Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, or any of the characters or scenes that may have been quoted. The only original items in this story are the characters I added from my own mind, and the situations and places that I created to add to Jim Henson's wonderfully warped little Labyrinth.

Chapter One

The room was full of smoke, it only served to make the light look solid as it flashed from green to gold to orange, then into deep, mellow blue. Rock and roll blared over the stereo system, the sound of the wailing guitar loud enough that it cleared the noise from the crowd with ease. No simple feat, since the patrons tonight swelled into the high hundreds. No less than three hundred by the door count.

The walls were dark wood, with metal accents tossing lights back into the crowd. The ceiling was rife with neon lights, long lines racing across the ceiling like neon madness come to life. It was brilliant, making one dizzy. The scent of bodies pressed together and the heavy hand used to apply perfume only served in addition.

Bartenders scurried around, chewing bright pink bubble gum with an open mouth, winking and teasing patrons as they took orders for drinks and meals. When they sashayed off it was in leather skirts with their towering heels catching and holding the glare of the ever-changing lights. Their hair was teased, their make-up was applied without thought, and their eyes were hungry.

It was perfect.

"What are you thinking, Sarah, you know we aren't ready for something like this!" Deborah looked more than nervous, her bright pink dress and little orange baby-doll ribbons making her look like a young woman lost. She looked too young and far too innocent to be in this place. She smoothed back fly-away dyed-orange hair, torn between inspecting her reflection and the huge, writhing mass outside the curtains.

"We're here, Debbi, either we go out and try, or we leave and give up." The male voice behind her made Deborah jump, her cinnamon colored eyes wide in shock. A smile lit her face when she saw who it was.

"Tyler!" Her voice was a squeal as she threw her arms around his neck. Tyler let her cling as he checked the amplifier for his guitar and the connection to his wicked, scaled green guitar. It was all fabric and sequins. It would have looked at home in sewing class, but no one questioned him. At 6'3 he was taller than the rest of the Senior class, and rarely spoke. He was Native American, though he snorted at the term. He was American, he said, plain and simple. Still, his long black hair and dark, smooth skin told the tale for him. Tyler, or 'Dragon', as he was referred to in the business, nodded once at Sarah.

Deborah had removed herself from his person, but only for a moment. She was, once again, checking her reflection.

Sarah drummed her nails against the bass guitar, cringing at the color. Bright neon orange. Debbi's guitar was not a sight one could miss, no matter how hard they tried. A slight crash made everyone wince. Debbi cursed under her breath, wiping up the now-smeared lipstick she had been applying. The dark-haired lead-singer tapped her black nails again on the bass in irritation. Dragon looked over his shoulder with a dark scowl at the source.

"Sorry…" James brushed his short hair back again with jittery hands. He was decent at the drums, and he was Deborah's younger brother, or else he wouldn't have been invited to come. He knew it, and tried to make himself as invisible as possible. He reclaimed the pedal, which had been the cause of the distraction, and took a few calming breaths.

Watching from her position in the wings, Sarah inspected him with third-person detachment. He was attractive enough. His hair was soft, brown-red, and wavy. It was cut short, in the style favored by the wealthy upper class. Where Deborah had rebelled, he had excelled.

His eyes were hazel. She wrinkled her nose at the term. They were red-brown too, except when he smiled or laughed. Then one could see the green. She had been the first to point it out to him, she recalled, with a small smirk.

Her smirk disappeared, however, with the presence of the stage manager for the club. He was round, balding, and looked almost twice his age. His hair--what little of it there as--was greasy, laying lifelessly against pale skin. His eyes were hidden behind thick shades, even in the darkness of the club.

"Wicked Queen?" His voice was deep, congested and harsh in scorn. Behind the large frame of the drums James laughed quietly. It had been his idea, a way to tease Sarah. The rest of the group, rather than teasing him like they usually would have, agreed with snickers of pleasure. Sarah had been livid for weeks, but by then the name had caught on. They even had a decent fan-base here with them to support the band tonight.

"That's us." Sarah stepped out of the shadows and the man took a step back, his chest puffing up a little.

He nodded, a fake smile spreading over his lips. "Right, great. Be ready in two." He waddled away, scratching the back of his head.

