A Brief Progression of Fate

By: NikkiKelly

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth. All I can hope for is to get lost on my way to work now and again.

Author's Notes:

I know it's been awhile since I've updated on this and Hurts Like Hell, and I'm sorry to say that I cannot even to begin to promise regular updates. I truly have a lot going on in my personal life and I just and very unable to keep up with this story like I should. But, as God as my witness, I will finish this series!

Thanks for the patience.

~Nin~

Chapter Six: To Turn A Dream

"In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities."
- Janos Arany

Alyx awoke to the sound of the steady drip of water. The air around her was dank and felt heavy in her lungs. She groaned as she raised one of her injured arms up to touch her aching head. She could hear someone singing, softly, in a language she barely recognized as Highland Roane. It was then that she realized that her head was resting on someone's lap. The body beneath her shifted and she could hear the rattle of chains. Her body went rigid and wild thoughts raced through her mind. Was she in a dungeon? Had they been captured? She remembered transporting them to the ship, but-

The singing stopped as clumsy fingers brushed across her hair in a gentle caress and it broke her frightened thoughts. Her cloudy grey eyes snapped open and she found Jaron's dirty and injured face smiling down on her.

"Dreaming of me again, love?"

"I guess so..." Alyx looked around to find they were indeed in a large dungeon cell and Jaron was chained to the nearest wall. The water she had heard was the steady rain the dripped inside his barred window. "Where are we, Jaron?"

"Hell." He replied, grimly.

She sat up, gingerly, wincing at the pain in her arms, which she was surprised to find bandaged and cared for. "My arms…"

"You're hurt." Concern crossed Jaron's features and he reached out one hand towards her. Alyx gasped when she saw his broken and twisted fingers. It was no wonder his touch had been so clumsy. Jaron glanced at his ruined hand and drew it back, embarrassed. "We are both hurt…"

Alyx reached for his hand, carefully, and studied the broken digits. "These are bad… Do you want me to set them-"

He shook his head. "Morgan will heal me later. I will be all right." He gave her a weak smile and grazed her cheek with his one unbroken ring finger. "You have cut off all your hair. Tho' it suits you…"

"Oh, Jaron. Your eye… Your fingers…" Alyx brushed her fingers across his swollen cheekbone as tears came to her eyes. "What are they doing to you?"

"Testing me." Jaron replied and his attention snapped towards a noise at the cell door. "Someone's coming. You must hide!" He leaned forward to brush his lips across hers. "You should dream of me in a happier place next time, love." Then he ushered her towards the back of the cell and behind a large stone pillar and hissed out his orders. "No matter what you hear or see, stay hidden!"

The door to the dungeon creaked open and Jaron turned his attention to Mab as she entered. She was obviously angered about something, and only Alyx knew it to be the fact that she was just swindled. Alyx could not see the pair, but the torches cast their shadows on the wall across from her. Mab's shadow raised its arms, pointing the long curved wand in Jaron's face.

"Give your will to me." Mab ordered.

"Never."

The Dark Queen snarled as she spat out a spell in old Gaelic and Jaron began to groan in pain. Alyx clapped one hand over her mouth as she watched his shadow morph into his gyrfalcon form. He screeched in anger and tried to flap his injured wings.

Mab cackled, merrily. "Broken fingers mean broken wings, fool! Perhaps time as a flightless bird will teach you some manners. Come and let me pluck your feathers to make my new dress…"

Alyx squeezed her eyes shut against the tears and willed herself to wake up. The next thing she knew, she was sitting straight up in a bed, a scream dying on her lips. Gentle hands grasped her shoulders and shook her in an attempt to wake her.

"Damn it… Wake up, kid!" Morven growled in the dark. A match flared in the dark and soon a warm glow illuminated his worried face. Alyx gasped in relief and fell into Morven's arms, clutching at him. She was back aboard the ship and in his private quarters. He hugged her shaking form to himself, tightly, and brushed a hand across her hair. He began to murmur words of comfort.

"Now, now, lass…" Morven assured her. "'Twas only a dream. Calm down..."

"It was real… She had broken all his fingers!" Alyx gasped and Morven held her tighter. "I had to hide!"

Morven knew virtually nothing of this girl's past, but he knew her nightmare was made of all those dark memories coming back to haunt her. "You're okay now, lass…"

Slowly, Alyx was calming, but she couldn't get the image of Jaron's broken fingers out of her head. She looked down to find her arms were still bandaged. "The blood curse…"

"Quigli cured ya… It took a bit o' time, but he managed." Morven laid her back in the bed, carefully. "'Course it took even longer for 'im to get me back to me handsome self again…"

"Well, you did make an attractive goat." Alyx smiled up at Morven, weakly. "Let's try to stay out of trouble for awhile… What do you say?"

"Ya need to stop tryin' to get yerself killed over me." Morven grinned and brushed back a chunk of her dark hair. "Them's orders, girlie. Ya know that's 'bout two or three times you've saved my hide already."

"Eh, it's all part of the job, right?"

"An' I've been thinkin' long and hard 'bout that, lass." Morven nodded and tugged at his beard. "I want ya to be me First Mate. Me formal second in command. What do ya say?"

Her eyes widened. "Me?"

"Aye, an' yer first duty is to help me sail this heap southwards…" Morven gave her a bright smile.

"Morven are you crazy?"

"'Course not." His smile faded a little bit. "We gotta run south if we-"

"You haven't had a First Mate in ages and you're picking me?"

"Why not? Yer a right good sailor, ya know how to tie a decent Highwayman's Hitch, and ya even make me laugh on occasions." Morven ticked off each quality with a finger. "Them's two qualifications more than I required from me last First Mate! Even Krollin an' Quigli think it's an ace idea."

"Well, what the heck." Alyx shrugged. "How much more trouble can you get me into?"

"Brilliant! First job, we sail south to the Forbidden Islands!"

"The what?" Alyx blanched at the name of their destination.

