Author's Note--- I don't own Jareth, all other characters (unless otherwise stated) belong to me. Jareth belongs to Henson, etc. etc.

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It occurred to Jareth as they were spinning through darkness that maybe 'Underground' meant Hell. Wasn't Hell supposed to be underground? He had wished for it, after all.

Suddenly his feet hit solid ground. He stumbled a bit, dizzy, before Crash grabbed his arm and steadied him. Jareth blinked to clear his head and gasped. He was in the middle of a vast but empty throne-room, glittering and pale. The cool, sandy colored granite stones beneath his feet were soothing.

"Come on! King waiting!" Snort whispered, nudging the boy forward as he and the rest of the Goblins began to walk down the long strip of pale silk that lead to the intricately carved throne which sat upon a raised dais.

Upon the throne sat a regal looking figure, all sharp features and pale brown hair. Jareth moved forward slowly, terrified. He was cold and shivering, filthy and upset. He didn't want to meet the king.

At least he was sure he wasn't in Hell.

"King, we brung boy!" Twitch cried when they reached the end of the dais.

"Yes, I see that." Valdrom said. "A little bit worse for wear, though, isn't he?"

"We finds him like this!" Snort said quickly.

"Honest!" Crash interjected.

"Alright, alright. I'll take your word for it."

Jareth felt like crying again, but he didn't think crying in front of kings was anyway to conduct himself so he bit back the tears and stood absolutely still, waiting.

The whole room smelled like magic, he thought, powerful magic. He could almost taste it.

Valdrom studied the small, pale, wisp of a boy that stood before him. He took in his pale blond hair, his miss-matched blue eyes, and the heavy aura of magic that hung around him like a cloak. If the king had had doubts before, they were gone now. This boy was a Fae, born and bred. Quite impossible that he was the product of a coupling of two humans. Impossible that he was even half Fae. Magic hung too thickly in the air around him, flowed too rapidly through his veins.

Who had fathered this strange and powerful boy? Who was his mother? Children were not cast away in the Fae court. They were too precious. Too rare. It simply wasn't done.

"Snort, take the boy to the royal nursery. Get him bathed and clothed properly. I am sure that Khormich will enjoy the company." the king commanded.

"Take boy to Prince's nursery?!" Snort was taken a-back. "Common boy to Prince's nursery?"

"Do not argue with me, Snort."

Snort looked down. "Yes, Majesty. Come on, boy." Snort stalked off towards one of the many doors that decorated the walls. Jareth followed him without saying a word.

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"Who are you?" the sandy-haired boy demanded, a small fist on his hip, feet shoulder's width apart.

"Jareth." Jareth said, feeling uncomfortable in the fine clothes he had been dressed in after having been furiously washed clean by a kindly dwarf named Marrey.

"I'm Prince Khormich." the boy said. "And one day I'm going to be King of the whole realm of the Fae." His glassy gray eyes glittered.

"That's very nice for you." Jareth said solemnly.

"Why are you here?" Khormich demanded. "This is my nursery, after all."

"I don't know. The King told one of the wrinkly little goblin things to..."

"My father?"

"Well, if you're the prince then that must mean your father is the king." Jareth pointed out. "So yes."

"He put you here?"

Jareth stared at the boy. "Didn't I just say that?" he asked incredulously.

"I was just making sure..." Khormich muttered. "Don't look at me like I'm a nitwit."

"Then stop acting like one." Jareth said matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

Khormich gaped. "What did you just say?"

"Then stop acting like one." Jareth repeated, annunciating the syllables more clearly this time.

"I'm telling Marrey that you're being mean to me!" Khormich cried. "Then you're going to be punished, because I'm a prince and you're just a nobody."

"Fine, then." Jareth shrugged. "I'll be here waiting."

Khormich didn't move.

"Well? Are you going or not?" Jareth demanded.

"I... I..."

"See, look. You're not going to do it because I'm not afraid."

"That's not true!"

"Then why aren't you going?"

"I... I don't feel like it, that's all." Khormich stuttered. "And," he instantly straightened. "I don't have to do anything I don't want to do."

The boy was beginning to annoy Jareth. He turned and plodded off to sit in the window seat and gasped when he saw the view. A vast, endless field of green spotted with trees spread out as far as his eye could see. Roads zigzagged back and forth, spiraling down hills and through villages. Jareth had never seen anything like it.

"Hey! Don't turn your back on me. I was talking to you!" Khormich ordered, marching over to where Jareth was seated, not paying any attention to the little prince.

"Were you?" Jareth asked, not turning to acknowledge the boy's presence. "I though you were busy not doing anything you didn't want to do."

"I don't like you." Khormich stated.

"I don't care." Jareth said frankly.

"Why are you here?" Khormich demanded again. "Not here, in the nursery I mean, but here in the castle. Where are your parents? Why aren't you with them."

Jareth's eyes filled with tears and he turned away. "I don't have parents."

"Everyone has parents."

"Well, not me." Jareth paused. "Not anymore."

"Well what happened to them?"

Jareth didn't say anything.

"I demand you tell me! No, I order you to tell me."

Jareth still didn't say anything, but continued to stare out of the window.

"You can't ignore me! I'm your prince!"

"No you're not." Jareth said suddenly. "You're the prince of... of... what ever it is that lives here. Of all these different kinds of creatures. Of the... the Dwarves and the Goblins and the Fae. I'm not any of those things."

"Yes you are." Khormich was confused. "You're a Fae. Just like me."

"No I'm not. I'm human."

"You're too magical to be human." Khormich said. "I can smell it."

"I'm just... unnatural." Jareth whispered. "Son of demons. Unholy wretch." he quoted. "Not a Fae."

Just then the door swung open and the king strolled in.

"Father, Jareth refuses to admit he's a Fae! I don't think he likes us. I know he doesn't like me. He's been mean to me all morning." Khormich all but assaulted his father the second he set foot in the room.

"Calm down, Khormich." Valdrom said, patting the boy on the head. "Jareth has been through quite an ordeal. Let him be."

"But Father, he---"

"Let him be."

"Yes father." Khormich sighed.

"Jareth is going to be staying with us for quite some time, so you had best learn to get along with him."

"How long is... quite some time?" Jareth asked.

"Well, you haven't anywhere else to go, do you?" the king asked.

"No." Jareth said quietly.

"So what does it matter?"

"I'm not one of you." Jareth whispered. "I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere."

"Quite the contrary, actually."

"Told you." Khormich said.

"Khormich..." his father's voice was stern.

Khormich fell silent.

"You belong here. With us."

Jareth's eyes were wide.

"Forever." Valdrom said.