Asgard logs, more.

[x-jubilee.livejournal.com]

Coming across a Dark Elven camp, the group (by now, Marie-Ange, Shiro, Jamie, Miles, Rahne and Doug) rescue Jubilee and Angelo



Jubilee noticed the strangers entering the camp first, quickly looking them over for any signs of hostility. They appeared somewhat weary and the hems of their cloaks were muddy. It appeared they'd been traveling for some time. 'Merchants?' she wondered, floating up from her position by the front of Jarrod's dwelling and opening the door with a brief wave of her hand.

"Jarrod! We have company."

Marie-Ange slid down off her horse, inspecting the small camp curiously. On one hand, they were distressingly low on food. On the other, she had a -very- bad feeling about dealing with any group where their camp was this ostentatious. On the third - not that she had a third hand, but Memory's wing counted, the bird had in its usual fashion, given her a good sharp peck on the shoulder just before they had come across the clearing.

It would have helped if she understood what the pecks meant. It would have helped more if trying to figure out what the bird was getting on at didn't involve a vast amount of pain.  "Not to sound like I am quoting silly movies, but I have a -bad- feeling about this." she said quietly and very deliberately in English.

Doug watched Marie-Ange very carefully.  When your girlfriend is precognitive, you tend to pay attention to her 'bad feelings'.  The group had agreed earlier, that, barring Jamie speaking to any dwarves they met, that Doug would be the spokesman of the party, with his ability to speak the tongue of any group they might encounter.  The party halted at the very edge of the camp, attempting to look as nonthreatening as possible, while they waited for someone to appear and speak with them.

Jamie studied the camp suspiciously, the pencil-sized compact version of his staff tucked into his right sleeve.  The place just _looked_ wrong, on top of Angie's apparent wiggins and the bird being uppity . . . and maybe he was imagining things, but the lack-of-presence in the background that he'd started attributing to Rahne's wolf pack was a lot more . . . wary-feeling than usual; he was getting the impression that "you can't see them until it's too late" was definitely shading toward the "it's too late" end of the spectrum.  He flexed his left hand, making sure his fingertips were dry; if he needed them, he wanted reinforcements only a finger-snap away.

Jubilee crouched in the small window, glancing outside as she felt the heat from Jarrod standing behind her. She studied the faces of those that she had thought were merchants and realized that they were familiar.

She turned to Jarrod. "~I do not believe these merchants have anything for us.~"

Jarrod raised an eyebrow. "~Do you have some power to read minds now?~"


Doug stepped out in front of the group and raised his voice.  "Hello the camp!" he called in Norse.  "We are simple travelers, seeking trade and information.  We mean no harm."  He kept a watchful eye out, though.  Just because _he_ didn't mean harm didn't mean that the inhabitants of the camp would be so accommodating.

Jarrod stood in the doorway and looked out at the merchants. "~Simply because you state something, does not make it so, stranger. What proof do you hold that you are mere travelers?"

Doug grimaced at the arrogance inherent at the dark elf's body language.  And it was definitely a dark elf from the language he was speaking.  "~Simply because you disbelieve something does not make it false either, milord.  I am called Aron Hugaldrsson, a simple skald who travels bringing tales, song, and news throughout the land.  May I assume that I have the honor of speaking to the headman of this camp?~"  Being polite and diplomatic to such an arrogant being stuck in Doug's craw a bit, but discretion was the better part of valor, after all.

"You do indeed have the honor, and you are certainly a simple skald. My pet tells me you are merchants, and I would certainly like to see if you have anything that piques my interest. I grow ever so bored..." Jarrod waved a hand airily. If nothing else, these merchants might provide him some amusements over the night.

Doug's grimace deepened.  Arrogant didn't even begin to describe this Dark Elf lord's manner.  But they needed food, and for that he needed to swallow the anger at being dismissed.  ~Simple skald my ass.  If I had half a chance, I'd show you how not-simple I can be...~  "~We seek food, milord,~" Doug responded neutrally.  "~Our stores have nearly run out, and we would bargain with you.~"

Jubilee landed on Jarrod's shoulder, looking at Doug. She forced her emotions at seeing her fellow students deep down, struggling not to show anything that could clue Jarrod into the fact that she knew these people.

