Chapter Nine

 

Each day, the parties will meet to frankly discuss new/developing issues that could impact their partnership.

Honesty is expected.

Clause 10- Communication Between Partners

 

Gwen couldn’t quite stifle her gasp.  Whatever she’d expected to discover with her eavesdropping, this wasn’t it.  The Scarecrow was calling Midas?  Why?  It took everything in her to stay out of sight and not storm back into the room.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Midas?”  The Scarecrow demanded.  “You think you can fuck with me and get away with it, you illiterate fucking hoodlum?!”

Gwen’s eyebrows shot up at his wrathful tone and florid cursing.  Holy cow!  His language was even worse than Midas’.  Usually, the Scarecrow tried to project an image of scholarly sophistication.  Typically, that meant a lot more syllables and a lot fewer f-bombs.  Maybe he only bothered to polish up his erudite manners and flawless taste for people he wanted to impress.  Gwen’s new husband clearly didn’t make the list.

Just as clearly, Midas didn’t give a damn.

“I think I’m becoming the supreme ruler of Camelot.”  Midas said easily.  “Granted, I don’t have a fancy degree, like you, but I can read.  And it turns out our constitution is quite egalitarian, when it comes to women’s rights.  Queens continue to hold power, even when their spouse died.  It’s very progressive.”

“That’s only one interpretation…”

Midas cut him off.  “It’s the only interpretation.  It’s all spelled out in amendment six, article nine, paragraph seven: ‘Rules for Succession in Event of Royal Death” enacted by the Second Congress of Wizards.”

Gwen nearly smiled at how quickly he rattled it off.  It was like the man could remember everything he read with photographic detail.

“So, don’t try to bullshit me.”  Midas went on with total confidence.  “Guinevere’s still the queen.  I’m her husband, now.  Ergo…”  He shrugged.  “I’m your new king.  Couldn’t be plainer, under our glorious governmental system.”

“The fuck you are!”  From his enraged shriek it seemed a good guess that the Scarecrow wasn’t about to start bowing anytime soon.  It was shrill enough to nearly shatter Midas’ collection of priceless, ageless, incredibly gaudy magic mirrors.  “That bitch might think she’s won, but as long as she’s intent on passing that illegitimate brat off as Arthur’s heir, the Good folks of the kingdom will never support her.  Not even you and your kneecapping henchmen can change that.”

Gwen’s eyes narrowed at the back of the laptop, hating the man.

“I find Avalon to be quite delightful.”  As usual, Midas’ voice stayed utterly calm.  “Given time, I think the rest of Camelot will come to agree.  You’d be surprised at how persuasive I can be when I put my mind to it.”

“Why are you doing this?”  The Scarecrow sounded furious and frustrated and not at all like a smooth-talking politician.  He was used to being three steps ahead of everyone else, analyzing patterns and calculating odds.  Like Gwen, he must’ve suspected Midas was playing some bigger game and, also like her, he couldn’t figure out what it might be.  “You don’t even want Camelot, Midas.  Being king has never been your endgame.”

“Career goals change.”

“You don’t have a career.  You just have victims.”

“And subjects.”  Midas’ golden eyes gleamed like ancient coins.  “It’s good to be king.”

“Is it Guinevere?”  The Scarecrow demanded, like he’d just figured it all out.  “You know she killed Arthur, right?  She’s probably planning the same fate for you, you fool.  She wants your money.”

Gwen scowled.

“I doubt that.  She’s drafting me a will, which leaves my fortune to my bodyguard, Trystan Airbourne.  She was very insistent on it.  There was a slideshow.”  Midas still sounded amused by that perfectly logical presentation.  At least he sat still to listen to her estate planning lecture, though.  Trystan had rolled his eyes and walked out.  “Personally, I’m not worried about leaving this mortal coil.”  Midas continued nonchalantly.  “I’m pretty hard to kill.  Ask anyone.”

“So was Arthur, but he’s still dead.”  The Scarecrow retorted.  “I mean, do you really believe his fall was an accident?”

Midas gave an unconcerned shrug.  “Perhaps he jumped.”

“Perhaps you’re thinking with your dick.”  The Scarecrow sneered.  “I’m not surprised.  You’ve never been so close to an actual lady before, have you?  All that shiny, blonde class must be hypnotizing to a mud-dweller like you.  Of course you’d develop a hard-on for some expensive pussy.”

“You really don’t want to be insulting Guinevere.”  Midas warned, even though most of that had been insults directed towards him.  “We’re having such a pleasant conversation, but you’re about to get on my Bad side.”

The Scarecrow snorted, as if Midas’ stupidity was all but confirmed.  “Oh, don’t even bother trying to play the white knight.  It doesn’t suit Bad folk.  You aren’t some defender of the innocent, Midas.  You’re just a big, ugly primate who got suckered in by a woman way out of your league.  She is using you!  Using you to win her war!  And you’re letting her do it!”

