Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, any of its characters, or Wynona Ryder.

A/N: WooHoo! I'm still here! I am absolutely flabbergasted at the response to this story. I'm actually enjoying the break from GSTK now, but I intend to wrap this up in the next chapter and be back to more serious endeavors shortly. I would love to give a shout out to everyone who has reviewed this, but there were just so many of them. I would like to say I am thrilled that I only received one negative review, and that was from some anonymous person calling herself Sarah. It was so laughable that I nearly cried. She insulted the intelligence of everyone who has ever put a song lyric in their story, and I mean that literally. Anyway, everyone else was very supportive, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I'm glad that so many of us feel the same. Anyway, here's chapter two. I hope you like it. Please review.


In the darkest shadows of the Lost Woods, deep within the lightless glades, a roaring bonfire burned brightly, sending cheery sparks into the starry sky. A group of playful, spindly creatures danced happily around the fire, intermittently removing limbs and tossing them back and forth to each other, before reconnecting them and continuing the dance. Occasionally they would all stop and raise their furry faces skyward, shouting with glee as the flames of the bonfire flared upward, brightening the glade further before dying back down. They continued this way for several minutes, their dancing music ringing into the night. It's discordant sounds were a clever match for the strangeness of the dancers, a fact not lost on any of them as they continued in their ritual of decadence and chaos.

As the music reached its crescendo, they opened their mouths in unison, intending to fill the night sky with the sounds of their jubilant voices. But as they tried to sing, the only sound to come from them was pitiful squeaks and petulant moans. Confused, the creatures looked to one another for answers, but there were no answers to be had. Again they tried, and once again they were unable to sing the song that had been sung by their ancestors since time beyond remembrance. The music died, and the Fierys were left to stare at one another, fear replacing their once joyful expressions.

Suddenly, they began to fall, their bodies weakening until they fell to the earth. The young ones were the first to feel the effects, as the children were always the first afflicted in any great catastrophe. The old ones were next, gasping as their life force was wrenched from their bodies by soulless fingers. Finally the adults, those in their prime, fell lifelessly to the ground. In a mass of fear and confusion and grief for those already lost they fell, until all was quiet in the Lost Woods, save the occasional crackle of the dwindling bonfire.


Jareth was in his study, the oaken doors closed and barricaded to keep out the constant barrage of frightened goblins. The epidemic of non-music was spreading, and his creatures were feeling its effects. Without the ever present music they had been accustomed to, life had become drab, and the color seemed literally to be draining from the world. Even he was feeling its effects, as a nameless depressing clung to him like a wet blanket.

Thus he had retired to his study, pouring over tomes, histories, prophesies, and even myths, searching for some clue as to the cause of the epidemic, and for possible ways to eliminate it. So far, the search had been fruitless, and the bone weary Goblin King slumped dejectedly into his chair, running his gloved fingers through his unruly hair. This was precisely the time he would have sang something sad, something mournful, if only he could sing.

Suddenly he heard a clamoring outside his door, and a muffled high pitch voice crying "Back! Back I say! Vile creatures, I must hold council with the King!" The Goblin King recognized the voice and knew that if its owner was here, and not guarding his post in the Bog, then truly the situation must be dire.

Jareth gave a flick of his wrist, removing the baracades at the door, and it swung open to reveal a very stern looking little dog wearing and eye patch and a kilt. "You have something to report, Sir Didymus?" Jareth asked, his voice much stronger than he was feeling at the moment.

"Your Majesty." Didymus began, giving a swift bow to his monarch. "I have come to report a great tradgedy in the Lost Woods."

The Goblin King stood upon hearing these words. "Tradgedy?" He asked, feeling his chest tighten with dread. "Do go on, Didymus."

When the little creature spoke again his voice was full of barely contained emotion. "It's the Fireys, Sire. They are all… dead."

Jareth paled. "Dead?" his voice was a whisper. "That is not possible."

"I did not believe it either, My Liege." Didymus said quietly. "So I went to see for myself. It appears they died together, during the Ritual of the Chilly Down."

"I see." The Goblin King stated, his face draining of much needed blood. "And do you know how they died?"

