| Logs |
2009 April 18
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Bough Logs |
Cabaletta, Third Stanza
The bow is silent as Mikal pulls it out and stares at it; in the light, it looks like a simple bow made of white pine, curved as if it were strung, which it is not; the inner surface of the curves has a faint shimmering sheen to it. It is also not terribly chatty; it says nothing.
Mikal ponders for a moment, then tries a careful, precise, yes or no question, "Bow, can you do less damage than that required to slay a spider-wasp, but more than would be necessary to slay a deer?"
The bow answers, "Yes, within limits. I have a quiver within, which can hold awen grains. While the Arrow of Krishna needs to be charged by 'free' awen, and a normal arrow will require a nearly insignificant amount of 'free' awen', greater shots, but less than the Arrow of Krishna, can and will consume awen grains, proportionate to the power of the shot desired.
Mikal thinks about that, then asks curiously, "You get awen from the Dawn. Is there any other way to feed you awen?"
"As I said, I have a 'quiver' within me which can hold awen grains. The nature of the Arrow of Krishna does not allow me to use 'grain' awen in it's charging. However, these grains can be used to augment 'normal' arrows that I fire."
Mikal nods thoughtfully -- that's good to know! She'd been wondering how she could, in good conscience, use the bow if it meant she was slowing down the death of another spider-wasp. She waits for the bow to answer her actual question. She's happy to feed it all the awen she finds, but she still doesn't know how. She thinks a bit, then clarifies -- although she hopes the bow isn't going to be quite this pedantic all the time, "And if there is, how do I do it, please?"
"As I said, I have an 'quiver' within me. There is a small reservoir within the handle, which can be reached by unwrapping the cords there and lifting away a small beveled panel. Within you can place awen grains."
Mikal says, "Ah! That's what I needed to know." She studies the bow carefully, not wanting to ruin any part of it by careless application of its directions. "Moment, please..."
The bow assures Mikal that it would take a great deal for it to be damaged, and walks her through the process of opening the handle and lifting away the small wooden panel. Within is a shallow tray that at the moment is empty. It is not a quick or trivial thing to open it up and put in awen grains, but it doesn't appear difficult to do.
Mikal cautiously checks once more, to be sure she's got it right: this is not where awen is collected for the Arrows of Krishna, right?
Mikal rustles around in her backpack as she talks, looking for a bit of awen to add. It seems silly to her to go to the trouble of opening the bow, after all, and not put anything in it!
The bow answers, "That is correct. The 'free' awen remains in a free state within my structure, though it is no longer ambient; this is required for me to generate the Arrow of Krishna."
Mikal blinks confusedly at that, then whispers to Armaros, "Did you understand that?"
Armaros nods, "As near as I can tell... it absorbs awen from the Dawn. This is not awen in the form of grains, but rather the 'free' wash of awen that comes in the Dawn. It stores this 'free' awen throughout itself, charging it's entire structure."
Mikal nods earnestly, "That I got! What's an ambient awen, though? Is that another form?"
Jareth finds himself in the grounds of the Winter Palace and says a few choice words about ill-timed wakings, and then goes about finding someone to direct him to Armaros. He knows Mikal had meant to go there after they were done in the armory, and he's concerned about her and the blood-bound bow. After getting turned around a time or two and finally getting escorted through the last bit of the journey by one of the less solemn of the aelfar, he climbs into Armaros' porch and raps lightly on the door.
Mikal jumps slightly at the knock, then glances at Armaros, "I, uh, d-d-do y-you n-need me to l-leave?"
Armaros perks a bit as he hears the door, and he stands, chuckling softly. "I think your friends have found you, Mikal! Nono, if I am right, you've no need nor reason to leave..." He goes to the door, and opens it, smiling to Jareth. "Ah, Jareth, please, come in! Mikal is already here."
Raphael lifts his head, sniffing a moment, then lays his head back on his paws. Mikal, on the other hand, brightens at the news the big raptor-wolf gave her, "Really?!" She sets the bow aside carefully before jumping to her feet and pattering over to peer out the door, "Jarr? Oh, it is you! C'mon in -- we're having a lovely tea!"
