DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film (I just like to make them suffer). They are the property of the Jim Henson Company. I do own Stewart.

AN: This is the last chapter, and my favourite chapter…I muddled through the others just to get to this one. Enjoy.

Sarah looked at the pages of the little red book clamped delicately in her hands. She was dressed in her favourite dress; she was a wronged princess in another realm. Sarah smiled, and read the lines with all the dramatic flair she could muster.

"I have fought my way here, to the castle beyond the goblin city, to take back the child that you have stolen," she said, sweeping her arm theatrically. A shaggy sheep dog barked at her, her only audience.

"You're right, Merlin, we should go," she sighed.

She looked around the park, something seemed amiss. She searched for the owl that so often joined Merlin, another faithful patron. Her brow furrowed as she wondered at its absence.

"I hope nothing has happened to your friend, Merlin," she said softly. Merlin barked happily at her, and ran to join her. Sarah turned and walked towards the bridge leisurely. A soft smile played on her lips, as she felt that it would be so good to go home. She expected to get a good rest in; her day was done, her play was over, she was ready for bed. She was halfway across the bridge, softly humming a song that sounded vaguely familiar to her, when she'd noticed him.

"Toby," she called with a gentle smile and a lilting laugh. Tears were streaming down the boy's face. Sarah frowned lightly.

"What's wrong, Toby?"

Toby stared at her in disbelief. "What are you doing here, Sarah? What are you doing?"

Sarah was taken aback, Toby certainly wasn't unaccustomed to her daily performances, was he?

"Whatever can you mean, Toby? I'm practicing! Someday I'll be a great actress!" she said, smiling widely, hoping to ease her troubled brother into a smile.

He did not smile. In fact, more tears fell down his face. Sarah was confused.

"You already are a great actress, Sarah!" Toby wailed. "You haven't practiced in the park for years and years!"

Sarah's puzzled expression infuriated the boy.

"Get up, Sarah! You have to get up! He needs you!"

Sarah only shook her head, baffled by her brother.

"What?" she asked, dazed.

"My dream, Sarah," Toby said with meaning. "The princess! The princess is you!"

Sarah's eyes widened, as though she were remembering something that had locked itself away in her mind.

"Princess?" she said breathlessly.

"Yes!" Toby shouted through his tears. He pushed her. "Get up! Get up! Get up!"

Sarah stood. There was something important for her to do, she couldn't rest yet. Not yet.

Toby watched her, sobs hiccupping in his throat.

"If you don't hurry, you're not going to make it!" Toby cried.

Sarah looked down at his anguished face, still dazed.

"HE'LL DIE, SARAH!"

It had been enough, she'd disappeared before Toby's eyes and he'd awoken on her bed. He smiled as tears streamed down his face, knowing that he'd saved his sister from death.

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The world came spinning back to her, and she shot up from the ground with a sharp gasp. Her body was cold, and indescribably sore. Her breaths were strong, and the beat of heart was slow. Her vision was blurred and she was incredibly dizzy. Sarah tried to look down at herself, only seeing that she clothed in white.

Her sore body only moved because of the dark power coursing through her. Everything became unnaturally clear to her. Her ears heard the sounds of magic crackling, a sound that was not audible to humans; her nose smelt the smells of two men: a dark scent of a man consumed by hatred, a stench not easily recognized until it was too late, and Sarah realized now that it was too late, or it had been anyway, for her; and then a lighter smell, the other man. Jareth. He smelled of moondust and fairy magic, she should not have been able to recognize the scents, and yet she did with perfect clarity. As she breathed in through her mouth, she tasted the acrid, acidity of dark magic, and the sweetness of light magic. She felt the ground beneath her fingertips, cold and hard, but also constantly moving, rustling with a life that no human could have ever felt. Finally, her eyesight cleared. She saw colours she had never known to exist.

Sarah turned her head to see that Stewart had forced Jareth to his knees. She could feel that Jareth was about to give up, and give in to death. She could feel his anguish just by looking at him, he believed her dead. She rose from her seat, the pain of her body ignored in a rush of magic. A deep wrath for the dark man erupted within her, and every unspoken anger she'd ever felt towards him exploded into her limbs, causing her to advance upon the battle with deadly intent.

What I wouldn't give for a sword, she mused. She felt it appear in her hand before she saw it. It's cool, heavy weight bringing a wave of comfort to her; she smirked when she saw it. It was everything a fencer could ask for: gleaming in its lethality, the blood groove perfectly carved in the blade, the broad hilt decorated with delicate engravings, and the tip pointed with a deadly precision. She couldn't have designed it better herself. It then occurred to her that she had, in fact, designed it herself. As she watched Jareth collapsing under the magic of his foe, and her fury escalated.

He moves the stars for no one.

She was upon Stewart before he'd even sensed her, the unrelenting point of the blade already through his back and exiting his chest. He looked upon her with unconcealed terror.

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Jareth had begun to accept his fate, laughing inwardly at the fact that at the beginning of this whole ordeal, he had planned to cheat fate. To have his Sarah back. Oh, he'd have her back, maybe, if he could find her in the underworld. Although with his luck, she'd already flitted away to heaven. He was simply becoming overwhelmed by Stewart's magic. He was being undone by a man with a petty revenge plan, while his beautiful, fragile Sarah lay lifeless on the floor of his throne room. He was willing to let go at this point, for if she was dead, what was the point?

