AN: Do you remember a long, long time ago, when I propositioned putting the Goblin King in a kilt? I haven't forgotten…

One year later…

The Goblin King turned swiftly on his boot heel away from the window and stalked across his throne room, a nefarious smirk snaking across his face. Oh, how he had been anticipating this.

Plotting, scheming, concocting the perfect vengeance. Many a late night hour had been spent alone in his study, fingers steepled in front of his face as he weighed the pros and cons of various plans. He knew he must be careful not to be too cruel, but at the same time, subtlety would not serve him well in this particular venture. His meaning must be clear, undeniable, unforgettable. Now the moment was here, and he was practically giddy with anticipation. It had been far too long since he'd properly tormented his wife.

He stilled in concentration, then conjured the product of his machinations and rolled it up and down his arm before grasping it firmly in his gloved hand. Seeing the wicked gleam in his eye, several of the smarter goblins had begun scooting towards the exit, but quickly moved out of the way of his pointed boots as he danced out of the room in a swift solo waltz, leaving only the echo of his booming laugh to unsettle his confused subjects.

In the royal courtyard, which was visible from the throne room far above, Queen Sarah was working out the final details for the annual Spring Festival with her goblins. This was the third time she would be hosting, and the first that she was confident in her ability to do so. Guests from all over the Underground would begin arriving at sundown, and just now the final preparations were being put into place, with several hours still to spare. She smiled and took a long drink from her goblet, proudly surveying the newly clean and decorated courtyard. It was overflowing with exotic flowers and plants bearing a variety of goblin fruits, which varied between innocuous to down right dangerous, all grown specially for the occasion.

Her children were with most of the goblins and the other underage revelers in the hedge maze, safe for the night, and all that was left now was to prepare herself. Satisfied that all was well, she flounced back inside her castle and pranced down the freshly scrubbed halls, past goblins sweeping and singing and bowing and polishing, up staircase after staircase, all the way to her chambers and a nice hot bath.

"Jareth?" Sarah called out some time later upon hearing a strange noise in the main chamber. When there was no answer, she climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel around her lean, wet body, hopeful to find her husband waiting for her. Her expression fell a bit to find the room still empty. She realized suddenly that it had been several days since she had seen him other than in passing or had a real conversation with him, so wrapped up she had been in preparing for this festival. She wondered how he had been occupying himself, and felt a twinge of guilt for not making time for him. Followed by a twinge of irritation that he had not offered to help with the preparations. As she dressed and primped, she resolved that they would do something special after the festival, just the two of them. Perhaps something involving the bathtub, she thought with a sly grin.

While finishing her make-up, she munched on a shiny red apple that had been conveniently sitting on her dresser, and in her distraction, failed to realize the oddness of being provided nothing but a piece of fruit for dinner…

As the sun sank behind the distant purple mountains, they began to arrive. Fae folk, tall and beautiful, lavishly dressed, shimmered into being all throughout the courtyard. Elves and nymphs and centaurs followed, gliding gracefully in from the portals in the outskirts of the Labyrinth. Trolls and dwarves climbed in slowly over the city walls, plodding along proudly in their best garments, coming in pairs and singles. As the evening deepened and the torches were lit, all the rest of those attending began to filter in, humanoid creatures of various races and classes, trickling in from the shadows where they had been watching as the beautiful and powerful had arrived.

The Goblin King and Queen stood side by side, watching the peoples gathering, from a balcony just above the middle of the courtyard. He was resplendent in two shades of red leather and a heavy black velvet cloak with a high spiked collar, and she complimented him in a long fitted gown of black silk and layered red chiffon, with gold wire accenting her hair and twining around her bare arms. When the moment was right, His Majesty raised his arms and boomed out over the crowd, "Welcome to the Goblin Kingdom, all you denizens of the Underground, great and small. We celebrate another year of life, of fertility, of fruitfulness. May this night be particularly entertaining for all."

He said this last part in a strange tone, and Sarah eyed him questioningly. He kept his gaze on the attentive crowd, however, and so Sarah simply shrugged and dismissed it.

"Ostara is nigh!" he roared, arms upraised, and the crowd roared back, to their mutual delight. The castle doors swung open to let the masses flood in, and the party began.

"Pie," Sarah murmured, then paused, confused as to why she had said that. She turned to her king only to find empty space beside her. She frowned. It was almost as if he was avoiding her on purpose. She shook her head and made her way to the ballroom, ready to play hostess.

