| Logs |
2009 June 15
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Bough Logs |
Cabaletta, Fifth Stanza
Mikal is initially reluctant to see her lover re-clothe himself; her small hand trails with appreciation along the smooth curves of his pale-skinned body. At some point, however, she sighs and grins, reaching for her own clothing as well. Soon she's once more the tiny, rakish Cavalier, one gloved hand resting on the pommel of her rapier and her dashing hat shading half her face, giving her small, quiet smile a mysterious allure.Jareth keeps his back to Mikal as he dresses, less out of modesty and more out of a bid to keep his self-control around him. Mikal's touch along the occasional patches of bare skin. When he's finally clothed again, he catches his hair up into a loose queue at the base of his skull, and then turns back to her with a smile.
Mikal tilts her head so he catches a flash of her wide, storm-gray eyes, and brings up her free hand to touch gloved fingers lightly to the brim of her hat in salute. "Where to now, mon beau chat? I am at your service."
Jareth murmurs, "Is that so?" with his brows arched in obvious innuendo. Then, he offers her his elbow and says, "The house, I think. It is lovely, and I think you will like my room. It overlooks the gardens."
Mikal chuckles quietly, tucking her small hand into the crook of his elbow. Her head turns so the hat mysteriously hides her face again... as well as the sudden hot blush of mixed pleasure and embarrassment!
Mikal walks with every appearance of calm self-confidence, not quite swaggering. The light touch of her hand on his arm tells a different story, however -- Jareth can occasionally feel her fine trembling.
Jareth walks with the smooth confidence of someone that is utterly and totally in his element. His head is held with a slightly cocky tilt and he's smiling just a little, an expression that he doesn't even realize he's wearing. It doesn't even seem to bother him that the person he's escorting is apparently a young man. The occasional people that pass by in the distance don't even seem to give them a second glance.
Mikal murmurs softly to her companion, "Will there be any trouble with Raphael in the house? Do they have hunting dogs?" The big, now-wolfish-looking Raph goes trotting easily by as she asks, and she lets her hand trail in a gentle caress down his heavy-furred back as he does so.
Mikal is a tiny, slight woman still, with the same untamed look in her wild gray eyes. A cavalier's long-spurred boots are pulled up to hide her shapely legs, and the curves of her hips and slender waist are obscured by the embroidered antique gold velvet overcoat and matching breeches. The decoratively slashed sleeves reveal the finely embroidered chambray shirt underneath, and a light, well-used rapier is belted at her waist. Her chaotic hair is, as always, barely restrained in a braid, and a cavalier's broad hat curls so as to hide half her face, the nodding ostrich plumes distracting an observer from the very fine features of the small face.
The house itself is magnificent, as richly decorated as is to be expected in the home of an aristocrat. The marble floors and rich wooden trim glow with polishing and fresh flowers decorate the enormous foyer. From that lovely room rises a magnificent double staircase. As Mikal asks the question, a pair of dogs that are about as far from being hunting dogs as a can be imagined. Tiny with broad delicate ears, their nails clatter across the floor like the gentle clatter of sleet on a glass window.
Raphael tilts his head, lowering it to sniff almost bemusedly at the little pets swirling about his sturdy legs, their tails wagging... then he raises his head and gives Mikal an ear-flattened look. She gives a tiny gasp of laughter, then shakes her head almost imperceptibly as she whispers to the big wolf-dog, "No, no, they're not food and we aren't going to end up domesticated like that -- I promise, Raph!"
Jareth's lips twitch as the tiny creatures sniff at Raphael and then go trotting off in a little pack. "They're pets, not hunting dogs. But there are hunting dogs on the estate. They're in the kennels."
Mikal has stiffened slightly against Jareth's side as they enter the house, and she straightens, slipping her hand from his arm so she's simply walking next to him at this point. Her glance around is wary and wide-eyed, despite the apparently confident small smile on her face, and she sticks close.
Jareth seems just as comfortable here as outside. As they move through the foyet, a manservant comes hurrying through after the dogs. He glances at Jareth and the apparent boy or young man with him and blinks, but then scurries off. The bard/scholar/goatherd begins to lead Mikal up the stairs, pointing out some of the artwork on the walls and telling her about the artists. They pass a couple of maids, both of whom duck their heads and dart glances at Jareth, blushing prettily. He greets them both warmly and introduces Mikal as his friend, Michel.
Mikal's chin remains loftily raised at the manservant's glance, but she nods gracefully to the two maids. Once they're passed, she whispers curiously to Jareth, "They actually talk to the servants here? -like they're people?!" Raphael trots heavily up the stairs, ignoring all the passing servants and unsurprised when he's carefully skirted by them.
