After the Solstice: Fulfilling the Bargain

[The Spider]

Jamison was there when Spider awoke. Sitting in a chair beside her bed, which is where he placed her. Underneath the covers and tucked in just like he did when she was a young girl. He had been here since early dusk and had been reading her his journals in her sleep. They where some of his happier entries. hopefully they would help her in her rising from her three day's slumber. his words where soft and resonated with power. It was perhaps a constant incantation. One of protection, another thing he did when he read to her as a child.

While the sleep the potion provided her was unbreakable it did not guarantee peace.  When he infiltrated her room he found her asleep in her circle.  Or mostly within her circle.  An arm and a foot stretched out beyond its outline in the floor.  Breaking the energy.  A fact which made it easier for him to move her.  When he did he would feel the wet heat of her body.  Like a fever victim suffering sweats.  Her breathing was quick.  Sometimes it came with sound.  No words.  More whimpers.  When he first placed her in the bed, there was tossing and turning.  During his reading the movements slowed in frequency until they ceased all together.  Like a fever victim, when midnight passed and it was the Solstice no longer the heat and sweat broke.  Freeing her.  Her breathing relaxed.  Showing ease.  It wasn't until nearly 3 AM that the potion's magic broke and released her.  Eyes popped open and she bolted upright.  Grabbing at the covers on either side of her as if she felt like she was falling.  It was the disorientation of falling asleep in one place and waking up in another.  Blinks rid her sight of a three-day fog.  Honey-bright eyes shooting to Jamison.  "Father."  Her voice was sharp.  Asking her question in that one word - what was he doing here?  A question she already suspected the answer to.  She felt his magic blanketing around her.  The familiar protection he wrapped around her in childhood.  Saw that he'd placed her in her bed.  The journal in his hand.  The fact he'd gotten into her quarters, period.

Jamison calmly lowered the book and reached up to remove his glasses. Which where folded up and placed on the journal in his lap. "Good Evening Carolyn, I trust your rest went well." The blanket over her would settle in as his words died off and he went on. "How do you feel?" There was concern in his voice. He was turning in his seat to face her in her bed.

She was staring at him.  Not a glare but eyes were blazing.  Intense.  The calling was still strong (it would be through the summer months as it waned away slowly) but the worst was over.  Still.  Silvery pink skin glistened with the otherworldly allure of the Fae complexion.  Accentuated by the burnt orange Fae dust that littered from her with her sweat.  Hair was of course its natural shocking red.  She did not plan on being seen by him like this. It showed in her muddy expression.  How she gripped the blanket and pulled it up to cover her.  "Father.  I am not appropriately dressed."  She was covered.  A red long tank top with thin straps, the garment reached to her mid-thigh.  She wore black leggings underneath which reached just under her knees.  It was all the clothing she'd been able to stand.  He was lucky she didn't choose to spend her rest entirely bare.  It had crossed her mind, as the potion was first taking effect, but she'd felt too heavy to put in the effort.  Spider's current modesty wasn't modesty.  It was vulnerability.

"You have been asleep for three days, where you more dressed I believe i would have feared for you." There was a soft smile and he leaned over, placing the journal down on her night stand. "But I can leave if you wish me to, I only desired to see that you awoke safely." Which was true, he wanted to make sure she was alright. but he had come prepared.  Lifting a glass from her side table and offering, it was water. "You should drink, you have been without water for three days."

"You should fear of me Father.  Not for me."  Emphasis on of.  Her lips twisting into a smirk.  Considering her appearance it would wear very pixyish on her.  Mischievous.  "Do not leave.  Now that the Solstice has passed I am focused enough to finish our business."  By inking the second tattoo.  On her flesh.  He could consider it his Father's day present that she was following through on her promise to allow him to be protector of her humanity in a timely manner.  If she wanted to she could've put off inking her mark for years.  There had been no deadline attached to their agreement.  She took the glass of water from Jamison.  Sipping at it as she threw the blankets off of her and swung her legs over the side of the bed.  She saw nothing wrong with inking herself at such a late hour.  She had just slept for three days.  She wasn't tired.

Jamison returned her grin and shook his head. "Why should I fear of you Carolyn?" It was asked with genuine curiosity as if he had no reason what so ever in the world that he should be afraid of her for any reason. When he rose from the bed, stood from his seat and looked about her bedroom. "where would you like to finish our business?"

He asked the question only once so she didn't need to provide a direct answer.  She wouldn't.  "Oh Warden.  Pray you'll never find out."  Her chin held high she looked triumphant.  And proud of herself.  Taking her glass of water she stood in the open doorway of the bedroom.  "Where we did our business the other day will suffice."  At her kitchen table.  As she exited the bedroom she spoke clearly over her shoulder.  "Do not dally in my boudoir.  It does not treat men kindly."  Those words were likely more than a colorful turn of phrase.  Spider took many precautions and actions to ensure that no man would violate her in any way.  This included her private space.  She turned on two oil lanterns in her living area to cast a dim glow over the room.  Setting her glass on the table she retrieved her two leather cases from their storage place.  Undoing the snaps she started the process of preparing the ink just as she had the week prior.

"And you should pray that you put me in that situation." Because while Jamison would never hurt Carolyn, there where ways to prevent her from hurting him without hurting her. When she told him he should get out of her room, he was quick to follow her advice, he had no doubt that her room held many devious traps designed to capture men. "Have you decided where it is you are placing your mark?"