"~They're lying, they're probably spies for the Light Elves.~"

Stepping up to stand next to Doug, Marie-Ange pushed her hood back, and extended the gauntleted arm, so that Memory could land on it.  The gesture was a trifle dramatic - possibly overdone, by her standards, but as ostentatious and showy as this camp was, she thought maybe 'overdone' might be appreciated.

Nudging Doug gently with her foot, she waited until the raven had perched itself comfortably on her shoulder before crossing her arms and scowling silently.

"~Despite what your...pet...has to say on the subject, I assure you we are no such thing, milord,~" Doug said unctuously, sparing a moment's uncharitable thought.  *You're not helping here, Jubes.  If we're gonna get you out, it would help if you weren't trying to make your boss _more_ suspicious of us...*

"~May we enter the camp, milord, so that we might bargain?~"

Jarrod paused for a moment, contemplating the raven on the woman's arm. By the look of the bird, it was Memory, one of Odin's ravens. It would appear that these humans would prove more amusing then he had originally thought. He'd had a bone to pick with Odin for years, ever since a game of dice that the God had won.

Reaching up, he grabbed Jubilee from his shoulder and walked back into his dwelling. If she could not be silent before strangers, she could go back into her cage. "~Enter then, human. I would like to see what you think would be valuable enough to bargain with. Although, if it is your little red head there, perhaps something could be arranged. She seems quite feisty, tell me, is she as fiery in bed as the colour of her hair would suggest?~"

Jubilee struggled against his grip, growling when he mentioned Marie-Ange. A garden rake began to drift upwards from the ground beside the door and Jarrod squeezed her warningly. "~Now, my pet. We've been over this before. I would hate to have to punish you again.~"

Between the crack about Marie-Ange and his callous mistreatment of Jubilee (and just when had she been turned into a pixie? he thought to himself), Doug's opinion of this Dark Elf lord was going rapidly downhill, but he schooled his features so that it didn't show.  "~We have a fair amount of gold, milord, as well as information from places we have visited on our journey.  Unfortunately, we can eat neither gold nor information,~" he joked with a small smile.  *Now how the heck am I supposed to get Jubilee out of here?* he pondered.  As he turned the problem around in his mind, he noticed a forge over to one side of the encampment, and a familiar grey-skinned form laboring with the dwarven smith.  Both appeared to be collared as a mark of servitude.  Snapping his fingers quietly and hoping Jamie would notice, he indicated the forge while keeping his attention on the Dark Elf lord.") *_And_ Angelo...*  He shook his head slightly as they approached the lord's cabin.  This was going to take some doing.

Jubilee struggled as Jarrod neared the cage, several expensive pieces of pottery falling and smashing on the floor . "~Jarrod, please don't lock me in the cage.~"

"~Be silent, you have proven that you cannot be silent in company as a good pet should be. Thus, you shall spend some quiet time in your cage.~"

Taking a quick look at Memory, Doug began to come up with something resembling an idea.  Now, if he could just pull it off...  "~It seems my lady is not the only one cursed with an unruly pet, milord,~" he said.  "~I cannot count the number of times that the raven has brought some foul-smelling thing back to our camp to eat, or defecated on our clothing, or the like.  If you like, I could take that off of your hands...for the proper price, naturally.~"

Jarrod smirked openly. The little Vanir skald was amusing, for certain, but he was so very fond of his pet, and if he played his cards right, maybe he could just get another set of pets.  "~Oh, I am so terribly tempted, Aron Hugaldrson. Perhaps if you and your companions would care to discuss this over.. dinner?"~

Doug chuckled dryly.  "~Any skald worth his lute has heard tales of the Dark Elves'...hospitality, milord.  I would hardly care to be fitted for wings and a collar of my own, if it's all the same.  Might I have your word that my companions and I may eat without fearing any...side-effects?~"  He chose his words carefully, not wanting to offend the Dark Elf.  Stories of the Dark Elves' temper were just as common as that of what happened to unfortunates who ate at a Dark Elf's table without precautions.