Jareth grins at the man. He hasn't been around for much of the situations that made Mikal somewhat twitchy about him, "I thought she might be." He lets Armaros usher him in, "We've been having somewhat of an interesting day. I think we nearly shocked Rowan into apoplexy."
Mikal giggles, looking faintly guilty, "We, er, really we didn't mean to!"
Mikal hugs Jareth happily, "Hi! You went away, but I'm glad you came back."
Jareth smiles wryly, "I was the first one to try and give it blood, it's just as much my fault." He returns Mikal's hug and says to Armaros, "Thank you for taking care of her."
There's a distintly amused snort from Raphael by the fire. Mikal looks indignant, "Hey now! I can take care of myself just fine!"
Jareth backpedals just a little, "You can take very good care of yourself, but you're not comfortable inside cities and fortresses."
Mikal says, "Oh. Well..." she thinks about that, then relaxes, settling back against Raphael again, "Well, sure! I mean, who is, once they've been able to live in the forest, you know?"
Jareth doesn't comment on that, turning to Armaros, "There was mention of tea?"
Raphael rolls his eyes faintly and grins -- which bares an astonishing number of jaggedy teeth! Mikal lifts up the bow, settling it in her lap again, "Look, Jareth! I can feed it awen here. It can't use the awen I give it for the really big arrows of Krishna, but we could use the arrows to make something big enough maybe to threaten Azreal, y'know?"
Armaros considers. "That's certainly possible, Mikal, yes. It would require a great deal of awen, however. To be honest, I'm not sure exactly how much, but at the very least it will help."
Mikal nods thoughtfully to Armaros, then says to the bow, "Hey, do you know how much energy is necessary to use in an arrow, if I ask you -- while drawing you -- to be strong enough to kill what you're aimed at?"
The bow answers, "No; I cannot analyze a target."
Mikal says, "Hm. Okay, then how do I tell you how strong an arrow to be firing?"
Jareth murmurs, "I suspect it comes down to luck and experience."
Mikal murmurs in quiet exasperation back to Jareth, "That's a darned good way to get us all killed!"
The wannabe-bard shrugs and smiles a bit, "It's all I can think of, though."
Mikal rolls her eyes amusedly, "If that's what it takes, the bow's not going to get used at all, unless I'm shooting at spider-wasps. I'm not risking our lives just to take down a deer, or to not take down a rabidly furious monster charging us!"
Jareth nods to Mikal, looking for somewhere to settle down and resisting the urge to go curl up with Mikal and Raphael. "Maybe the bow remembers some things it has been used against. That'd be different than guaging a target."
Mikal smiles shyly and pats the ground next to her and Raphael, "Don't know! When it answers, we'll know more."
The bow answers, "It is when you pull back on an imaginary bowstring that the arrow is formed. As you draw, by default I will create a normal arrow. If you wish a more powerful arrow, inform me as to how many grains of awen to consume in creating that arrow, and it will be proportionately more powerful.
Jareth finally does just settle down next to Mikal, keeping a little distance between them just to keep himself from nestling up with her. "So using it as a regular weapon is fine?"
Mikal smiles and shakes her head, "No, I don't think so. It uses awen to make those arrows, and if I can't specify what sort of arrow I need, then it's easier and more dependable to use my regular bow, you know? I don't want to accidentally explode a rabbit, or to do so much damage that I cause the area I'm in to act like it was hit with an earthquake."
Jareth nods and reaches over to pat Mikal's knee, "You know weapons better than I do. I'll trust your judgement on it."
Mikal blushes with pleasure at that statement, then hastily looks away so her hair swings forward to hide her face. Ah, a distraction! She hops up and cheerfully pours tea for Jareth, then checks to see if anyone else wants refills. "Raph? Would you like a bowl too?" The raptor-wolf flicks an ear in lazy dismissal, and she nods, "Okay!" as she puts the teapot down again. She curls up and beams at Jareth, struck momentarily speechless.
Jareth takes the tea and settles in with his back against Raphael to sip it. It gives him a welcome distraction as well and he does his best not to scowl. This sort of situation normally just works itself out and this one is refusing to do so.
Mikal hasn't a clue anything is bothering Jareth -- she's feeling sort of happily tingly, and firmly reminding herself to pay attention to what she's doing as she carefully puts the bow back together! Her attention is determinedly on the bow... although there's a small part of her keenly aware of the warmth of the two larger males sitting next to her.
