Author's Note: This is the last chapter. Much thanks to all the reviewers and readers for their support. It's been appreciated and I only hope this story has been as enjoyable to read as it was to write.

Author's Note 2: This chapter is very long, but you'll soon see why.

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"That's the new Castle?" Sarah asked incredulously.

Hoggle tugged at her sleeve. "We shouldn't be here," he gulped, "We shouldn't."

"That's not the Castle," she said, ignoring him altogether, "It's… different."

"Sarah…"

"What?" She tore herself away from the vision of white marble and refocused on the dwarf hopping on one foot next to her. "Hoggle, are you okay? You look scared."

"I am scared."

"Why?"

"The Undergrounders," he said, "They ate the goblins."

"What? How can they eat people?"

"The goblins are all gone," Hoggle insisted, jumping again, "We've gots to get out of here."

"I'm not going anywhere," Sarah declared, affronted by the very idea. "This is my land. I'm not running from anything! What'd those monsters go and do now?"

"Ssh! They'll hear you."

"Let them hear." Sarah was dangerously close to scoffing. She lifted her hands and carefully took the gloves from them. To her delight, the fingertips were sensitive and tender, almost swelling as the air sucked gently against each of them in turn. "I can handle them."

She forgot to watch Hoggle's face for the shock. It simply didn't occur to her. She hadn't stepped into her mirror with any idea of meeting people. She had gone there with the sole purpose of surveying the power that pulled at her dreams through long nights of restless twisting in the sheets. Now that she was there, all she wanted was this sense of power. Blissful, suffocating, intoxicating power. It warmed and chilled and thrilled with every passing second until she felt it throb to be let out again.

"I can take them," she said softer, smiling slowly to herself because finally she understood what she had been attempting to grasp since the day she had left to go back home.

She urged herself and a flower bloomed in her cupped hands. Chuckling she let it fall to the ground. It landed on the earth and the stalk took root, springing up to hoist the flower back to eyelevel.

Sarah reached out to touch it. The petals were rough and the edges hard. Something was wrong with her creation. It didn't bother her overmuch.

She stepped around it, trapped in a blue haze of question. The Castle looked higher and whiter. She could see the banners on the towers, the dark green shield with its red diamond. The doors were glinting bronze in the sun and the gleam was upsetting to her eyes, even from this distance. Sarah paused in mid-stride, taking it in thoughtfully.

It was hers. She could see her name in every block, every curve, every line. She took the step towards it and it felt like going home.

"Mine."

Sarah tried the word, testing it on her tongue. It didn't sound awkward.

"My Castle."

Something caught in her mind but she pushed it away impatiently. Now was not the time for intrusions. Sarah was caught up in the awe of the situation. Nothing like this would ever happen for her again, she was sure, and she meant to make the best of it. She had that task for herself.

The thorn didn't recede altogether. She kept catching herself up on it.

"Not quite my Castle." She looked at it again. "He said restored. Not created. He corrected himself, remember? Restored."

How could the Castle be restored? She could see nothing of the old Castle left in this bright new vision.

Hoggle watched her go, confused but too frightened to proceed further. He didn't understand it. The girl walking away was Sarah. He knew it. He had seen her face and heard her voice. But she was not acting as she should and he didn't know how to treat this new girl. This Sarah did not seem to want him.

He let her go, standing on his side of the gates.

Heart in his mouth he watched as she walked straight through them, as though she couldn't see them herself. And yet there they were, shimmering and glittering with threads of molten gold.

Strange, he thought it, for the old crumbling Castle to be surrounded by such a beautiful new gate.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his arm. He whipped around and almost fell back in fright.

Jareth pressed a hand to his mouth and didn't take his eyes from the slender figure walking away from him.

Hoggle watched the Goblin King watch Sarah. Time didn't seem to exist any more. He was almost overjoyed when the vampire finally stood, looking down at him with his strange eyes.

"Is she happy?" Jareth asked seriously.

Hoggle gulped and took a large step back. "Yeah," he tried.

"She has a good life on Earth?"

Sarah hadn't said. "Yeah," Hoggle continued, hoping it was what Jareth needed to hear.

"She came back to see the Castle, didn't she?" This time Jareth didn't wait for an answer. His eyes lifted and he glared distastefully at the gaudy spectacle. "Hideous. Truly hideous."

Hoggle could see nothing new though he turned his head and strained his eyes.

