Fallen Leaves - Broken Dreams (Sweet and Wolf)

[SweetSerenade]

This time when Jareth touched Aisling, there was no flinching, instead she just stared at him as he wiped away her tears. He spoke about her father being special and she slowly slackened her nails on her arm. She took in a few shaking breaths, gulping down air as she tried to force herself to stop. "He was... He was special. My papa was a wonderful man, with a good heart." She said this as she tried to bolster herself, her eyes closing as she tried to remember the things he always had whispered to her. Things that had bolstered her, kept her happy as a child, the lessons he had tried to impart upon her. She couldn't stop herself from leaning into his touch though, something about it comforted her on levels she had not been comforted since her father.

She blinked, almost lazily for a moment as he spoke to her. "My birthright?" She asked softly as she kept her head cocked to the side. She blinked, shaking her head now as she tried to climb through the fog of the exhaustion she was going to get into if she didn't get herself moving. "It's strange... when you touch me... it feels like when Papa used to touch me. Your energy, it feels nice..." She said, shaking her head a little as she struggled to push herself to stand. She shuddered again, cheeks flushing as she tried to hide away the strange tingling that was building in her body. She knew what that feeling was, and it was something she could not focus on at the moment.

The touch of another should not spark her in such a way, even someone as powerful as him. Especially someone as powerful as Jareth. He was untouchable by a dirty human like her, she wasn't even sure why he was being so nice, but she was glad for even that small kindness. She took in a long breath, slowly exhaling as she tried to imagine that flame inside bursting to life. Instead, all she felt was a gentle sensation, the sensation like the first sights of buds blooming in spring. Her brow furrowed for a moment, as she shook her head. She stopped her thoughts and stared at him, he seemed to be asking her an important question.

"Nothing is as it seems, and you should pay attention to the little ones that speak to you. If you ask the right questions, you get the right answers. That you weren't always the King here, you came from elsewhere - and came to here and -" She stopped, zipping her lips for a moment, not speaking anymore as she stared over at the Labyrinth. "It looks like it's seen better days, though. It's colder and darker than what my father told me stories of. There aren't fairies buzzing around outside, or flowers peaking out here and there. He told me such colorful stories, fun stories, about the Labyrinth and it's King. The balls and parties... " Her smile softened as she thought of those precious memories.

She started laughing through, tears leaking at the corner of her eyes. "My father joked that he'd send me away to the Goblin King of I was too naughty, and that the King would keep me and make me his Princess...Me, a human, a Princess?"

[GreenWolf]

Jareth nodded his head upon her digression about her 'papa' being so wonderful.  He was sure of the truth of it, and knew, without her telling him, that this was a Sidhe lord who'd walked away from a family who was horrified with his decision to wed a human.  Such ties, while not forbidden, could be considered a lowbrow choice unworthy of those in high standing.  At least, among many of the older families who would rather wither and die before diluting their blood.  If this were the case, she would not be usable as a pawn, most likely.  This family of hers, who removed themselves from her life, wouldn't be interested in reclaiming a hybrid unless they had fallen into regret at the death of this child's father, or, if she turned out to be extraordinarily powerful.  Then, they would seek to grant her access to the family wellspring, but then, she would also be too important to release.  Of course, this was all conjecture, as there were many different reasons one might walk away, or be exiled, and he was fairly certain he wouldn't know the truth until he knew the who of it

Her words about 'Birthright' and 'Energy' were too close to the truth for his liking.  He wanted her to discover this part of her slowly, when the time was right, rather than him dumping over her head like a bucket of iced water.  As she struggled to stand, his hands left her attractive features behind to take hold of her hands and assist her upright.  There was no request, he simply moved to make her accept his aid.  "You will know, when you know, not before or after, so best to accept the ..."  And then, he felt it.  She'd taken his words literally, as he'd intended, and it wasn't fire, but something ... something betwixt the flames and the forest.  Or the snow and the forest ... The savage strength of new life, forcing its way free of unyielding bark or weighty dirt.  He caught the spark behind those glowing, acidic-green eyes.  If he hadn't been touching her, even with his gloves on, he would have missed it.

He was surprised into silence, considering this information.  She was reciting her remembered lessons, and they were quality words to recall.  Jareth's mind was elsewhere, however, though he heard enough to know this, whoever he was, had known him personally.  Tempted to ask a name, though silly, as he'd never have used his real one.  Instead, his thoughts drifted to those budding energies.  The likelihood of his initial guess made sense for a Summer child, those Sidhe who humans, with their tiny minds and smaller perceptions, oft mistakenly believed to be the 'good side' of the 'Faerie Conflict.'  There was no conflict, there was a cycle and all sides were balanced, or should be balanced.  It just so happened that the Seeleigh were often self-righteous little shits.  Summer, cycles from Spring, cycles from Winter ... Winter, the hibernation of ... no, the death of life.  Fires purify, but they destroy, burn away, like cutting a rotting limb from an otherwise healthy host.

"Aisling."  He began, not answering the rhetorical.  "Forget about the fires.  Focus on Winter.  Imagine that wretched man.  Take your power back.  You've defeated him, stabbed him, left him to die.  Take back what he took from you, and with each new sensation of rectifying his theft, see his corpse fade in hue. Watch the grain of gnarled wood spread over his flesh as it turns into a dried up husk of little more than driftwood.  He has no power over you, none, except what you give him, so take it all back.  When you are finished, and satisfied with your retrieval, realize that his shell has always been your prison.  You didn't draw the energy out of him, but deeper in, where you are trapped.  A warm, throbbing center of power inside this human cage.  But only he was affected by Winter.  You.  You, Aisling.  Imagine yourself as Spring, the way the buds of new growth would fight free from the Death.  Never wasting it, that death feeds the growth, tempers and nourishes it."

He released her hands suddenly and took two steps away from her, towards the maze, throwing his hands up as he spoke.  Sweeping gestures that ended presenting her with her challenge.  "If you assist a bird from it's egg, it will never be able to fly.  You are not that bird, Aisling, and this is not your world.  Learn the new rules of your new existence.  Make this your world.  You need to see yourself struggle free from the confinement, and burst forth from shattering timber, a floral phoenix reborn in all of Spring's glory.  BE a force of nature, Aisling.  Elemental.  Carnal.  And then move your ass and face my Labyrinth!"  Not adding an adjective to 'ass' was more difficult than it should have been.  He was confident that she had the tools and weapons she needed, she just had to find the strength to move forward, one step in front of the other.

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling looked over her shoulder, as he had bidden her, the image of the clock appearing in her mind. She sighed as she shook her head. She was wasting precious time, she wondered of the Labyrinth would be harsh with her, or gentle. Her father had told her the stories about this place, and from the books - the books. She stopped and stared at the books still looped in one of her arms. Shifting enough to open her backpack to slip them inside. Jareth had told her to bring them, not give them to her. A small part of her wondered if she could use them as a bargaining chip with him. Well that was definitely a new way of thinking, why was she thinking in such a manner?