He would hear her scoff.  Considering her both of her parents was it a wonder she had such an ego?  "Close the door behind you."  To her bedroom.  It was for his protection.  Her test tube holder was set out and she mixed the same colors that Jamison's crest had.  Swallowing her discomfort at using color on her flesh.  "Yes."  A short answer to his question.  She had labored over the decision but finally made peace with what was the correct choice to make.  "Did you properly care for yours?  Has it settled into your flesh?"  She assumed Jamison would make himself comfortable at her kitchen table without her bidding him to do so.  Her focus was put on mixing each of the colors instead.

"I did indeed, it is still healing over, but i think that the worst of it is over." Jamison did indeed make himself comfortable at her table folding his hands on the tabletop, and leaning forward so that he could watch her prepare her inks for her own marking. "Where have you chosen?" It was a legit question, he had to prepare a rite in order to solidify the marking and the link that would ground her humanity.

"I chose two inches to the left of none of your business."  She sounded delighted to sass him so.  Her smirk equally pleased.  She slipped the prepared black in into the test tube holder next to the blue.  She had only the yellow and white left to prepare.  In due time.  She left her work to go over to the cabinet.  Pulling out a fresh glass.  A pause and a sigh.  She pulled out a second glass.  One she balanced on top of her Saint Germain liquor.  She pulled a second bottled out of another cabinet.  It was a larger bottle of the whiskey that she had given to him to drink when she made his mark.  It had pleased him.  So in a moment of simpering affection she had bought a bottle to keep in her room should he visit again.  Both bottles she carried over to the table.  She set the whiskey and glass in front of him without a word.  Pouring her own drink of choice and drinking down a shot of it immediately.  Then she started to blend the yellow ink.  "I will need you to bare you mark to me."

"Thank you." He poured himself a glass of the whiskey and took a sip form the amber liquid before without question he started to unbutton his shirt, though he only did so down enough so that the mark on his chest was clearly visible. "I only asked because I must know for the rite. What will imbue your mark as it needs to be."  With his mark shown to her he produced from a pocket  bit salt, which he sprinkled over the table, placing his hands on either side of the salt and took a deep breath his power rising within the kitchen.

He could be sure that she was thankful for his modest unbuttoning.  She had no need to see the full of his chest.  "I know why you ask."  Being difficult gave her enjoyment.  He should know this.  She left him there in the kitchen to briefly go into the bathroom.  Picking up a simple hair clip she slid it downward over the center of her shirt.  Pushing the red tank down to bunch the fabric lower she closed the clip.  It essentially turned the shirt into a low v-neck.  Baring the flesh between her two breasts without baring the flesh of the breasts themselves.  It was in the space between, an inch below the large web on her sternum, that she would place the mark.  Placing hers near to the heart as his was.  Coming out of the bathroom she placed her left palm over the mark on his chest.  Fingertips of her right hand touching the area where she wished the crest to be placed on her.  A breath inward as she drew the power, and she executed it with a simple command.  "Ik reopen."  When she removed her fingers Jamison would have the answer to his question.  A perfect replica in size on the location she chose.  It would serve as her stencil.  That completed she turned back to her ink to mix the final ink, the white.

[The Spider]

"Ah, yes." Was all he said when she made the stencil, a slow nod, offered to his daughter. He knew that she liked to be difficult; how could he expect her not to be, despite his efforts, for some reason, she still felt the need to give him grief at any opportunity. Though he wouldn't say anymore on the subject. He did reach forth and press two fingers to the stencil a word whispered with power and his hand went back down to the table. Eyes closed once again, and he went back to channeling the energies.

It was her way. And in her blood. She was her Mother's daughter. She had just slid the last test tube into the holder when he pressed his fingers to her chest. It drew a small gasp from her. The touch had caught her off guard. The number of times a man had touched her in the past decades could be counted on ten fingers at the most. Then she came here. Jamison had touched her several times. In the name of affection before now. She simply wasn't used to it. A shiver ran through her. It was the effect of his power. Her own eyes closed. She steadied herself. Turning back to the table. She took out one of her sterilized needling tools. Loading it with the black ink. Pulling out a sterilized white cloth. She tested the instrument on the cloth before sitting down. Pouring herself another shot, she took it before she got comfortable in the chair. Chin pressed down, Spider began the work of outlining the mark. Whatever webs on her body she was able to ink herself she had. So she was used to marking her own flesh.

Jamison continued to channel up energy the whiskey he couldn't drink at the moment, though maybe afterwards he'd take more then a couple shots. When his eyes opened the energy he was channeling in the room, would die down, he drew it within his own body, opening his eyes and fixing his gaze where she was making her mark. And she would feel the energy pouring into her work while she worked.

Spider was an absolute fool to make this bargain with him. She hadn't considered the full meaning of it. To ink her own flesh and hone her own power in the mark was one thing. It was a familiar act to her and it was in her control. To be flooded by Jamison's power to a degree she'd never felt before was another matter entirely. Would he feel through his magical energy how much it unsettled her? Tension riddled her body like a rubber band stretched to the near point of breaking. Because her body wanted to quake. Maybe even rack with sobs. But she couldn't allow that. It would mar the marking. And she refused to let him see the emotions the tension bottled in. How ironic since these two markings were a bond which made him guardian of her humanity. Considering she wouldn't allow it to show in front of him. Spider set her jaw so tightly it hurt. It kept her focused. The black ink outlined the mark without mistake or blemish.