Jareth must have known because he laughed softly, shaking his head as if to enjoy his secret. "You can't see it, can you, Hoggle? She hasn't let you share in her vision. Only the gates, I suppose, to keep you out."

"I don't understand," Hoggle confessed. He could leave, he told himself, but there was nowhere for him to go. He'd taken to living near the gates of the Castle because there was no other sign of life. He couldn't risk living in the Goblin City, even though none of the vampires had as yet threatened him.

Jareth spun a crystal and held it out. "Look inside."

Hoggle didn't drop this gift from the white hands. "What is it?"

"A crystal, Heggle. Nothing more. It shows you what she has done."

Hoggle wouldn't believe it. That white Castle with the colours? It didn't belong in this land. Not in the Underground as it was. And where was the gate with the threads of gold? There was nothing around the Castle in the crystal. Not even the Goblin City. Where had that gone?

He looked up and wished he hadn't.

"Our little Sarah is learning," Jareth commented affectionately, "Her new home."

"Her home?"

Jareth looked down.

Hoggle imagined it was pity crossing the puckish features.

"You'll see," the Goblin King told him, softly as though to preserve some kind of quiet. And then he disappeared, fading slowly against the landscape.

Hoggle gave up.

Jareth, thankfully, didn't. He apparated into Sarah's throne room. He called it so in his head. He classified most things on an 'us versus them' basis. The only person to set herself up as neither was Sarah. And he duly noted it. So he apparated into Sarah's throne room and found her sitting on an elaborately formed throne.

"Glass?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow, "Or crystal?"

"Glass." Sarah smiled distantly and didn't stand up. "I felt you coming."

"You let me in," Jareth acknowledged, "Do you like what you see?"

Green eyes blinked at him and for just a second he saw Sarah's old uncertainty stain her cheeks. She gave a slight shake of her head, as though to dislodge a thought, and smiled slightly. "Do you like it?"

"I don't. But it isn't for me, is it?"

Sarah frowned slightly. "What's wrong with it?" she demanded.

"Pretentious," Jareth answered bluntly, "Too many frills and not enough planning."

"Well, I like it."

He smirked at her, settling his hands comfortably behind his back. "You should. You restored it."

That word again. "What do you mean- restored? Didn't I create it?" Sarah asked, anxious for some reason that she couldn't fathom.

"Perhaps. I don't know. It isn't in my power to tell you."

"Then why use the word restore."

He watched her for a moment, blinking lazily like a cat as he weighed his answer in his head. "I see a lot of my own Castle in your… monstrosity."

She laughed, rising finally and mimicking his stance, walking towards him with a grin on her face and her eyes glowing. "My monstrosity? You can't afford to talk! That old stone thing was terrible- cold, and draughty, and completely inappropriate. I bet half the rooms weren't even furnished."

"I saw no reason to provide furnishings."

"Well, my Castle is going to be furnished," she said firmly, "I'm going to have beds and dressing tables and closets. I'm going to have sitting rooms and reading rooms. I'm going to get a library and the kitchen's going to be enormous. There'll be a breakfast room and a formal dining room and a hall for receiving visitors. That's what I'm going to have."

"Now, I," Jareth threw in smoothly, "Saw no reason for empty bedrooms. Most of my vampires cannot read and none of the goblins remember how. As for kitchens… we waited on ourselves." He smirked at her expression. "That surprises you."

"I thought you'd have servants. Goblins, at least."

"Sarah, you saw the goblins. Could you see any purpose for them?"

She thought about it. "No."

Jareth made his point with a small flourish of his fingertips.

"Is that why you killed them?"

He paused, thrown off guard for a moment. His face must have registered his enquiry because Sarah gestured to the arched doorway behind him.

"Hoggle mentioned it," she said.

"I see. Well, they weren't killed. They were eaten."

"Eaten?"

"Yes. Blood. We still need blood."

"You killed innocent people because you wanted to live." Sarah grimaced and turned away. "Someone should just kill you for the good of the world."

"Much as you hate to believe this, Sarah, I am not your enemy," he snapped, "There are far worse than I."

"Vampires shouldn't exist."

"Vampires do. Asking why is a waste of my time."

"Oh? And you've got something else to do?" she spat, tossing a defiant glare over her shoulder, "Well, go ahead. I'm not keeping you."

"I rather think you are," he retorted.

She snorted and waved a hand. "Don't flatter yourself. My magic has better uses." Her magic. It felt good to say it. Empowering. It made her smile and think of Karen. Poor Karen, still trying hard to find some way to connect with her teenaged step-daughter. Poor, foolish Karen.