On the balcony rail behind her, a small pastry shimmered discreetly into being, a steaming omen in the early moonlight.

The Goblin King, having made his rounds around the ballroom with insulting brevity, settled into a curtained alcove and reclined on the cushions with a bottle of wine, just as Sarah began descending the staircase. Here, he commanded a view of the gathering while still maintaining anonymity; the darkness of the alcove and the sheer curtain hung in the entrance shielded him from view.

He by no means wished to miss the night's upcoming events, but it was necessary to enjoy them from a distance at first. His Queen would be under the influence of powerful magic for the next several hours, and anyone (except himself) who spoke to her would be at the mercy of his spell. As long as he was out of sight, he would hopefully be out of mind, which was necessary for his plans. He chuckled jovially and took a swig off his bottle, immensely pleased with himself.

Jareth was aware of a small voice in the back of his mind warning him that this was unlikely to go according to plan, but he ignored it in favor of the delicious mental image of Sarah begging him for his help, at any cost. The little voice piped up again, noting that he despised weak, easily-foiled women, and that he loved Sarah specifically because she was none such, but again he silenced the voice, desperately trying to sustain his lovely fantasy of her begging, preferable while wearing something tiny and glittery.

He grinned, seeing that she was now almost at the bottom of the staircase.

Let the fun begin.

The dewy light from strings of glowing baubles illuminated Sarah's face as she descending the final steps of the staircase alone. Everything was perfect, everything was beautiful, from the decor to the refreshments to the guests, everything that her eyes touched was lovely and magical. She was very pleased that, once again, this event was going off without a hitch.

A young woman approached her, the curly-headed daughter of a wealthy fae lord. It was custom for all the somebodies to greet their host and pay respects before indulging in the food and drink; Lady Bowena was the first of many.

"Your Majesty," she said, falling into a deep curtsy in front of Sarah, "I am once again intrigued by the unusual beauty of your remarkable home."

Sarah extended a gloved hand and graciously helped Lady Bowena to stand, then, without any input from her conscious mind, blurted out, "Gnome."

There was an awkward moment of silence as both women wondered why she had said that. Sarah broke the pause by hurriedly reciting the appropriate response. "My home is yours, and your family's, Lady Bowena."

Relieved at this return to formality, Lady Bowena opened her mouth to give the expected reply of: "My family and I thank you for your benevolent hospitality", but instead, she let out a shrill squeal as a garden gnome in green overalls and a pointy red hat suddenly darted out from beneath her skirts. The little creature frowned up at the lady's outburst with disapproval, then waddled off in the direction of the food tables.

Lady Bowena flushed bright red, silently excused herself from the Queen's presence with a curtsy, and hurried away. Sarah stared after the gnome with wide eyes. She started to follow it, intending to investigate, but after only a few steps her path was blocked by the elderly Prince Awen of the elves.

"Lovely Goblin Queen," he started, bowing his head and kissing the back of her hand, "of your hospitality none could ever hold scorn."

This time Sarah noticed the odd feeling in her throat, and was able to suppress it in time. "Thank you, I am always happy to see you, Prince Awen. Unicorn."

She slapped her other hand over her mouth, but it was too late. They both stared in astonishment as a large, single white horn grew from the middle of the prince's forehead. The crowd around them stilled, watching the curious interaction discretely out of the corner of their eyes.

"I… I…" Sarah started, bewildered and flustered. What was going on?

Prince Awen blinked a few times, then said politely, and with great effort, "While I am always appreciative of gifts from your majesty, in this case I really must protest…"

"Dance contest!" Sarah blurted out, then turned to run away, one hand holding up her skirts and the other clapped over her mouth. Behind her, the helpless old elf prince immediately began breakdancing in the middle of the ballroom floor. The surrounding crowd, deciding that this must have been pre-planned entertainment (you never knew in the Goblin Kingdom), cheered and several others joined in, amused at the opportunity to show off their knowledge of Aboveground street dancing.

Sarah darted to the edge of the room, narrowly avoiding several eager nobles, and hid herself behind a large white pillar to try and gather her bearings. Her magic was clearly on the fritz. She held her hand in front of her face, focusing and willing her magic to manifest itself so that she could examine it. Several tiny white balls of light began dancing in her palm, and Sarah furrowed her brow in confusion as she willed them away again. All seemed to be as it should, her magic was responding to and obeying her perfectly. What the heck was going on then?