The pair of mortals are probably utterly transparent to both Raphael and Armaros. Jareth just simply isn't used to complications in his amorous life, and he most certainly is rather unprepared to deal with his reaction to the thought of not seeing Mikal again.
Raphael sniffs amusedly a few times, then closes his eyes relaxedly, snoozing comfortably in the warmth of the fire. Mikal eventually finishes tightening the binding on the bow's grip, and holds it up with a pleased, "There we go!" She tucks the bow neatly away in her gorytus with her everyday bow, then picks up her cup of tea and has a sip. As she's swallowing, the silence registers, and her eyes flick back and forth between Armaros and Jareth. A bit uncertainly she asks, "Uh... is something... wrong?"
Armaros smiles quietly as he looks at the two mortals. "Would you like anything to eat?"
Mikal brightens, "Oh, ye- oh, wait, we d-don't nee- er, um..." She glances worriedly at Jareth, utterly unsure as to what the polite thing to do is! She doesn't want to deprive Armaros of food he needs, after all... but she also has no idea if one is supposed to share food or not.
Jareth nods to Armaros, "That would be nice, actually. I know we don't need it, really, but I find that my mind misses the idea of meals even if my body doesn't miss the food."
Mikal beams and nods cheerfully, "Me and Raph too, please?"
Mikal adds politely, "Would you like some assistance in the kitchen?"
Armaros chuckles softly, "I know, you do not need to eat. But there are worlds of sensations in food for a mortal, even in the Dreamtime." He nods, and goes to the small kitchen, which is really a small firepit and a variety of fruits and vegetables hung from racks, spices and herbs, breads and cheeses. There seems to be no meat, at least at the moment. "No, thank you, Mikal! This shall not take long!"
Mikal calls back, "All right!" She sighs happily and stretches out contentedly, with the limp relaxation of one who believes herself completely safe. Her head rests on Raphael's side, and one arm flops out naturally so it brushes lightly against Jareth's thigh. She blinks, stuttering, "S-s-scuse me!" as she hastily slides her arm a bit away.
Jareth catches Mikal's hand before she can get it too far away. His brows draw together as he mulls something over and asks, "You've told me you'd want to be special. What would you call special?"
Mikal's stormy eyes widen a bit and she goes still, staring up at Jareth as he does so. A moment later she blinks, her face coloring as she realizes she has no idea what Jareth just said! Weakly she murmurs, "Uh... wh-what d-did you say again p-please, Jareth?"
Jareth smiles wryly, keeping his voice down and repeating what he said before, "You said you want to be special. What would you consider special?" He's normally very good about eye contact, but Jareth's keeping his eyes on Mikal's hand at this point.
Mikal's confused gaze travels slowly down to her hand as she flusteredly tries to remember what exactly it is Jareth is talking about! She blinks and squeaks nervously, turning a bit pink as it suddenly registers what he means. Her eyes are firmly fixed on her hand in Jareth's too now, as she tries to think -- although it's getting awfully hot in this room! "Uh, I, uh, sp-sp-special, I..." She tries frantically to collect her thoughts.
Jareth keeps his voice down, "You don't have to answer now. I just wondered." He starts to let go of her hand.
As they talk, the environs change -- imperceptibly at first, then they both suddenly notice it. They are both in the drawing room of that strange city, the one with the wrought-iron tower and the brilliant lights that shine like millions of stars at night....
Mikal squeaks unwittingly again, suddenly frightened she's somehow chased off Jareth. She starts to sit up, curling her fingers gently about his so he doesn't feel he has to withdraw -- but when the environment changes her hand tightens in sudden nervousness as she glances around, sitting bolt upright. Her free hand falls on her bow -- until she realizes they're not in a threat situation, which causes her to relax slightly. She's still looking around very alertly, though, and her voice is soft, "J-Jarr? D-do you see it too?"
Jareth lets Mikal hold onto his hand and shifts on the couch. He knows the room and he remembers the strange city with it's almost lace-work iron tower. Silently, he nods to let Mikal know he noticed.
Raphael is curled up comfortably by the fire -- not quite fully a raptor-wolf, but a very large, very toothy, bushy-tailed mastiff.