"I don not, Sire. There does not appear to have been a struggle, I believe they died quietly." Didymus answered, not noticing when his King winced at his words. Quetly? The word hit quite close to home. Too close to have been a coincidence.

"Thank you, Sir Didymus." The Goblin King told him. "I shall look into the matter. Oh, and Didymus?"

The small creature looked up at his king. "Yes, My Leige?"

"Do be careful. There is something….happening." Jareth said, an uncharacteristic glint of concern in his mismatched eyes. "I should hate to lose one of my bravest knights."

The little dog preened at the unexpected praise. "Is there anything I may do to be of service, Sire?" he asked.

Jareth sat down again. "Only to go about your business, but keep your ears and eyes open. And of course, your keen nose as well."

"Yes Sire, of course." Didymus answered proudly, and left the King to his musings.


Finally, a day off. Sarah rose from the bed feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. She had a whole day with no where to be and no deadlines to meet. There were no wardrobe fittings, no auditions, no script meetings, not even any award show she had to get ready for. She had absolutely nothing to do!

After twenty minutes of excitement she began to settle down. Ten minutes after that she slumped aimlessly in a chair, feeling utterly bored. She had nothing to do! She could go shopping, perhaps, but the last time she had tried had turned into an utter fiasco. She mentally reinforced her decision never to shop with Winona Ryder again. She thought she might write, but then remembered the new no music rule, and changed her mind. What was the point? She could write words until her fingers fell off but she could breath life into them without music.

Instead she opened up AOL, intending to check her email. As soon as she logged in she heard the chiming of an IM.

'Hey Girl.'

'Hey.' She answered, waiting for the inevitable question. Therefore she was surprised when she saw something different.

'I can't believe you did it.'

'Did what?' she asked, slightly put off by the tone she perceived to be in the question.

'You took out all of the music! How could you?' Amy asked her.

'I told you, I had to.' Sarah sent back. 'They would have deleted my account and all the stories would be gone.'

'Do you have any idea what you've done?' Amy asked her.

'Excuse me?'

'They can't live without the music! If you take away the music, everything in the Underground will die!' Amy chimed, the cheerful sound effect a stark contrast to the severity of the words they announced.

'What?' Sarah asked. 'How will they die just because I remove the song lyrics from my stories? And…wait a minute…' She actually typed the little dot dot dots after the words, and she didn't know why. 'How do you know about the Underground?'

She expected a typed reply to appear on her screen. She did not expect to hear a cultured accent speaking softly behind her, and she jumped when that was, in fact, what happened. "Because it's my home!" the voice said pleadingly. "And you're killing it!"

&((&(&()(()&((&()(&&)&()&

Earlier, in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City:

The Goblin King was furiously thumbing through books now, his search becoming desperate. He had been at it for hours, with no thought to his health or personal hygene for that matter. His hair was matted, his clothing disheveled and his eyeliner was smeared. At the moment he looked a damn site more like a goblin than a Goblin King, but he didn't care. The situation had gone from disturbing to terrifying in a few short hours, and he didn't want to think of the consequences if he should fail to find a solution.

The book he was currently searching through had proven to be just as useless as the rest, and he slammed it closed. "Damn!" he cried. Looking toward the sky he closed his eyes and pleaded. "Please, just tell me what is happening."

"You don't have to beg, Brother Dearest, I'll gladly tell you everything I know." A softly accented voice said from the doorway. Jareth looked up and smiled weakly at the small redhead with the flashing green eyes.

"Jade!" he said, summoning all of his strength to greet her properly. He stood and crossed the floor to where she waited, dropping a brotherly kiss to each of her pale cheeks. "It's been centuries, my sister, what brings you here now?" he asked her. In truth, he was concerned for her safety.

Jade moved away from him and leaned against the oak desk, studying her fingernails. "There are no time for pleasantries, Jareth, when I believe your Kingdom is in grave peril."

Jareth cocked an eyebrow. "How did you know?" he asked her.

"I've been watching, little brother." She said. "I've always been watching over you, didn't you know that?"

"I thought you went Aboveground to escape the gobins." He smirked.

