Hello Everyone who's still with me!

I appreciate your reviews and support, thank you much!

Here is the ending - Part III, hope you like it!

Your reviews (by chapter or on the whole thing) are very welcome...

And as I've run out of things to say,Ishall procced to the story itself.

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Chapter I

He had been wrong, of course. Completely and totally wrong. Jareth saw this now. And yet, he could have sworn then that she was almost his. Hell, he could swear it now: she WAS almost his. If it hadn't been for that confounded wall of ice-cold and completely solid mist, he wouldn't have to be standing here now: unable to pull out the rose's thorns that seemed to grow into him, and bitterly reflecting on his experience which had suddenly come back to him in a flash of recognition.

…They say your life passes before your eyes at deaths door…

She was reaching out to him, her will was there, her mind so open that anyone with the mental capacity of a carrot could get in; much less the King of the Goblins and the Ruler of the infamous Labyrinth could get in. A few moments of tenderness, of care – and his whole plan was thwarted.

468 years of planning, to be exact…

468 long years of work and research interspersed with complete agony:

Down the drain.

If all of his calculations were even close to being right, all Jareth had to do in order to regain his former power of the "before Sarah" days was to solve her Labyrinth, as she had conquered his.

It is the rules…

Problem #1 arose almost immediately: she didn't appear to have one. But, here the research kicked in. The royal library looked like battleground after the goblin war when the very tired and extremely sleep-deprived Jareth, sitting amid piles and piles of endless volumes established the ultimate truth: Everyone, human and fae alike, has their own inner labyrinth, somewhere deep inside, in their heart of hearts. Most live in complete oblivion, of course – unaware that inside them is anything more than some strange, hollow pulsing sound that doctors listen to in times of trouble. There was problem #2, staring him in the face with a malicious grin.

Lets see how you deal with this little slice…

Speaking of slicing. Jareth winced as his hand suddenly withered, sprouting thorns… it burned and bled, and to his horror the blood was becoming greener and more opaque. Quickly focusing on his reflections, he closed his eyes, to avoid seeing the rest.

…If you can't see it, its not there, right? Right…

It would have taken Sarah more than twice her lifetime to realize and visualize her own maze to the extent that anything three-dimensional could fit inside it, to bring forth this inner world of hers from the deep of her consciousness. A life time…and for him that would mean ages and ages as a "defeated." A wraith, a shadow, incapable of any complete action for the rest of eternity. A position no fae, let alone the former King, wanted to find himself in.

The only way, then, was to get in to it without her being aware of such a place…get in, and conquer... Quickly and easily… It would be a merciful kill, really – he had thought at the time. She wouldn't know what hit her – she would probably forget everything as the power to connect to and rule his world, a power she was not yet aware of, would shatter: reversing its course and allowing him to rule hers. And Jareth had found a way. A dangerous way. He had to project himself into the 6th dimension: the realm of fantasy.

Everything created in the imagination must exist somewhere. It could exist there, but was usually only accessible to its creator. The danger Jareth had faced, though, was far from imaginary. He needed to use the connection formed between them to play on her emotion, allowing him to overstep that line of consciousness, where Sara's logical thinking ended and her fantasy world began. Theoretically, he could do this. Theoretically, anything was possible. In fact, he had put this into action years before, a few aboveground days after she left his labyrinth, his heart of hearts, in crumbling ruins.

His emotions getting the better of him served a good purpose at the time, even though he did not realize it then. Playing his part, her romantic villain, he had begun to reforge their connection through Toby, and through the power and magic of his voice. Begun almost unconsciously, it deepened, and then drew his shadow, fae side to plotting and, finally, to action. Too bad the ground fell out form underneath his feet at the last moment. But calculations, it seemed could not encompass all of the mysteries of the human heart.

The last (and only) two fae's that had attempted to use such a connection to rule their intended victims, had ended up trapped in some illusive world were they could exist merely as shadows of clouds and raindrops. Theoretically. And that was not a fate Jareth would have picked for himself, as romantic and poetic as it all was.

Too bad... It would probably hurt less, maybe even not at all… purpleness swam before his eyes, condensing around his head in a halo… he never liked that color.

But, deciding that the end result would be well worth the risk, the Goblin King plunged ahead, crossing line by line the realms of Sarah's unconsciousness, mixing elements of himself into her, so that he would be able to exist in her 6th dimension. The first three borders were an easy win, as she was very definitely not on guard at the time, sure that she would never see him again after the episode with the mirror, when he had rushed to save his only link to survival and revitalization, forcing himself to live in the role() of the romantic villain once more…

God, how he detested that role – it was the worst one to be in…

This was where the danger lay. To loose the ultimate goal of a particular "role," be it seduction, power or both, was the equivalent of a loss. Which meant allowing the other to intrude into some corner of his mind whenever he or she chose. Needless to say, it hadn't happened often; he was, after all, not a King for nothing.

But Sarah's image of a romantic villain was especially dangerous in its form and especially alluring in its danger – it was awfully close in both the physical and the mental state to the form he usually took, i.e. when he was not role-playing. It was so comfortable to him that oftentimes it was hard even for him to tell which feelings were his and which were his role's…Thus, tricked by his own image, he let her win, completely convinced that he was in love with her. It felt so real, it was almost an addiction – like his owl alter ego – it was another form to be in, another thing to do in the myriad of boring mindless years of his eternal life.

At times, this need to be her romantic villain would be so powerful, so strong, that his emotions that were not really his took over and he was in agony at having lost her. At other times, the cold logic would interlude and remember the set goal – power and seduction. Or, rather – power through seduction. A favorite dish. The trouble was that every time Jareth got close to achieving step#1 of this goal, he would give in to her image and live by her rules, loving her hopelessly and ardently. And vice versa.

And then again. And again. Until he could no longer bear it.

That was how she won, and he had not forgotten it. He needed this, needed to be cold and logical and cruel, because by ruling her, he would finally be content: power, social status, revenge and the choice of alter egos would be his forever.

()It must be noted, that when fae's assume "roles" or images that have been created over centuries by the population of earth, they enter it only in part, keeping part of themselves out. It is always the choice of either taking the plunge and relying on mental ties or playing it safe and staying out of the game. Jareth was a definite risk taker. He knew he could stay afloat in the current of images and emotions that his objects of interest inundated him with. He would take the form they chose for him and live the role – at the time believing everything he said and felt, regardless of whether his actual self agreed, disagreed, or cared.