Gwen winced a bit, because there was some truth mixed in with the Scarecrow’s lies and vile words.  She had strong-armed Midas into this fight.  He’d just been too much of a gentleman to stop her.  Now she was getting him into a war with the most horrible monster in Camelot. 

Maybe she should rush in there and save him.

“Guinevere wasn’t just married to King Arthur, she was also fucking Galahad, for fuck’s sake.” The Scarecrow sounded incredulous, angry, and cruelly amused.  “Have you seen Galahad?  Read his resume?  Watched his fucking adventures on his fucking TV show?  He’s perfect!  I’m fucking straight and I would fuck Galahad.  That’s how fucking perfect he is.”

Midas looked irritated for the first time.  “Galahad had his own television show?”

“Two of them.”  The Scarecrow informed him nastily.  “That’s the kind of men Gwen’s used to having between her legs.  Kings and heroes.  If she’s letting you touch her, it’s only because you’re serving a purpose.  You’re usually smarter than this, Midas.”

“People keep telling me that.”

“You’re a means to an end for her.  You have to see it.  A big, dirty, expendable animal she can keep on a leash.  Once you aren’t useful anymore, Gwen will be gone.  You don’t belong with her and you know it.”

Something flickered behind Midas’ eyes.  Something like pain or resignation or loneliness.  If she hadn’t been watching him closely, Gwen would have missed it.

Then, Midas arched a brow, as if the moment had never happened, at all.  “Maybe I’m not her ideal husband.”  He agreed.  “But, didn’t she turn down your proposal entirely?”

The Scarecrow didn’t appreciate that reminder.  “At least I’m from her class and not some no-necked orangutan!”  He snapped.  “Look, you might have the woman for now, but I’ll never let you have this kingdom.  Whatever your goal is here, you don’t have the men or brains to take Camelot by force, so we’re at a standstill unless we reach a compromise.”

“A compromise?”

“A deal.”  The Scarecrow translated, as if Midas was having trouble understanding long words.  He took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control. “Guinevere for Camelot.”

“I get the woman, you get the kingdom?”

“Precisely!”  His vocabulary got fancier, again.  “You and I are professional men, Kingpin.  We can strike a mutually beneficial accord.  Simply make Guinevere surrender the throne and her father’s wand. In exchange, I’ll give you the Queen of Camelot and you can do with her as you will.  She’s what you truly covet, correct?”

“Except I already have the Queen of Camelot.”  Midas remarked impassively.  “You can’t give me what I already possess.  Also --and I would have thought you’d notice this yourself, because the woman isn’t all that subtle-- Gwen hates you.  She will never willingly hand you the keys to her castle.”  He tilted his head, like he was trying to recall the details.  “Something about you locking her in a dungeon and threatening her child and stealing her throne…?”

The Scarecrow’s temper sparked again, his vocabulary disintegrating once more.  “You’re a fucking hoodlum and she’s a goddamn soccer mom!  Stop pretending this is complicated.  Just do whatever it fucking takes!”

Midas very slowly blinked.  “And Avalon?”  He asked.  “What do you propose we do with the princess?”

The Scarecrow’s veneer of civility slipped back into place.  “The child’s dangerous.  You’ve probably witnessed it already.”  He heaved a regretful sigh, as if he’d done everything he possibly could to be reasonable.  “I’ve tried to rationalize with the tyke,” his voice got harder, “but she’s as stupid and stubborn as her mother.  If you take care of that brat, we’ll call it even.”

Gwen’s knees nearly gave out.  That son of a bitch wanted her baby dead.  What was she going to do?  She could barely breathe as panic set it.  Oh God…

The Scarecrow continued pressing in his most persuasive tone.  “You and I have never been at odds before, Midas.  No need to start now.  Once I have total control of Camelot, you’ll be one of the Baddies I spare.  Someone will have to supply the kingdom with its vices, after all.  I’ll give you free reign to run your business as you see fit. It’s a fair deal for us both.”

Midas sat forward in his chair.  “It’s a compelling offer.”  He admitted.

Gwen shot him an appalled look, wanting to scream.

“Of course, there is one small problem with the arrangement.”  Midas went on, before she could charge into the room.  “I already have a competing deal in place with Guinevere.  We have a Contract and everything.  I’ve read the whole thing.  Even the footnotes. …And there were a lot of footnotes.  It’s all very official looking.”

Gwen hesitated, her hand on the doorknob.

“Whatever she’s offering, I can top it.”  The Scarecrow promised him smugly.

“No.”  Midas said with total assurance.  “You can’t top Guinevere’s deal.  There isn’t another person in the world who can offer me what she does.”

