In which Mucho Background Info is Filled In!

AU- Ugh. I hate it when this happens. Okay, I was reading through the reviews (24 as of now! I'm so proud of me! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!) I noticed that some of you had questions, I'm sorry I didn't e-mail you, Ravyn but I thought it would be better to answer that question here rather than on a personal basis.

Okay, first of all, I'm sorry if I didn't say this more clearly in the story but Jareth has been pestering Sarah for seven years (that would make her about 22), so yes, he has been popping in and out of her life since after the Labyrinth incident. I like to think Jareth would have given her a month or so to cool down though...

Also, about the Furniture, the thing that's actually special is the apartment complex itself. I was originally going to make it a side effect of long term contact with the Ghostly poltergeist resident (Bea), but logically the effect would fade after Bea leaves the aboveground (and she does go, believe you me! That's all I'm gonna tell you) That could come back and bite me in the butt during the sequel so I'm looking for a different reason. Right now it's under unexplained phenomena. Anything that resides in that apartment building acquires permanent sentience. All the neighbors have living furniture too, but again. I'm saving it for the Sequel.

Last but not least, this one came in via e-mail and I could have just answered you straight-aways BrandiElf, but the questions seemed to me that it would be one that would be coming up again and again. Yes, Cain's name does have biblical importance. I really couldn't resist the irony. I thought it was just so terribly appropriate. Shoot me, I don't care!

Gee, that was a mouthful. I'll restrain from monster Author's Notes in the future.

***

Chapter six: In Which Sarah gets yet Another Lesson and much Background is Filled in!

Theme music: There She goes (I don't know who that's by)

***

Jesse had entered the room once to stoke the fire, there was a permanent evening chill in the Sunset Strip. Sarah had carefully wrapped the coarse wool blankets around herself in a sort of toga, so she could sit on the side of the bed. Anything to lessen the impression of `Bedtime Story!' It just didn't seem right to be curled up naked under the blankets while a rock star's wet dream sat in a chair beside you and told you a story. If he kissed her forehead and told her `Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite!' she would not be responsible for the ensuing violence.

That thought was strangely comforting.

Jareth was uncharacteristically serious tonight, though. He probably wouldn't take the opportunity. He sat leaned forward in the armchair that he'd conjured up from god only knew where. His long tapered, musician's finger were laced firmly together and supported his temples, shielding his eyes at the same time.

"So?" Sarah prompted.

"So." he murmured. "Forgive my silence, Sarah. I'm just trying to order the story in my head so it will make the most sense. I'm sure you've needed to do the same a time or two in your profession?"

Sarah nodded. "All the time. Take as long as you need."

Jareth leaned back. "Thank you, but I think I have it." he took a deep breath, fortifying himself for what would assuredly be a trying half an hour.

"All right." He began. "I was born 200,347,98 years ago. That makes me a very mature man by Fae standards. Someone's usually killed us off by the time we're 100,000. That's most of the reason that our numbers grow so slim, you can tell that I have very strong magical powers. Would you believe me that, to date, I am the strongest Fae ever to walk the Underground?"

Sarah frowned and thought it over in her head. "I think that... if there was someone stronger than you, I would be very frightened." She answered truthfully.

"And rightly so." Jareth agreed. "I know that by human standards I am anything but kind, but believe me Sarah, there are those worse than I. My brother Cain for example. We share a father, yet different mothers. Mine was mortal, his was Fae." He paused to let Sarah digest that.

"You-you're half human?" Sarah stammered.

"Indeed I am, my dear. It's half the reason I am so strong, the Fae have lived so long that they've in-bred themselves, thus weakening their magical talents. My father was very broad minded for his generation, for any generation actually. Once he had done his duty to the Faerie Council he sent his wife away, they never got along, and took a Mortal Concubine." Jareth paused to sigh nostalgically. "My Mother was... very beautiful, she was also very kind, and very brave. I always knew her to be that best of mortal-kin incarnate." He chuckled. "Sometimes I despaired of finding a bride for myself that could hold a candle to her." he shook his head again. "But I digress.

My Mother was an Arch Druid. It was said that magic flowed in her veins instead of blood, she could do more with one breath than what ten druids could do in ten years, even if they did nothing but purify Sorcerous waste in all that time. I inherited her talent, in some small measure. Druid magic mixed with Faerie blood made an explosive match in me. Sometimes I wonder if I am worthy of it.

My Brother Cain, was fed poison about my Mother from the day of his birth, he too was born of the most powerful of the Fae, yet he has never held a candle to me. His mother taught him to hate mortals, for she saw my father's love for my mother to be the ultimate slap in the face. Her bruised pride motivated her to raise Cain as a twisted purist of the worst kind. Being second to what he saw as the ultimate abomination, me, only increased Cain's bitterness.

A few thousand years ago, I led a campaign to unite all of the Underground under one rule, and end forever the Feudalism of my kindred. With my power behind me, I succeeded, but Cain led the most powerful opposition to me. It was little to no trouble to put down his army, whom I pardoned since they were mostly demoralized farmers from the Velt plains, held only by fear of Cain's ire. Cain I pardoned as well, with a small chastisement... I actually found the inspiration for it from the Religion of the Sacrificed God. I'm afraid what I intended to be mercy only rubbed salt in Cain's wounds. I doubt you had time to notice in your tussle with him, but Cain has a small brand on his forehead. A circle scored with four crosshatched lines.