"Alright, I'll know when it's time." She stated softly as she rolled her shoulders back, he had helped her stand and that was a wonderful thing for him to do. But she was starting to get concerned with all the little things he was doing for her, would he expect repayment of some kind? She shifted the bag back into place, looking at the Labyrinth below. She had already wasted almost an hour of the 13 he had given her. But she wondered why the clock looked like it was changing color. Now that she noticed it, there was more color around, and she wondered why the clock looked like it was struggling to make time move.

She pursed her lips, and closed her eyes - the desire to have more time for all of this - washing through her. "Forget about Fires..." She murmured this, and his words wrapped through her, she lost herself to the thoughts he brought up. The images bursting in her mind, she realized that there was a stickiness on her hand, from the blood that had gotten on her, and all she could do was stare at it for a moment as she opened her eyes. As she watched it seemed like the blood was fresh again, the blood of Nathaniel, the man that had wronged her. But even as she focused on it her eyes drifted shut, and she felt that strange wash of energy through her again.

In her fear she shook her hand, blood slipping from her and - washed away by strangeness. She shuddered as she felt the rumble of something from deep within her, or what she thought was deep within her.

His imagery was used, but it came up much stronger than either of them could of imagined. Instead of her letting go, and new life savagely bursting from her - beneath her feet a Willow Tree burst up from the ground, causing her to screech in surprise as she was thrown off her footing and started to roll down the hill in shock. She landed in a crumpled heap of confusion, her chest pressed to the ground and a pant leaving her as she slowly pushed herself up. When she looked behind her all she could see was the green rippling down the hill and flowers coming up.

"I h-Have to go..." She said, something pulling her up, her breath ragged for a moment - exhaustion rippling through her features as she turned tail and ran from him. Ran from him and the confusion of the Tree and green covered hill. Ran to the door, rust falling away from her fingertips as soon as she brushed it - throwing her weight into it, vanishing into the corridor of the Labyrinth.

Behind where she had been, the wood of the door changed and morphed weeping and fresh as if newly made, metal gleaming and the rocks more firm as green things burst from between to blanket the first few feet around the door with new growth.

But Aisling would neither see or understand this change, only Jareth and the other Fae nearby would come to feel and understand it.

[GreenWolf]

Jareth grinned from ear to ear as Aisling focused her attention inward, taking his words to heart and investing herself fully into the dream she created and breathed life into.  "Good girl," he breathed, "Very good."  She was a natural, and it would come easily to her once she realized its existence.  What he hadn't expected, or realized was happening, was the blood she'd fed into her working.  Her offering of it to the ground after bringing it into her working shot rivers of power into the mix that he never could have accounted for.  Whether the donor had died or not, blood was blood and as it landed against the dusty lands, they drank up the speck eagerly, thirsty for more.  She'd woken up this snoozing Demesne repeatedly as it nodded off waiting for something interesting.  Now, she'd fed it.  She didn't know it, but the lands took notice of her after that little appetizer.  Out of dark corners and cracks, small pairs of eyes and furry ears or heads began to peek out with curiosity, watching.  They hadn't made it into the human world to collect the self-offered offering, but they were crawling out to investigate now.

Rumbles from beneath surprised Jareth, eyes and mouth growing wide as he realized what strangeness this was for himself.  He should have known this little quake was coming, and the fact that he did not said more than he wanted to consider at present.  Those popping-up peepers and fuzzy noggins vanished from sight, chittering and screeching.  "Be careful!"  Jareth snapped, a warning, but to whom, it was unclear, and no one could have known to watch downwards for projectiles!  Aisling was rolling down the hill, the ground that had been beneath her feet had cracked and parted, breaking open and rising out if it's space to fall to the wayside, making room for sudden plant growth.  A tree was growing in high speed, rising up out of the earth and thickening a bark outer shell over greenery, while long, feathery strands sprouted high up to arch out and down, all around it.  A weeping willow, branches already swaying back and forth, as if from the breeze and not the extreme growth spurt, stood tall and full, just to the side of the path leading down to the Labyrinth.

Speechless, he watched as she spoke, as did the re-emerging goblins.  Life was returning, though much greener and brighter than it should have been.  The laughing creatures of chaos thought this was a great thing, spotting how even the brick face of the twisting walls took on a hue and definition that had not been there previously, but only changing where she passed within a certain distance, so that Aisling was leaving a trail behind her.  A trail of promise for a future for this realm.  It wasn't just the natural world, but the constructed wall and doorway, both of which appeared to have been power washed, mended, and scraped free from of rust.  To Jareth, it represented something different, and he began to wonder if more was going on than he'd realized.  The lot of them were all gone, moments later, Sarah through the restored doorway and the others, who knew where?  leaving the outer edge vacant as fluffy storm clouds rolled in overhead.  Oh, Jareth was still watching, to be sure, but she wouldn't see him.  Not unless he wished her to.

Inside the Labyrinthine corridors, Aisling would be immediately struck by the knowledge that something was missing.  Looking down to the left, there did not appear to be any turns or openings.  She'd have to run down some more to be sure, but it looked a lot like a stone, ceiling-less hallway.  The perspective was trippy, like looking at a picture of a street and everything just shrinks and closes in towards a center dot in the middle of the page like a singularity.  If she looked in the other direction, she would see the exact same thing.  Oh sure, it wasn't exactly the same, as the bricks may have been in different conditions, dying brown vines strewn across wall and floor were in different places, even the dusting of snow, just a sprinkling really, looked different, but it was a straight, straight, line.  Not much of a maze, really.  By this point, if she tried to backtrack?  Yeah, the door she'd entered in ... Totally gone. 

Because: Of course it was.

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling panted, her back against the door and eyes closed partially. She was giving herself a moment to focus about what had just happened. She shook her head again, frowning softly as she pulled the feather cloak tighter around her body. She drew in a long breath, pulling a bottle of water from her bag - and began to walk. It seemed like it was taking her forever, but she had a weird feeling it wasn't that long at all. The moment she looked back for the door - it was gone. But that was just the way of this place. She knew this wasn't going to be easy, the books and stories had never pointed to it being easy.

She tucked her water bottle back into her bag, carefully she patted the wall and started to check for any optical Illusions. She puffed her cheeks in frustration, as she realized that she wasn't finding any. "Alright, quick break to think." She said as she leaned her back on the part of the wall she had just been searching. "I need to figure out what the challenge is. That's what this entire place is built for." She said this aloud as she rubbed her forehead, frowning a little more as she closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

She started thinking about everything that had happened since the moment of strangeness had even started. She thought about the stories she was remembering, she thought about her father. She distracted herself from that vile feeling, the feeling of being used - when she had been forced to do something she hated. When that man had hurt her, for some reason she was a bit tired - but was ok with the feeling of letting go of what had happened. It was still there, burning and making the warmth that her thoughts had grown from not that long ago.

She thought about the strange feeling she had gotten from when Jareth touched her. Her eyes closing as she pressed her fingers to her face for a moment. "Papa, I'm in the Labyrinth you spoke so fond of... but I doubt what you said is true. The Goblin King would never want someone as broken as me." She murmured as she let her fingers slide down her cheek. The blood on her hand was gone, there was nothing left of Nathaniel... except for that ghost-like slimy feeling.