Relief flooded through Gwen, leaving her dizzy.

“Come on, now…”  The Scarecrow drawled out with phony camaraderie.  “Siding with me is win-win!  You can expand your business with the blessing of the crown and keep the woman.  What could be simpler?”

Midas’ eyes glinted like he knew a secret.  “Oh, I’ve never been one to do things the simple way.  What would be the fun in that?”

Gwen’s heartbeat sped up, seeing what the Scarecrow didn’t.  He believed he had the upper-hand simply because Midas hadn’t been born in a palace or educated in some high-priced academy.

That was a mistake.  A big one.

The Scarecrow’s IQ tests might be the stuff of legend, but he had no idea who his opponent really was.  Unless you were watching Midas closely --If you didn’t spot the ruthless intelligence, because you were blinded by his unpolished accent and street-brawler profile and gentle nature-- it was so easy to underestimate him.  To miss the brilliant mind lurking beneath the tacky suit.

The Kingpin might suck at contract negotiations, but he was in complete control of this meeting.

The Scarecrow kept chuckling, not noticing that he was about to fail in a spectacular fashion.  “Now, don’t tell me it wouldn’t be a pleasant experience to have Guinevere naked and chained to your bed.  Be able to play out whatever sick, villainous fantasies your kind can dream up.  Arthur’s wife helpless in your evil clutches.”

“But she isn’t Arthur’s wife.” Midas corrected as if the Scarecrow was a drooling moron.  That alone was worth the price of admission. “Guinevere is my wife.”

The air caught in Gwen’s chest as she studied Midas’ unhandsome face.  Whatever happened next would change her whole life.  There wasn’t a doubt in her mind.

“Yes, but she…”

Midas just kept talking like the Scarecrow’s words weren’t even worth listening to.  “Mine.  You’re stealing from… and insulting… and threatening… my wife.”

“If you would just…”

Midas interrupted him again, his voice hard.  “So, the only deal I will ever make with you is the one where I take everything and you fucking hide, you piece of shit.  If I was you, I’d accept that deal, too.  Because if you think I’m an animal now…  You just try getting between me and what’s mine.”

“So you said some empty vows to that woman!  What does that have to do with business…?”

Midas cut off the Scarecrow’s desperate jabbering, again.  “When I give my word, it’s never empty.  Especially not when I give it to Gwen.  My wife wants Camelot back, so I’m going to get it for her.  You’re just the dead man I have to go through, before I win the war.”

Gwen gazed at Midas, the whole world realigning itself.  It had always been Gwen and Avalon on their side of the battle, with everyone else on the other.  But apparently not anymore.  Now Midas was with them.

“You stupid fucking fuck!”  The Scarecrow completely lost his jocular façade, screaming in wrath and humiliation.  “Gwen is my ticket to the throne and she will give it to me. I don’t care what it takes.  If you stand with that bitch, I will unleash hell on you.”

Midas smirked and it was a thing of beauty.  “Well, you could send more King’s Men after me, I suppose.  …Have you heard back from the last bunch, yet?”

Gwen blinked.

The Scarecrow made a sound of incoherent fury.  Not over his missing knights, but because he’d lost the negotiation and they both knew it.  He’d never lost anything before, but Midas had just crushed him without even raising his voice.

It was one of the greatest moments of Gwen’s life.

“You’re nothing but a sewer rat, trying to claw his way up in the world!”  The Scarecrow screeched.  “You come from nothing!  Your family was nothing!  You are nothing!  There’s no way you can beat me!  You have no idea the kind of power I have on my side!  You don’t know what I can unleash on you!”

“I know that I’m keeping my bride, right here in my evil clutches.  And Avalon.  And their kingdom.”  Midas retorted calmly.  “And I know I’m going to kill you, very soon.  That’s a fucking promise.”  He arched a brow.  “And, like I said before, I’m famous for keeping my word.”  He slammed the computer lid closed, cutting off the Scarecrow’s bellow of protest.  “What an idiot.”

In that second, Kingpin Midas --notorious gangster, terrible dresser, and overall enigma-- became the greatest hero in the kingdom.  Braver than any knight in shining armor.  Stronger than any handsome prince. More honorable than any righteous king.  The absolute epitome of manhood and chivalry.  Midas had just put himself between Gwen and the Scarecrow.  Between Avalon and the Scarecrow, which was so much more important.

It was amazing.

Gwen pushed the door open, not bothering to hide the fact she’d been listening to every word of the exchange, and stared at him in wonder.

Surprised, Midas glanced up at her and arched a brow.  “Eavesdropping?  Really?”  He rolled his eyes.  “I have no idea why I didn’t expect that.”  He gestured for her to resume her seat.  “Well, no matter.  I’m just sorry you had to hear him threaten you and Avalon.  I knew that was coming and I’d hoped to spare you.”