Jareth arches a brow again as he opens the ornate door into quarters that are no so much a room as a small suite. "Well, I do. Because they are people. Many of them more gentle and kind and thoughtful than the nobles." He waits for Mikal to pass by him before he closes the door.
Mikal enters, glancing around warily. Raphael is less discreet -- he trots from room to room, checking them all out to see if anyone else is there. Mikal turns to face Jareth, standing in the middle of the room as she looks around, her hat shading her expression almost completely. Her voice is low and slightly bitter, "Some of the nobility are monstrous!"
The suite is three rooms. The sitting room has a sofa and two chairs, both richly upholstered, and several small tables. Thewalls are richly papered and hung with paintings and objet d'art. Between it and the bedroom is an open door, through which Mikal can see the large windows that look out onto the view of the garden Jareth mentioned. Through the bedroom is a dressing room that's nearly as big as Jareth's entire hut in Staunton. He nods in agreement, "Luckily, not those that reside here. They lack perspective, perhaps, but not compassion."
Mikal's shoulders hunch up a bit as she glances around herself... then when Raphael returns with the all-clear she sighs softly, reaching up to remove her broad hat. She smiles a bit tightly at Jareth, her eyes shadowed, and murmurs, "You always did love learning, mon chat. I am glad you are happy here. Do you know what called you?"
Jareth moves through the sitting room without pausing, heading for the bedroom. Besides the enormous bed itself, four postered and with heavy drapes around three sides, there is a plush window seat and several bookcases. He moves to draw the curtains open, making sure the room is a well-lit as it can be, "Called me?"
Mikal hesitates, then follows, although she pauses shyly in the doorway, looking around at the magnificent room in awe. Her voice is soft and abstracted, "Er... drew you? Like Ninshubur drew me to Akkadia, you know?"
Jareth stands by the window, hands clasped together in the small of his back, "I simply think I feel at peace here. In the Dreaming, there are many doubts and so many fears... and this place is peaceful. And it is where I became who I am."
Mikal steps almost silently in her boots to stand next to Jareth. She tosses her wide-brimmed hat onto the window seat as she glances out the window, then turns her head to look up thoughtfully into her packmate's face. Her voice is soft, almost musing, "Who are you, then?"
Jareth smiles and shrugs, "A lover of women. A lover of stories. An afficianado of beauty." He smiles and motions out the window to the statue of the woman and the snake as he mentions being an afficianado of beauty.
The statue is beautifully done, a lovely woman with a snake twined around her body and limbs. She seems unafraid of the creature. Jareth's face as he gazes at it is oddly pleased.
Mikal grins in sudden mischief, "Ah, so I was right to call you a lover of women to Ravana? You haven't talked to him yet, have you?" She turns to look outside, at the gesture... then blinks and falls silent, studying the statuary.
Mikal reaches out one small, gloved hand, as if she would touch it. Her fingertips rest on the diamond window panes for a moment before she recalls herself and pulls her hand back. Her voice is quiet, "That's truly striking, Jair. Did you sculpt her? Who is she?"
Jareth laughs and reaches to tuck a lock of Mikal's hair behind her ear, "Oui, ma cherie. But you have always known that about me." He laughs and shakes his head, "Moi? Non, non. I haven't the skill. Or, truth be told, the patience to create something like her." He lowers himself onto the window seat and his eyes are a little distant, "I have never been told the actual name of the piece, but there was a cleric visiting not long ago. He's one of the few that will stay here with Voltaire and Emilie's relationship so openly accepted. He saw the statue and I thought he was going to have apoplexy. He called her so many names..." Jareth's face seems somewhat hurt at that, "He called her the whore of Babylon and he called her a scarlet woman. He also called her Lilith." Smiling crookedly, he says, "I do not believe he's been back."
Mikal steps to stand behind the seated Jareth, pulling her gloves off and tucking them into her belt. She rests her hands on his shoulders -- a light touch, as if she's not sure whether she's being too forward or not -- as she murmurs softly, "Doubtless he would not like me either. Shall we be outsiders together, mon chat cheri, at least for a little bit?"
Jareth laughs and tips his head back to look at Mikal, lifting one of he rhand off his shoulder to kiss her palm. "I would follow you to the ends of the universe, ma belle. Outside or in."
Mikal's quietly grave expression softens into a shyly pleased smile, and she blushes as he kisses her hand. She struggles to control the stutter as she says carefully, "O-outside o-or inside what, m-mon beau chat?"