"Steady yer mainbrace, bucko… The place sounds a lot worse than it is… Trust me!"

With that, the Merrow Wind sailed south for the Forbidden Islands, a cluster of many small islands that hosted a haven for pirates and other seafaring folk. The many islands formed a near labyrinth of swamplands that hosted some of the best hideouts in the Underground. After docking the ship in the bustling Harbor Town, Morven called a sudden holiday, left Krollin and Quigli in charge aboard the Merrow Wind, and led Alyx deep into the swamps of the island chain. Morven poled their pirogue through the swamp, following the torches glowing on random trees. Alyx shivered as she heard something slither into the water to her immediate left and hugged her coat closer around her body.

"Are we there yet?" She hissed. "These swamps give me the creeps."

"Damn near… There it is…" Morven pointed ahead with his pole.

A shanty loomed in the mists ahead, propped up on stilts above the swamp and aglow with the light of a million candles. Poling their boat to the ramshackle dock, Morven tied them off. Each step on the ancient dock creaked under their booted feet as Alyx peered about, nervously. Shortly before the end of the dock, Morven stopped and threw out his arm to stop Alyx from continuing.

"What are y-" Alyx started.

Charging from the shadows roared a dragon-like alligator, its great jaws snapping. Alyx gasped and fell backwards on her butt as the gator reached the end of its chain and stopped a few feet shy of the docks. It hissed, agitatedly, and flashed it great teeth at them. Morven put his hands on his hips and smirked up at the shanty.

"Who's that knockin' on my dock?" a loud voice called from the shanty porch. "We don't like strangers 'round these parts…"

"Pallas! It's me! Call off Dibbles!" Morven called out.

"Well, I'll be twice dipped in the river Styx! If it ain't Morven Squall!" A Fae woman came into the torchlight. The beautiful woman was dressed plainly, in a simple dress that hung from her shoulders and kept her cool in the muggy swamps. Her long brown hair hung around her face in wild curls and braids and she was barefoot. She rested her hands on her hips and gave him a cocky grin. "What brings ya my ways, Squall?"

"Call off Dibbles and I'll tell you." Morven replied, just as cockily as she.

Pallas snorted and snapped her fingers at the alligator. "Go on now, Dibs..."

Reluctantly, the hissing gator disappeared back into the shadows and Morven led Alyx to the porch steps. He held out his arms to Pallas in a hugging gesture. "Miss me, love?"

"'Bout as much as I miss having the wheezing dragon-pox." She snorted again and peered around him at Alyx. "Who's the kid?"

"Ah, let me introduce ya to me First Mate, Aneurin of the Genkis. Aneurin meet Pallas Foxglove, Witch of the Forbidden Islands." Morven made the introductions, swiftly, and with an ever growing smile.

"'First Mate? You haven't had a proper first mate in nigh on a century…" Pallas teased him and gave Alyx a wink. "Glory hog, you know."

"Anuerin here needs a bit o' trainin' in the magical arts an' I figured, since yer the next best thing to havin' Wyntr le Fey…" Morven gestured between Alyx and Pallas. "What do ya think, Pal?"

"How long would I 'ave to put up with you?"

"As long as ya can put up with me deadly charm, love."

Pallas gave Alyx a look-over. "Oh? An' what does Pallas get outta this deal?"

"We'll let ya in on our little secret…" Morven teased.

"Oh, for the sake of Rapunzel! I know she's a woman, Morven. You may be able to fool most people, but ya ain't gonna get one over on old Pallas."

Alyx eyes widened and she looked to Morven in a panic. She had never come across anyone who could see past the glamour that the glass slippers produced.

Morven gave her a calming gesture and turned his attention back to Pallas. "Oh, yeah? What makes ya think that?"
Pallas gave him a smirk and jangled a small pouch at her waist. "The bones told me… Come on inside an' tell me the story of this girl who walks like a man…"

"Hey! Wake up!"

Sarah's eyes snapped open at Wyntr's command and she found the Alchemist standing over her bed with a stern look on her face. "Wyntr? What time is it?"
"Early. Get dressed. We're going to the market in Silvanus. I'm outta horned toads and peppermint." Wyntr grunted. "'Sides there's an elf having her baby and she needs me to be midwife for her."

Sarah sat up and looked Wyntr, quizzically. "You're a midwife too?"

"'Course I am. Why do you think that I had you reading all those healing tomes last week? Now hurry up or you'll miss breakfast. Treffun made us honey cakes."

Wyntr left the room and Sarah looked to Ashe curled up on her floor. "Always an adventure here in Sirrocco Forest…"

After she quickly dressed, the pair headed downstairs for the kitchen where Treffun was grumbling over their breakfasts. Wyntr soon joined them and after eating quickly, she and Sarah made off for Silvanus. Taking the trail that Sarah neglected on her way to Wyntr's home led them to a small ferry making trips too and fro across the inlet and to the town. The seaside town of Silvanus was a bustling marketplace. Wyntr was well-known there, so many gave the sometimes temperamental witch a wide berth as they made their way through the city, but all gave her acknowledgement as she passed. . After a few trips through shortcuts she knew within the town, Wyntr brought them to a small thatched hut with a steady stream of smoke coming from the chimney. A rather nervous looking elf man bade them entrance at the door and led them to small bedroom inside where a very pregnant elf writhed in pain. Wyntr knelt at her side, cooing a few words of comfort before turning back to the man.

"We'll need hot water and towels… Lots of them. Now." The man raced off to do her bidding and she turned to her apprentice. "Wash up, little Sarah, an' help me deliver this baby."

Hours later, when they finally returned home, Sarah collapsed in a chair by the hearth, every bone in her body aching. Wyntr did the same with a groan.

"Helping those in need is a duty of every reigning monarch, whether it be keeping their country out of unnecessary wars or birthing a child." Wyntr said, wearily.

"No job to big or small." Sarah agreed. "Though it was nice of those elves to name their daughter after me."