Jareth sighed and shook his head. The look upon the girl's face was nauseating. She was gloating, her ego slipping its bounds and dancing wildly around her slender shoulders. What for? Jareth had honed his magic for years before attempting to do what she was doing. He could feel the mistakes she was making.

So he raised his hands and let her see him test her magic openly. The gloved hands shot sparks and Sarah gasped and stumbled over her own feet.

"Ow," she said plaintively.

"Yes, that does hurt," he said musingly.

"What did you do to me?"

"I tried to break your barriers around this place. Unfortunately, just as you let no one in, you let no one out. I'm forced to take a seat and wait."

"Oh." She looked at her hands and the fingertips were pink and tingling. "It hurt."

"Of course. I already knew I was trapped here. I simply thought I should try a little harder. Breaking one's hold on this place can be… shall we say unpleasant?"

"It hurt. That's not unpleasant, that's pain."

He only smirked and folded his arms.

Sarah followed along her train of thought. "Is that what it felt like, when…. You know."

"No."

"Jareth, you know what I mean."

His smirk widened. "Indulge me," he shot back.

A challenge. Sarah was stung at the accusation in his voice, the glib satisfaction of knowing she never liked felt comfortable talking about this. "Alright. Is this what it felt like when I broke your reality?"

Jareth was impassive as rock. He had to be. He wanted to hit her for the sly sadism in those green eyes. Darker, weren't they? Much darker. Like green glass. Like the throne she sat upon. Those eyes were no longer human. And her voice as she spoke of his defeat made no secret of her enjoyment in his downfall.

It made him angry, and cold, and loath to temper his already vengeful pride in deference to Sarah. He moved towards her, crowding into her space, his face lowered to hers so his low murmurs could be better heard- "You cannot even imagine the pain I went through with those six careless words."

Her pupils were dilating. Evidently vampires were still a source of fear.

And Jareth was no longer controlling his mask. There was little need to, and less power to. Feeding on goblins for over a year had done nothing more than slake his thirst. He had no more beauty to draw upon; his human essence was waning. His eyes rarely lost the flames that lived within them and his fangs were not so easy to disguise.

Sarah drew back.

He matched her pace for pace, his longer legs easily consuming the slight distances between them. "Was that all, Sarah?"

She took a deep breath. "You can't order me around any more," she decided, "If I have power over you."

He curled his upper lip in a snarling grin and his hands were on her shoulders, claws extended to press hungrily against young flesh. "Do you?" he whispered, "Answer me. Do you have power over me?"

"No." Whether she meant to answer him or ward him off, Sarah couldn't say. Her head was swimming and her shock-icy hands refused to touch the vampire, refused to rise up and push him away. She twisted her face away knowing it would only draw his attention to her neck.

"Do you mean it? I could rip your throat out before you nod your head." He lowered his mouth a breath from her neck. He could almost smell the blood. Her fear, certainly. Even a slight trace of 'intrigue'? Yes, certainly, all of those and more. But the blood was calling to him. Memories of warmth and ecstatic fulfillment, youth and beauty and power flinging itself into his face and easily finding a place in his veins.

Sarah took a deep breath and vanished.

Jareth didn't chase her. He straightened and smiled lazily when she reappeared on her green glass throne, shaking and pale, eyes bright with adrenaline.

She raised a hand but he summoned a crystal, balancing it on the tips of his fingers.

"Wait," he warned.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just kill you," Sarah grit out.

"Your will is as strong as mine," Jareth echoed, "Your kingdom as great. Your words, Sarah."

"Yeah, so?"

"Sarah, have you learned nothing?"

She raised her hand higher.

Jareth smashed the crystal and there was a fire blazing between them. "I still have my power," he said.

Sarah felt cold.

"My power, Sarah. Equal to yours because you demanded it. My will is as strong and my kingdom as great."

"You're lying."

"I could bring this Castle down around us as we speak."

"You can't."

He raised an eyebrow and walked around the fire. Standing off to the side and half-closing his eyes. Taking the power that still resided in him and twisting it around to do his bidding.

The Castle began to shake to its very foundations.

To her credit, Sarah never made a sound. She clutched tight at the twisting arms of her throne. Her face was pale and her knuckles were white where they gripped the cool glass. "Alright, enough," she ordered.