Jareth chuckles and nibbles the tip of a couple of Mikal's fingers, murmuring, "Whether we are outsiders or welcomed into the flock, my love."
Mikal shivers in spite of herself, her eyes going dreamily half-closed at how lovely the things Jareth is doing feel to her. "Uh... oh." She draws a shaky breath, then grins with a hint of rue, "You're messing with my head again, lovely Cat -- I can't think straight when you d-do things like that!"
Jareth smirks slightly and kisses the fingertips he'd been nibbing upon, "Should I apologize?"
Mikal's laugh isn't quite steady, and her free hand on his shoulder tightens a little, as if she's needing it for her balance. She shakes her head, "N-no, I..." She turns her face away, flushing hotly again as she whispers, "I -- I w-would l-l-like to, l-like to..." She takes a deep breath, then adds in a sudden, nervous rush of words, "l-liketogotob-bedw-withyouplease?!"
Jareth can't help a gentle laugh at his lover's flush and stutter, but it's an obviously loving sound and he turns to face her. His hands rest on her hips through the layers of clothing and he asks with mock concern, "Are you needing rest, my little love?"
Mikal keeps her face turned away, although he can see the rueful twist of her lips and the gleam of one eye through the riotous curl of her loose hair. She murmurs softly, "Don't... please don't make fun, Jareth? Th-thi-this is, is very... it's n-not easy for me, I'm sorry."
Jareth takes both her hands in his and kisses them, "I apologize, my love." He stands up, close enough that his clothes whisper against Mikal's the whole way, and gently turns her head so he can look into her eyes, "I would be honored to take you to bed." Leaning in, he kisses her forehead and then, moving as quickly as he can without seeming to lunge at her, he crouches and scoops Mikal up with one arm around her shoulders and one beneath her knees.
Mikal flinches slightly as Jareth rises, but doesn't step away. He can feel her tenseness as he touches her, and she gives a small, startled squeak as he picks her up, stiffening for a heartbeat -- then cautiously relaxing as he doesn't seem to mean any harm. Slowly, watching his face to see if he minds, she puts an arm about his neck to help support her slight weight. When he doesn't seem to mind, she sighs softly, relaxing even more, and leans her cheek against him.
Jareth smiles, but doesn't laugh at Mikal's squeak, no matter how adorable he finds it. It's only a few steps to the bed and he sets her down as carefully as he can, leaning over her for another kiss once he's got her settle, "Since you were brave enough to ask, mon lapin, you shall receive. Tell me, little love, what would best please you..."
Mikal blushes hotly again, glancing away before she leans forward to rest her forehead against his chest. Her voice is a bit breathless, "I... I d-don't know -- oh! C-could w-we, um... c-could we cuddle and touch s-some first?"
Jareth strokes Mikal's hair with both hands as she presses her face against his chest, voice gentle though she can feel that his heart is pounding a little, "Anything you wish..." His hands move to push her coat off her shoulders, "Shall we start with these off or on, sweetling?"
Mikal says, "A-and then m-maybe... mayb-b-be that th-thing you d-do with your t-t-t-tongue?" Her face is flaming red by the time she manages to get the words out, but she wriggles her shoulders enough to easily slide her arms out of the coat, adding hastily, "Uh, uh, off is f-fine!"
Jareth nods and continues carefully helping Mikal disrobe, "Oh, I can most definitely do that thing with my tongue." He leans down during the last few words and nibbles at one of Mikal's earlobes, using the barest tip of his tongue to flicker against it, a very intimate reminder of what she's asking.
Mikal is nervously focused on shedding her clothing as quickly as she can with Jareth's help, so she jumps and squeaks startledly again at the ticklish touch on her ear -- then turns bright red again, "S-s-sorry! It w-was n-n-nice, really -- you just st-t-tartled me!"
Jareth grins down at Mikal and steps back, "Perhaps I should step back a moment while you get undressed, then, because I keep wanting to touch you." Instead of touching her, he starts shedding his own clothes, letting them drop heedlessly to the rich carpet.
Mikal pauses, one heel still in her lap to pull off the long boots, and watches Jareth with a wide-eyed, almost longing intensity. When he's nude her gaze drops and she murmurs self-consciously, "Y-you're... you're so beautiful, Jair... I d-don't know how anyone could possibly not want to stay c-close to you forever, y-you know?"
Jareth goes carefully to his knees in front of Mikal and ducks his head to look up into her face, eyes very serious, "Thank you, love. But I ask myself the same thing about you."