"Many elves consider it good luck to name their child after the person who helped deliver it. An' it's a trend to name babies after royalty." Wyntr explained as she shucked off her boots. "The people in Silvanus like you. Expect for them to call upon you quite often."

Wyntr wasn't joking. Within two weeks Sarah was called upon to splint ten broken bones, cure six colds, stitch up three men from a bar brawl, and deliver one goat. While helping the injured and ill in Silvanus took up a lot of her time, Sarah still managed to study the many tomes and scrolls that Wyntr produced for her lessons. It was nearly All Hallow's when Wyntr took her on her first 'field trip' in Sirrocco Forest. After a lengthily trip through all three of the fairytale forests, they came to crystalline lake with an island in the center. Sarah's eye's widened in wonder as they traveled down the long dock with 12 separate hitches for rowboats. Nearly all were sunken and decaying in their watery tombs, save the last at the end of the dock, which, despite its decrepit appearance, floated quite merrily. As they approached the island in the center, Sarah was amazed to find that it hosted the vine covered ruins of a castle.

"It is just like the 12 Dancing Princesses." Sarah whispered.

"The very same." Wyntr replied and focused her odd eyes on Sarah. "Now today's lesson's about magic. You are powerful, there's no denying that, but ya lack control."

"I'm just not very good at it." Sarah frowned.

"Ya lack control." Wyntr reiterated as they docked the boat and headed towards the ruins. She hiked up her skits as she stepped along the jagged moss covered stones as they enter what was once the ballroom. "That's all."

"I dunno… The most I've seen me do is burn down hedge maze. I can't even do a proper glamour."

"Oh, hogsnot! You can use your magic to make even these ruins to what they once were!" Wyntr gestured around them wildly, her robes whirling with each sharp move she made. "Your glamour can produce the phantom princes and the dancing princesses and fool even the steadiest of Fae! They would taste the sweet wine and feel it as it flowed past their lips! They would smell their partner's sweet perfume and feel their loving embrace!"

Sarah looked around at the moss and vine covered ruins in doubt. "That sounds like a fair sized overhaul to me, Wyntr."

Wyntr whirled back about to shake one finger in Sarah's face. "For bein' the Champion of the Labyrinth, ya got little faith in yourself!"

Sarah frowned. "I've got plenty of faith in myself!"

"Do ya now? Then prove ol' Wyntr wrong!" Wyntr gave her a wry smile and moved to sit down next to Ashe. She gave the gryphon a fond pat on the head and gestured with the other hand. "Impress me…"

Sarah gave slight huff and rose to stand in the middle of the ruined ballroom. Bright sunlight streamed down through the holes in the glass pane roof and made a spotlight on Sarah. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and began to envision the ballroom as she had always pictured in the stories. In her minds eye, she saw the entire ballroom renewed in a wash of white marble and shining glass. She could smell roses and lilies from the elaborate arrangements and the music was sweet to her ears. Masked couples danced gracefully in circles around her, alit by the light of a thousand candles. At the dais were twelve golden thrones, arranged by age, where twelve beautiful princesses sat in glittering gowns. When Sarah opened her eyes, it was exactly as she had pictured it and she gasped in wonder.

Her magic had even changed her dress in a flowing one of stunning green .with cream lace trailing down her thin arms. Diamonds were embroidered into the gown, making sure each movement she made sparkle. She looked back up at the dais and saw that there was one throne waiting, empty, for her. The other princesses rose to dance, each having a prince approach and ask for her hand. As they began to twirl around her, Sarah felt a gentle hand upon her elbow and when she turned, she found herself staring into familiar mismatched eyes.

"Jareth? What are you-"

He was in a suit matching her green and cream ensemble and wore a jaunty crown at his brow. Instead of speaking, he bowed low to her and began to twirl her around the ballroom. Her feet were barely able to keep as they danced and he dipped her too and fro. She felt the velvet of his gloves against her fingertips and his warm breath as he pressed a kiss to her neck. Sighing in content, she relaxed in his strong arms and breathed in the scent of his sandalwood cologne. Then a piecing shriek cut through her senses and she recognized it as Ashe's cry.

She remembered.

Thrusting herself back from the phantom Jareth's arms, she watched the castle fade back to ruins around her. Boy, was she a sucker for those darn ballroom dreams. She frowned at herself. How could she have managed to even fool herself? She turned back to where Wyntr was watching with a critical eye.

"Not bad… Not bad at all. 'Specially for your first try. Most don't get that far the first time I bring them here." Wyntr rose and Ashe bounded to Sarah's side. "You've got better taste than Prince Jaron at any rate… His ballroom had goblins and pixies in the punch bowl and all the women were faceless."

"You've done this before?" Sarah asked, amazed at the world she had created for a brief moment.

"Of course! This is where I bring all who need to learn… It's good practice for 'em. You did well today, Sarah. Just remember that when you cast your glamour you are in control." Wyntr gave her an approving smile. "Feel tired?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, but why was Jareth here?"

"Some Fae share inexplicable bonds, my dear… The pair o' you got one for sure. Besides, I suspect there's a bit of the Goblin King that still likes to linger in these parts." Wyntr replied and motioned for Sarah to follow her from the ruined ballroom. "You see, Jareth was one of the twelve princes that escorted the Twelve Dancing Princess. Of course, he was merely the Goblin Prince back then. King Jareen, may he rest in peace, was still on the throne in those days."

"How did he get himself caught up in that story?" Sarah asked as they made their way back to the path that would take them back to their boat.

"Well, the princess's father, angered Oberon, so he cursed the girls to forever dance their nights away with Princes of the Fae, making them a waste to try to marry off for the old King. Oberon called out to his Court for the most powerful of the princes and by then Jareth was known for his excellent glamour. Oh, but he wasn't the only one. Prince Robin Goodfellow, or Puck as he likes to be called, was there too I think… Prince Nuada of the Elves… Several of them boys. It was a real grand affair. We had balls every night for weeks 'til that bloody soldier had to muck it all up…"

Sarah laughed. "The longer and longer that I'm here, the more and more amazed I get. All those fairytales are real!"