Before she could ponder it any further, she was discovered by another person wanting to pay their respects, this time the squat, elderly, and infamously volatile Queen Bridgid of the dwarven realm. Ignoring or walking away from such a person could very likely result in war, so Sarah had no choice but to face her and hope for the best. The two monarchs curtsied formally to each other, then straightened. Her dwarf husband, King Consort Bogur, hovered behind his wife and gave Sarah a stiff bow.

"Well, you've pulled it off again!" the Dwarf Queen belted out in her deep, brusque voice. "It's always a wonder to me how you managed to turn this chaotic cesspool of a castle into something almost sanguine!"

Sarah nodded and smiled appreciatively, biting firmly down on her traitorous tongue. It was no use though. The word erupted from her mouth with a force beyond her control.

"Penguin."

Sarah winced and closed her eyes in horror. She opened them again, and gasped.

"I am so, so sorry," she said to the penguin wearing the Dwarf Queen's jeweled purple dress and feather boa.

"Honk!" the penguin yelled back, flapping its wings angrily.

"You- you- you change her back right now!" the Dwarf King spluttered furiously, his fists balling up at his sides and his bulbous face turning bright red.

Sarah had already started moving away from them, but was unfortunately still within hearing distance. "Eyebrow," she uttered regretfully, and a massive third eyebrow sprouted suddenly on King Bogur's forehead, just above the other two.

He looked up and gave a fearsome shout, then him and his penguin wife began waddling after Sarah, shouting and honking angrily by turns. Having the advantage of long legs, she lost them easily in the swirling crowds, and quickly made an escape to the courtyard outside, hoping to find Jareth and get his help to set things straight.

She found him alright, but it was readily apparent that he was unlikely to be her salvation this night. He leaned lazily against a wall and watched her approach with a knowing smirk, laughter shining from his eyes.

"You look a bit flustered, love. Something the matter?" he said, eyes twinkling and voice overflowing with wicked mirth.

Sarah noticed immediately that she felt no compulsion to rhyme his words. That could mean only one thing…

"This is your magic inside me!" she accused him hotly. "You're responsible for all of this! But how- why…!"

He just tilted his head and gave her an insufferable smirk, waiting for her to figure it out.

"The apple!" she blurted in disbelief. "You left me a cursed apple!"

"And you ate it." he replied cheerfully, very much enjoying her passionate anger.

"Why?" she fumed. She paused, trying to think what might be motivating him, but could come up with nothing. Her husband had always loved to tease her and play games, as was his nature, but this seemed to be unusually mean spirited. He knew how she felt about bewitched fruit.

He continued smirking silently at her.

"Are seriously not going to tell my why you're doing this?" she said, starting to feel hurt.

Hearing the growing upset in her voice, Jareth softened a hair. "Precious thing, after all this time, can you really not recognize a simple prank?"

"What? A prank?" she asked, still confused.

She thought furiously for a moment, and then it came to her. "Wait, what is today? Is this about- is today April Fools in the Above?" she ask accusingly.

His smug face was all the confirmation she needed.

"Really, Goblin King, this is a bit extreme, don't you think?" she asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

Jareth's expression was one wounded pride. "Hmf. You had your fun last year, now it's my turn," he replied smoothly, pushing off from the wall and standing up straight.

"Do you have any idea what I've done so far tonight? Jareth, you have to undo this before something really bad happens."

"Sarah, Sarah," he purred in his deep, sultry voice, twining a strand of her dark hair around his fingers as he spoke. He leaned in very close, so that his breath was warm and soft on her ear, and his wild blonde hair tickled her cheek. "This spell must run its course, it cannot be reversed." He pulled back to meet her gaze, and she saw the mischief dancing in his eyes. "I can save you, however, make excuses for you, hide you away, play host in your stead until the magic has worn off at midnight. I can do all of this, if you will only do as I say."

She stepped back and glared at him suspiciously. "What are you up to, Jareth?"

He was unable to completely suppress his smirk. "All I ask is that you concede this day to me as a victory, for all time, in all worlds."

Sarah balked. What he was asking was the equivalent of a white flag, a surrender, from now on on this day every year, she would have to do whatever he said.

Clearly he had hit his head at some point.

Seeing her pause and mistaking it for hesitation, he stepping in close to her again and purred in a low, reassuring tone, "Come now, you know you must concede. There's no telling what might happen if you refuse. At very least, all your work putting this festival together will be ruined. At worse, innocent blood might be spilt."

Sarah seemed to struggle furiously with something for a moment, then leaned in close to him, her expression unreadable. She paused when their lips were a finger's width apart, and spoke a single word.