Jareth stopped. "The advantage of the undead," he laughed, "I never get breathless."

"What do you want?"

"I want the Underground," he said implacably, "That alone is yours. My position in the Underground is only subject to you. Give me leave to stay."

Sarah was taken-aback. She hadn't thought of that. It had never occurred to her that Jareth and his Family would have to leave. "That's it?"

"No. Give me back my land."

"You can have it," she cried, finally giving way. She jumped down from her throne and as she walked away it disintegrated. "You can have the whole damned thing. I don't want it!"

Jareth caught her by the arms. "It doesn't work like that," he hissed, "Stupid, stupid. Feel the land; taste it. How can you give back what you can't control?"

Sarah kicked him. Hard. Hard enough that she felt her toes ache. Hard enough that he let go of her instantly with an unseemly yelp. "Don't ever," she seethed, "Touch me again."

"All I ask," he said slowly, rising from a careful check on the bone of his shin, "Is what I am owed. You have no need for the Underground. I do. You don't want it. I do. Give it to me and we can go our separate ways."

"I wish I could give it back," she said, "But until I understand what's going on, that's all I can say."

"I can guide you."

"It won't work."

Jareth sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair. "Mortals," he mourned, "Always more trouble than they're worth."

"Vampires," she retorted, "Are just as bad."

Jareth chuckled; still angry but dismissing the emotion as fruitless. It did no good to be angry in such a situation. Much as it frustrated him, he could get nothing more from Sarah. Threatening her any further wouldn't work.

He wandered away to the window and breathed in the cool air, assessing the changes that he could feel on the breeze. The shift in the land that heralded a new touch, a new mind.

Sarah stared at him contemplatively from behind, sliding her eyes over the plum leather coat and grey breeches, over the muddy boots and the wispy falls of blond hair on his shoulders. She remembered tracing the lean, lithe, muscle-and-bone stretch and pull of his body. She remembered the smell on the pillows and furs she had been forced to share with him. She even remembered the feel of his fingers as he courteously returned her home.

He was a vampire.

He seemed human enough when he had fed on human blood.

He was still a vampire.

He turned and caught her eye, lips curling in that annoying little smirk of his. Sarah smiled back unwillingly. He was a vampire but perhaps there was a way she could get out of this.

"You know," she remarked, "We don't actually have to exchange anything."

"Really." He turned fully, favouring her with his full attention.

"Really," she mimicked, smiling her own seemingly innocent grin, "Since I don't want the Underground, you can have it. Since I can't give it to you, how about you take it?"

For the first time that she could remember, Jareth looked genuinely surprised.

"Oh, don't look so shocked," she laughed, "It's simple. We can make a deal. I just need to know I can trust you."

"Trust me." He repeated it as though he was having trouble understanding her simplicity. "What deal would this be?"

"Relax. It'll work out. First, though, I need your promise that you'll never come near me again when the Underground is yours." She was firm on this point. She didn't want the Underground. Even less did she want Jareth. She wanted her old life Aboveground, free and uncomplicated in comparison with this. She wanted to spend time with Toby and little Lillian. She wanted to go out with her friends and not wonder if the owl on the tree was spying on her.

Jareth never made any kind of promise without fully understanding the implications. It wasn't in his nature. But this… this was the Underground. And faced with the choice of this corrupted version of Sarah on the one hand, and his beloved land on the other, Jareth could only close his eyes and jump.

"I give you my word," he promised.

He had his Family to think about. They would starve. They were already relying on him to take them Aboveground for the latest feeds. They would never ask. They would starve if he neglected them. Those were the rules. They served him faithfully, and he kept them alive. The Underground was the only place of safety left for him. He needed control to set his Labyrinth back up. Anything Sarah proposed, he had to consider.

"Good," Sarah exulted, "You won't kill me or any member of my family. In fact, you'll never come near my town and my family again."

His jaw tightened. "What is this for?"

"Precautions. Promise me."

"Tell me the plan first."

She eyed him up and down but relented. "Since we have the same power, the only thing that really gives me the edge is the Underground. I own it; you don't. Right?"

"We know this, yes."

"Bear with me, please. Look, this whole thing started because I said you had no power over me."

Jareth's jaw seemed to tighten momentarily. "Yes." His voice was strained.

"Did that hurt?" Sarah asked in concern.

"The memory is not pleasant," he evaded, "Go on."

"So I was thinking," Sarah bit her lip and framed the sentence properly in her mind, "What if you did have power over me?"