"Remind me to tell ya the story about Snow White sometime… C'mon. Treffun's likely to be done with dinner, and that was certainly enough work for one day."

The problem with any Fae having an animal form is the fact that the longer they stayed in such form, the more they began to think like the animal. So, with Jaron being trapped in gyrfalcon form for an extended time, he began to think of himself more as a bird than a Fae. His bird self could not understand the cruel women who kept him in a rusted cage, where he barely had room to move, let alone stretch his four foot wingspan. All he could do was stay perched in the center, hugging his tattered and broken wings to his thin body and hoping what was left of his feathers would keep him warm. Each night she plucked more and more, adding to the horribly macabre dress upon the dressmaker's doll in her private quarters. If and when he was fed, it was merely the scraps after her great Black Eagles and vultures were fed before him.

He had learned not to screech, for it filled the cruel woman with wrath like nothing else. He learned not to preen, because she wanted his feathers all to herself. He learned that it was no use for him to peck upon the rusted bars of his cage, for it only resulted in his wings being broken all over again. His worst lesson had been the time some strange and primal urge provoke him to peck the cruel woman. All around his beak was still bald from the leather muzzle they had confined him in.

Yet, he had a few good lessons as well. He learned that when he was at his most docile, the guard around him became lax and there where brief moments when he could almost taste the sweet winds of freedom. He also learned that the dark-haired witch that came to heal him often brought rats or small fish that has the faint scent of crow upon their flesh. He also learned that once upon a time, he was more than a simple bird of prey. His eyes often would flash with a brightness that few other than the lower goblins understood. He was more than some aviary pet.

He was a Sindhe.

The burning embers nestled inside the bowl of the wooden pipe let off a faint glow, revealing Alyx in the dark. She sat at a table with her back to the wall of the dark pub, shrouded in shadows and watching the room. Her hat was pulled down low and she taking leisurely puffs from the long and curved pipe in her hand. She focused her gaze across the grimy pub. Morven was there, playing cards with a troll, an elf, and an orc. She watched the table, cautiously, not trusting the men that her Captain played with. One hand rested on the hilt of her sword, under the table as the other drew the pipe from her lips.

They had spent some time at Pallas's place, with the swamp witch teaching Alyx everything from dream deciphering to bone and rune readings. Yet, within a month of their stay at Pallas's place, Morven managed to anger the witch enough that she performed a fish curse on the pirate. The curse caused gills to grow on his neck and webbing to appear between his fingers and toes. It took Alyx three days to break the curse and return Morven to his non-aquarian self. Shortly after that, they left Pallas's swamp home to return to Harbor Town and the ship waiting for them there. Alyx readied the ship to sail while Morven disappeared into town for a few hands of cards before their departure. By the time that she tracked him down to a little pub called The Hook and Sword, it was midnight and the ship had been ready to sail for hours. He insisted that he had to stay because he was on a winning streak, so she settled back, guarding him from the shadows.

Morven's blue eyes flickered across the table at the elf. The pirate grinned. "Your bet, Elroi."

The long, blonde haired elf gave a smirk and tossed a bevy of chips into the pot. The troll snorted and then threw down his hand of cards.

"Too pricy for Golorg's lousy hand." The troll rose and staggered away towards the bar.

Morven met the bet and added more. The orc followed suite. Elroi let his sharp eyes drift back to the Captain.

"Shall we see who wins the big pot, boys?" Elroi asked. "I'll go first."

He laid down his hand of cards so all could see and the orc snorted, throwing his cards upon the table. A winning hand. "I've beaten you, elf."

"And you, pirate?" Elroi asked. "What do you have?"

Morven gave a grin and slapped down his cards. The winning hand. The orc snarled in rage and turned to Morven. "You cheat and lie."

The pirate captain frowned. "I never cheat at cards Furgle. Never."

"Liar!" Furgle hissed.

"Now, now Furgle." Morven admionished. "Let's not be a sore loser."

The orc moved to lunge. Within an instant, Morven stabbed his short knife through the orc's hand, pinning the creature to the table. Furgle howled in pain and nearly fell to the floor. Morven shook his head, sadly, and gathered his winnings from the middle of the table, while the orc writhed in pain.

After collecting his spoils, Morven jerked his blade free and smiled at Elroi. "Fancy a drink while we discuss them basilisk eggs you owe me?"

Elroi laughed and followed Morven to Alyx's table. She gave the pirate a sober look. "Can we set sail now?"

"Right after me an' me mate Elroi here discuss some business. Be a good kid an' go get a bit of ale to wet our whistles." Morven handed off his bag of spoils to her.

She cocked one eyebrow at him. "I thought being promoted to First Mate made it unnecessary for me to continue the work detail of a mere cabin boy."

"Ya thought wrong. I 'aven't replaced ya with 'nother cabin boy yet. Now get them drinks, savvy?"

Alyx frowned, but went off to do his bidding anyways. By the time she had returned the two men were in deep conversation.

"…An' speaking of all things scaly… Thanks Lad." Elroi accepted his drink. "Don't go near the Dragon Spine or the Wastes. There is a mad dragon again."

"Bloody hell, not another one…" Morven frowned over his ale at Alyx. "That'll mean two bad things, kiddo. No more fire grass an' we canna use the Foxhole to hide out."

"So far he's staying outta the Wastes." Elroi added. "Been stayin' in the Spine mostly."

"Which one of the old nutters was it this time?"

"Unwin of the Ashes. Nearly took out half of Taureg last week." Elroi leaned in a little closer. "But if yer lookin' for some work, the word from the mainland be that Prince Dymek of Taureg is in dire need of a dragon slayer."

"Dragon slaying? Ya think I'm mad?"