Mikal sighs a bit gustily in relief, "Oh, good! I th-thought I w-was losing it or s-something...!" She unwittingly leans closer to Jareth, despite being fairly sure this isn't a threatening place -- abrupt changes of her environment have not been happy for her, previous to this occurrence. After a moment where nothing rushes them or screams at them, and Raphael seems relaxed (if rather odd looking!)... she relaxes again, smiling as she looks curiously at Jareth, "I wonder where this is?"
Jareth shakes his head slowly and says, "I have no idea where this is. I know I feel comfortable here." He watches Raph in front of the cozy fire, eyes scanning the books that line the walls, "It's somewhere we tend to end up when it's just us."
Mikal grins at him, then looks away shyly, admiring the beautiful profusion of books. She's silent for a moment, just looking... then she realizes she's still holding Jareth's hand. She whispers a bit nervously, "Um... weren't we going to go exploring, last time we were here?" She glances sideways at Jareth through her curling bangs, checking to see how he looks.
Jareth nods, still looking down at Mikal's hand, "We did some exploring. The tower..."
Mikal blinks again, "We... did?" She tries to remember -- she thought they'd been just about to leave, not that they'd already made it to that strange, metal-framed tower. She tugs a bit nervously on her blouse, worried about her memory, then blushes and hastily tugs it back into place again.
Jareth stands up, tugging Mikal with him and doing his best to put on a cheerful and playful face, "Then let's go look at the tower. You can think while we walk, maybe." Quick on the heels of that, he says, "Not that you have to answer now. Or ever, really. I just wondered." He doesn't seem to notice he's repeating himself.
Mikal stammers, "Wha- I -- uh..." then squeaks a nervous, "Okay!" as she follows behind Jareth.
The two head out of the drawing room, Raphael rousing himself, yawning hugely, and trotting along.
The city is as they remember it, with people and light and sounds, with brilliant, baroque architecture mingled with strangely utilitarian metal construction here and there. But over all things is the tower, around which so much gathers. The sun is low in the sky when they reach it again, and begin up the stairways to the first tier, where there is a lovely little cafe that looks out over the streets below.
Jareth keeps up a stream of inconsequential chatter, anecdotes and tries for his normal level of harmless flirtation with Mikal and with the other people they encounter. It helps keep him distracted. When they reach that little cafe, he pauses and says, "Do you want to stop here or go on up?"
Mikal sticks close to Jareth and Raphael, not quite clinging to the more self-assured man's hand. She feels relatively safe, however, and her face slowly lights up as she looks around her (clearly a tourist!) with growing delight. As they walk the others can hear her small, soft, excited exclamations at some of the wonders she's seeing. She tries to pay attention to Jareth's words, but occasionally things are just so amazing that they cause her to stare in awe -- like the first time a wheeled vehicle goes by, apparently under its own power!
Mikal has backed up a bit, utterly amazed at how high they are -- she's only been this high on a mountain! She steps forward slowly and cautiously, almost as if she expects the tower to sway like a tree in the breeze, and brushes her hair back out of her face as she peeks carefully over the edge... but as she gains her courage she laughs aloud (if still softly), and is soon hanging over the balcony's bannister, "So high, Jareth! Is this your home when you're awake?" She turns around, looking up the tower in awe as she adds softly, "How high can we go?! Will we be able to breathe up there?!"
Jareth blinks a little bit and looks around, trying to get a feel about whether or not he knows this place. The language is familiar to him, at least. Without thinking, he reaches out and grabs the back of Mikal's tunic-like blouse, more to reassure himself than to keep her from falling.
Mikal glances startledly over her shoulder at Jareth, "What? Is something wrong?"
Jareth smiles crookedly, "You're making me nervous. I wouldn't like it if you fell." He shrugs, finally giving part of an answer to her earlier question, "I don't know if it's home, but I know this place. It's familiar to me. I think I've been here."
Mikal beams at Jareth, her eyes lighting up, "Oh, you have a lovely home, Jarr -- it's like a forest of metal, almost!" She starts to move, then comes up short against her blouse, and glances down at herself in surprise. She giggles as she adds, "Can I move now, please? I want to go to the very top with you!"