That symbol is Fae script, it loosely translates as `attempted Fratricide' or more specifically attempted killing of a sibling who is ahead of you in line for power and getting caught. That brand severely limits his skills, he can use no magic other than the most instinctual without becoming mortally ill. I also dropped him in the more... intricate section of my Labyrinth, I made sure to seal that off to you to make the game more fair. Cain's been wandering about in there for literal centuries, and I couldn't take the risk that you might encounter him and..." here Jareth drew an eloquent line across his throat with his thumbnail.

"So now he's out." Sarah finished.

"Yes." Jareth agreed. "Now he's out, I wasn't expecting him for another few years to be truthful. He may have had help, he was a major patron of the Sorcerers during the Underground War. Understandably he must have been most incensed when he heard about you. I can't blame him, in his sick twisted little mind Killing you would be the ultimate revenge." Jareth shook his head. "It seems that, now, I have to kill him."

Sarah frowned. "Are you sure? Can't you just drop him back into the Labyrinth?"

Jareth shook his head, "I've considered all the options. No. He'll know the Labyrinth too well by now. If by some miracle he gains power in the Underground he'll most certainly put it to use by driving every mortal back up to the Underground. Our humans wouldn't be able to survive in your hum-drum world. They'd suffocate, or go mad. Your officials would certainly dub them as such." He exhaled through gritted teeth. "No. These people are mine. Mine to punish, mine to reward, and mine to protect. Even if I must kill my own brother to do it..." he leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Then so be it." he muttered. "So be it."

Sarah bit her lip as she took in the new dimension of Jareth she'd just been presented with. He'd certainly hinted that he had such a side, but she had never seen it so clearly as tonight. She took a breath, composed herself and scooted closer to him.

"Jareth, tell me about growing up here. What was it like?" she asked quietly.

Jareth looked down from whatever image the ceiling was painting for him. A soft smile was tugging at his lips. "We are full of questions tonight, aren't we? I thought one bedtime story was the limit? That's what my mother always told me." he teased.

Sarah kicked him lightly in the shin, although she didn't do much more damage than smudge the shine on his boots. Jareth didn't seem to mind. He drew a dramatic sigh.

"Well! If you're going to be like -that-!" he drawled. "I suppose I have -no- choice, but beware Little Princess. I told you the last story because you had a right to know, I'll demand payment for this one." He rolled his eyes comically. "Tell me, would you kiss me for a story?"

Sarah frowned and pursed her lips. "A kiss." She repeated. "And you'll tell me about your childhood?"

"Oh yes, indeed!" Jareth leaned forward expectantly, a wicked grin painted across his face. "Just one little kiss."

Sarah shrugged and leaned forward till there was no more than a thought's worth of space between them. She tried hard to ignore that clattering beat of her heart and the suddenly intense look of hunger darkening Jareth's eyes... but it was too late, she lost her nerve and brushed her lips across his cheek.

Jareth pouted. "You call THAT a kiss?" he cried indignantly.

Sarah looked pointedly the other way. "You never said where or what kind!" she said firmly.

"You name your kisses on the Aboveground?" Jareth asked quizzically. "Remind me to ask you about that sometime. As for now, I must take my leave of you." he blew a flirtatious kiss in her direction.

"HEY! Waitjustonegodessbedamnedminutehere! What about your promise? I paid you!" Sarah shouted.

Jareth nodded sagely. "Ah yes, well as I didn't specify what kind of kiss I should be paid, you never specified when I should tell you your story! Besides, the rule stands, one story a night. Maybe tomorrow." He winked comically at her. "Besides, My Darling Sarah, duty has just called loudly and violently, and is, I believe throwing furniture. I'll give Beatrice your good regards. TTFN, Ta ta for now!" he paused to leer lasciviously at Sarah's chest. "Though it is so very tempting to stay and watch the splendid scenery."

Sarah gasped and clasped her arms over her bare chest, in her fascination with Jareth's tale she hadn't noticed that she'd been giving him a free peep show. When she looked back up, the miscreant had vanished to ultimately safer pastures.

Sarah threw herself back at the bed.

"Men!" she huffed at the ceiling. "Can't live with him and shooting him wouldn't do any good!"

Jareth's disembodied laughter floated through the empty air. "Goodnight, sweet Sarah. Sleep tight and don't let the ziparumpazoos bite!"

***

End Chapter Six

***

AU- that last sentiment of Jareth's is one that my dearly departed Daddy used to say to me every night before I went to bed. Man, he was twisted. Well, the fruit never falls far from the tree they say!

Y'know, a friend of mine brought up an interesting topic today. (I'll mention no names but if you read the reviews you might guess who she is!) Chocolate milkshakes and ice-cream really stimulate the creative processes! We're busily conducting research, e-mail me with your findings!

My results are two chapters of Legends in one day, and some of my best work! I'm inclined to believe!