Ludo and Hoggle were busy when Sarah was away. As far as Sarah could see, the ground looked like it had been through an upheaval. And, she supposed, it had. Before she and Jareth left her apartment, she'd filled the bad she grabbed with seeds and made him carry the bags of grass seed she couldn't. He didn't look too happy to be doing it, but he didn't put up too much of a fight, either.

"Wow," Sarah said, feeling her shoes sink into the ground the slightest bit. "Thank you Ludo, Hoggle! I can't believe how much it's changed!" And it had; the piles of rock that marked where manmade structures once were had disappeared, presumably into the ground. The pit that opened where the underground necropolis existed had somehow been filled in. The land was mostly flat to her right, but to her left she could see gentle hills forming. For as far as she could see, the bright blue of the sky met rich brown earth.

"Well," Sarah said, patting the bag at her side, "I suppose it's time to spread these."

But Muck was already beside her, tugging the bag's strap from her shoulder. The bag landed on the ground with a muffled thump, and Muck made a sharp whistling noise.

Goblins—some so caked in dirt and debris that they were almost unrecognizable—seemed to materialize out of the very air. Sarah jumped in surprise, and Jareth made a strangled noise beside her. Evidently, Didymus had done his job well; there was quite a lot of them.

With the way everything else had changed because of what she now knew was Berwyn's influence, Sarah was a little surprised to see that aside from being extra grimy, the goblins looked relatively untouched. But before anything else, Jareth had been a god of the forest. The destroyed murals somewhere under her feet had once attested to that. Goblins, she supposed, belonged in a forest as much as they belonged anywhere else; it was simply serendipity that made them adaptable to life in a city.

Jareth's thoughts were not on the adaptability of his goblins, but their hardiness. How was it, he wondered, that they were fine—disgustingly filthy, even for them, but fine—while he himself had been laid out by the darkness? It was bad enough that despite his attempts, Sarah was the one to save them all. He had no doubt that she would hang it over his head, as he would hers. But to have his goblins bounce back when he had not was simply mortifying.

As if sensing where his thoughts were going, Sarah elbowed him; she had neither the time nor the patience for his wounded pride. She's hoped to but that behind them; he'd had only a little contact with the outside world, but she thought it was past time for him to put his chauvinistic ideals to rest.

Down somewhere around Sarah's knees, Muck was sifting through the bag. The seeds fell between the fingers on her little furred hands and she mixed them together.

"We accepts your gifts," she announced. Sarah, who had been more concerned with keeping another mope-fueled glitter storm from occurring, blinked down at Muck.

"Oh," said Sarah, who hadn't really thought of the seeds as gifts, "that's good."

All at once, and with an immediacy that almost made Sarah think they had practices beforehand, the goblins descended upon the bag. Sarah jumped back, just in case. Goblin after goblin took handfuls of seeds until the bag was completely empty. They disappeared almost as quickly as they'd been summoned by Muck, leaving Sarah to gape at Jareth.

Hoggle and Ludo did not take part in the frantic seed grabbing. Ludo had never been too fast, and his talents rested firmly in the earth, not growing things. Hoggle, meanwhile, had forgotten what it meant to be a part of a group. Flowers weren't exactly his forte either.

"Chaos is in their nature," Jareth said by way of explanation. It wasn't much of one; Sarah still didn't know what their nature was.

"They were never meant to live in a castle, of all things. They are most likely excited to get back to their roots."

Sarah narrowed her eyes to a squint. "Was that a pun? Because it was a really bad one." At her feet, the seeds that were dropped were already sprouting. The goblins, she reminded herself, were magical creatures just like their king. Making seeds take root and sprout almost instantly was certainly a form of magic, though it felt thick and heavy in the air and coated her tongue with something that tasted like sunshine.

The fact that she could now taste magic only bothered Sarah a little.

But the goblin magic seemed to only be able to take the new plant life so far. One of two of the nearer goblins turned to look at Sarah, as if waiting for something. Even Hoggle waited expectantly. Sarah wasn't sure what to do, and didn't like the feeling of floundering.

Jareth cleared his throat and stepped forward, and Sarah realized the goblins weren't looking at her at all. Of course they weren't—Sarah wasn't the one who was an ex god. She felt silly, and her face heated in a momentary blush.

Jareth wasn't really once for speeches, unless he could intimidate teenage girls with them. Besides, the goblins wouldn't appreciate them anyway; they weren't the sort for listening to speeches. Instead, he raised his hands with an intricate flourish, she Sarah a smirk, and snapped his fingers.

The little sproutlings exploded with growth all around them. The magic that Sarah tasted intensified, flooding all of her senses. This time, however, it tasted like clear water and shadows, and the scent of both filled her nose. She could even hear everything growing, but not because she gained any special hearing. Rushing something that would naturally take months—or even years—along in a few minutes was bound to be loud, no matter what it was. And the noise of grass and flowers shooting up at breakneck speed was almost deafening.

Sarah barely had time to react. By the time she could process what was happening, the grass was already up past her ankles. It shot up even further, eventually bowing under its own weight, darkening from a bright spring green to one that spoke of a false age.