Jareth chuckles and lets go of Mikal's top, "Yes. Let's go on up." He's relaxing slightly, enjoying the convivial atmosphere of the city and feeling in his element. It soothes his jangled nerves, "I don't not about the very top, but we'll go as far as we can."
Mikal laughs and is almost dancing up the stairs ahead of Jareth, exclaiming happily at all the marvels about her. Raphael bounds easily up the stairs, tongue lolling in doggish laughter when he glances back at Jareth following behind. At each floor where she can, Mikal stops and darts over to the balconies to marvel at how much higher they are, and how far they can see, and how amazing and beautiful the land is -- there are trees and greenery outside the city itself, and gardens and rivers weaving through it. She's having a wonderful time!
Jareth follows up at a slightly slower pace, letting Mikal's excitement relax him. In no small part, it's because she seems to actually be comfortable in this lovely city with its strange contraptions for one passenger and it's cafes and architecture.
Mikal gleefully gives Raphael and Jareth both several hugs in her excitment, as she patters up the stairs. She's in truly excellent shape, due to her previous lifestyle, and so being in light sandals and what look somewhat like cotton men's trousers don't slow her down at all. When she reaches the top she falls silent, completely speechless at the amazing view! She stares around wide-eyed, her fingers looped through the mesh, and the wind plays lightly with her hair, tugging wisps free from her loose braid.
Jareth steps up behind Mikal and wraps his arms around her waist, moving carefully enough to let her move away if she wants. His eyes scan the city below with a sort of peaceful awe. Some part of him feels like this will never get old, as if he's been here before.
Mikal leans back against Jareth without thinking about it, one hand falling to rest on his hands where they clasp about her middles. Her hair tickles his chin occasionally as the wind ruffles past them both, and as her head turns to study yet another marvel. She whispers softly, "Are we angels now?"
Mikal is amazed at the lace-like detailing of the iron, her fingers running gently over an almost organic looking curl as she leans against Jareth.
Jareth laughs quietly and shakes his head, "Non, mon lapin. We're just people standing in a tower and looking at one of the most beautiful cities in the world. If we were angels, we could spread wings and fly over all of this."
Mikal smiles a little wistfully, still staring in awe out at the beautiful park and rolling greenlands surrounding the tower, and the city itself. "Really, are you sure we need wings? Armaros has none... wouldn't it be wonderful to fly?"
Jareth laughs, Mikal's excitement contagious. He gives her a quick squeeze and carefully lets her go, "It would be lovely to fly, but I don't think I want to try it here. Like I said, I wouldn't want you to fall and hurt yourself."
Mikal considers that, then nods, "Good point." She feels a small internal pang of disappointment as Jareth releases, but then firmly reminds herself -- she can't hold onto a honeybee, and she knows it. She turns and smiles up at Jareth, her eyes still bright with excitement, "So... would you like to eat at that restaurant now, qadesh?"
Jareth smirks playfully, "What's qadesh mean?" He starts to back toward the stairs, "I would love to have a little meal with you there." There's a flash of something in his eyes before he dampens it down about other things he might like. He's waiting for her answer to his question about being special.
Mikal opens her mouth to answer as she follows Jareth -- then stops, looking a bit confused. "It... I, um..." She wracks her brains, trying to remember what that word means -- then hastily starts walking again as she remembers to follow Jareth.
Mikal frowns, pattering thoughtfully after Jareth for several levels of stairs. It's as they emerge on the floor with the restaurant that she says quietly, "Oh." A moment later she adds even more quietly, "I -- I understand now. No wonder you're a honeybee."
Jareth blinks and pauses in his walking, reaching for Mikal's hands, "What do you mean, lapin? And you still haven't told me what quadesh means."
Mikal takes Jareth's hands willingly enough, although she looks shyly away as she murmurs, "How you behave -- I understand now. You -- you're like the sacred priestesses of Astarte, the ones who impart Her blessings through the sexual act." She glances sideways up at Jareth, adding, "The qadesha. The qadesh were the men."
That brings Jareth to a stop, "You're calling me a priest of love?"
"Or just of sex?"
Mikal's shoulders hunch up a bit, "Hey, it's a great honor where I come from!"
Mikal adds softly, "S-sorry?"
Mikal's face is hidden by her hair, and she frowns a bit confusedly. She at least thinks it's an honor...?