Jarrod rolled his eyes and sighed.  "Oh -very- well."  Waving his hand in the air, he continued to smirk.  "Besides, the last thing I need is a herd of tiny squalling baby pixies, at the rate you Aesir breed."

At Doug's very faintly skeptical look, he spread his hands. "I give you my personal word that no harm will come to you or your companions until the setting of the sun tomorrow eve."  After a heartbeat, he bowed dramatically and added.  "There, are you -quite- satisfied?" After all, there were plenty of ways that he could trick the silly mortals out of -something-, even if it was just their gold.

Doug still wasn't prepared to trust Mr. Dark Elf Pantywaist any farther than he could throw him, but he had sworn, so...  "~That's perfectly acceptable, milord,~" he said mildly.  "~Shall I begin the dickering, or shall we be civilized beings and wait until after dinner?~"

Meanwhile, outside the tent, Jamie had indeed noticed Doug's signal; his jaw clenched, then he forced himself to relax and go back to studying the rest of the camp.  Let them take him for Doug's bodyguard; it was true enough, some of the time, and as long as the guy didn't get too clever and talk them all into a situation they couldn't think themselves out of, Jamie had time to work on a plan to get those collars off.

"~Really, my dear boy, you are too much."  Jarrod smiled coldly and gestured.  "My generosity is without bounds, please, enjoy a fine dinner."  It wasn't as if they could appreciate fine cuisine, but it was beyond rude to serve anything less than the best to guests he was about to turn into small toads, or something else small and wet.

Hopping madly on Jarrod shoulder, Jubilee waved her hands. "~Jarrod, this is so way not fair. I've been a good pixie!~"  Okay, so if Doug was going to try this buy-her-thing, maybe she could lower the price. Stomping her foot, she flitted about, buzzing. "I don't wanna go with this guy. He's all.. icky and ungroomed, and the bird might -eat- me!"

Doug grinned.  Jubilee had just inadvertently given him the Dark Elf's name.  It was probably not his true name, because no lord of a Dark Elf clan would be so foolish, but still.  "~So, Milord Jarrod, at the risk of ego, the name Aron Hugaldrsson does come with something of a reputation.  Perhaps I might open the bidding for your pet with a song or tale you have never heard before?~"

Jubilee blinked.  She was so worth more than a -song-. Opening her mouth to protest, she closed it immediately after, catching the hard look from Marie-Ange.

"~You can certainly open the bidding there, but unless you intend to have that pretty red head of yours dance for me, I'm afraid you're going to have to do much better than that. The pixie is a nuisance, but she is quite valuable."~  Jarrod continued to smirk openly. "~And I have not yet received your word, skald, that you will not seek to do harm to my camp.~"

Doug nodded.  "~A fair request, milord.  You have the word of Aron Hugaldrsson that no harm will be done to your camp by myself or my fellows.~"  Internally, Doug grinned.  **Note that the word of Aron Hugaldrsson is not the word of Douglas Ramsey, and we hardly need to do harm to the camp to bust out a few people...**  "~And of course there must be negotiation, milord.  I merely made an opening offer.  Would you care to make a counter?~"

"Oh, I don't know...  "  Jarrod shrugged casually.  "Really, this is so very tiresome, we should discuss it over a meal."

---

Jubilee perched atop Doug's head, wings buzzing madly as she paffed a number of colorful fireworks. The euphoria of being free hadn't worn off, even though it was well after sundown, and well on the way to dawn - though not quite there "Dude, I'm still so crazy miffed that you like, tried to buy me for a song. How rude!"

Doug sighed in a very put-upon fashion and looked fulminatingly at the pixie sitting in his hair.  "Jubes, could you do me a gigantic favor and shut up for a minute while we figure out how to get Angelo and that dwarf out of the camp?  Because, it's starting to occur to me that I technically _own_ you now, and you're really starting to get on my nerves."