"Kilt."

Jareth felt a sudden breeze as his wife stepped back, and, looking down, was actually stunned to find his read leather outfit replaced with a black and red plaid kilt. Not only that, the kilt seemed to be the only thing he was wearing, besides his amulet. Even his feet were bare.

"That's impossible!" he objected, looking up at her with furious astonishment. "You can't use my own magic against me!"

She smirked triumphantly and put her hands on her hips. "Tree." she said pointedly.

Jareth heard a creaking sound, and jumped out of the way just in time to avoid a falling sapling that had just dropped out of the sky. Sarah walked calmly up to him and gave him a sweet smile. "My will is as strong as yours, lover. Come find me when you have a real offer."

He bared his teeth at her, but dared not say anything more, knowing that his words could and would be used against him.

Sarah marched off into the shadows of the courtyard, resigning herself to several hours of hiding while waiting for the spell to wear off. Her reputation would be ruined and her guests would be furious, but that was better than them being turned into something unpleasant.

Her plan, however, caught on a major snag. The shadowy alley that she had wandered into, though she couldn't see it yet, was already occupied. Prince Frezix of the mountain fae looked up from the young nymph he was seducing and grinned. He dismissed his nameless lover without a second thought, in favor of a far greater prize, the untouchable Goblin Queen herself. Long had he had his gaze on her, and many times in the last century had he unsuccessfully attempted to woo her. It was a dangerous game, as unsavory things tended to happen to those who got too friendly with the beautiful queen, but he couldn't resist the idea of being the only man in the Underground able to seduce her away from that infamous husband of hers.

He turned himself into a housecat and ran up to her, rubbing himself against her legs. She bent down for a moment to pet him, then stopped and stepped away, scowling at him suspiciously.

"Wait a minute- I recognize you. Prince Frezix?"

He turned back into himself and gave her a smoldering grin as he approached, but before he could get close or say a word she held up a hand and stopped him, speaking angrily.

"Do you really have nothing better to do than to continually harass me after I've made it clear I'm not interested?" She asked in an exasperated tone. "Actually, don't answer that, in fact don't say anything at all, I really don't have time for this." She turned and began to walk away briskly.

Momentarily struck dumb by her uncharacteristic rudeness, he nearly let her escape. Just before she rounded the corner, he called out, face wearing a pained look and one hand clutching his heart, "Oh cruel beauty, how long will you torment me with this false disregard? Alas!"

She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him, whispering something that he didn't quite catch. Then she hurried off back in the direction of the castle. He chased after her in hot pursuit, ever alert for the Goblin King and overjoyed at his continued absence. Normally those two were always near each other. Perhaps their odd practice of monogamy had finally come to an end? One could only hope.

Sarah looked over her shoulder, pleased that he was following her. Going back inside was a risk, but the payoff would be worth it. Perhaps this would rid her of Frezix forever. As she darted back inside she stopped and turned, waiting for him to catch up. He followed after a few seconds, walking strangely and looking a little green. While he was still a few yards away he grabbed his stomach and doubled over, then straightened and let loose the loudest belch Sarah had ever heard. The surrounding crowd fell silent with shock, then backed away and murmured in disgust as the belch was followed by a long string of obscene flatulence (One could deduce that Sarah had rhymed his "Alas" with "gas").

He stared at her, face bright with humiliation, then, amazingly, said, "If this is your means of testing my affection, consider me still devote."

Sarah shook her head in disbelief, then replied with no sympathy, "Goat." She then turned and skipped off into the now drunken revelers (They had communally decided that the no-drinking-before-greeting-the-queen rule only applied if the queen remained in the building), leaving the flatulent barnyard animal that had once been a fae prince to the disgusted crowd, who began throwing fruit at it in an attempt to chase it outside.

Meanwhile, Sarah had come up with a Clever Idea. She shoved some cotton fluff she had pulled out of a cushion into her ears, and found that as long as she was unable to hear what people said, she was not compelled to rhyme-curse them. So as to not appear rude, she began carrying around a bottle of wine and willfully giving the impression that she was too drunk to understand what people were saying to her. Instead, she satisfied them by dancing with anyone who approached her, and she soon began to have a marvelous time.

That is, until the Dwarf Queen found her again.

The richly dressed penguin spotted her in the middle of a spin with the King Tosha of the elves (an ancient creature, but remarkably spry) and waddled towards her as fast as she could, honking angrily and pecking anyone who got in her way. Her husband followed behind her, looking extremely disgruntled and glowering ferociously up at anyone who dared to complain about his wife's behaviour.