"Could be worth it just to milk a few of the fringe benefits and then slip out the back gate before..." Elroi shrugged. "It sounded like a good Blinken, Winken, and Nod set-up to me. Thought you and yer new First Mate might be interested…"

"Hmm… Temptin', but I recently escaped death an' I donna like toyin' with them Fates."

This whole while, Alyx was listening to the conversation, completely engrossed. "How does somebody become a dragon slayer?"
Elroi and Morven both gave her a weird look.

"Dragon slaying is for the brave and the bold kiddo, not pirates." Elroi laughed. "'Side's, I think the last person to slay a dragon around here was Lord Maccrea when he killed Samiel the Calamitous in Darkwood Copse."

Morven shook his head. "No, no… It was High Prince Meletius vs Cahal the Desolate. That spat was up near Shade's Coast in the Red Snow Northlands."

"Are ya sure, because-"

"Hey, I'm serious." Alyx frowned. "How does somebody become a dragon slayer?"

"Through sheer madness and pain. Ya just get them thoughts outta yer head, bucko. There'll be no dragon slayin' for the crew of the Merrow Wind. We just agreed to stay outta trouble, 'member?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Belay that. We're not goin' dragon slayin'. Now, when can I get me basilisk eggs, Elroi?"

Morven merely pretended to ignore Alyx's questions about the dragon. Once he was back aboard the ship and outta the reach of her ears, he grilled Krollin and Quigli about her curiosity.

"The lass has an unnatural obsession with dragons." Quigli, snorted. "Always readin' 'bout them an' the such."

"She does find them quite fascinatin'." Krollin admitted. "She's quite interested in getting a dragon's hide shield someday."

Quigli gave a guffaw. "I even promised the lass I'd go dragon slayin' with her when the time comes… Imagine that!"

Morven frowned. "Surely, she's not serious then? It's just a phase, right? Girls go through phases, right?"

The two other pirates shrugged their shoulders in unison.

"Dunno 'bout that… Never been much for figurin' out how women think. 'Specially those ones from the Above…" Krollin admitted. "Tho' I suppose the lass can do anything she puts that pretty little head of hers too."

Little did the trio know, Alyx was very, very interested in dragon slaying. Not only had she been reading about it. She was preparing for it. It seemed only her next logical step in this strange world should be to try her hand at slaying a dragon. It's not that she had some kind of crazy death wish, but she felt compelled that this was what she must go and do next. With Elroi the Gambler's news about Unwin the Mad in the Wastes, she was only more encouraged to go out dragon hunting. Though she was still recovering from her near-death experience at Mab's, she felt very confident about taking on the mad creature. So she bided her time aboard the ship, following the daily routine, but all the while planning her trip to Taureg in answer to the Prince's plea for a dragon slayer..

They had barely hit two ports since their brief holiday in the Forbidden Islands, when Alyx decided that the next mainland stop, she was going to jump ship. She knew there was no way in hell that Morven would let her go on such a trip alone, and though she wished for the company, she did not want to put her fellow shipmates in danger. Her only way was sneaking off ship at the next stop, which happened to be a small fishing town called Firth in the southern Enchanted Forest. Unfortunately, Krollin caught her preparing her gear, the night before they docked in the town.

"An' what do ya think ya are up to?" Krollin asked, wearily, when he caught her loading her gear.

She spun around guiltily. "Nothing!"

"Ah… An' I'll be Cinderella on her way to the ball… What ya got up yer sleeve, lassie?"

"I have another trip to take inland…" Alyx shrugged, nonchalantly. "No worries…"

"Uh-huh… An' were ya meanin' on tellin' the Cap'n 'bout this anytime soon?"

"No?" Alyx ventured and winced at the disapproving look on Krollin's face. "Oh, come off it, Krollin. You know how he worries about me an-"

Krollin closed the door to their meager cabin behind himself and crossed his arms over his chest. "Morven pegged it spot on then… You intend on goin' dragon slayin'!"

She winced again and leaned against her hammock. "Well, when you say it like that-"

"Are ya stark raving daft?" Krollin grabbed her by the shoulders, his dark eyes filled with worry. "By Davy Jones, that's a fool's death! Now, I've let Morven talk us into some damn foolish ideas-"

She frowned and shook him free. "I'm not stupid, Krollin. I've done my research-"
"Yer not even fully Fae yet! I know ya got yer secrets lass, but they ain't worth dying over." He hissed in return. "If ya was my daughter, I'd tan yer hide."

"Krollin." Her face softened. "I can't take Teutah's place, but-"

"An' I donna expect ya to, lass." Krollin took the girl's hand in his. "Yer like me own kin… I donna what I'd do if we lost ya. Imagine the wreck Morven would be without ya nowadays…"

She gave a very Quigli-like snort. "The same addle-brained fool he was before. You haven't known me all that long-"

"You donna realize how you touch people's lives, Alyx." It was the use of her real name that gave Alyx pause, and she looked to the steward, carefully. His face was filled with concern. "If there ever was a white mark, ya'd be it. Ya remind us that there is some light in the darkness."

Shocking the elf, she wrapped her arms around him and enveloped him in a tight hug. He gripped her back tightly, and muttered soft words of comfort into her hair.

"Krollin… I know I've kept a lot of secrets from you guys an-"

"They're yer own… We're pirates, remember? We donna expect to know all the stories."

Alyx rested her head against his chest. "Then you must understand why I have to do this?"

Krollin hugged her tighter and nodded, slowly, as he released her. "Sometimes there are things in life we must do regardless of whether we want to or not…"

Alyx gave a small laugh. "A very wise friend once told me the same thing."

"Then he obviously knew what he was talking about." Krollin gave her another tight squeeze. "I'll let ya go… But I'll not agree."

Alyx laughed, softly. "I'd like to see you stop me."