Mikal nods thoughtfully to herself. It was, yes. It was the outsiders who couldn't understand -- that's right.
Jareth leans carefully forward and kisses Mikal's forehead, "You called it a blessing. I didn't figure it was something bad." He's smiling, thinking carefully on that one.
Mikal blinks, shivering once, and glances up through her bangs again. She's relieved to notice the smile, and she asks softly, "What's a lapin, please?"
Jareth grins, "It means rabbit. It's actually a term of affection here."
Mikal's voice is soft, "Oh." She smiles, looking down again and self-consciously curling an errant wisp of hair about her fingers as she adds, "That... that's nice. Thank you, Jarr."
The restauraunt is on the first platform; the platform itself is square, open in the center so one can look down. It is fairly simple, with small tables and a small kitchen; it appears to be mostly for serving light meals, but it is pleasant atmosphere and warmth and the view make it so much more remarkable.
Jareth smiles lopsidedly, "Does it really bother you that I call you rabbit? I meant it teasingly, you know. When you're startled, you jump and hide. Just like a rabbit. But rabbits aren't so fierce."
Mikal smiles as she stares at her toes, shaking her head several times and making her braid bounce, "Nonono, it's fine!" She giggles, adding, "I'll just be a, um, fierce rabbit!"
Jareth laughs and signals someone to get them a table, settling in comfortably and speaking with the staff in fluid and easy French. He even holds Mikal's chair for her.
Mikal is a bit confused, starting to step away under the assumption that Jareth wants her chair, but with a bit of hasty explanations she blushes, giggles, and is seated.
Mikal has been quietly thinking about Jareth's question in the back of her head the entire time. It finally comes forward enough for her to wait until Jareth has ordered -- she's a little wide-eyed at his easy fluency -- then to hesitantly say, "I, um... I want to feel special, you know? Like... unique? Like I'm the most amazing person my beloved knows?" She blushes, looking down at where her hands are busily worrying at the napkin as she adds softly, "I, um, I know it p-probably sounds d-dumb..."
Jareth reaches across the table and takes Mikal's hands, very seriously saying, "Are you talking about monogamy? Are you talking about love? What could a honeybee do?"
Mikal squeaks softly in nervousness, blinking unsurely at Jareth from behind her bangs. It takes her a second to gather herself to breathlessly answer, "I, I, I don't know, Jareth -- I'm sorry! I, I ne-never expected to be asked!" She looks down again as she adds unhappily, "I w-w-was resigned t-to always being al-l-lone, you know? B-because of b-b-being a m-m... a m-m-monster..."
Jareth continues on, "Because you are unique and you are amazing." His smile goes a little strange and his voice lowers, "When Raven came for me, I slipped up. I meant to ask her if I could warn you all. But you were there, just outside the door. Just feet away from a stone murdered and I wanted to warn you. I wanted to come back from the dead to keep you from dying."
Mikal's head comes up and she stares at Jareth, her mouth open in a small 'o' of astonishment. Finally she whispers, "Me? Y-you wanted to be sure I was safe?" Then she blinks, hastily reminding herself -- of course he did! She's pack. He likely would have done the same for Norris or Raphael too, after all. She sighs, looking down a bit, and smiles faintly, "You m-mean like you would have done for all of us, right?"
Jareth hangs his head, "Of course I wanted you all safe, Mikal. But I don't think I could have been happy even in heaven if you had died and I could have stopped it. I meant to ask Raven if I could warn you all, but what I asked if I could warn you. I saw you there, you know? Standing outside the door, getting ready to come through it like the very goddess of vengeance."
Mikal blinks again, her gaze rising to Jareth's face again. She stares silently at him for several heartbeats, feeling oddly dizzy -- it's like his hands keep her from falling over, or floating away or something. Fleetingly she wonders if she's ill, but all she does is to say faintly, "Y-you... w-what are you t-telling me, Jarr?"
Jareth laughs tightly, "Mikal, I'm telling you I think I might be..." He shakes his head, "No, I'm pretty sure by now. I love you. And I need to know what you need to be special. Because if I can't give it to you, I'm going to make damn sure someone can."
