consciously controlled voice, "I do not know what made you think this was a good idea. I have no clue what you thought I would find humorous about this. I will speak with you later, but not now. I must calm myself."

She then walked to confront Jareth. She did not speak to him, but turned to face Sage, whose face was dark with sadness. "Please make sure he is led to his quarters and given his clothing for the evening." She faced Jareth once again, whose composure was that of a man being dealt well-deserved retribution. "You and I shall talk, as well. When I am more fit."

With that, she rushed off at Godspeed, tending to the few errands remaining from without the castle, leaving a baffled Sage and a somber Jareth in her wake.