"Wow Sarah…" Debbi was no longer inspecting herself, but rather the darker, taller female. She took in the heeled boots that ended just above the knee, the dark green leggings, the jumper-suit that was cut shorter than decent shorts should be… The shirt was dark green silk, and it didn't conceal her chest so much as emphasize it. With her long, dark hair spilling around her and her eyeliner dark, Sarah looked every inch of a man's hot dream. "You look..."

"Thanks Debbs. Let's hope they're distracted enough not to notice you're limp bass playing." The taunt didn't go unanswered, and as Deborah took up the large guitar, she shot Sarah a scowl, and stuck out her tongue, almost losing her gum in the process.

Dragon tugged on his tight black pants, and then at his tight-fitting green shirt. Behind the drums, James was busy reminding himself to focus on the drums rather than the appealing view of Sarah's rear end. Their cue came, and the curtains came up around them.

Sarah stood, center stage, her hair wild around her pale face, her chin tilted up in defiance. In one hand was a microphone, and in the other was a piece of metal Dragon had made into a crown and then spray painted. It suited well enough. The audience liked the visual. Their fans started chanting 'All Hail', over and over again. Soon it was taken up, and the drums began a soft, slow rhythm. Alone, with only the steady beat, Dragon started his opening solo.

It was smooth and low, and it made Sarah's blood throb in her veins. Just as it was supposed to. The crowd grew quiet as the solo continued, singing out loudly in the now-quiet room. She lifted the microphone to her lips, and the drums picked up. Like a match struck, the bass came in, and the beat doubled it's pace.

"Into the night you carried me, and oh, you promised me the world… Said take my hand and be my queen my wicked, wicked little girl…" Her voice was perfect, syllables sharp, voice strong. She took three decisive, even steps back, and smiled. The crowd loved it.

She laid the crown on the mic-stand, now right beside her. To her left Dragon was moving around the front of the stage, hitting power chords and shooting the ladies very sexy, masculine glances. His innocent counter-part, Debbi kicked her bass in a circle as she shimmied a little, her bright pink a wonderful splash of color.

"Well here I am, here I am, here I am, catch me if you can. Oh, oh, catch me if you can!" She stepped forward, hair flying back, even as she knelt to touch the hands of the reaching crowd members. The band was hitting every note, carrying the chorus as high as they could, riding the melody hard. Dragon was wonderful, a little part of her mind admitted, even as she shook her shoulders, giving just a glimpse of flesh. She stood again smoothly and turned in a quick circle, leaning into Debbi's space before striding into Dragon's. They played it up, the battle of their instrument and her voice.

"Yeah here I am, here I am, bold and brave, without a plan. Come my King, sweep me away, but have me back before the day… Before the day is through. Before your Wicked little Queen is tired of you…"

The drums fired, a small solo, enough time for Dragon to breathe before the next flash of screaming, wailing strings.

"You never come to me, you never answer when I call. Did you mean those words you said, or were they just painted dreams after all? And how I craved to see your face and feel your touch… but you can't hear me anyways, and I think I've said too much…"

Debbi popped her gum, and Dragon jumped into his solo, a longer version of the opening. It was going so well, Sarah thought, staying in character. She took her seat on one of the larger drums. She closed her eyes a moment, leaning forward as she sang into the microphone, for all of them, and for none of them.

"Well here I am, here I am, here I am, catch me if you can. Oh, oh, catch me if you can!" She crossed her legs, and leaned back, mirroring a pose long-forgotten by a man she wasn't sure ever existed. Her eyes shot open, narrowed in defiance. "Oh I'm not running, here I stand!"

The solo continued, and the crowd was a mess. They were cat-calling, screaming, and some of them took up the chant again. It was a good show, one so high on energy Sarah almost felt like she was who she pretended to be… a Wicked Queen, waiting to be claimed by her forsaken King.

She stood, and approached center stage again. "You challenged me, and then I spoiled your perfect little world… You offered me your heart, this wicked, wicked little girl…" Debbi was singing back-up, and everything felt right! Sarah knew in that moment, this was her stage. This, not acting.

Everything slowed, as it had in the opening and the bridge. "So offer it again, offer me my every dream. Oh, because I know that thing's aren't always what they seem. And when you return to me you'll get such a surprise; you'll find your wicked little girl is now a wicked queen in your bright eyes. Well here I am, here I am…. Here I am."