"Is that what father told you?" She sighed. "Our kingdom was dying, Jareth. There were too few above who still believed in us, and the magic that held our world together was dwindling. I went Aboveground to find a way to fix it."

"You must have succeeded." He said, "Because we're still here."

"I found a man, a writer of books. I inspired him to write about our world, and our kingdom. He took a few liberties, of course, but he got the essence correct, and that is all that was needed. Once the book was published and read by enough people, belief in our Kingdom began to grow."

"The red book…" Jareth mused. "I wondered where that had come from."

"Yes, and it did its job admirably, until the last fifty years or so. Now there are too few people with enough imagination to truly believe. At one point, it had dwindled to just one. I believe you know her."

"Sarah…" Jareth breathed.

"Yes, your Sarah." Jade answered. "And I have been watching her ever since she left our world. You gave quite a lot of yourself to one who rejected you."

Jareth flushed slightly, but quickly recovered. "She was…special."

"Yes, she was." Jade agreed. "And still is, as I'm sure you know." She glanced sidelong at him, but he made no move to respond. "At any rate, her imagination was powerful enough to keep this world alive. When she began to write stories about it, even more people began to believe. But there was a problem."

"And what was that?" he asked her.

"You and your bloody singing." She answered, a scowl firmly planted on her face. "She came to believe that this place couldn't exist without music, and that's how she's written it. It has become so much a part of the way she imagines this world that it has become fact. Even you believe it."

"You mean it isn't so?" he asked her.

"It never used to be, but now it is." She answered. "Without music everything in this world will die, because she believes it to be so. Thanks to you." She added.

"Then I don't understand, where has the music gone?" he asked, ignoring her gibe.

"She has been told by the silly website that posts her stories that she can no longer add music to them. What's worse, she has to remove the music from the stories already written." Jade said all of this with a look of hatred on her face, no doubt directed at the 'website' in question.

"This is why my subjects are dying?" Jareth asked. "Because of some…spider thing?"

Jade shook her head. "You really should get out more, little brother." She said. "Anyway, what it is isn't important. We have to make her put the music back in. It's the only way to save the Underground."

"But Jade, you don't know Sarah like I do. You can't make her do anything." He said.

"Then we'll persuade her, Jareth. Perhaps you'll have better luck with her if you refrain from threatening her life every ten minutes or so."


Back at Sarah's:

Sarah turned to find a small, thin, pale woman with dark red hair and flashing green eyes. She somehow appeared frail and yet unflinchingly powerful and beautiful at the same time. "Amy?" Sarah asked, looking back and forth from the woman to the computer and back again. "How…?"

"Come, come, Sarah." The woman said. "I'm surprised at you. You have more imagination than that." Something about the woman's accent, coupled with the words she had just spoken, made her seem frighteningly familiar. A strange thought entered her mind, and although she knew it wasn't remotely possible, she couldn't help herself from voicing the theory.

"Jareth?" she asked, her head tilted in confusion.

The woman laughed. "No, Sarah dear, I'm not Jareth, though I suppose there is some family resemblance, though not much. I look more like our father."

Sarah gasped. "Wait! You're his sister?"

"His older sister, to be exact. You may call me Jade." The green eyed woman gave a slight bow.

"Sarah stood, and began backing slowly toward the wall. "Why are you here? Why were you pretending to chat with me all this time?"

"Don't be afraid, Sarah, we don't have time for it." Jade said. "I've not been pretending to chat with you, I really was on AOL. I have a flat in Soho with a blazing broadband connection." Sarah looked even more confused, so she continued. "As to why I'm here, its to express the urgency that you put the music back in your stories."

"But Fafinet.."

"To hell with Fafinet!" Jade thundered. "The stories don't even have to be published! But you have to put the music back in."

Sarah's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "I don't have to do anything." She told her. "Why should I listen to you?"

The space beside Jade shimmered and a new figure appeared, a figure so achingly familiar that Sarah nearly fell to her knees at the site of him. "I told you she would be this way." The figure drawled. Turning to Sarah he smirked arrogantly in that unforgettable way of his, and his mismatched eyes twinkled. "Hello Sarah." He told her, and was as surprised as she was when she fainted.

A/N: Reviews are yummy to my tummy.