It was Samhain, All Hallow's Eve and the field near Silvanus was alight with the flames of the twin bonfires celebrating the passage into fall. Sarah and Ashe watched in wonder as the townsfolk of Silvanus drove their livestock between the two fires, purifying the animals and people for the coming season. All around her masked children danced merrily with lanterns made of turnips and begged treats from their neighbors. Sarah and her gryphon had become a welcomed and common sight in Silvanus and the townspeople had been more than happy to have them at their celebration. Sarah was still in wonder at the abundance of food and drink that the kindly folk pressed upon her and her pet during the festivities and it seemed that rarely a moment passed when she wasn't urged to dance along to the happy music.

At the end of the very long and fun evening, she felt honored when she was given a tiny turnip lantern, bearing a flame born of the twin bonfires. All evening she had watched the others extinguish their home flames and relit them with the new fire, ushering in the new season. Studying the carved turnip as she walked home through the diamond forests, she hummed the happy songs she had heard all night.

"Good time, huh, Ashe?" Sarah scratched his neck fondly as they walked. "I think those apple tarts were the best thing I've ever ate… That Bree sure knows how to cook."

Ashe mewled his agreement.

"And that taffy that Lowleaf made? Ugh! I'd kill to have candy making skills like him…"

By this time they had neared the scarecrow that directed them home to Wyntr's. Sarah gave his ever-lit face a jaunty wave, which it returned merrily. When they crossed over the bridge, Sarah was unsurprised to find Wyntr waiting like a sad little troll.

"'Bout time. I've had my fires out all night waiting on you." Wyntr scolded and eyed the turnip lantern. "They like ya then? I see they gave ya a bit o' the bonfire flame."

"And I almost got Bree to tell me her secret ingredient to those tarts you like so much." Sarah bragged as she handed the lantern over.

Wyntr cocked one eyebrow. "Really? Good work. Come on then."

With a snap of her fingers, Wyntr transported them to her laboratory. Upon their arrival to the dark room, Sarah heard a loud thud and Treffun's muffled curse.

"Is that you, Wyntr?" He grumbled. "I've been stumbling around here in the dark for hours."
"Well, ya should have woken up when I told ya to…" Wyntr returned, gruffly, leaning down to relight the magical hearth from the turnip. Quickly, the flame spread through out the hearths and torches of the keep to illuminate the rooms. She rubbed her hands together. "Ah… That's better. It may not be an Italian Salamander, but it'll do!"

She crossed to her work bench where there were a number of half assembled tick-tock creatures and bubbling vials. Plucking a rather hefty tome from one end of the table, she lugged it to Sarah.

"Here. Try this for some light reading, lovey."

Sarah frowned as she studied the heavy book the witch dumped in her lap. "What's this?"

"It's a book on fauns. I want you to be able to tell if it's possible to house train them."

Treffun snorted from his chair by the fire and Sarah cast Wyntr a sour look. "Not a sense of humor between the pair of ya then? Bah! It's a book on old Gaelic. Next week I'm gonna teach ya some nasty curses and hexes that'll come in handy when you are Queen. Catch is they are all in old Gaelic, so study up that ways your spells don't backfire on ya." Wyntr ordered and went to work on one of her many tick-tock creatures. "There's one in particular that makes snakes and toads fall from their lips when they speak."

"Gross, but intriguing." Sarah admitted, flipping through the tome. "There have been plenty of times I could have used that one on Jareth…"

Wyntr grunted as she worked to unscrew the shell on the clockwork tortoise before her. "Wouldn't be the first time, I'm sure. Jareth is really good at riling tempers."

Sarah chuckled and hugged the tome to her chest. "What do you think he's up to tonight, Wyntr?"

"Oh, something I'm sure. The veil betwixt the worlds are thin tonight. He could be Above… Or Under… Or both. Wanna find out?" Wyntr cocked one eyebrow, playfully. "We could scry on him. Give 'im a bit o' his own medicine for once?"

"You can do that?" Sarah was intrigued.

"I'm Wyntr le Fey… I can do anything." Wyntr smirked and began to rummage through a nearby cupboard. "'Sides this'll be a good lesson for ya. Now most of Jareth's family uses the crystals for all their scrying needs, but I've found that sometimes the older ways are the best ways."

Finally finding the tiny vial that she was looking for, she crossed under the orrery and to a tapestry covering the wall. She tugged the tapestry down with flourish, revealing a very large and ornate mirror. Dipping her index finger into the golden oil inside the vial, she began to draw runes upon the glass. After she finished each ruin, the word began to glow. After reaching the end of her spell, Wyntr stepped back to admire her handiwork and raised her arms.

"Mirror, mirror made of the finest sands

Show me more than across the lands…"

Sarah gasped in fright as the mirror began to crack, revealing a new surface beneath it and a different scene than their reflections. It showed Jareth in his cavern-like tower, standing in front of one of the fire cauldron's that warmed his room. He was dressed plainly, and staring into the flickering flames. His arms were crossed over his chest and he seemed lost in thought. Suddenly, his gaze snapped up to stare at them through the mirror. He frowned and waved one hand, causing the mirror to shatter into a million pieces on the floor. Wyntr gave a snort and snapped her fingers, causing the mirror to return to its original state.

"Did he see us?" Sarah asked.

"Nah, but he knew I was a watchin'. He seems in a rather oddmood this All Hallow's…"

"Let me try!"

"Hmph… Yer a ways off from learning that powerful of magic, but that tome will help you. Get to reading."

When he found life displeasing, which was quite often these days, Jareth would retreat to the peaceful tranquility that the ruins of the Forest Court of Allerleirauh offered. In his younger days, before its decline, the Forest Court had offered all the frivolities and play that made any youngster's life complete in the Underground. He would stroll for hours with Queen Allerleirauh VIII in her overflowing gardens of sweet jasmine and orchid blossoms. He would play hide and seek with the gnomes, and tag with the fairies and sprites and all the while, the already elderly queen would laugh and shout out her encouragement. So, after he had felt Wyntr's eyes scrying upon him, he flew to Allerleirauh.