[GreenWolf]

"Excuse me!" called down a gruff voice from a few feet away.  "Could y'do yer ESPering elsewhere?  Some of us are tryin' to work here!"  Kids today, I swear.  A few feet past where she stood, there was a quite tall and slender male climbing around the side of the wall as if it was normal.  Long, straight locks of spiderweb-grey were haphazardly tied back into a ponytail, while strands hung loose and wispy all around his head, again, like gossamer webbing.  He wore darkened goggles on his wrinkled face, though they were pushed up onto his forehead, revealing bulging, black eyes that seemed to be multifaceted.  That wasn't the strange part.  Aside from the two long arms and slender legs, the four limbs ending in bare digits clinging to the wall, he had four other arms!  These extra limbs gave the spiderling an insane reach and they did not seem to mind working backwards from the main body.

In one of those hands was a long, white quill, in the second, an inkwell.  He would dip the quill carefully and begin drawing in the air above the ground below him.  Squares became cubes and then his two remaining limbs would heft the block and shove a carved stone brick into a place on the wall that was missing a block or crumbled.  When drawn, it was just an outline, but by the time he had it ready for insertion, it would grow solid and dense.  He appeared to be fixing the wall, as of now there were but a few left to gaze through, and none through which she would be able to fit.  The Mason crawled along the wall, easily enough, clinging to the rock face while waiting on his other limbs to complete their tasks.

The wall had not looked like that before she closed her eyes.  In fact, where he was had been dim, quite washed out and devoid of color, but then, Aisling had not reached there yet, but stopped just before it.  Now, it was quite tan, that masonry, vibrant and sandy looking, as much as the man himself appeared to be bright with his shiny, black overalls that looked almost like a carapace.  As she watched, she would see her influence spreading slowly down the corridor like spilled paints washing the world in color.  Though she had stopped, whilst standing, it had flooded forth down the path and brought the Labyrinth to life.

The spiderling mason slipped, calling out and dropping both quill and block, though the ink remained upright.  Those long, extra arms reached out for the wall to stabilize himself, and once steady, retrieved his dropped items and returned to work.  He spit into the hole, making horrible noises as he brought up the necessary fluids and launched them against the sides of the opening.  The dropped block was shoved into the rectangular hole with a loud grating noise, the saliva becoming the grout which held it in place.  The ink or the quill, one was responsible for the three dimensional blocks and their becoming real.

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling visibly startled at the voice that spoke to her, her eyes widening as she pushed off of the wall in surprise. She took a few steps back and started looking around her, noticing the male - and the differences around her. "ESP-... OH... Telepathy? No, I wasn't... I don't have that. I'm s-... I was... just... talking aloud to myself... Well sort of... My father is dead... I just sometimes 'talk to him' when I'm feeling really stressed." She said as she ran her fingers through her bangs, undoing her hair and letting it fall before putting it back up in a quick ponytail. She observed her area a bit better this time, noticing the color that was crawling in all directions around her.

"Wow, I guess it's coming to life..." She mused as she took a few steps down and then turned back around, noticing the guy was filling in a hole that hadn't been there before. "I guess the Labyrinth moved me to another location. How impolite of me. I'm Aisling Nox..." She said as she swept a polite bow to the male. It was actually a Fae courtly bow, one her father had taught her - though she didn't know it was tied to the Fae.

She didn't even know her own genetics it seemed, hell she didn't even realize how much her father had prepared her for. "I seek to reach the center of the Labyrinth, and accomplish the challenges ahead of me. Would you be willing to broker a barter for assistance in which direction I might go from here?" She asked as she watched curiously as the man worked his saliva into a solution that was used to place the bricks on the wall.

"Wow, has anyone ever told you how absolutely fascinating it is to watch you work?" She asked, then went to move to help him recover his dropped items, slowly withdrawing her hand as he picked them up. Her cheeks flushing as she tucked her head down. She felt like she had done something wrong, even though she had not. "If not, it's alright... I can just keep walking and see what I can manage on my own."

[GreenWolf]

The Spiderling Mason nodded his head without looking away from what he was doing and while his replies were faded, as if he weren't paying attention, he answered her correctly.  "Necromancer then, ey?  You don't smell like death magic though."  He lifted his little jar of Ink and moved it back and forth, sloshing it around.  "My Da be in here, or some of him.  I don't talk to it though, he doesn't have ears in here."  He stopped to laugh, "No ears in here to hear ... Nope, just blood and bone and powder."  He dipped his Quill into the mouth of the jar, placing the pointed tip against the brick wall and scribbled over a chipped place, filling it in with brick as if it were water.  "His had his father, and backwards so on.  He is a part of the Labyrinth, as his father was, and his father, and his father, and eventually, me as well.  Living on forever in these hallowed walls.  How's that for a bit of Necromancy, hmmmm?" 

Moving back through his work, it was almost as though he'd dismissed her, but he continued to speak as he built the wall back up.  He suddenly shook his head, "It's always been alive, just been sleeping.  It's waking up."  The last block didn't fill the entire rectangle correctly, and he was immediately looking over the gap that remained as one of his normal hands left the wall to let dusty fingers rub his chin, leaving smudges.  "Nox, ey?  Humans and their silly surnames.  Well, Lady Nox, the Labyrinth doesn't move you, it moves AROUND you.  But no, in this case, I watched you approach, you just didn't see me."  He hastily scrawled a smaller section of wall and slid it into the space, filling the emptiness with ease.  It didn't look right, however, the pattern not fitting with the rest of the section, but he brushed the feather down the line between gently, and it vanished, out of two, creating one, perfectly shaped block.

"Broker a barter?" he asked and his eyes lit up.  He lowered to the ground, ending on all fours, or eights, and began to move towards her in a loping, rolling gait as six of the legs were involved.  Neither inkwell nor feather filled grasp wished to damage their burden.  "That is an interesting phrase for a human to speak, isn't it?"  As he moved closer, his body bowed forward in a reply to her courtly bow, though late in the giving, and an answering name.  "You may call me 'Larrach.'  It is as good a name as Ash-ling.  That isn't your true name, however, is it?  Neither is mine, as names have power."  His gemstone like eyes, as he grew closer, weren't as entirely singular as she first thought, but a multitude of eyes that stuck together, bulging out as if on raised mounds beneath, studying her.  "You don't even know your name, do you?"

"Though ... Nox, Nox.  That could be a good name.  Nox.  Nyx?  No.  Nox knocks.  Nox knocks.  Is it short for 'Knocker' or 'Equinox?'"  This time he did turn to face her, his head tilting to one side as shimmery bug-eyes took her in more directly.  "Do you even have anything to 'Broker a Barter' with?  Goblin City is at the center of the Labyrinth, a destination as much as anywhere else.  Here, before you enter the Labyrinth, is also a destination.  The journey is where the danger lies, as when a fly, into a spider's web, flies.  That web could have been visible to the fly, it was shimmering with dew.  Perhaps the trick is in watching the journey, rather than the destination, like you."  He paused suddenly, lifting the feather quill and bringing it towards her throat.  "Don't move.  You smell like dew on a spider's web ... "  The point of the quill, wet with ink, a droplet just too small to fall, clinging to it's sharpened point, did not head towards her throat, but towards her collar bone, where the owl-feather cloak rested upon her body.  He appeared ready to draw upon her or it.