Jamison could not only sense her unease through the push of his magical energy into her marking while she worked, but he was not blind. He saw it in her posture, when he opened his eyes to watch his channeling. It pained him to see his daughter as such. But this was something that needed to be done.

She would weather it. She had to. She had made the bargain with him and she was bound by her Fae blood to fulfill it. She had come here originally to accuse her Father of being responsible for Zalina's disappearance. And this is what came of her arrival. She was residing here in this off-putting land in an inn with her rooms paid for by a man she thought she despised. A man who'd picked through her wards just to make sure she was tucked in, protected and comfortable during the greatest trial of the year for her. Don't think about it. That was Spider's decision. Concentrate only on Channeling her power into the mark with each prick of the needle. Just as she'd done with his mark. To catalyze the ink and enable it to become a magical totem, open to Father's power. Because she was used to this process and was no stranger to its pain she worked the needle faster than she had on him. Waiting as long as she could before she paused to blot for the first time. By the time she did that the mark was already halfway outlined.

It didn't hurt that Spider had changed her wards before she put herself under, or at least Jamison thought she did. as he thought them far too easy to sneak past. especially for a Wizardess of her power. Jamison thought not much of it. Especially since it allowed him to watch over her in her sleep. He continued his channeling. creating a link that she would feel grow, it wasn't just to him, it would be to the family as a whole, a growing knowledge of the endeavors of her ancestor among over things.

She had changed her wards. She'd removed one entirely. Adjusted the others so that they would still be effective against other intruders but breakable by a Warden. It was her way of admitting she wanted him as part of her life even in these moments when she felt too vulnerable to comfortably bear his presence. The link to him. It felt similar to the energy tie he had on her when she was a little girl. His way of being watchful over her activities and making sure she was safe, would this do the same? The link alone was enough to make her eyes burn. Aching to cry she tensed her body tighter to keep her eyes from leaking as they wanted to. She was so rigidly wound she could barely breathe. The outline was finished and she was now filling in all other areas that were black. She didn't make a sound. There were sound that wanted to escape but her tension kept such from happening.

Jamison watched her, her movements were tense her body looked to be so full of it. "Carolyn... you look extraordinarily tensed..." He paused his speaking to steady his flow of magic into her mark as it started to fluctuate. "... would you like to take a break for a moment?" Jamison did care. and she really did look very uncomfortable as she worked on her own mark.

"No." It was almost growled. She hadn't intended the gravel of her voice. He was right. She was extraordinarily tensed and there was further proof. "I am still working the black." She had yet to pause to blot the mark in progress. The blood was dripping down her flesh towards her dress. She would pause long enough to take care of that. A single blot. Cloth dropped back on her thigh. Needle pressed to her flesh and she continued. Fierce determination to focus only on channeling her power with each press of the needle to catalyze the ink so he could continue to build the link between them. She blinked, hard. Gaze did not leave her work.

Jamison watched her work. Continuing his channeling. He couldn't stop as long as she was working. Which is why sometimes magic sucked, because if he stopped channeling while she was inking, then the entire rite would have meant nothing and then she would have a mark that served only as a physical reminder that her father failed her.

She knew that. It's why she kept working. The more she paused the more he'd tell her how tense she was and didn't he think she knew that already? Lips were deep in a frown. Brow low in the same. She was boiling inside. It wasn't like Summer heat. He was working magic on her humanity. Pulling it upward with all its faults weaknesses and emotions so he could bind himself to it. Adding himself to her and his bloodline. It was a lot to bear considering her time in this strange land had not been happy but for small moments. How much of it could he feel? She was too proud to ask. He probably couldn't answer now anyway. She needled herself quickly. The pain was the least of this trial. She liked the pain of the needle. It had helped her deal with her emotions every since the first web was inked just above her sex after the incident with the American. When the black was complete she blotted once. Inspecting the work to make sure she missed no areas in the stencil. Then she stood. Needle discarded to the side she picked up a fresh one and would load the next color. The blue.

When she stopped and stood Jamison would stop as well, also standing from his seat. "Carolyn... perhaps we should take a break... What has brought you so much tension?" She didn't look this tense when she did his mark. Which begs the question he chose to ask. He really did worry about his daughter more often then he let on.

His mark was different. He'd worked the magic on himself. "I didn't think this through completely. I don't trust you." Emphasis on trust. "Not when it comes the most private parts of my self. My Fae blood. Once bitten." She would let him complete the saying on his own. "You may go through all this trouble establishing this bond to protect my humanity and realize it's not something you want to protect. I'm nothing like how you thought your child was going to be. You can't tell me I am. There's no sense in pretense." She hadn't intended to say so much to him. Once her tongue started it all flooded out from her. The result of what was bubbling up because of the enchantment he worked. The power of his line. Which she felt so alien from. She was able to keep her tone even and controlled because she didn't look at him. She couldn't look at him. Tears would fall then and she refused. Half of her hatred, if it truly was hatred, for him was because of her fear that he hated who she was. The next needle was loaded and tested on the cloth and she sat down intending to continue.

"It is stupid for a wizard to imagine how his child is going to be... we live for a very long time, and a lot can happen in that time...as you know" It hurt to hear her say all of those things but he did sit back down, placing his hands where they where before. "I'm not a man who makes hasty choices Spider… I think your humanity is something that should be defended... Everyone's humanity should be defended... Know that I love you. I would never try to rob you of who you are... are you ready to continue?"