These days very little grew right in the ruins of the Forest Court. There was no magical queen to act as caregiver so the jasmine and orchids grew wild, choking one another out and leaving naught but wild thorn brushes and dead plants in their wake. Still the ruins held a mystical charm that hosted the oddest of the fairy folk. Even though the fountains and springs refused to run, despite his best efforts, Jareth still found comfort roaming the old halls. It saddened him to know that Queen Allie wasn't there for him to ask advice from anymore. Jareth came to a stop beside the dry fountain in the center of the gardens and sat down, heavily. Tiny sprites and fairies stopped their normal play and came to swing amongst the fine tendrils of his hair and dance at his boots.

"I see your lot has finally forgiven me?" He gave the group a small smile and they chattered, excitedly. "You know I've felt like I've done enough penance for my sin…"

He held out one finger and a tiny, but bright, sprite landed there. She danced upon his gloved hand, elegantly and hugged his thumb tightly.

"Tell me, little one… Do you ever see the ghost of my brother dancing here?"

The tiny sprite giggled and shot from his hands like a flash, illuminating a path for him to follow. Intrigued, Jareth followed the tiny sprite through the overgrown vines. He had learned long ago that most sprites were of the helpful sort, and tended to know a bit more about the world than most. The tiny creature shot through the thorns and brush like it was nothing, while Jareth lumbered through, tearing up both his clothes and skin. A rather sharp thorn scratched his cheek and he cursed, slapping one gloved hand against the bloody wound. The sprite chattered and he followed the sound with his eyes. Just ahead there was a secluded glen that he barely recognized from his younger years.

The glen, like all of the ruins, was overgrown with the vines, yet this secluded place seemed much more alive than the rest. At the center was the stump of an old and ancient tree, covered in moss, and upon it was a small, dark-headed boy. He was garbed in simple forest wear and juggling three brightly colored balls. Jareth's eyes widened and he prepared to retreat, figuring he had stumbled upon a faun at play, but he noticed that the boy was Fae. The child's merry laugh filled the hair as the winds began to blow jasmine petals about like a soft summer rain. Sprites and fairies danced about the child in the air, excited by his play. Jareth stepped forward, wishing to know more of this strange child, when his boot landed on a twig. Its snap ricocheted through the glen like gunfire. Immediately, all three balls dropped from the child's hands and he turned toward Jareth questioningly. The Goblin King nearly choked when the familiar mismatched eyes of blue and green landed on him and the child smiled. It was a doppelganger of his brother's younger self toying in this meadow.

"Jaron?" Jareth croaked, unbelieving his own eyes. The child giggled and raised one shushing finger to his lips.

You'll not catch me!

With those ghost words echoing in his ears, the child took off through the brush. Jareth scrambled to follow, but barely made it to the stump before the doppelganger disappeared into the brush. The Goblin King cursed and sat down on the stump, hard, confused by this illusion.

"I see him dancing here often."

Jareth snapped to attention at the sound of a new voice, and was shocked to find Oberon standing at his side. "Grandfather."

"I believe this is where his magic came when it was stripped it of him. It seems only right that it would take on the form of a carefree child…" Oberon's voice was forlorn and wistful. "… And come back to the place where he was born."

"His magic is running free? Here?"

"Not free. Jaron's wild magic has been and will always be tied to the Forest Court. It will not venture far without him." Oberon turned his eyes to his grandson. "It is safest here. Though Queen Allie is long dead and gone, her protection over the Forest Court thrives."

"How long have you known?" Jareth asked.

"Wild magic always returns to where it was born." Oberon sat next to his grandson, heavily. "There is rarely a day that does not pass that I do not come here to try and catch a glimpse of the ghost boy frolicking. Somehow it comforts me when I see him."

"It is then that you know Jaron is still alive." Jareth supplied. "Morgan and I believe he can travel in his dreams… Even without his magic. Jaron always had more tricks up his sleeve than an gambling elf from Goodfellow Glen."

"That's the truth…" Oberon admitted, gruffly. "I've seen the girl walk here with him as well, though I doubt she remembers any of it. The few times I have seen her, she is little more than a sleepwalking shade at his side."

"They share a powerful connection…"

"Not unlike you and Lady Sarah…" Oberon cast him a glance. "Not all connections consist of the sharing of dreams, Jareth. Your Sarah broke your control over her dreams when she ran your Labyrinth… Have you forgotten the peach dream?"

Jareth nodded, grimly. "Jaron warned me that there would be consequences should I fail to dissuade her with the ballroom. I was far too confident to listen to his advice."

Oberon waved one hand. "Yes, you may have broken that connection, but betwixt you and Sarah there is much more. Your Labyrinth has already accepted her as Queen and Champion, you have given your heart to her… For the sake of Danu, your goblins would rather make her smile than take any child for you. You are far luckier than you think, lad."

"Sometimes it does not feel so… Especially when my Queen is miles away and holidaying with a crazy witch."

Oberon chuckled. "You should have been me courtin' your Grandmother then. At least you didn't have an angry future father-in-law to deal with."

"You have much faith that she will come home." Jareth replied, sourly.

"Let her learn to be a Queen, my boy. There is few better than the le Fey's to teach her that. Now come… We'll let Jaron have his glen and dreams again… We must discuss this dragon plaguing young Dymek of Taureg,"

When the boat docked in Firth and she finished ordering the crew to unloading the ship, Alyx slipped below for her pack. Hiding it near the gangplank, she did another double check of her duties aboard the ship, and thanked her lucky stars that Krollin agreed to fill in during her absence. With a little luck and stealth, Morven wouldn't notice she was gone until they were far from this port.

"An' what do ya think yer up to? Skulkin' about like a wee pickpocket ans such?" Morven voice boomed in her ear and she cringed over her pack.

She was busted.

Turning with a bright smile, she retorted. "I was gonna run ashore an' pick up-"

"Belay that!" Morven ordered. "I need ya to help me sell that wild spice and swamp weeds. Ya are my First Mate, ya know."
"I'm feeling that is position isn't all it's cracked up to be." She frowned and cocked one eye at him. "Besides, they've been pretty vague with me on exactly what happened to your last First mate."