Mikal laughs softly at that, her stormy-gray eyes meeting his with candor, "Oh, that's easy -- it's because I'm difficult to get along with! Most folks like living with all the amenities, you know? But me and Raph," she smiles ruefully, shaking her head, "I don't know... I guess it's just... well, places feel stifling after a while, you know? Everyone wants you to dress like you're imprisoned in your clothing, mince around in shoes that should be torture devices, talk about nonsense..." She looks away, shrugging one shoulder in unwittingly graceful self-consciousness, muttering, "Guess we j-just don't fit very well, y'know?"
Jareth sits back on his heels and picks up one of Mikal's feet, using his thumbs to gently stroke and massage the sole and the arch, "Never, ever torture yourself like that, then. Wear what makes you feel comfortable. You are most beautiful when you feel at home in your skin." He smiles and lifts her foot, playfully kissing the ticklish skin of the arch.
Mikal shivers and giggles despite herself at how ticklishly he's touching her -- then squeaks startledly again at the kiss. Her voice is breathless again as she reaches for him, still wriggling, "S-stop! Tickles!"
Jareth grins up at Mikal and says, "Ahh, then we will not be playing with your toes." When she reaches for him, he rises and moves to slide over her body, ending up on the other side of her atop the covers of the bed.
The movement was very carefully calculated to slide rather a lot of his skin against rather a lot of hers on the way.
Mikal hastily adds, "G-g-gotta get the b-breeches off-" She squeaks startledly again, starting to reflexively roll to one side as he suddenly moves over her, and accidentally nearly plastering herself against him. Once he's over her she sits up with a surprised look on her face, "Wh-what...?" She blinks once -- then realizes he's naked and she's not yet! She swiftly peels off the last bits of clothing she's wearing, then grins shyly and slides a bit hesitantly towards Jareth.
Jareth is on his back with the knee away from Mikal raised. When she starts to move toward him, he opens his arms to welcome her close to him, "Kissing and touching, yes, love?" His voice is a little husky and the way his eyes are wandering over her, he's very much enjoying the sight of her in the sunlight from the windows.
Mikal gives a small gasp of relief, then nods happily several times as she nearly flows into his arms. Her hair is a loose, curling tangle of soft brown silk with golden highlights; her pale skin glows like cream in the sunshine flooding into the room. She sighs softly, relaxing against him as she closes her eyes and rubs her cheek gently against his chest, wrapping herself around him and murmuring contentedly, "You always make me feel like home in your arms, pretty Jair..."
Jareth brushes kisses over Mikal's hair, admiring the way her pale skin looks against his own and letting his fingers explore the line of her back and down along her hip to her thigh before moving up against to slide them through the tangle of her hair, "That's because it's where you belong, ma cherie." His hands are lazily confident where they caress her and when they show her how to caress him. Mikal is, as always, rather a quick study and between the kisses and her happy discovery that she can make him gasp and arch just as eagerly as he can make her wriggle, Jareth has to gently disentangle himself before he can deliver on his promise to do "that thing with his tongue" that his sweet lover asked for.
Mikal is breathless and wonderfully flustered feeling by that point -- she actually has to think a bit before she remembers it's worth it to let Jareth disentangle!
After Mikal has recovered sufficiently, urged on by hungry little kisses and words of praise that are almost like a poem themselves, Jareth coaxes Mikal into stroking and caressing him. And when it comes time for him to lose himself to release, he pulls her close to moan his ecstasy into her mouth.
Mikal feels almost dazedly joyous again a short while later, holding her beloved close and feeling him warm and heated and relaxed against her. She has the oddest desire to weep -- she's never felt such an amazing, all encompassing joy before. It's like a tightness in her chest and a shimmering, trusting openness in her heart, as if she were a flower with her soft, brilliant petals completely opened for her honeybee's rest within her. She closes her eyes and leans her cheek against Jareth's chest again, hugging tightly as she murmurs in a slightly choked voice, "Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, Jareth!"
Jareth murmurs, "Oui, mon lapin, je t'aime, aussi. Avec toute mon ame." He sounds drowsy and content and smiles to himself, feeling that selfsame glow as a sense of homecoming.
Mikal blinks her eyes several times to get the tears under control again, a goofily happy grin on her face at Jareth's words as she does so. After that she's quite willing to cuddle close up against him for as long as he wishes. She doesn't know how Dreamtimes work, really... but if they mean she gets to make her lover feel wonderful -- and to feel wonderful herself too -- then she's all for them!
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