Hurt him? It hurt HER. To feel this way about the man who used to be her hero. As was true for all little girls who had a father like Jamison LeFey. "No. I'm not. Let me point out what I hear in your words that tells me otherwise. You think my humanity is something that should be defended because everyone's should be." Emphasis on everyone. "Not because of what my own humanity is. There is also a difference between not trying to rob me of who I am and accepting me for who I am." Emphasis on accepting. "Your word choices show me the holes. You've stood against me before when I've made a choice you didn't like. What prevents you from using this bond you create to squeeze my humanity into what you think is more acceptable behavior when I act out of your beliefs again?" Part of this was about their history. The other part was about her issues with control. Fear that this mark would give him the kind of control over her that she just described.

Jamison steeled himself for that hit ."Carolyn, I can think one thing, that does not mean that I'm going to do it...There is a reason that I volunteered to defend yours, You are my daughter." That was his reason for wanting to defend her humanity, that and the fact that he saw in herself that she feared losing her balance forever. "If I did not stand up during your trial Carolyn... you would have died that day. We would have died that day..." He had said that to her many times before, in fact, he said it every time she tried to accuse him of standing up against her. Ironic that the thing she used against him, is the thing that is the reason she's able to use it against him. "This mark isn't a form of control Carolyn... Its meant to serve as a reminder of what links you to this side of who you are... in the times where you fear you're lost... I asked not to do this for my own benefit... but for your own."

Or did Jamison think that's what she was trying to use against him. Because it's not what she was talking about now. So how many other times when he assumed that was she actually talking about something else? "Piss on the trial, Warden. I was talking about my love of women. Which is part of who I am. Which is what I'm talking about. Not that fecking trial." She was done with this line of conversation. She felt sorry for even speaking what she had already. Needle was positioned in her hand for her work and she started to ink the areas which called for blue. Considering the speed she was inking with and the fact that black was the majority of the mark it would not be much longer before the crest was finished. She swallowed thickly. She did hear what Jamison said. This mark was to help her keep her balance. To strengthen the influence Jamison had on keeping her two halves equalized. She understood that intellectually. She wasn't feeling very intellectual right now. Most of the emotions boiling within stirred up by this process had not been properly dealt with, as he'd earlier suspected.

When she started to ink her skin again, Jamison started to channel again. After all he had to channel it with every bit of inking or the entire thing was pointless. "I've not spoken ill of your love for women in decades." It may have only been like two or three decades, but it was a while. "I offered my assistance to find your wife, my daughter in law... swore that upon my power... I've been taking greater steps to accept that side of you. I'm sorry Carolyn, for how I've acted about it in the past, but i am trying to make amends for it." His words where soft, but steady, he was after all trying to channel energy at the same time.

"When I have a child I am determined to spare them the pain of knowing that their Mother has to take steps to accept them for who they are." Emphasis on take steps. That phrasing was like a knife. That truth of her Father's was what fueled Spider to inflict pain and hurt on him. "That you have to try. That it isn't effortless...why should I..." She shook her head. No more. She wasn't speaking any more about this. Why should she want her humanity, that would've been the full sentence. The ironic cold of the Summer Fae blood numbed her to pains like the one she'd just voiced. When Jamison used to be her world a long time ago it cracked her heart to know it wasn't easy for him to accept who she was. Which is why despite the growth that had happened between them since she'd been here in Rhy'din she was leery to open herself completely to any of it. Why release her grudges against him to love him completely when he had to try in order to do it for her? There was no point in discussing it. Spider was convinced any hopes of joy between she and him were shattered and irrevocably broken. All her focus was put into the needling. Already she was nearly done with the blue. She was coloring her skin with an urgent vigor. Causing considerable pain. Which lead to satisfaction.

The difference was, that Jamison didn't see himself as harboring any grudges... he had let go of those long ago. He didn't know what to do. he had tried everything in order to mend the broken bridge between them, yet she seemed absolutely determined to see that it remained broken. Jamison had words that he knew he could use against her. But being that he was a bridge mender he bit them back. "I've accepted who you are Spider... I did not like it for a great many years... that did not stop me from accepting who you are and loving you every day of your life." His point being that he accepted long ago her choice. And while he thought it was a bad one, he accepted it.

[The Spider]

It was good he didn't voice that he felt her sexual preference a bad choice.  They'd never speak again if he did.  With what he did say her lips were pressed tightly together.  To prevent her from saying anything more.  Or from screaming.  Spider kept a tight leash on herself, yet a good throat-ripping scream was sometimes very satisfying.  She would have it.  Later.  After this damned mark was done.  She pulled the needled away plotting the mark with the white cloth.  Her examination of it was longer than before.  Colored ink on her flesh.  Lips were white from how hard she pressed them against each other.  She stood.  Wordlessly taking a fresh device.  Loading the yellow ink.  Making efficient business of it.  Testing it on the cloth before she sat down.  She resumed the needlework.

Jamison also remained wordless through her work. he hadn't said anything else. There wasn't much else to be said at the moment. It was trying, enchanting a mark, when your mind was divided like his was at the moment.

If neither one of them had the desire to speak then silence would remain through the inking of the yellow in the mark.  The accent color it took a fraction of the time.  As before she blotted the mark.  Examined it to make sure it was properly filled.  This time there was one spot that needed a touch up before she was out of her chair and loading the final color.  The white that she would use as a highlight to give the mark the illusion of depth.  She had the urge to slam and make loud noise of her work as she discarded the device loaded with the yellow to pick up a fresh needling device for the white but she refrained.  Mostly.  Spider didn't even bother to sit as she used the white to accent.  Only a few spots needed such highlighting.  The mark would be done in another five minutes at most.