The crowd cheered and called, almost drowning out the polite 'thank you' Sarah spoke into the microphone. She whipped the crown off her head, and threw it out into the mass. If Dragon had a complaint she'd pay later. It was right. They surged around it, men and women alike, both genders wanting a little piece of the magic, the fire, that had taken place on-stage.

As they were leaving the stage, the balding manager met them, and stopped them. "No no no, give them an encore! The next band didn't show… And they like you!" His voice, still deep and congested, sounded happier than it should have. When Debbie looked to Sarah for confirmation, she nodded once. They surged back out to the screams of the crowd.

"Play something a little slower. I think 'That's not Fair-y Tale'." Her words were for James and Debbi, Dragon would take his cue from them. It would mean a little break for him. By the sweat running over his face, Sarah could tell it old be a welcome one. He had been running a fever all night, at least now he would be able to claim it was from hard work. The ladies would love it.

* * * *

"What are you listening to?"

Five guilty goblins jumped, two fleeing quickly to the other side of the throne room. One tripped over a chicken on the way, starting a loud bickering match. The remaining three stood with wide eyes, making up reasons why they would have been dancing and trying to imitate the strange music coming from the crystal on the pedestal beside the throne.

The pedestal was aged marble, it's black veins flecked with gold and green. It it's top was a thick swatch of silk, deep and silken emerald green. It was a very comfortable perch for the single crystal ball resting in it's center.

"Well?" His demand made the smallest answer, trembling.

"The crystal, Kingy… It's makin' noise." His face was scrunched, his nose upturned, his eyes tiny. They were almost the size and shape of buttons. They were wonderful at expressing his fear and confusion. For that reason alone Jareth didn't demand a better explanation. With a wave of his gloved hand they were all summarily dismissed.

He lifted the crystal, which was, indeed, making noise. He lifted one arched brow in interest, sitting on his throne and gazing into it's depths a moment.

There were flashing lights, and people. Mortals, to be exact. All of them were cheering and swaying along with the sound--the music--they heard. As he focused, the crystal moved forward, closing in on the stage.

There was a man, his long hair swaying, his tanned skin glistening. It was effective, he thought, listening to the wail of the man's guitar. The drummer was next, though he made a far less impressive picture. His hair was cut shorter, his eyes half-opened as he kept up the rhythm. Next was a girl. She was wearing neon orange and pink, her hair a fluffy ball around her head, her instrument too large for her seemingly frail form. She was an average mortal woman, they were an average band. What then, inspired the fervor in the listeners? And in his own goblins?

And then he heard her voice, and the crystal turned to her. His breath caught at her appearance, and then exited sharply as he heard her bold words. "Here I am, here I am, I'm not running, here I stand…" His face darkened, and he snarled. The crystal flew through the air, shattering into a thousand shards as it met the opposite wall.

Goblins fell silent, their faces slack in stupidity or rigid in fear. Their King was livid, furious, and several adjectives that were beyond their vocabulary but not their understanding. Something was very not-good, and it was only going to get worse before it got better. It usually happened that way.

Jareth's nostrils were flared, his eyes bright and wild as he made his orders. "Fetch me Higgle. He will be in the castle at the footholds of the Bog of Eternal Stench. I want him here before dawn." When no one moved, he shot to his feet. "Now!" A trio escaped the room, running eagerly to fetch he Dwarf. Anything to escape their raging King.

"The rest of you… Clean the castle. I want it spotless when I return." He didn't wait for a reply. Sweeping his white feathered cloak around him he let the form and freedom of the Owl overtake him. Screeching, he flew out one of the high windows, making several Goblins cry out in fear.

"Did we do bad?" One asked, his hat askew. He knelt, touching the dust on the wall where the crystal had shattered. "I thought Kingy liked music."

No one could offer him an answer.

Author's Note:

Hello everyone, this is my second FanFic so I'm still pretty new with the site editing and things. And this site is a little picky about some things, so I just had to re-post my chapter 14 on 'Pale Jewel' like 3 times... yipes! All right everyone please give me some feedback on the music and the story in general, it would be really really helpful since I'm wiriting about a time I wasn't born in yet. lol...

Okay thanks guys, read and review!

-Chaotic Reverie