InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "One small step for Jaffa."

Lirael (bellslinger) wrote in utr_logs,
@ 2010-05-27 14:00:00

Entry tags:

jareth, lirael

Who: Lirael/Jareth
What: Epic Battle Planning Things!
Warnings: Probably not.

The past had always fascinated Lirael. She'd had no connection to either of her parents, and was given no information about them from the Clayr that raised her. She had discovered the mystery surrounding her birth when she was eighteen, using her new-found power as a Remembrancer. Jareth was not one to discuss his past, however. Lirael had tried to tease it from him before with limited success. She knew he came to power by battle, but he would not part with the details.

Remembrancing allowed her to look much further into the past than a mere eighteen years. She had once looked back to the beginnings of a world, though the task hadn't been without risk. She had to travel into Death, and the further back she wished to see, the further into Death she had to go. A few generations was a simple enough matter, but caution had to be exercised the further back she went.

Entrance to the goblin kingdom was a simple enough wish to work off, especially now that Jareth took pleasure in Lirael's company. Often it simply involved finding the King and greeting him. A small detour, perhaps, could be illuminating. Never taking her safety for granted in his land, she cast a diamond of protection around herself, then stepped into Death.

The first precinct went back several generations, but not far enough. Lirael didn't even pull out her mirror until she was at the end of the third precinct. The Remembrancer mirror was attached to her belt with a chain, and she pulled it up to eye level. As she was taught, she watched the mirror with one eye and kept the other on her surroundings. You couldn't let your guard down for a second.

The scene in the mirror was chaotic. Bodies everywhere, with few goblins up and fighting. She wouldn’t be caught in their fighting, since they couldn’t see her through the mirror. There was no way for her to interact with them, she was just watching the past unfold. It was a wasteland, with smoke in the distance. There was little of use for her to see here. She let the mirror fall to her side and stepped into the fourth precinct, her hand on her sword hilt.

All seemed quiet past the third gate. She raised the mirror to look into the past. Here she saw a general commanding his army. There was something--that non-human quality--that reminded her a bit of Jareth, but in many ways he seemed the goblin king’s opposite. He was tall and lanky, yes, but he looked far more corrupt. His head was shaved bald, and when he gave his troops a wicked grin, Lirael could see that his mouth was full to the brim of sharp teeth.

There were battle cries of "Hail Oberron!" It sent shivers down her spine. The name felt wrong on her tongue, and the coppery taste of free magic burned her nose. True, Jareth tasted of free magic, but his was different--lighter, and mingled with flavor of peaches. Oberron’s scent was mixed with something rotting and decrepit.

Then, the Abhorsen saw something that made her blood run cold as the icy waters of Death. Oberron turned to look at her and grinned wickedly. No one was supposed to be able to see her through the mirror. She was so shocked that all of her focus was on the vision, neglecting her immediate surroundings. The waters around the fourth gate went silent as something came through. When she felt something wrap around her ankle, she dropped the mirror. It pulled her down, splashing in the water and fighting its strong current. She swung her sword downward, slashing at the dead thing.

Her foot freed, she looked up to see a tall figure approaching her, sword drawn, and she immediately knew who it was. She scrambled to her feet, running back toward the third gate. She felt hot metal slashing through her side, cutting through her chainmail like butter. It was no ordinary sword. She gasped, but swung around, blocking his second blow with her sword. She reached for a bell, ringing Saraneth to bind him. Oberron just laughed. Instead of attacking her again, he did a little jig just to prove he wasn't bound.

Lirael ran for the third gate, and the second, still hearing the laughter behind her. She crossed the first gate and collapsed in a heap on the dry cobblestone of the goblin kingdom, soaking wet and bleeding.

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movedthestars
2010-05-27 07:22 pm UTC (link)

Jareth sat in his favorite tall-back chair of the 'library.' It was honestly more a room filled with shelves and stacks of books with little to no organization. It made, seeing as few of his people read and he had his ways of finding what he wanted. It drove Lirael in a tizzy, all those tomes, no sorting at all, which amused him, watching her eyes flash and graceful form flail and thrash at him in her rants. He smiled at the image, enjoying the smell of old pages and pipe tobacco.

A bell sounded in his head, high and bright and he opened his mismatched eyes sharply. "Lirael." He shifted from the room to the outer perimeter of the city, feathered cloak draped over his shoulders and gloves on, crouching over her. She was breathing, shallowly, painfully and he took her up in his arms. She was waterlogged and, he looked at his hand from where it touched her, bleeding badly.

The smell of her blood had something in it that hardened his eyes. He scooped her up without a word and began to march back to his tower.