Sarah gulped and excused herself from the dance, darting off into a crowd of tangoing nymphs and slipping onto a deserted moonlit balcony.

This was a mistake. The balcony was deserted for good reason, as it was where the gassy goat had ended up. After all the abuse he had endured, he was agitated to the point of being nearly feral. He took one look at Sarah and charged, determined now to win his prize at any cost. Sarah screamed and dropped her now-empty bottle, turning around and trying to run, but was unable to get away in time. Frezix the flatulent goat ran up on her and dipped his head between her legs, hoisting her up onto his back and taking off through the crowd with a mighty fart of triumph.

It was at this moment that the Goblin King reentered the room.

He noticed the spectacle at once, as at least half the room was watching. The other half were still preoccupied with the demon-penguin and the breakdancing unicorn-elf prince.

Jareth, ever the jealous lover, hiked up his kilt and took off after the goat that was stealing his wife.

With a snap of his fingers, several goblins appeared and raced after the goat ahead of their. They caught it by the legs and threw it to the floor in a cloud of explosive stench, then dragged it off bleating to some unpleasant place to wait for the curse to wear off. Jareth thanked his lucky stars that the insolent prince's parents were not attending tonight. He sprinted forward, kilt flapping about his bare thighs, and got there just in time to catch Sarah in his arms and save her from the indignity of falling on the floor. He held her close while she regained her bearings.

It would have been a romantic moment, just like in the movies, if she hadn't been glaring silently up at him with murder in her eyes. He took a deep breath, aware of the hundreds of eyes on him and knowing that his next words would likely determine his immediate fate. He discreetly pulled the cotton out of her left ear.

"How about a truce?" he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. He couldn't think of anything horrible that rhymed with truce. Except for moose. And goose! Bogdamnit.

She quirked an eyebrow neutrally, signalling him to continue.

"I'll agree to help smooth things over, if you agree to withhold from publicly pranking me." This was a huge risk. Lots of terrible things rhymed with me. He tried not to hold his breath or appear nervous.

She furrowed her brow and opened her mouth, and he inhaled sharply.

"Agreed. No more pranks on either side." she whispered back.

He frowned, but nodded, knowing it was a necessary sacrifice.

She continued, "Until next year, anyway."

He grinned widely, well pleased with this concession, and they shook on it, disguising the action between their bodies as he helped her to her feet. When they stepped apart, they were both smiling. Jareth turned toward the crowd, which was simultaneously rioting and attentively watching them, and raised his arms.

A blanket of quiet fell over the room.

"APRIL FOOLS!" he roared in a deep, laughter-infused, echoing voice, a manic grin on his handsome face as he smirked at the bewildered masses.

Absolute silence and stillness reigned for a terrifyingly long minute (excepting, of course, panting and thumping of the now-exhausted-but-still-compulsively-breakdancing-unicorn-elf-prince, and the royal dwarf couple, who were still rudely pushing through the crowd with lots of yelling and honking, somewhere off near the balcony that Sarah had run to), and the Goblin Queen begun to worry that complete pandemonium was about to break out in her ballroom.

Then a marvelous thing happened. The people nearest them begun to laugh and clap, and then the people behind them, and so on and so forth, until the entire room was a bubbling, jovial celebration once more. All the tension disappeared from the air, and people began dancing again. Several laughing trolls helped to hold down poor Prince Awen so that he could rest, and even the Dwarf King Bogur chuckled a bit, then grabbed his wife's flippers and led her off in a waltz.

Jareth smiled genuinely at his queen, who was shaking her head and withholding laughter, and crooked his elbow toward her. She tucked her arm in his and allowed him to lead her up the staircase. She ignored the unfriendly looks of those who were skeptical that this had all been planned, and he ignored the depraved and near-hysterical catcalls from the men and women who suddenly realized that the always-well-dressed Goblin King had just been nearly naked in public. The party continued below, and would continue well into the morning, but the Goblin King and Queen excused themselves for the time being, needing a moment to themselves. All the effects of the curse would wear off at midnight, and things would return to normal. Whatever that meant.

They got to their rooms and continued walking, both feeling the need to wind down together in a hot bath. Unfortunately, neither of them noticed the garden gnome, who was creeping silently along after them, carrying the now-cold apple pie and wearing a devilish grin.

AN: Holy bagpipes, what did I just write?! I think I may have finally lost my damn mind. Hope you enjoyed it haha.

Please review! Reviews are love!