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling kept her face as close to neutral as possible, a spark of confusion in her eyes as he spoke about Necromancer. "No, I'm not a Necromancer. I'm just a human, as far as I know." She said with a laugh, though who knew what she might turn into the longer she was here in this strange world. But she was going to stay here, as soon as she finished the Labyrinth. She straightened up a bit more, listening to the Spiderling talk about his family. Her head cocked to the side.

"I suppose you are right, it's waking up. But can one quester really wake up something this powerful?" She asked as she rocked back on her heels, her hands folded in the small of her back - laced under her bag - as she listened to the Spiderling. "It was my father's Surname... and it means Night in Latin." She said, a bit of pride in her eyes as she rolled her shoulders back and grinned. "Though, I've not met any of my father's family. My mom said that his family didn't like her much." Shit, she was talking too much, why was she more driven to being open and talkative in this place. She frowned, her hand coming up so her fingers can press against her lips now.

She watched him drop down, not moving as he approached. He offered his name and she smiled shyly. "A pleasure, 'Larrach...and Aisling is the only name I have known." She said as she cocked her head to the side and listened to him speak about her not knowing her name. "Well if you mean secret name, papa said I wasn't supposed to get mine till I was a proper adult. A special thing his family used to do where an adult of the family was given a secret name. So all I've known is Aisling, since my papa passed away a long time ago."


"I have something to broker a barter with." She said as she pushed her hand out - drawing in a deep breath and reaching for the small bone pocket knife in her backpacks side pouch. It had been a gift from her father when she was tiny. She mostly used it for clipping and pruning flowers. "How about the Blood of a Virgin? Your ink uses blood, I have heard the blood of virgins is especially powerful for magic?" She asked as she rocked back on her heels.

"The blood of a virgin. That is what I have to offer." With that the woman stood stock still, eyes wide as 'Larrach's quill descended further and further.

[GreenWolf]

Larrach's head bobbed as she spoke with him taking in her words with little comment until she explained the etymology of 'Nox.'  His mouth moved a few times, as if he would speak, but words never came from those lips, though if she were looking, she might note his cheeks appeared to be holding furry fingers within, moving against the sides of his mouth as if they might sneak forward.  No, not fingers, mandibles.  He was more spider, but hidden within.  Behind those, were probably fangs, like a spider, lying in wait for the mandibles to reach out, grasp something, and pull it into those waiting teeth.  Somehow, it didn't cause him to sound like he had a dick in his mouth, but it must have been the magic of what he was.  Or maybe just simple practice. 

"'Nox' means," and he began to draw upon her.  More precisely, he began to draw just in front of her, the quill only making contact with either end of the cloak she wore.  "Your people came to a new country unable to speak the language,"  he spoke slowly, focused upon his task, "and answered a question wrong when they were asked what their name was."  He finished whatever he was doing, and drew the quill back, watching as something he'd designed that she couldn't see, fell heavily against the front of her collar bone.  It felt like metal.  "Silly humans.  There, pride in your name gives it power too, I suppose.  But it isn't like the clans names." 

The mason's reaching hand paused, the quill not quite leaving the area he was sketching, as his eyes lifted to her words.  "Offers of blood?  Perhaps, perhaps.  I would like a taste, but your human blood is too thin for ..."  He paused, his tongue slipping free to lick over his lips, "Wait ... Nox ..."  He shoved the quill into her hands, the tip dry from his work on her collar, "Test it.  Draw something.  If your blood works, if you can create with your blood, then we can 'Broker a Barter.'  Otherwise, should you wish me to point you in the right direction, perhaps a taste of virgin blood will suit my needs.  Blood for directions."  He nodded his head, "Don't mind the clasp.  That is given in return for the compliment."

If she didn't take the quill, three of his hands would catch hers, placing it in her fingers, his hands closing around hers to hold it correctly.  "Simple, simple, Nox Knocks.  Imagine what you want in the multitude of eyes in your head, see it there.  Picture it from all angles.  See its width, length, breadth, even it's edges.  Make it real, and something not perfect, because nothing is perfect in reality.  Give it flaws and give it power."  He released her hand, letting her have control of the quill.  "Do not jab the quill into your arm, do not even jab it into the wound.  Have the blood separate of you, where the quill can't suck all of it from your body."  Pleasant warning, that.

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling was getting surprise after surprise in this place, so it seemed. She shivered as the spiderling's face did a strange little dance with the internal mandibles that were hidden against his cheeks. Her own cheeks flushing for a moment as she realized he had drawn a clasp upon the cloak that Jareth had gifted her. She half wondered if it had strange properties like the Owl feather cloak, but she was going to shift away from those thoughts as she needed to be especially careful of letting her mind wander too far.

She did not respond as he spoke about her family name, feeling deep inside that the Spiderling was right - but all together wrong at the same moment - so she did not speak out against his words. It was going to be hard, remembering to talk less - and be careful of her words. But she stiffened as the quill was pushed into her hands and she listened to him speaking about the quill. She adjusted herself, turning towards the wall. Her brows furrowed as she kept the quill perched between the fingers of her left hand - yes left hand - and then used the tip of the knife to draw a line in the palm of her left hand. With that she moved the quill to be held between her fingers of her left hand, and squeezing her left hand into a fist to drip the blood into her right palm.

For writing she was dominant in the right hand, but for art - art was her left. She dipped the tip into the blood pooled on her right hand and started to let the image inside of her mind spill across the bricks - like the magic it was. The layering was finely detailed, starting with the frame of the door - old hewn wood. Aging and dimples, it was the door from her dreams - the dreams she had been having the last few years. But she now imagined that the door would lead her somewhere, as the aged wood and whorling designs broke free and to life across the stone work. The wooden door seemed to take on a life of its own, shimmering light faintly leaking around the edges.

She seemed almost in a trance as she continued the work, dipping in her hand and then drawing on the stones. She imagined the door would lead her deeper into the Labyrinth, that it would lead her to the next trial she needed to face. She had plenty of time left, and perhaps she could take a small break at her next stop. Who knew, maybe the Labyrinth might be giving enough to allow her at least a half hour rest. She was exhausted already, and drawing the door only seemed to exhaust her more.

She finished with the handle of the door, imagining the entire thing more as a 3D drawing - to make her mind work towards the handle, which seemed to come free. There on the door was an emblem emblazoned, of a simple budding rose surrounded in twisting thorned vines. It was a symbol she remembered her father had on several pieces of jewelry.

Slowly she pulled her hand away - breathing a deep sigh as she came out from the drawing trance to look at Larrach. "A return gesture... you may still have some of my blood. I will limit it to what you can collect by placing your mouth on the wound for no longer than ten seconds." She wasn't even sure why she was so specific with it, but something told her to be. "Just your mouth, or tongue, no teeth allowed."

"Given in return for the gift of letting me craft this door."