Jamie shot a glance over his shoulder from the corner of the tent where he was conferring with Rahne and Hrimhari.  "We're on it, Doug, no worries."  Turning back to the wolves, he said "Okay.  Do you guys think the three of us can slip out the back of the tent, sneak through the camp, and get Angelo and the dwarf free and back here without anybody noticing?"

"I can certainly get there. Rahne should be able to. I know not how you or the other two are at stealth, but if we are careful and keep to the trees as much as possible, it should be well." Hrimhari looked grimly amused. "And if it comes to fighting, dark elven flesh does not have the same effect as their food."

Jamie shrugged out of his chain mail; the padding beneath had started out grey, and sweat and wear had dappled it to something that would blend fairly easily into shadows.  "I'm not up to your standard, I'm sure, but I know not to step on anything dry or trip on my own feet. And Shiro's distraction should take care of the return trip."

"Ye've got better camouflage than I do," Rahne said with a nervous grin, motioning to her red-tinged fur. "Let's be going then."

Getting around to the edge of the camp nearest the smithy was easy. For the way in, the wolves padded quietly on all fours, tails only half raised, and went where no one was looking down. Jamie, being after all a veteran prankster, walked in as if there was nothing at all out of the ordinary about his being where he was. If any of the elves did glimpse their "guest," they didn't seem to think anything of it.

Jamie cut short Angelo's surprised exclamation with an emphatic gesture, and held a quick murmured discussion with the dwarf in his own language, which resulted in a look of amazement and a quick choosing of tools.  A few quick, economical blows later, both collars lay on the ground.  Jamie nodded, satisfied.  "Now all we have to do is wait--"

Light and fire exploded in a thundering crash from the other side of the camp, blazing as bright as noonday, and Jamie grinned tightly. "For that.  Come on.  We're meeting the others with the horses and getting the hell out of Dodge."



Travelling on the road, the girls (Angie and Jubilee) talk. Pixies are not meant for the winter.



Marie-Ange wrapped the reins of her horse around one hand and craned her neck to look behind her. She trusted the horse -just- enough to know it would follow one of the other horses, at least for a few minutes.  "Are you warm enough?" she asked.  Winter seemed to come -far- earlier here than it did in Midgard - then at home - it was no time to start thinking of it as Midgard. It was home, and they were going to find a way back. By her guess, it was late October. It should have been cool and crisp - but here, it was already cold, and she suspected it would not be long before it started snowing.

Jubilee looked up at Marie-Ange from where she was riding in the saddlebag, her wings buzzing softly as she floated some foodstuffs out of the way. She'd managed to push the contents around a bit so that she had a reliable seat, that didn't jostle her too much.

"Kinda, it's a bit hard with these clothes Jarrod put me in but I'll survive. Like, where are we anyhow?"

"When we stop to camp next I'll see if I can manage warmer clothes." Marie-Ange said, concern -very- evident in her voice. "I should still have needle and some thread.."  She scratched at the back of her head - as much in thought, as trying to relieve the itch of not having a chance to bathe in a few days.  "Cutting leather might be a bit difficult. Doug's dagger might work - he's been trimming his beard with it."  She turned her head briefly to glance forward at Doug, riding just ahead of her.

Jubilee grinned as she noticed Marie-Ange's glance. She wasn't able to see who she was looking at from this angle but she could guess. "So, how have you guys been goin', hey? Inquiring minds wish to know. Well, pixie minds, which always seem to be inquiring but, since I'm in pixie form right now, thought it best to go with the flow and all."

"I did not even know he was -here- until a short time before we rescued you and Angelo."  Marie-Ange said. She sighed quietly, and shook her head.  "For a time, I thought I was the only one, and now I worry it is all of us, no matter what Jamie says.."

Jubilee thought about that, her wings buzzing again and she looked back at them in irritation. "Would you stop that?" she said. She looked back at Marie-Ange. "Sorry, still kinda weird havin' wings an all. Don't know if it's all of us, I mean, we'd have heard more rumors, right? Some of us aren't exactly the blendin' in types, afterall."