Jamison watched her work. He still remained silent while she added her accents to her mark. Eyes fixed on her body while she worked, channeling the energy into her mark required to strengthen her connection to the family. The enchantment really was extraordinarily brilliant. In ways Spider could not understand just yet. Which was part of the reason it took so much energy, another part was that Enchantment was never truly permanent this one would last at least three or four hundred years. Hopefully long enough.

Jamison won himself the pleasure of being only man in decades to stare at her for such a duration without suffering some fashion of injury.  Because she didn't sit down her back was half turned from him.  In this way she could hide most of her face from his examination.  Her current expression was none of his business.  Focused on two things.  Her breathing and channeling her own energy into the ink.  Both of these things served as a distraction.  Helped her try to ignore the overwhelming amount of power Father was pouring into the enchantment.  The level of work he was doing is what had waved the read flag earlier.  Fueled her accusation about control.  Though she didn't know what he was working into the connection she did knew it was more than their initial bargain.  But she also knew it was not in violation of the terms of said bargain.  If it was a violation Father would be unable to do what he was doing.  The bind of the magical contract wouldn't allow it.  Work complete Spider tossed the needle down on the table. Enjoying the heavy careless clatter.  She was done.

Of course it wasn't a violation, Jamison would never even try to test the limits of a magic contract sword upon ones own power. When she was finished Jamison uttered a few sentences in a language that came across as the bastard cousin of ancient Celtic, and the language of the Summer Court of the Fae. And Spider would feel a great wave of Energy pour into her body in a sudden wave. Jamison stood then. His power in the room dying down with drawing back into him. "It is done...How do you feel?"  He asked that returned then to the journal he had been reading when she awoke. She would not feel any different outwardly maybe perhaps a bit of a buzz from the fact he had just channel;ed a great deal of energy into her.

A full body shiver was the result of the energy wave he directed at her.  She had never felt one of its power before.  This was also the deepest she had allowed anyone to work their magic on her.  Conflicting feelings about Jamison aside he was the only she trusted.  Spider's trust was one thing Jamison had that Eolande did not.  Even if it was a wary trust.  Her truth was that she felt dizzy.  No one could have that much power directed at them and have their bearings immediately after.  Besides the Warden perhaps?  Spider had reached for one of her two cases to get gauze lotion and so on but the hand fell short.  She pressed both palms instead against the table.  Her lean forward was very slight.  Though she wanted to she didn't closer her eyes.  Solstice had just passed.  Her body had already battled a lot of power in the past three days.  Why she was finding Jamison's hard to weather maybe.  "Fine."  The word was vague enough that if she used it alone her tongue would be able to speak it as truth.  "Another success.  One for your journals?"  Emphasis on journal.  With sardonic tone.  She didn't like writing.  He knew that.  Did he know she kept journals anyway?  Her conscience wouldn't allow her to transgress from that tradition. 

"Of course, but then again, I write everything in my journals." Which was more or less true. He did keep a lot of journals, and had kept them for most of his life. which meant that there where a lot. Which was nothing new. especially for him. As for learning she wrote journals it actually might knock him on his ass, considering the hell she gave him for writing in his own so diligently. "You should read this one... it is a most compelling read... it focuses a great deal on our ancestor." Little did she know it was precisely the journal where Jamison got his idea from. "Would you like something to drink? or eat?"

"From what I saw of your journals during the time you were with Mother, not everything.  Unless my conception was immaculate."  Of course Spider would read those journals first.  Rather than going in chronological order.  That comment would've came with a smirk if the room wasn't spinning.  Trying not to look like she was taking things slowly she picked up one hand from the table to reach for the case again.  Lotion was slowly pulled out.  Cap flipped open with her thumb.  She maneuvered the bottle in her hand to turn it upside-down so she could squirt lotion with her palm without using her other hand.  She needed to keep it where it was to stabilize her vertigo.  His question was a good one.  She hadn't eaten for three days.  Another reason the wave of energy had such great effects and gave her dizziness.  But she gave a difficult answer.  "I'm not...interested in food."  After not eating for three days she was hungry.  So the word wouldn't come off her tongue.  To say she wasn't hungry would have been a lie, and lies she couldn't tell.  Bottle set on the table she rubbed the lotion thickly over the freshly inked mark. "I intend to read all of them. It's why they and I share these quarters." A reminder for Jamison of his journals stacked against her west wall.

"You may not be interested in food, but you didn't answer my question." Jamison stepped around the table, and started towards her cabinets to search for something to eat. And yes he was planning on preparing it for her. "Most of the activities between your mother and I are more suited for less reputable publications…" A smile over his shoulder at her before his attention went back to his search. "I'm glad to hear you plan on reading them all, means I'll see you around for quite a while."

"I absolutely did.  You asked if I would like something and I said I wasn't interested.  Check, Warden."  She sounded very smug.  Spider could eat her own triumph just as well as any food.  He would not find very much in her cabinets.  Condiments and spices, pasta and rice.  One cabinet was clearly not food.  The bottles there were labeled in her own invented shorthand to mark her potions.  So that she knew what they were but others didn't.  There were at least eight potions in there ready for use.  Jamison would find most of her food in the ice box.  Fresh vegetables and fruits.  She rolled her eyes when he made the joke about shag mags.  With her back mostly to him he probably didn't see it.  At least she kept any comments to herself.  It was his last remark that made her bristle.  A pained grimace followed.  The shift of her energies inside and around her made her full body throb.  Waking up after the Solstice to put herself under his magical scalpel was a bad idea.  Excess lotion she rubbed into her arm.  Then that same hand pulled out the gauze, and the tape.  If she didn't have to she wouldn't be taking her time with this.  If she felt herself she'd make quick business of gauzing her tattoo to shoo Jamison out the door.  In her current state her goals were more modest.  Getting to her bed to lay down.  Or even the couch.  Gauze first.