He was on his knees now, bending to the whim of this foolish human boy, and he didn't care. He fought because it was in his nature to fight, he also fought so that Sarah's death was not in vain. She'd died for him. She'd tried to help in that infernal way she always did, she tried to see the good in a man so corrupted by dark magic that it was not possible to have any good left. He'd seen that realization in her eyes, her marvellous, sizzling eyes, seconds before her death. He closed his eyes in resignation, he could feel Stewart's magic pushing down upon him. It would not be long now. When he opened his eyes again, he saw her.

Sarah.

His mind was not able to comprehend it. She was dead. She was undeniably human, and absurdly fragile, and very dead. It was then that he realized the change. Something or someone had brought her back, that much was true, but it was the dark magic that she had pulled from Stewart that guided her now. Everything about her was exaggerated and more prominent than it had once been. Her soft, jade eyes were now a violent emerald green, shining with all the intensity she'd ever harboured throughout her short life. Her dark chocolate hair was now as black as pitch. Her supple, pink lips now a bright red. Her delicate, peachy skin was now as white as snow.

Jareth watched her impale Stewart with a sword produced by her imagination. He looked upon her in terror, and she was terrifying. Never before had Jareth seen a woman, fae or human, so breathtakingly terrible in their beauty. Everything about her was lethal, and to have a creature so horrifying dressed in a gown of such innocence seemed so ludicrous to him.

Sarah gripped Stewart's throat as he turned to face her and smiled widely with an unforgiving abhorrence. She was wrenching the dark magic from him, Jareth's gift still active within her. She watched him wither and grow old under her hand, her sword still thrust through him. He continued to wither, his anguished cries muffling as he began to fade away to nothing. In the end, Sarah held a fistful of dust in one hand, and a sword drenched in blood in the other.

The intensity in her eyes faded a bit, and she opened her palm shakily, allowing the dust to float away with the breeze. She stared at her palm for a moment, and then her gaze shifted to her other hand. She dropped the sword in horror, looking to Jareth for an explanation.

Jareth dragged himself from the ground. Watching her, he knew that the magic she had absorbed would destroy her, it would take her from him again. He had to do something quickly. He pressed his hands on either side of her face. The feel of her skin was indescribable, both boiling hot and freezing cold all at once. Magic drained slowly, too slowly, into his hands, and he knew what was required of him to save her.

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Sarah looked at her hands and realized that she had just killed Stewart. It didn't make sense to her, none of it made sense to her. She looked to Jareth for aid, unsure of what to do next, the dark magic was tearing through her and awakening every base desire she'd ever had. Just looking at him, kneeling on the ground in weakness, made her want to go to him and tear off his clothes, ravage and devour him. Mate then kill. It was tearing her to pieces.

Jareth pressed his hands to her face, finally rising from the ground. In doing so, Sarah felt a tiny relief, as though pressure was being released from inside her. It wasn't fast enough, she was still fighting the urge to take him down: conquer and destroy.

Jareth saw it in her eyes: base emotions, released by the magic and coming to the surface. Every animal had the instinct to kill and to mate. She'd killed and he could see what her primitive brain was trying to do to her. Unable to pull the magic from her with his hands, he lowered his head down and kissed her desperately, pulling the magic from her frantically, unwilling to lose her to it. Everything about the transaction was of primal desperation: hers of raw lust, his of ancient love.

When the magic was drained from her, he glanced to be sure that her colours had returned to normal, that her features were not plagued with an intensity that her mortal body could not handle. Jareth dropped swiftly to his knees forcing his hands to the ground to disperse the magic throughout his labyrinth, nullifying it and making it benign. He rested his weary head against her soft stomach and lost consciousness when he felt Sarah's warm hands tangle gently in his hair. She was safe.

Sarah stood for a moment, unsure of what had just transpired. She had died, and been brought back by her brother. She had been consumed by emotions so basic and raw that she hadn't known they'd existed within her. She'd killed a man in cold blood. She'd saved Jareth and his Labyrinth. Jareth had kissed her. She gathered his soft hair in her hands and tottered on her feet. She looked down on him, resting his head against her, and her vision blurred – she collapsed.

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Far on the outskirts of the Labyrinth, Hoggle was holding up his protective barrier over the citizens of the Underground. He'd seen it through the air, tiny magical particles giving him visions of what was happening. He'd watched a dark magic swirl in, overbearing and powerful; he'd seen Jareth's power, waning and light fighting against the dark; he'd seen a bright light snap to darkness abruptly, and then come back with intensity a hundred times its original; he'd felt a dark magic being dispersed throughout the Labyrinth in a way only Jareth was capable of performing; and, now, he saw nothing.

They all stood in the rain in silence. A slow goblin breaking the silence with one line:

"Did she save us?"

The other goblins shushed him, and he covered his mouth in shame.

Hoggle looked out over the Labyrinth. The rain had stopped, and he could see the sun rising in the horizon. He smiled.

"Yeah," he said, a joy filling him. "Yeah, I think she did."

AN: Although I am listing this story as complete, it isn't really true. The truth of the matter is that there will be a continuation to this story, under a different title, to be released at a later date. This is really only half of the story, just the beginning. As some of you may have noticed I left a number of things unexplained, they will be addressed in the continuation. The reason I will release it as a second story is that the genre is going to change: Inevitable Recrudescence is an adventure story; its continuation is a romance. For now, content yourselves that Jareth and Sarah are alive (although not well) and that Stewart (poor little heartless and sinister villain) is dead – so I suppose that means they're safe…or are they? Toodles for now. :P