Mikal's eyes are huge as she stares at Jareth, and she feels dizzy enough that she wonders if she'd going to faint -- but would she recognize the sensations if she were? She's never fainted before after all and it would be strange in a dream to do something she's never done in real life and... and... her thoughts trail out and she nods faintly once at Jareth. After that she sits there silently, still staring in astonishment. When he doesn't disappear after a few heartbeats she whispers, "I... this is really real? I'm not dreaming?"
Jareth shrugs, "We're probably dreaming. We've been dreaming together a long time. You and me and Norris and Raphael. But I guess it's as real as anything. I don't want to make promises I can't keep. You're right. I'm a honeybee. I like to taste the flowers. But honeybees, they come back. They always come back. They know where home is and they never stray from it. As long as the queen is there."
Mikal nods faintly again, still staring and trying to think what she should do or say and drawing a complete blank -- this is so totally outside her personal experience, or anything she thought she'd ever experience! Finally she realizes she's staring, and blushes, looking down hastily. "Um! Uh, I, I d-don't know wh-what t-t-t..." Abruptly she realizes she knows what she'd like to say, even if it's not the right thing to say. Shyly she whispers, "C-c-can I please have a hug, J-jareth?"
Jareth smiles and stands up, moving around the table and kneeling so he's more on a level with her to give the nervous girl a hug.
Mikal leans over quickly to hastily wrap her arms tightly around Jareth, almost clinging to him. She sighs, relaxing a little, and murmurs, "You're nice 'n warm..." A moment later she starts shivering from the release of tension.
Jareth is happy to hug Mikal and discreetly motions for the drinks and food to be left if they show up while she's clinging to him. "It's a strange time to be talking about all of this, I know. You found a weapon to help us save so many worlds and we've lost Tomas. But this sort of thing... it's a part of the stories. It's a part of this story."
Mikal says, "I-i-izzit?" She has the strangest urge to both cry and laugh at the same time; she hiccups as she adds, "I, I f-feel so funny, J-jareth -- am I sick?"
Jareth is smiling and doing his best to keep any sign of amusement out of his voice, not wanting to make her think he's maing fun, "I don't think so, mon lapin."
Mikal says, "Oh. G-g-good..." she's struggling with not laughing, and her voice is lilting oddly as she adds, "w-wouldn't want to give it t-to you as w-w-well..."
Mikal sniffles, wiping at her eyes. Her voice is a little choked up as she adds, "Y-y- d-do you really love m-m-me? I d-didn't know you c-could do that...?"
Jareth is petting Mikal's back and her comment makes him snort laughter, "You didn't know I could love someone?"
Mikal is still struggling with the powerful urge to cry, and her voice is a bit indignant, "N-no!" then immediately thereafter chagrinned, "W-well, y-y-yes..." She laughs through the tears, hiccuping again as she adds, "B-but what I really m-meant was that anyone c-c-could, you know? Love m-me, I mean -- I mean, d-doesn't it s-scare you at all that I'm half m-m-monster?"
Mikal loses the shreds of her self-control at that last word, and starts really crying, clinging to Jareth tightly.
Mikal's never had anyone she completely felt she could relax and be herself with, except for Raphael. While she loves him dearly, a part of her has always been slightly afraid of what she was truly like inside, and terrified of being violently rejected, hunted and slain, if her true nature were ever discovered. To have Jareth not only know, but also say he actually loves her... has shaken her to the core.
Jareth smiles a little bit, "Mikal, you're no more a monster than Raphael is." He's not entirely sure how to deal with sobbing being the response to this whole thing, but he does his best to comfort her, "I know I don't think of you as half anything. You're Mikal. We a--" He has to amend himself, "We both, me and Norris, think the world of you." His brows draw together as he has a sudden worry, "Have we made you feel like that? Like you were a monster?"
Mikal is still clinging tightly to Jareth as she sobs -- she's almost in his lap at this point -- but his words make her draw a few deep, hiccuping breaths as she tries to think. She rubs her face with one fist, sniffling a bit, then simply holds Jareth close for a few heartbeats as she considers. When she finally speaks her voice is very soft and awed, "Y-you do? Of me? Really?"
Jareth shakes his head in amazement, "Of course we do. I'm just... well, Norris says it best. I'm the pretty boy. I can talk to people, but you save lives."
Mikal sighs happily, almost snuggling up against Jareth as she murmurs, "You like me... my pack really likes me!"
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