The flowers were even stranger to watch. They shot up just as quickly, leaved unfurling and thickening as they grew and aged at an unnatural rate. Stems and bases thickened and swelled as flower buds formed and then exploded in a burst of petals. The goblins screeched and cheered even as the grass grew over them and up almost to Sarah's waist.

"Woah," was all that Sarah could say. She knew—had known, for a while—that magic existed. She knew that goblins existed and that wishes had power. Gods existed, and she was the current wielder of a long, long line of familial power. But watching a world turn from a dead thing to something bursting with life was not something she had prepared herself for.

What she expected to take several weeks, at least, had only taken minutes. Though there weren't any trees, the world otherwise didn't look like the darkness had touched it at all. She had plans to bring trees back in, eventually, but that would take time. There was nothing for her to do in the meantime.

With another extravagant flutter of his hands, barrels and barrels of what smelled suspiciously like beer appeared. Sarah thought that maybe she wouldn't have to bring trees back at all, not if he could simply materialize things already.

There was almost a sense of completion to the whole thing, as if the powers that be had wrapped the whole ordeal up and tied it off with a bow. Almost. It seemed that the ending of a thing was marked with a party in Jareth's world, and Sarah couldn't figure out if she thought that was very forest god od him or not. God? Yes, they seemed to enjoy decadence.

Forest? …Not so much.

Regardless, this wasn't one that she necessarily felt entitled to. They were celebrating the return of things as they were, and she hadn't really been a part of that before. She watched as J swept into the crowd, looking every part the king he had become. The goblins crowded around him as he made his way over to the casks; a few of them be booted away good-naturedly. He had never been, and probably never would be, overly kind or coddling to the creatures he called his own, but they didn't seem to mind.

Sarah was left standing alone in the overgrown field, watching all of the activity. Ludo lumbered back into view and Didymus, as if called, by the drink, appeared on Ambrosius as well.

Convenient, Sarah kept thinking. It is all very… convenient. But maybe that was just how the end of an adventure was meant to be; she had some experience with adventures, but not enough to allow herself a definitive answer. She caught Didymus's eye and motioned that he should follow her over to where Ludo and Hoggle had moved together.

It felt almost like all those years hadn't passes when they were all together. Everybody but her seemed unchanged, almost frozen in time.

"Hi," she said, not knowing how else to start.

"Yer leavin' again, ain't ya?" Hoggle asked abruptly. Sarah's face crumpled as she tried to push away her guilt.

"For a bit," she answered. "Not for forever, I think. But," she grabbed Hoggle's shoulders as she crouched down, grass almost obscuring her. "I need all of you to know that you don't need to wait for me to need you. Or call you. You can come to see me any time, if that's what you want."

"Of course, my lady," Didymus said over Hoggle's huff. Ludo was silent. She paused, considering her next words carefully.

"Hoggle, do you remember when you told me I'd never get out of the labyrinth, even if I made it to the center?" She waited for him to nod. "You were right. I don't think I ever did."

She stood, depositing a kiss on each of their cheeks, and walked away. There was one more temporary goodbye she needed to give, but she didn't want to have to fight for attention. But when she looked towards the goblins crowing around the barrels, Jareth was nowhere to be seen.

"Looking for something?"

Sarah jumped and whirled around to find Jareth there.

"I was looking to say goodbye, not have a heart attack," she told him teasingly.

"Goodbye?" he echoed. "You wouldn't have to leave this time. This is your world as much as it is mine." Something flashed behind his eyes and she wondered if he, too, was thinking of the last time he tried to convince her to stay.

Just fear me, love me… Well, she might have one of those down, to a degree.

"You're not… done with it, are you?" For the first time, she thought she might have heard the ghost of insecurity in his voice. She shook her head, smiling.

"No, I don't think so. Besides that… I don't think it's done with me. But I am going home. To my apartment," she clarified before he could twist her words. "They don't need me here, and I have a life to live elsewhere.

"You wouldn't have to," he murmured, gently pushing some hair out of her face.

"I do," she said firmly. "But…" she paused, and an odd expression flitted over her face. Before she could talk herself out of it, she rose up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. "Whatever the future holds, we have forever to figure it out."

With another small smile at the expression on his face—equal parts stunned and contented—Sarah squeezed his hand.

And then she wished herself home.

A/N

So. Here it is. The final chapter.

If you are deeply unsatisfied with the ending, please recall that this story is called Fairytale, Refuted. And if you're still unhappy, please know that this is not really the end. That's right! There's a sequel in the works. The very early stages of works, as it is, so I'm not sure when I will be able to start actually writing it in earnest or when I might have an opportunity to post it. This upcoming semester promises to be challenging for me, and I ask for everybody to please have patience if you're sticking around.

The current working title for the sequel is Fate, Unwound. That might change, but I'm pretty happy with it at the moment. Keep an eye out! And as always, if you have any questions-not about the details of the plot of the next one, of course ;p-feel free to send me a message! There are a few things I am willing to reveal, if asked, but I won't be giving a blow-by-blow account of it before it's even written.