"Touché Carolyn..." Jamison said with a nod, closing her cabinets and moving over to the ice box, which he pulled open pulling from it an apple... which he tossed up and caught before offering it over to her. "Do you need help?" the apple offered over was instead placed on the table before her.

The one benefit was that she'd inked herself so many times before.  One hand occupied with only the other to do the tasks of making a mark of power.  She was currently pulling pieces of tape and tearing them with one hand.  Sticking them on the edge of the table for later use.  It was awkward but she managed it.  "Help?"  She said the word with distain.  A scoff.  "With what?"  Emphasis on what.  Like she was challenging him to name whatever it was that she clearly wasn't seeing.  Of course she wasn't taking the apple.  She needed that steadying hand against the table.  She was light-headed from the three day rest and still shaken from the level of magic Jamison had worked into the fresh crest on her.  Tape set down she picked up the gauze.  Square piece was placed lightly over the mark.  Just enough that the lotion would hold it in place.  As she pressed strips of tape on the edges one by one. 

And without missing a beat Jamison was able to speak up  with a nice retort in reply. "Steadying yourself so that you don't fall over." He was an observant man and he noticed how she was doing all of that with one hand, and steadying herself against the table. He did however pull a chair around and offered it to her. "It might be easier if you sit down."

"I'm not going to fall over."  Crisp British indigence.  Emphasis on fall over.  With a scoff serving as the end punctuation.  She didn't refuse that she was using her hand to steady herself.  She couldn't.  That was the truth.  She was stubborn.  She finished taping the gauze to her chest.  Holding her chin up high after she was done.  Then sitting.  Suggesting through actions that she was sitting now only because she was done with her business.  Not because he suggested it.  She plucked the apple from him with a small sideways glance.  Setting it down on the table.  Ignoring her light-headedness she focused on the marking on her right forearm.  One she didn't get to use as often as she would like to.  "Striemen.  Striemen."  Hissed under breath.  The power shot from her.  The apple was sliced in quarters.  The slices fell to the table.  The inner meat of the apple was browned.  Scent of cooked apple in the air.  Signs she'd used Fire to do that shredding.  Depending on the situation that mark powered by fire could be used to very dark ends.  She picked up one of the slices.  Ate it seeds skin and all.  None would be wasted.

Jamison smiled, he absolutely knew better. "Thank you." And he stepped to the other side of the table and sat down him, raising a brow at the display. "Impressive, your culinary skills always did outshine my own. I imagine I may have made the poor apple explode... which is not to say I do not enjoy apple sauce, it is simply not in the manner am accustomed to."

Current mouthful of apple was chewed and swallowed before she replied.  "I didn't have kitchen activities in mind when I inked this mark, Father."  She suspected he knew that.  That his remarks were being coy.  She preferred to be direct.  About this at least.  "But it was your teaching that put it to such use now.  That any magic a Wizard thinks is for one purpose can actually be applied scores more purposes not yet imagined."  She consumed the rest of the apple slice.  The sweetness made her stomach hurt.  Not because it was bad.  Because it was good and it woke her appetite up.  Her hunger was hitting her full force.  She didn't cram food in her mouth not even when she was this hungry.  She took a dignified pace.  Honey-bright eyes watching the window which had curtains drawn back.  "It will be dawn before long."  It was likely four in the morning.  Gaze traded to watch Father's face instead.

[The Spider]

"This is true. Magic has infinite possibilities in practical use. As well as impractical uses. That was a great use. I'm very proud of you Carolyn." Jamison was probably going to try that when he got a chance. of course under controlled conditions as he said, he would probably make the apple explode. He glanced out the window for a moment as well. "It will be... perhaps i should get a few hours of sleep."

She lofted her brow at him.  He was proud of her.  She ate another slice of apple.  Trading her gaze between the window and him.  She nodded when he said he should get sleep.  That is what she was implying.  She didn't no more than nod.  No words necessary.  She wasn't going to rush the silence.  Chewing in peace.  Watching out the window her eyes sank closed.  What was a blink turned into resting her eyes.  It wasn't until her head started to tilt forward that she realized.  Sitting up straight in her chair opening eyes wide awake.  "I will get you a blanket."  She moved to ease out of her chair.  With the way he was lingering here it was an assumption on her part that he would take his sleep on her couch.  She hadn't the energy to protest that possibility.  Maybe what she'd name an assumption was a desire to have Jamison continue the watch he'd begun while she was sleeping.

Jamison was willing to sleep on her couch, and he even gave a yawn to show he was maybe getting sleepy. "Thank you." Jamison stood up then, picking up his journal again as well as his glasses. Yes, he was planning on reading to her again. He didn't think she would be tired being that she slept for the past three days. Truth be told though he didn't right know what she went through.