[GreenWolf]

That door began to swing open on it's own, the moment she finished speaking the terms of her offer.  Larrach was already watching her closely, however, from the moment he'd given her the quill.  In fact, just before that.  'Wait ... Nox ...' had not been him telling her to wait, it had been the recognition of the name, the realization that she could be more than mere human, and that name could indeed hold a sort of power that he hadn't expected.  The power of that blood had been what he'd been testing when he shoved the feather into her hands and given her instructions.  She shouldn't have been able to use the quill in this way, none of the Fae should have, but for Spiderlings.  Her father had been able to mirror magics, however, and when she showed herself able to construct the door, he knew everything he needed to know.  His face was alight as she completed it and spoke her bargain.

"You don't even know this door, do you?"  He said in a whisper, watching her face with that abundance of eyes.  "In the center of the Labyrinth, alongside the Goblin Palace, in the light of the morning, and the shadow of the afternoon, there is a keep."  His hands took hold of her wrist, drawing it to his mouth as his lips parted towards that crimson gift.  A long, thick, black spike began to force its way free of those cracking lips, curling down as it reached closer.  His tongue, it would turn out, was not what one would expect.  He spoke around the protrusion, his words clear enough to be understood, "Blood of a She?"  And then sure enough, he took the 'blood of she,' whatever the hell that meant, maybe her being female made that virginal blood more potent.  He stuck to her rules, and his teeth were not involved.

The tongue wrapped around her arm, drawing it close enough for large, furry mandibles to force their way out of his widened mouth, latching on to hold the limb still.  That tubular tongue lapped at the wound, its pointed tip threatening to dig deeper into the wound, but the ten seconds had passed.  Behind her shoulder, the grandfather clock suddenly chimed an odd string of sounds, not the marking of an hour, but the threatening clamor of her time piece demanding her release.  Larrach fell away from her at that assaulting sound, tongue waggling forth from between the arching mandibles that seemed to wiggle outside coordination.  As the spiderling fell back, he struck the wall and tumbled down with a shriek, sprawling out on the paved stone.

"Well, well, Larrach."  Jareth said, from where he stood casually in the opened door, leaning against the doorjam.  "I've never seen you strike a deal with a human for their blood.  What have you discovered, I wonder?"  Larrach's screeching ceased as he looked upwards towards the Goblin King, standing there, in that 'tween place betwixt this path and the next.  "You agreed to 10 seconds, spider.  I'm fairly certain, you have gone over your limit, but I don't need to know for sure, only you do."  In a panic, Larrach attempted to draw with his quill, and nothing.  His magic was gone, at least for the nonce.  A keening whine as he realized it, "Bad form, Spider."  Jareth commented, "Bad form.  I suppose you'll not be useful to me until the moon cycle has passed again thrice over, so what will we do with you until then ... ?"

He turned to look upon Aisling as if he hadn't noticed her before.  "Tick tock, Little Aisling.  Tick tock."  Long arching fingers lifted into a spider-like shape, fingers wiggling in all directions, "Scurry along, Aisling.  You've made your grand entr ..."  Jareth finally noticed the sigil upon the door, and the door itself, whose twin was in the Goblin City.  There was a moments pause, as he stepped back from the door, watching it with eyes wide and mouth open.  There was plenty of room for her to shove past him and down the next pathway.

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling was quiet as she watched the spiderling, those acidic green eyes seemed to flash with something else for a moment. Using the magic, his magic, had awakened something strong within her. She figured she could just do it because virgin blood was powerful, and something as ancient as the labyrinth probably didn't have very many virgins grace it. But that flash in her eyes was almost like a dark mirror - swirling with specks of gold and silver. It really was the blood of a Noble in her veins, or perhaps the blood of a once Royal. Who were the Nox? Who were they truly descended from. Even the eldest of Fae couldn't remember where the six - now seven generations of the Nox had originally come from.

Aisling was the Seventh Generation of Nox, the Seventh Generation of 'Night'. Though many would not acknowledge her as such, since she was a half-blood, but not even she knew her true descent. She remained calm, still as the Spiderling began to wrap his tongue around her arm. She had told him ten seconds placed upon the wound - and she found herself quietly counting within her mind as his tongue wrapped up her arm and moved closer and closer. "Do not tarry too long, Spiderling, the Darkling Throne does not like when those who are of them break their vow." She whispered this, but in that moment it truly wasn't her voice. It was like something much older was speaking through her, older - darker - ancient.

But it seemed Aisling did not even realize this, for she found herself cringing as she brought her free arm up with the bone knife - as if on instinct. The clock chiming a chime of warning, she could feel it shivering deep in her spine, as she felt the bone knife warm in her palm - almost vibrating with a strange anger. Carefully she clenched her hand around the knife and started to raise it higher, but the Spider was suddenly skittering away from her and she was blinking away the haze. Acid green eyes turned towards him, as she listened to Jareth speak. She shivered from that voice, something from inside of her reaching out - like a cat trying to caress against something of warmth.

She pulled back, the knife going back into it's little bone sheath, and then tucked into her waist as she listened to Jareth. "Leaving him to the wiles of the Labyrinth should be punishment enough." She said suddenly as she stared across at the Spiderling. "It was me he brokered and broke the deal with. I upheld my part, and I was honest in what I did. He was the one that attempted to do more than he should. The blood of a virgin should not cause one's mind to falter that much."

She shook her head a little, still coming out of that faze. Her eyes sliding over the spiderling and Jareth. She stared at the door, smiling as she reached out to stroke her finger across the emblem. "Father had jewelry with this marking on it. It makes me remember him. I think I still have... " She stopped digging into her bag and pulling out a thick twisting band of black metal. It was a man's ring, but would easily fit on her thumb, and she found her thumb tracing over the mark that was matching to the door - carved into a simple black stone. "Father used to wear this, mother gave it to me after he died."

"Oh, yes, the clock is ticking - but it seems... Goblin King, that your Labyrinth likes me." With that she put her hand on the archway of the door, feeling that strong thrum that rushed through her. "Betwixt Twilight and night... The light of the thorned rose...From underhill and over wings... comes the Nox and his hunt." She murmured, laughing softly as she remembered the silly little thing her father used to say to her. She was saying things without meaning to, but it was like the words were forcing her out. "My father told me a story about a place... that could only be reached with a special door... What lies beyond this door?"

[GreenWolf]

Jareth was mystified, least of all by the fact that Aisling was still just standing there jabbering on rather than racing ahead to try and beat the clock.  Her words were not nonsense, however, but clicked memories into life within his mind, stirring the cauldron of the past and spitting up droplets of Nox.  Lysander Nox.  It could be none other, with his knowledge of the Labyrinth and this incredible rendition of his stronghold's door.  Lysander Nox's child had somehow gone unnoticed, unknown about, and wandered into his life with no one the wiser, not even Jareth. 

It was not true, of course.  Someone had to know of her existence.  There would be Sidhe lords of a court or three who were well aware of a human mother, and if Aisling's story is to be believed, at least some of these family must have disowned the man and his childer, perhaps even ... It is not unheard of, Regicide, that is, Prince or not.  That the girl was allowed to live meant either the assassin(s) failed to return or someone kept her alive for a reason.  Muddied blooded humanlings were not what these old families wanted to share tree limbs with.