He gave her a dismissive shrug. "That lout couldn't handle the job. You, on the other hand… Yer made to be a First Mate."

Alyx took a deep breath and she knew she had to tell him. "Morven, I have some business inland and-"

"Ya after that fucking dragon?" Morven erupted, angrily, tired of the games.

"So what if I am?"
"Good Gods of the Seas… Are all women as stupid as you? Mad dragons equal death! Everyone knows that!" Morven spat out, exasperated with her stubbornness on the subject.

"I'm not afraid!"

"That's what all dragon slayers say right before they're either fried to a crisp or eaten alive!"

She frowned. "I'm not stupid. I know what I'm getting into."

"I dinna say ya were just stupid. I think yer downright insane!"

"Morven, I have to do thi-"

"An' ya tell me that I come up with the idiotic ideas?" Morven ranted.

Alyx snarled, fed up with him. "I'm going and there is nothing you can do to stop me!"

"Fine! Go and get yourself bloody killed!" Morven yelled. "Go an' don't come back, you idiotic little tart!"

Alyx squared her jaw and fought the stinging tears that came to her eyes. "Fine, I will!"

She turned heel, grabbing her heavy pack as she did so. She slung it on her back and strode towards the gangplank. Krollin stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

"Don't go, lass..." His eyes pleaded. "Not like this."

"Let me pass, Krollin." She ordered, avoiding looking at him. "I have made up my mind and so has he."

She brushed past him and went down the gangplank to the bustling port of Firth. She stopped for a moment, willing her knees not to quake. She had never left the ship without knowing that she would return. Then she squared her shoulders, ready to face the path before her. At that moment she heard a familiar snort at her right. When she turned, she saw Quigli at her side, a pack upon his back, and his pipe clenched between his teeth.

"What are you doing?" Alyx asked.

"I've never been dragon slayin' before." He responded, taking a puff from his pipe and adjusting his pack. "I think I remember promisin' ya I'd go… 'Sides, you'll probably need all the help ya can get."

"Quigli-"

"I figure that you and Morven get to go on all the adventures… It's 'bout time Quigli had himself one, by Danu!"

Alyx gave him a warm smile, relieved that she had one friend at her side for this journey. "What of the ship?"

"What of it?" Quigli snorted. "It's his bloody ship, after all!"

With that, the dwarf strode off into the crowd and Alyx watched him, awestruck.

He tossed back over his shoulder. "Comin', kid?"

She gave a laugh and raced to catch up with him. From behind at the ship, Morven watched them disappear into the crowded port, his eyes worried.

Alyx and Quigli procured a pair of horses in the marketplace and rode hard through the Enchanted Forest, hoping to make time on reaching Taureg. After nearly two days of hard riding, they camped on the edge of the Rune River, someway north of Honah Lee. Nearly sick to death of fish and any other animal from the water, Quigli quickly caught them a pair of rabbits for a nice stew. While it was simmering away, Alyx began to unpack her bedroll and go through the supplies she got before leaving Firth.

"Quite the little arsenal ya 'ave here." Quigli studied the small armory of weapons Alyx had brought and was cleaning beside the campfire. He hefted one of the twin pair of silver-smithed dwarf broad-axes and gave it an experimental swing. "Very nice. Where did ya nick these?"

"Pallas. She said it was made by dwarfish smiths." Alyx replied as she sharpened her sword.

"Good craftsmanship." Quigli observed and ran the pad of his thumb down the blade. He hissed as it slit his skin like butter and stuck his wounded thumb in his mouth.

Alyx smirked as she sheathed the sword. "Enchanted as well. They never need sharpening."

She rose and took the axe in her hands and gave it a hard swing. It whistled as it cut through the air.

"Ahhh… They are the Twin Blades then… The Whistler and the Piper." Quigli's eyes widened. "Them are old blades, lassie. Forged in the silver mines of Nidavellir as a coronation gift to the Dwarf Queen Harelda the Fierce near a half a millennia ago. They've tasted the blood of nations."

"Dunno 'bout all that. They were covered in rust when I got them. Took me nearly a week to clean them up…" Alyx shrugged and strapped them to her pack. "Pallas told me they would help."

Quigli snorted. "Glass slippers, the Twin Blades... Next thing ya know someone'll be givin' ya Cherlindrea's Wand!"

Alyx laughed. "And I'd accept if I thought it might help my cause."

Quigli's face grew serious. "Slayin' dragons is serious business, lass. Are you sure yer up to it?"

"I have to be." Alyx replied, bluntly, as she began to pack the weapons back in her pack. "That soup done yet?"
Quigli snorted. "Don't you go changing the subject on me, lassie. I'm not as easily distracted as Squall. Now I know ya 'ave faced deadly trolls, treacherous seas, and evil queens… But dragons'll be a whole 'nother ball o' wax… Are ya sure 'bout this?"

Alyx shrugged. "Honestly, no… My head is telling me to run for the hills, but my heart tells me that I need to do this."

"Lass, maybe there is-"

"Can I tell you a secret Quigli?" Alyx asked, softly.

"'Course ya can…" Quigli replied. "… But now ain't no-"

"I'm her… The Girl Who Wished Herself Away… I just thought someone should know. Just in case." Alyx blurted out, and Quigli nearly dropped his pipe in surprise. She looked all about, afraid that someone was going to burst out of the forest for her at any moment.

Quigli cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "Well, ah… We always kinda figured as much, lass… Ya know… With ya being part mortal an' all…"

"I just want someone to know." Alyx repeated, her wistful gaze stuck upon the fire. "I get tired of the lies sometimes."

"Well, if it makes ya feel any better… It don't matter a lick to me who ya are. I'll call ya a friend any day." Quigli replied, his voice nearly choked. He gave a great snort and shook his head. "Now, enough of that! Get that book out and remind me why I donna like dragons."