Yawns were contagious.  She tried to stifle her own.  Standing with care.  The apple slices helped.  The natural sugars feeding her body and lifting the light-headedness of an empty stomach.  The passage of time had helped the power of Father's magic settle in her.  She felt most of it concentrated around the mark now, and her vertigo had eased.  Neither of these things changed the fact she was exhausted.  She'd been asleep for three days but only a sleep that was magically induced.  Much like being sedated for a surgery, it wasn't a real rest.  She opened the door to her bedroom, slipping inside.  A moment later she came out with a blanket and a pillow.  These she put on the couch for Jamison.  "Dicht." Spoken to release her power.  Jamison would feel magical energy sealing over anything that could be opened.  Drawers closets and cabinet for example.  She looked satisfied.  "If you attempt to open anything I will know."

"Of course you will, But I don't think I'll be doing much rifling through your things." Though he was sure he could find some way around her enchantment if he really really wanted to. "Thank you." And he set the pillow on the arm of the couch away from the door, spreading out the blanket. Taking a seat on the couch, in order to remove his shoes which he placed right next to the couch. Offering another small yawn.

"You won't now."  Replied with a curt smirk.  There was an advantage to using the enchantments which were tied specifically to her markings.  Those enchantments were tied to her by a thread of energy.  If she had been awake when he'd picked through her wards protecting her quarters she would've known.  She would know if he tried to pick through the one protecting her openables.  "Sleep tight Father."  Emphasis on tight.  Spider turned to retire in her bedroom.  Stripping the bed of its sheets.  She'd had fever sweats the past three days so she wanted fresh linens.  Taking the extra set from the closet she put the fitted sheet on and would use the other sheet as a blanket.  It was summer, it would do as a covering.

"Of course I wont. I'd never dream of it Carolyn." When she went into her room Jamison saw her stripping her bed he stood up then, moving to join her and help her to set her bed back up carrying his journal in with him. "How about a story to fall asleep to?"

Wasn't he a noble parent.  Able to resist the urge of rifling through his child's things.  Shock was in her eyes when he walked into her chambers for the second time tonight.  "Liggen."  Quickly spoken with three taps against the closest wall.  Jamison would feel the pressure that was about to lash at him drop suddenly.  "I told you this room was not friendly to men, Father.  You should be more careful."  It was one of the more sincere things she'd spoken to him since she'd arrived here.  Even if she was ruffled.  When he went to finish fixing her bed she resumed the task as well.  Pulling the top sheet straight over the mattress and then turning it down.  When he asked her about reading to her, Spider's gaze shot upwards to stare at him.  Lips parted.  From their shape and the hardness of her gaze it was easily guessed that she was going to speak caustically.  Whatever those words were, she decided not to speak them.  Turning her eyes to the task of fluffing her pillows.  "I wanted to stay in your room while I was sleeping."  She'd meant to admit that more vaguely by saying she'd considered it, but the truth was she'd known her want plainly and she was bound by blood to speak truthfully.  "I decided that relieving you from the burden of having to deal with me was a more appropriate Father's Day gift."  Spider sat down on her bed, maneuvering herself underneath the top sheet.

"Aparetus." Jamison was raising his own power to beat down the spell that was readied at her  attack upon wherever her ward would lash out. But when she pushed it back, he stopped and bit back his own counter spell. "Silly me, I'm sorry... You know, I would have welcomed you Carolyn... Know that I would never have seen such as anything more then a gift..." When Carolyn down down into her bed. He leaned over and started to tuck her in as he had when she was a girl.

She regretted disengaging the ward once she saw that he was going to battle it.  Her enjoyment of watching magical wars and battles would've won out over her concern for him.  It was just like when she was small and she always wanted to see him work even when he said it was too dangerous.  "Then you enjoy sadistic gifts.  My bile towards you is a far cry from a tie or watch."  Named as traditional gifts to give a Father.  "The little girl you named Carolyn and tucked in every night...I don't feel like her.  Sometimes I don't even believe that I was ever that girl at all.  That time seems more like a film than a memory."  She felt detached from it.  He had to be told this because this wasn't the first time he'd tucked her in since she'd come here.  It was the third.  Spider suspected he put up with her hateful behavior because he thought one day it would give him his little Linny back.  He deserved to know that wasn't going to happen.

"I never said that I did not... and I've no need for a tie or a watch, ever since they turned over to the bloody digital standard. I cant seem to get one to work for longer then a month. That is understandable... because you're not that girl... Just as I am not the young boy I was so long ago... Time and experiences mold us throughout our lives. good or bad it is through our experiences that we can learn." Jamison had no illusions about getting his little girl back. He accepted that a long time ago. That didn't mean that he couldn't show her that he loved her by showing her how much he cared. Jamison held his hands over her body, and closed his eyes, channeling over her the same protection spell he always did.

"Besides hiding here you seem unchanged."  Not that such was a small detail.  Never would Spider have guessed he'd distance himself so far from the White Counsel and his duties.  But she didn't know him as a boy.  She only new her Father as a man.  She said nothing about learning through experiences.  Instead she laid down.  Settled herself and did not protest as Jamison worked his energy of protection around her.  She closed her eyes.  Head turned away from him.  Thinking back to her childhood.  The girl that she was that used to lay in her bed and feel this blanket of protection circle around her every night feeling calmed, safe, loved.  Similar emotions rose within her now, just as they had the first night she'd come here when Jamison did this.  But they were braided with hesitation and wariness now.  That was the change.  She was afraid Jamison would turn his back on her if she opened herself to him again.