Jareth was convinced she was mad. He said so.

She shook her head and held up a hand as though to keep him listening to her. "No, really. If you, as a vampire, can have power over me, as a person, then you have power. Right? So if you have power over me, you can break my reality and get back yours. See?"

"No."

"No?" Sarah clapped a hand to her head. "You've driven me round in circles for this damned thing and now I've come up with a simple plan you say no?"

"No," Jareth said simply, "It will hurt you. Chances are, you won't survive that."

Sarah visibly deflated. "Oh." She stared at the floor and absent-mindedly created two chairs. "Want to sit?"

"Thank you. I'll stand."

She shrugged and sat down in one of the chairs, tapping a finger against her knee to try to drum up an answer.

Jareth had a plan forming. He let it build slowly, watching Sarah's hands and Sarah's face. "The only other way," he said finally, "Is if I don't break your reality, but rather temper it with mine."

"How do you mean?"

He moved closer, his eyes narrowing as he carefully tested the air. "You are not… uninterested in me," he noted delicately.

"What?" She got up with a shake of her head and folded her arms.

He began to smile again. "Lyndon often remarked it when you were last here."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sarah declared, her heart thudding louder in her chest. She had no interest in vampires. She despised them. She despised Jareth specifically.

"Little girls like you always play with fire. Sharp objects, too."

Sarah gaped from lack of anything productive to say or do. Jareth's voice had dropped to a laughing monologue. Yet, all the while he was advancing on her. Sarah began to back away slowly, holding his gaze in terrified fascination.

"No, not so uninterested. What do you say, Sarah? Mutual ownership? If danger is what you want, a vampire should suit you." He laughed softly and reached her, hand extended to touch her cheek.

Sarah jumped backwards. "If you touch me, I'll do something horrible," she threatened, "Don't even dare! I'm not interested. I hate you. You're a monster and you killed little children! I don't want anything to do with you!"

"Come now, Sarah. Monster?" He snatched her up and spun her around, his hands tight on her upper arms, pulling her closer. "Is that all you have?"

"Believe me, I'm just getting started." She wrenched herself away and brushed her hair off her face. "Get out of my Castle."

"No."

"Get out!"

He softened abruptly, tilting his head and folding his arms. The look on his face was almost… affectionate. "Sarah," was all he said.

Sarah wouldn't back down. But she didn't push him out the window like she wanted.

Hours later, Lyndon looked up as Jareth dropped into a seat at the table beside him. The other vampire was thin and gaunt, as were most of those in the caves.

"Was it the girl?" His hoarse voice rasped out of a dry mouth. "What happened?"

Jareth didn't answer. He only lifted the book upon the table and turned the delicate leafs with a slender forefinger.

"You drank from her," Lyndon observed.

The other vampires were drawing near and Jareth lifted his head to gaze intently at them before glancing across to his oldest friend. "You can smell the blood?"

"All of us can." Lyndon was a silent, stoic creature. He laughed with his eyes though his mouth never smiled. "All of them can smell it."

Jareth looked at his vampires again. "They're starving," he commented out loud.

"They are."

He nodded and then leaned back in his seat, snapping the book shut. "I did drink, yes."

Lyndon nodded. Without shifting his head, he barked an order. The others vanished, leaving instantly, obediently, as was their wont. He waited until they were out of earshot before licking his lips and blinking his dry eyes. "You had refused to turn her."

"And I didn't," Jareth replied calmly, "She went back to the Aboveground."

"You took the Underground back?"

Jareth smiled to himself and thought of Sarah's face when he had punctured her skin with his teeth. He had sunk into her arm, eyes fixed intently on her face to make sure that nothing went wrong. "We came to an understanding."

He would say nothing more until a week later. Then, he only disappeared Aboveground, leaving his vampires in a large city in South America while he hunted down his own prey. They were lost in a feeding frenzy. Jareth returned for them in three days. Lyndon sniffed delicately and made no comment on the smell of Sarah's blood.

The Labyrinth, so long destroyed, was already rebuilding itself when they returned to the Underground.

"Human women will age," was all Lyndon had to say.

"All humans age," Jareth allowed.

"You should turn her," Lyndon advised.

Those strange eyes flicked to the side and then flicked away again, clearly amused by the thought. "My friend, if I turn her, she wouldn't be who she is. And who she is… I would never ask her to change."

"She will change."

"Then she will change in her own way," he decided.

The matter ended there.