Marie-Ange shrugged. "Jamie had heard about Miles, but the dwarves thought he was a goblin. The only reason Doug knew about me was because skalds like to exaggerate about how I risked my life to be quite rude to the All-Father."  She shuddered. "To Odin. Blast. Blast, blast, damn. I am getting too used to this place, I sound like one of them."  She looked over her shoulder again and gestured towards Doug, who seemed to be in the process of trying to convince Jamie of -something-, at least by the gestures he was making.  "I have no idea where we are. Doug may know. He traveled a bit, he said."

Jubilee jumped up and clasped the edge of the saddlebags, looking over curiously at the terrain around them, being careful to watch out for Marie-Ange's raven. While she assumed it wouldn't eat her, she couldn't quite be sure and thus caution was needed.

"This place kinda has a way of growin' on ya." she replied.

Dropping back down, she slumped back onto her makeshift chair and realized she was looking directly up Marie-Ange's nose from this angle. 'Ew, total gross-out' she thought, shifting herself slightly.

"Course, I'm dealin' with the whole set of pixie instincts here as well as the cultural stuff. Like, right now, I'm totally dying for a drink, mead preferably and I don't even drink mead. Dude, better then the Dark Elven ones though, although some of that's still kinda hangin' around. Now that's a seriously nasty set of instincts I could do without."

"It grows on the boys more."  Marie-Ange said, after a few moments of silence. Brooding was going to do her no good, she decided. She had Doug, she had friends, they -would- go home. Eventually.  "I am not sure who looks sillier. Jamie or Doug."

Jubilee's expression turned mock serious. "Both, especially since they've been struttin' around here so proud of them. Don't know what it is about boys an hair. And like, don't think I ain't noticed how worried ya been, by the by. Just been waitin' for ya to talk to me about it."

She drew her fur coat around her more tightly, shivering in the cold coming from the opening of the bag. "Been gettin' tired." she admitted finally, after a moment of silence. "Gettin' all kinda messages from my body sayin' I should be sleepin', guess pixies aren't winter types." "I think that might be the culture getting to you, Jubilee." Marie-Ange snickered.  "Doug has spent too many mornings complaining about his to strut. "  She rubbed a slightly red patch on her cheek, smiling wistfully.

"Once we stop, we will figure something out. I have not come all this way to have any of you catch a cough and have to bring you back home with bronchitis."  She shook her head firmly.

Jubilee nodded, leaning her head back against the leather of the saddlebag. "So, what do ya think they're doin' back home? Must be goin' out of their mind about where we are, bein' gone so long an all. God, how the hell am I gonna explain to my Granddad that his youngest Granddaughter is now a pixie?!

"To be honest? I am trying not to think about it. "  Marie-Ange signed and wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders.  "My parents are probably -so- worried."  She sighed mournfully.  "I am just glad I am not the only one. Jamie and Miles kept me sane, and I am not sure I could have kept going if we had not found Doug."

She nodded, floating a nut from the small canvas bag that was sitting over from her and reaching for the small belt knife Jarrod had given her as a joke.

"I hear ya, although it probably would have been better for Angelo if he hadn't found me. Jarrod thought it was real damn funny ta stick him in that cage. Distracted the bastard much as I could, I think it actually amused him more watchin' me tryin' ta protect Angelo, then he would have got by tormentin' him."

Marie-Ange looked over her shoulder again at the odd little tapping noise and snickered.  "Are you eating -again-?" Changing the subject might get her away from thinking about the fact that she had -no- idea how they were going to get home, or what the next step was. "I think your appetite did not shrink when the rest of you did."

Jubilee grinned unashamedly, as she scooped some of the nuts meat out of it's shell with her knife and stuffed it into her mouth. "Toofs a lof of energy ta moof around when yoof thef small."

Unable to contain herself, Marie-Ange crumpled over her horse's neck, shaking with laughter. It wasn't that Jubilee was funny - she was, but not enough to justify the bout of giggles. This entire situation was just so absurd. They were on horseback, wrapped in furs, Jamie and Doug had not -stopped making jokes about Dungeons and Dragons, and on top of the raven that was not alighting on her shoulder, she had a pixie in her saddlebags who was happily snacking on walnuts. It was entirely too silly not to laugh about.