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bellslinger
2010-05-27 07:58 pm UTC (link)

When she felt Jareth approach, Lirael let the protection spell drop. She winced as Jareth lifted her from the ground, but relaxed limp in his arms. Her eyes flickered open, looking up at him. She was still conscious and aware, for the most part. "Oberron," she said, warning him. She didn't think he would be able to follow her out of Death yet, but there was something else bothering her. He didn't seem to try. Most dead things that wanted out would grab onto a necromancer or the Abhorsen and try to ride them out. Oberron didn't show any interest in that.

She struggled to sit up a bit. "Jareth, I think--" she yelped a little, leaning back against him again. She would have to tend to that soon. "Oberron. He's building an army."

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movedthestars
2010-05-27 08:25 pm UTC (link)

That was the smell he recognized, the stink of Oberron's presence. His eyes narrowed as he walked, anger brewing, before he switched to his usual smirking expression. "Oberron, you say? I really must check your invites for high tea more often, Lirael."

He shifted and set her down gently on a human-high table in one of his rooms. "Excuse me, my dear, but you need a few less layers on." He moved and free her cut side of the bloody shift she wore, water and cloth appearing to clean it. He growled so deep and low, it could have been a rumble.

"He struck you with his blade, there is magic in the wound that won't let it heal." There was a soft look on his face and he stroked her hair. "Focus your power on the wound, push on it while I draw it out." He smiled thinly and then focused to out-will the poisonous magic, drawing it from her wound.

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bellslinger
2010-05-27 08:50 pm UTC (link)

She closed her eyes as he put her down, rolling halfway onto her uninjured side so that the cut would be easier to access. She was unconcerned at the armor and layers he'd magicked away. At the growl, she rolled her head back, looking up at him.

"Oh, is that it? I thought it tickled a bit more than usual." She smiled weakly, then closed her eyes again to focus on the wound. She was humming softly in the back of her throat, the notes that worked her magic. Jareth would find the magic more complicated than he remembered it, corrupted by years of death.

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movedthestars
2010-05-27 09:02 pm UTC (link)

"You have the strangest customs, Precious. Tickling with blades," he tsked and saw her settle in for this. He should have given her a soporific drink for the pain, but she needed to be awake.

Magic wasn't spells or charms with Jareth and not with the magic trying to leech Lirael's life out. It was how much will you could push against the world to mold it as you wished. And while the will of a slaughtered high Third race reaching through death to strike out was considerably strong, Jareth was king of this land and his will was in the very roots of the trees and mountains. He felt the thread of magic, yellow and slick and grabbed it, the aging of fall and the crispness of falling leaves drawing it away.

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bellslinger
2010-05-27 09:29 pm UTC (link)

"Never tried it?" she asked, trying to smirk but not quite able to muster the expression. She would manage the pain. Pain was transitory, and the warmth from the charter magic was mildly comforting.

Lirael hissed at a particularly rough rush of pain. She held the string of Charter marks together, though, concentrating on her side. It was dizzying, and she found herself glad she was lying down. Had she been upright, she probably would have passed out by now. It would be so easy to just lean on Jareth and let him handle the situation.. But she was the Abhorsen and where death was involved, she was needed.

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movedthestars
2010-05-27 10:55 pm UTC (link)

"You'll have to lead me through that one, please be gentle."

Let us hope death was not involved in this little scenario. Jareth stroked her arm at her hiss of pain, then pushed once more. He did not will the magic here anymore. He was bored of its presence and it could leave without damaging the woman it inhabited. It shrugged and shivered and disappeared into nothingness.

He sighed and nodded, pushing his will once more to make the wound in her body no longer exist. The bleeding stopped, flesh mending and pain ebb off.

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bellslinger
2010-05-28 03:36 am UTC (link)

Lirael had prematurely accepted her own death no less than three times. It seemed no matter how many times she gave up and resigned her fate, she kept being brought back. With Jareth's last push, Lirael's humming stopped and she grew colder even as he sealed the wound.

Almost as quickly as she had stilled, though, there was a distant low sound, almost like a dog's bark. Life returned to Lirael, her legs twitching restlessly as she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. "Jareth?"

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movedthestars
2010-05-28 04:00 am UTC (link)

He shuffled her around and picked her up, walking off to a proper reception area, like the tea room. Or would be tea room, if goblins stopped eating saucers. "I am still here," he replied and settled her down. She'd want new clothes, but never trusted his picks, something about they might disappear ruining the gesture.

"Now, where were you to have met this Oberron in such an unpleasant way?" He smiled at her, lighthearted in tone except for a ribbon of steel at the mentioning.