And now, here she stood, reciting Lysander's own words from her mouth.  His mouth, in a way.  She did bear some of his features, now that he thought to look her over, uncharacteristically quiet as she recited memories of words told her as a child.  Perhaps even more, as the voice wasn't always, exactly, hers.  She could have been channeling something far older, something that seemed to be paying attention to the events within the walls of his Labyrinth, his Labyrinth which did indeed seem to be fond of her.  Perhaps too fond.  Larrach writhed forgotten in the background, all but ignored, her suggestions unanswered.

"T'is the right door, or rather, the correct door, that you are speaking of, Aisling, however, it is in the wrong location.  Location usually matters little, but sometimes, it is most important.  In this case, such is so.  In the center of my Labyrinth. alongside the Goblin Castle, you will find a small fortress that disguises itself as a home.  A home that disguises itself as a fortress.  It doesn't matter which, but know it is a home, not a house, though dark its hearth has been for many a year.  The doorway inside bears this symbol, in exactness."  He paused, lifting a hand towards the opened door.  "In this case, perhaps the next corridor?"

It was difficult to see through the doorwar, it could have held infinite blackness like a portable hole, but Jareth lifted his left hand, a sweeping gesture towards the opening, and it began to show a world past the threshold that shimmered and shook, and then vanished into nothing.  "To discover what is beyond the door, one must step through it.  Will it be the next hall past this unpassable wall or will it be somewhere else entirely?"  He held a smirk upon those lips of his, half amused, half disdaining, "You will not find out the truth without taking a step through, Aisling."

Could she be his kith and kin?  He would watch and see what he would see, would discover the truth when the truth wished to be found.  Until then, close to the chest.  She didn't need to know what he suspected until he was sure it was true.

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling was still staring at the door, taking in the swirling darkness within the doors confines. She blinked a few times, her normal coloration returning to her eyes as she just stood there and wondered what the cost of such an item would be. Nothing without a price... "Ah... so... I see." She whispered as she pressed her hand against the door again. Wearing her father's ring, seemed to bring a sense of peace to her as her eyes drifted over the frame of the door. "Next corridor? Well one could hope. I need to go deeper, not further out - and I think your labyrinth would find a way to send me back without me having gone forward."

Yes, she was quite good at the Fae way of speaking to explaining things. Even though she was in the first corridor, she was sure the Labyrinth could do that if it pleased. She smiled back at him now, her head bowing down. "Your information is appreciated, Jareth. I wish you well." With that she plunged through the door.

She was scared, sure, but she was excited, making it through all this meant she'd never have to worry about returning to the human realm. It meant that she'd have a life, a home, a chance at falling in love and finding love.

This excitement bubbled through her as she worked her way through the doorway. The transportation was a strange feeling, getting dizzier as she walked - and realized that finally she could 'see' in a sense. It was a half twilight moment, till a cloud cleared the - wasn't it daylight for her before? She looked over her shoulder to see the clock had only moved five minutes. "No, that's right...sometimes the light changes based on the parts..." She murmured her father's words about this strange place.

There was a gorgeous lake, with rock outcroppings and sand. She noticed the strange little blossoms popping up as she walked towards the water and sat down. Something about this lake, with it's glorious full moon, and the slightly swaying trees  on the edges, reminded her about a story from her father. "Far in the reaches, internal and apart... lays the Corsair's lake, the one who lost their heart. With a single kiss, a gift from mother fair, he can keep others from ever knowing despair."

Perhaps that was the case in this moment. She sat down, feeling utterly exhausted, praying to the Labyrinth for a moment. "I know I have a specific number of hours to complete this in, but can you stretch time enough I can rest and regain my energy, I'm only human and that portal drained much from me..." She murmured to it as she opened her bag and pulled out a small paper bag that was full of jerky. At least she could have a snack, right?

What she was unaware of is that she was closer to the center of the Labyrinth's strange twisting world, and by going from point A to B - her essence had spread as a thick line between the door and this point. Resulting in snaking trails of her energy fastly spreading through the parts of the Labrythin she had zipped right through.

[GreenWolf]

As she said the word, 'Corsair,' bubbles began to rise up from amidst the lake, far from shore.  If she was watching, it was unmistakable.  Something seemed to respond to her memory.  Though a lake, the air was full of the scents of the ocean, being of salt water, beach grasses and driftwood seemed artfully placed around the sand, as if she were in a painting, or ... as if this place had a caretaker, perhaps.  Those outcroppings of rocks were teaming with life, and as she sat, she may witness a crab scuttling out of one, down a bit of the sharp slope, and then dropping into the lake with a splash.  There, attached to the side of where the crustacean had dove in, was a starfish, clinging tightly to the slick, black surface, an anemone growing right from the rock itself, a little lower, along the calm surface of the water.

Calm, aside from those bubbles.  Strange, for such an environment, but then, it truly seemed more lake than bay.  But then, this was likely another edge of the Labyrinth.  This lake may even lead into Faerie, by way of an adjoining bay or ocean.  The salt would keep the Swanmays away, but Kelpies and Undines would enjoy such a watery realm.  As would the Corsair, who'd received the gift of bestowing gifts, from his mother, the Bean-Fionn.  Not as famous as the Beansidhe, still, she would have heard about it from her father.

Those bubbles were closer to a mostly submerged rock, but they seemed to have passed behind it and ceased.  Her prayer to the Labyrinth itself may sufficiently distract her from the strangeness,  as she would be flooded with a sense of acknowledgement.  As she spoke, it listened, and agreed with her.  A break was warranted, and already provided, 'wasn't this a nice spot?'  Not spoken, but ... almost.  And in her mind's eye she could see Jareth, still dealing with Larrach.

The Spiderling was struggling to stand, weak without his magicks, and Jareth was aiding him, because in the end, the punishment wasn't even Jareth's to give.  The Spiderling's magic would return when it was good and ready.  All Jareth could do was help him to a safer location and find something else for him to help with rebuilding.  Looking around, Jareth, and Aisling by way of Jareth, noticed the door had vanished behind her.  Even on her side, there was no portal she had stepped through.

He did not need one, however, and simply pushed against a brick in the wall.  A section opened for him, and he passed through, with Larrach leaning heavily against him.  He knew the path to the City, of course, and the Labyrinth had no surprises or secrets kept from him, at least not yet.  It was a possible problem for the future, however, as he noticed how alive everything suddenly looked.  The Goblin King's jaw dropped open, watching trees and walls suddenly thrive as if coming to life.  A Ballybog crawled from a small swamp he had been passing, features hidden behind it being covered in mud and moss, the squat little thing helped Jareth carry Larrach with a strength it shouldn't have had.

But, when the Labyrinth thrives, so does it's peoples.

All this, it showed her in an instant, and then the flash was gone, because the Labyrinth had answered her request, and in showing her Jareth was too busy to stalk her, leaving her time to be alone, it availed itself of even more of her essence, feeding itself like a starving creature grasping at such offered food.  A nap would be lovely, if only that grandfather clock had an alarm on it, but she would certainly be even more tired now.  That beef jerky was so salty, she would need nip from her water stores.  Was a shame that the lake was full of salt.