"I haven't killed any children ..." He said that softly, taking his seat at her side. putting his glasses on and opening the journal in his hands. He didn't finish that thought but he meant it to imply that he did change because of that fact. "The Merlin was away today, and the Wardens where  guarding the gates through the nevernever. Which left his Chambers completely unguarded.  It was not difficult to entice such a worry. Being wed to a child of the fae does have his benefits in that respect. Why I found myself picking past the Merlin's wards into his office lay in a text it was rumored he had, a text written by Morganna... and It was a text i would have seen returned where it belonged."

Even if he didn't start reading she would have said nothing.  What need would there have been?  He knew exactly how she felt about the White Council and its high-horse ways and Wardens.  Eyes remained closed while she heard the shuffling of Father sitting at her bedside.  To hear him read his journals was very different than what he read to her as a little girl when he'd used her begging for bedtime reading as way to read the books she put up such a fuss against studying.  She had read some of his journals and so she had expectations for what he was about to read to her.  To hear that this was a chronicle of stealing a book written by her great-great-great grandmother... Spider turned her head back towards Father and stared at him with a mixed expression.  She was definitely perplexed.  Already she wanted to go on a similar mission.  If Jamison had that book she would get her hands on it.  She had no great love of books but one penned by Morgana, that was different.

"It was no small feat of pride when the last of the Wards cracked and shattered at my poking and prodding. The Merlin's personal guard was old weathered and like a typical scott boasted far too much about his particular strengths. The Door swung open and clicked shut behind my entrance. of course the same wards came up as soon as the door shut. they wouldn't be a problem. my attention then went to the massive bookshelf. Thousands of tomes, most of which old enough to have been written by ancient Romans... several emblazoned by the ancient signature of the Original Merlin. But of course there was no such signature on the book he wanted to see. Any stories of Morganna, showed that she valued secrecy worshipped it even, of course she wouldn't put her name on a tome... Which narrowed it down just a bit, all I needed to do was go through the hundreds of tomes without any words on their spines.

He had her attention.  Did he know what was going through her mind as he read this to her?  Each bit of information about the book that he spoke she repeated to herself three times.  To help her store it in her memory.  She said nothing.  Easing back into her former position. Slipping her eyes closed.  Visualizing the scene Jamison read to her would also help her remember.  This she did.  This was no true bedtime story.  So long as he was giving her information about her great's book she was not going to drift off to sleep.

"Eolande had promised me that she would do all in her ability to as she put it, keep the rabble entertained. Which meant that I did have as much time as I wanted." A pause, in his reading, Jamison glancing over at her laying down and turning the page. "Esper aided me in my search,  where I was able to skim, each word of every tome I tugged from its home the spirit was able to commit those words to her ever growing memory of infinite knowledge. Two hours I looked and still i could not locate my book. Some would liken this task to a fool's errand. A stop, starting at the wall of books, what else did I know about Morgana LeFey? Morgana knew the value of misdirection… that realization brought my attention to a black leather bound book, no title of author, just the Crest of Family PenDragon, with gold inlay."

If he looked over at her he'd catch her frown.  It wasn't of anger.  It was closer to a pout, remorseful.  Because this was a story that involved her Mother.  Spider was reading all these journals first but that didn't mean it was easy for her.  It stirred up pains to read of a time when Father and Mother were together.  Especially when it hadn't mattered enough to them to remain together for her.  Her eyes were closed still so the frown was all Jamison could observe.  To chase these thoughts away she refocused herself on what Jamison read.  Misdirection.  Black leather bound book with the crest of the family pendragon.  These bits of information she repeated silently to herself three times.

It wasn't easy for Jamison to do it either. he didn't like reading of good times shared with the woman who betrayed him like she did." Opening the Pendragon emblazoned book, it contained words written in a language I couldn't understand... I couldn't understand it, and neither could Esper... But of course that did not stop her from committing every word in the book to memory. locked away in the steel trap of the mind. I didn't know it then but the language was one created by Morgana LeFey. in order to protect her secrets. It was a language that no Wizard alone would be able to decipher. as it contained Syntax  and grammar from the language used by the Sidhe of the Summer court of the fae. as well as borrowing from Latin." Latin being the language that all wizarding business was conducted in.

He did have the book.  The language he spoke in earlier that she had never heard before.  That had to be the one from Morgana.  Spider would fall asleep with dreams of thieving the book from him.  In her opinion it was hers.  She was the one between them who still had her Fae blood alive as a changeling.  If she wasn't so tired she'd pursue the matter now.  A first attempt, verbally.  A deep breath drawn in through her nostrils, and out again.  She remained silent.  Kept her eyes closed.  Attempting to lay none of her cards on the table.

Jamison took a break reading the book, glancing over at his daughter. She was silent and her breathing was regular. As far as Jamison knew she was asleep.  He closed the book then and set it down on her night stand. his glasses set down on top of the book. "Sleep well Carolyn... spirits guard you and keep your sleep restful..." Jamison said that, placing a hand softly on her forehead  and willed another protective spell over her. Stepping back, and after a moment returning to the living room.

He had set the book down.  She heard it softly placed on the table beside her bed.  If she wanted to she could roll over and read it once he left her room.  Maybe she intended to.  But while she wasn't asleep when Jamison touched her head and wrapped the second blanket of protection around her it wasn't long after he went into the living room that her thoughts about the book he'd been reading to her about turned into dreams.  The sleep that washed over her was much more peaceful than the one she'd induced to last for three days.  For the first time in a very long time some of that serenity came from the knowledge that should anything happen, Father was right there.  Not that she'd ever admit that was a comfort.

End

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