There, as she looked back out into the lake, there was a face looking back at her.  Wet, white hair, thrown back out of his youthful face, the man was perched upon that small outcropping that the bubbles had disappeared behind!  Holding himself up on to strong arm, a seashell on a leather thong around his neck, he could have been a surfer catching a break after a wave, staring at her the way she stared at the ocean.  No, the lake.  Could it be an ocean and still be a lake?  Well, it was near the center of the Labyrinth and also on the outskirts, so why not?

"You are quite the majestic painting, when you sit there lost in thought,"  His words were warm and rich, like spoken chocolate, this surfer boy who must have been used to the lake by now, to stare at her so instead.  So pale for a surfer, or perhaps slightly grey of skin?  And so much of it on display, from the waist line on up, bare and chiseled.  He wore a smile, more than a simple smirk, as though he knew what she was thinking.  Behind him, a black fishes tail flopped out of the water and back down again, splashing playfully.

A Merman then?  Well no ... not exactly, but then, she was resting and he hadn't gotten close enough for her to realize, that was no fish's tail behind this fish's tale.  "I'm the Corsair.  I hope you are enjoying my waters and find them restful."

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling took a moment to take in the scenery around her, enjoying the little creatures skittering around. She pulled a piece of jerky out, homemade at that, hence the brown paper bag, and started to chew on the honeyed confection of dried meaty delight. She was quiet in her own thoughts, and confused at the images being shared with her. The Labyrinth had answered, and she was drawn into seeing the strangeness of the construct that was coming back to life. It was really 'speaking' to her in a sense.

Showing her what happened with Jareth and the Spiderling, the creatures coming back to life and the Labyrinth filling with green. She felt the welling pride in her chest, at seeing the way things were changing, growing, twisting. Her eyes staring off into the far distance of the watery shores.

She noticed nothing, no one, as she ate in silence, the wind catching on her red-brown hair, her breathing even as she relaxed and tried to find a way to regain the lost strength that she had sacrificed when traveling. She was just human, and while the clock was slowed to a crawl, she knew the Labyrinth could only go so far without drawing on her again. The hour she was likely to get, could be stretched out to be more like several hours of rest, which was exactly what the petite woman needed.

She stretched out her legs on the sand, and found her food disappearing faster than she hoped. She stopped, rationed some of it back into the bag, and put it away in her backpack. She licked her lips, pulling her water bottle free from her bag and taking a few sips before putting it away. When her head turned so she could look at the shores of the lake, she saw someone.

More like a 'him', and she felt something inside of her that reached out like a sleepy tendril. She opened her mouth to speak, but was instead hypnotized (not literally) by the appearance of the male that was pulling himself from the water. The male was speaking to her and she found herself flushing, her eyes dropping as she squirmed in her spot. She wasn't sure how to respond to his words, so went with a more neutral response. "Your compliment is appreciated, but one could say the view is only as fine as the one of which has the eyes to see it." She remembered her father saying something similar to that when she was younger.

She looked up slowly, a wry smile on her lips. "But yes, Corsair, this is a relaxing place - and after the day I've had, I need a bit of respite. I could honestly use a nap... but I'm not sure that's safe... I might sleep through my trial and... honestly... completing the Labyrinth is very important to me." She said this as she shifted, slowly standing up and walking closer to the water, leaving her shoes and socks behind so she had a chance to feel the water on her feet. "I'm Aisling Nox, it's a pleasure to meet you." She said as she swept him a small bow. "I hope you do not mind my intrusion in your realm, this is where the door brought me."

[GreenWolf]

Corsair pushed back from the rock as she drew closer, arms bulging as he lifted himself from the black surface and shoved off as if to vanish, but he didn't.  He didn't even go back under, but seemed to bob on the surface like a buoy.  As she stepped closer to the water's edge, he watched her closely, though there was still a good distance between them.  Eyes of icy blue tacked her steps, and before she'd reached the slow lapping tide, he had drifted about half way between that rock he'd perched upon, and her own steps.  It was there he paused, leaving her with plenty of personal space, so as not to crowd her.

"I do not get many visitors here."  He replied, though somehow he seemed to insinuate that he could have said more.  "I am pleased you find yourself so welcomed, and if a door opens for you, leading into an area such as this, then you should feel so."  For truly, this beach was not his home, but more, the front doorstep to it, and she still remained out in the open, so was still within the confines of the Labyrinth, whether the walls seemed behind her or not.  He bowed low to her, his body rising and falling slowly, hypnotically, before rising back to let those light blue eyes slide to hers.  "You do me a great honor with your name, child of house Nox.  Though,"  his head canted slightly, "Are you far from your home then, or from ... ?" 

He paused suddenly, his line of thought unfinished, looking as though he were listening to something she couldn't hear.  "Are you taking on the Labyrinth then?"  He had moved closer, it was clear, but it happened so slowly, as though he were drifting in with flotsam, seemingly unintentional.  "No wonder you are so exhausted, you poor darling."  Close enough to be speaking to her conversationally, though he never really had needed to shout, and nor did she, though the distance had been so much greater.  He seemed shorter, being so much closer but still in the waters to his waist.  "Time and tide wait for no one, my dear, be she human, Sidhe, or some glorious merging of the two, twin streams joined together into one wild river, bounding for the sea."

"You are, of course, welcome to stay as long as you like.  Time gets tired too, you see.  At times, anyway, and I feel he has slowed to a crawl to rest as you do."  Along the edges of the water, black tentacles undulated up near the surface, one even breaking the stillness on her left, to stretch out like a grasping finger, as though he might pull himself up onto the beach.  Another on her right, but the rest remained beneath, churning the previously placid surface.  How had he gotten so close?  There was something hypnotic about his movements, swaying before her, still but moving.  Perhaps he was lulling her into a sense of security, because those limbs, if they were his, which they seemed to be, showed no signs of malice.

He lifted up out of the water before her, his body continuing past the waist, down to a smooth seeming groin.  Where his legs should have been, indeed, he seemed to shift from grey to black and those thick tendrils were what held him up out of the water in front of her.  So non-threatening, though, even still seeming shorter than she as he did not rise forth farther than he needed.  "Perhaps, Aisling of house Nox, I could be of some assistance with rejuvenating you?  Easing your weariness, calming those sore muscles of yours, so you may rest well?  That used to be one of the reasons people would grace this beach, hundreds of years ago, or so I'm told.  It was a popular spot for those seeking such, and knowing that someone of my family could do to aid them.  So long ago now..."  He smiled at her, and there was something sad in it, "As I have said, I have had no visitors in so very long.  People have forgotten us."

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling was quiet as she watched the creature that had appeared. More than creature, in many regards he was the leader of this domain and a powerful entity in his own rights. It was indeed like this was a doorway to his realm, or the realm where he seemed to reside. Why had the door lead her here? Was the Labyrinth in control of where she went? Had Jareth lost that much of it that it was seeking to move the testee - respond to it - as the Labyrinth itself pleased? Her father had told her stories - things he said he had heard - about when the Labyrinth had been rife with wild magics, and none was it's ruler. It decided who was worthy to traverse it, and who was not.

Had Jareth lost enough control that this was the times it was returning to? Had her presence really restored such vitality to it? Well given how tired she was, she was pretty sure it was feeding off of her. But how could she deny it? It was what was giving her a chance at freedom. It seemed to want her safe, as her father had never told her that there was anything wrong with this man - The Corsair. The stories she had been told as a child were coming to life, and she found her head canted to the side as she smiled at him.

His movements were hypnotizing, but perhaps it was her lack of energy and how exhausted she was. "I'm from the Human Realm... I wished myself to the Labyrinth to escape the horrors of my life in the human world." She said as she fiddled with the edge of her shirt, out of nervousness. She still could feel his touch on her skin, the urge to cleanse herself - wash away his filth - was rising. She ached, wanted to remove the remnants of the past - change her clothes - not feel so... dirty and used. Not from the Labyrinth, used from the stepfather that was supposed to have guided her - raised her - loved her. Not beaten her, abraided her, and tried to rape her.

She realized that during speaking to him, the creature had pulled himself closer. Her bright eyes - more green than anything at this moment - were locked on his approach. Red-brown hair curled around, as she reached up to carefully use a tie to put it back. "I suspect they do not, but it seems that you are right that time has slowed to a crawl. Perhaps the Labyrinth wishes me to remain here as long as possible, but also wishes to make me not near death when leaving here. This entire place seems to be feeding from me." She admitted and then stopped as something in his words made her giggle. " 'be she human, Sidhe, of some glorious merging of the two'? You flatter me Corsair, but Fae I am not as far as I have known." She said with a wry smile on her lips.

The woman was not lying, she did not know of her Fae blood. She didn't even suspect it. But his words were indeed flattering. She noticed the tendrils on the sands now, and that the male was approaching further, she could feel the waves lapping at her feet and a sense of peace washed over her. "A nap would be great, but I doubt it would give me that much time. So relaxing here, at least, should make things - ..." She stopped as she realized how close he had gotten, but there was no fear in her heart (and not from Naive thinking) towards this creature. He seemed, calm, lonely - he made her think of herself for some reason.

"You truly have been alone for long. I would weep for you, if you'd allow it. I understand being lonely, being closed off from everything... " She shuddered as her arms wrapped around her torso and she bit her lip. "I wish I could wash away my old life, but salt water is not quite that forgiving on the skin of a human woman." She said this and then the light went on in her head again, but she stayed quiet. Last time it was she that had offered a deal, sometimes those in desperation made strange deals, but she was also just too tired to even think about offering a deal. His kiss could make her capable of finishing this without being killed, harmed - but never know true death... At least for a period of time. "My Papa never forgot the stories, and he told me. So  you are not forgotten. Beings are truly Immortal, so long as one human heart holds them dear."

[GreenWolf]

The Corsair halted in his approach as her thoughts drifted towards her old home.  It no longer was, of course, not anymore.  The Labyrinth was her home now, win or lose would simply decide if she made it to the castle and Jareth waiting at the end, or if she'd have to make some corner of the maze her new home, surrounded by goblings and boggarts.  He would tell her as much, if he'd known what she were thinking, that Jareth still ruled the Labyrinth, he didn't choose where she went anymore than the Labyrinth did.  It rearranged itself at his, or its own, whims, but only she could choose which direction to go in.  Even here, she had made the door, opened it, not the King, or the Demense, and if she allowed herself to put too much faith in the Labyrinth, it would swallow her up.  But alas, he couldn't read minds, only body language.  Hers spoke of discomfort, disgust, and pain.  So much pain.  He wished to touch her, to sooth it away, but it was not his place at present and to push her too far, too fast, after whatever this was, it would only make things harder for her.

"I've known a single Nox, once upon a time, and he was anything but an ordinary mortal man.  If there is some relation to him, it would explain the magnificent vibrancy of your eyes, the brilliance of your hair, or the porcelain fairness of your skin."  When unable to ease her with touch, words were the next best thing.  "I mourn for the loss of your childhood, Aisling, but you may find that having come to the Labyrinth, may return some of the magic that has been lost.  Just ... bear in mind.  This is a place of wonder, but it is also a place of night terrors.  Not nightmares, terrors.  Do you understand?  The Labyrinth is not doing you any favors by giving you time to rest."  He drew further back from her into the water, his tentacles once again hidden.  "In your world, they have ... uhh ... rechargeable batteries, yes?"  Apparently, he wasn't one of the ones oblivious to modern technology.  "You are a food source, and she is so hungry.  If she devours you now, you will be lost to her. If you rejuvenate, she can feast a second, third, and fourth time.  Do you see?"

His hands exited the water to run back through his practically-glowing, moon white hair.  "You may weep for me without permission, but it does neither of us any good will.  Better to provide what companionship you can offer, to perhaps ease both of our similar troubles a trifle, aye?"  He stood up, as he had not been in so deep of water.  Stood up, upon legs!  Thick, muscular legs, as this one did not skip leg day!  Being an octopus or squid, he couldn't, could he, har har.  Speaking of, his tentacles had shifted in a swirl around those legs, widening and merging together into a leather kilt of sorts, though black as the flesh had been.  Calmly, he began to walk out of the still waters, to end up beside her upon the shore.  "While I could watch you sleep, I fear you would lose more time than you realize, and would surely lose the company we both seem in need of.  For your Nox father, whomever he may have been related to, and yourself, keeping my story alive, I shall assist you in washing."  He began to walk around towards a cove that was built out of the jutting rocks.  "Follow me, and watch your step."

It wasn't an overly treacherous climb, but Corsair pointed out where the rocks were slipperiest and sharpest, as he lead her past crabs, starfish, and anemone, to a secluded pool that seemed separate from the main part of the lake, or bay, or whatever this was.  "Allow me a moment to remove the salt and sea-life from this hot spring.  The other minerals will remain and you will find it to be more than you could have wished for on your delicate skin.  I will, of course, need to remain in the water as well, to keep the sea from interfering with your bath," his smile curled into a wicked grin when he added, "but I can be a gentleman when it suits me."  A soft chuckle as he was, of course, only kidding, wasn't he?  And Fae couldn't lie, though, he didn't have to be a gentleman to have told the truth as he spoke it, but had he been anything but, so far?  Lowering into the waters, his tentacles loosed themselves, legs disappearing as he lowered into the water and closed his eyes. 

There was a hum of power that she would be able to feel, a glow to the water that she would be able to see, as beneath the surface, his eight, powerful legs swept towards the sea and adjusted the pool to be suitable for a hot, mineral bath.  "When you are ready, feel free to enter."  He said, facing away from her, as if to allow her to undress without him seeing.  He had not said as much, facing away simply because he was working towards the deeper, greater expanse, and would likely turn around before she was finished undressing if he wasn't giving her privacy on purpose.  She wouldn't find out which, unless she chose not to ask it of him, before or during her undressing, until he turned or didn't.  But there was no fee for this service he was providing, doing it as having been honored by her knowing of him, from stories which were so desperately needed.  Of course, as soon as he were done, he would end up turning and taking his time looking her over, blue eyes smiling along with his mouth as he took in her soft, youthful form, unless she stated for him to do otherwise, of course.  For the moment, however, he let her have space, remaining at the further side of the small, perhaps eight by eight, cove.