Gwen sat back down and took a deep breath.  “Thank you.”  She said simply.

Midas gave an awkward shrug.  He always looked uncomfortable with her gratitude, like he didn’t think he deserved it.  “It was easy enough to deny the man.  The Scarecrow is remarkably unlikable.”

“It would’ve been a lot easier to just do what he wanted.”

“In addition to lacking a sense of right and wrong, my prison psychiatrist informs me that I’m pathologically incapable of doing what Good folk want.”  Midas explained, like that nonsense was somehow true.  “I’m also prone to disproportionally violent responses when people cross me.  I’m selfish, greedy, narcissistic, and --in short-- irredeemably Bad.”

“I don’t believe any of that.”

“You should.  It’s a matter of public record.”

Gwen waved all that bullshit aside.  “What you are… is an amazingly gallant man.”  She told him and it was true.

What Midas had was so much rarer than blueblood.  So much more important.  You could train legions of soldiers to fight monsters, but true nobility had to be born into someone’s heart and soul.  Had to be part of their very bones.  There was no other way to get it.

Golden eyes flicked back to her face.  “I’m not gallant.”  His voice was serious and sad.  “You have no idea how much I’d pay to fix that.  How much I would love to be a Good man for you, Gwen.  But… I’m not.”

“Good and Bad are just labels.  They have nothing to do with who people are inside.  Only our actions define us.”

Midas shook his head, dismissing the very idea.  “Arthur once called me a tawdry, feral animal.”  He shrugged.  “He was probably right.  But, I don’t rape women or hurt little girls.  That’s what I need you to understand. Nothing could ever make me harm you.”

“I know.  I’m probably the only person in the world who’s not frightened of you, at all.  Nothing the Scarecrow said changed that.  Nothing anyone said could ever change that.”

Midas hesitated.  “I killed the King’s Men.”  He admitted quietly.  Of course this man would have trouble with lies of omission.  It was just in his nature to always be honest.  “If you heard that part of the conversation, it’s true.”

“Were they going to kill you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you didn’t have a choice.”

His brows compressed, as if her confidence in him was confusing.

“Why would you even be worried about this, Midas?  Do you think I’d bring my daughter into your house if I thought you were a tawdry, feral animal? I know you’ll protect us.  I knew before I came.”

What would Arthur have done in Midas’ place?  Would he have given aid to a desperate woman and her baby?  Antagonized a powerful man?  Aligned himself with the underdogs?  No way in hell. So who was the real Bad guy in the story?

Gwen couldn’t exactly tell what was happening inside Midas’ complicated head, but she saw into his heart.  This man was lonely and misunderstood and compassionate and kind.  He fought for the innocent and let himself be strong-armed by someone half his size, just because he knew she was right.  No one else in all of Camelot had been willing to help Gwen.  None of the knights.  None of the wizards.  None of the Good folk.

Just the kingdom’s greatest criminal.

This man wasn’t a villain.

He was a hero.

Midas’ gaze stayed steady, still trying to convince her of what she was already so sure of.  “I’ll keep you and Avalon safe, no matter what.  You have my word.”

“I know.”  Just like she knew that everything she’d secretly hoped before she met him was true.  All of it.  “Can I tell you something and you not ask me any questions about it?”

“Yes.”  The answer was immediate.

“Promise?”

“You can tell me anything.”

Gwen nervously brushed back her hair.  “If Galahad came back, right now, and offered to take care of me and Avi,” she glanced at Midas and then quickly away, “I would still want to stay right here.”

Midas blinked in astonishment.  “With me?”

“Technically, that’s a question, but yes.  With you.”  Her eyes flicked to his again, unable to stop herself.  “I like being here with you, Midas.   Not just because I feel safest when you’re around, but because…”  She shrugged.  “I like you.  Very much.”

Those incredible eyes glowed hotter than molten gold.

Gwen blushed, but she didn’t look away, again.  “What the Scarecrow said is not true.  When I kiss you, it’s just because I want to kiss you.  And I know you’re so honorable that you’d help me even if I didn’t kiss you, so pretending to be attracted to you would be pointless, anyway.  Also, I’m terrible at lying, so you’d probably guess, if I was faking.  I know I’d make a mess of it.  I really am a little bit brash around the edges.  So,” she finished nervously, “I just want you to know that I find you incredibly appealing.”

Midas took a deep breath, like he’d forgotten to breathe while she was talking.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.  Um…”  He cleared his throat.  “Which part am I not supposed to ask questions about?”

Gwen expelled a self-conscious breath.  “All of it.”

“Alright.”  He studied her for a long moment.  “Then, can I tell you something and you won’t ask questions about it?”

“Sure.”  She nodded, still a little winded from rushing through that whole rambling speech.  “That’s fair.”

Midas stared into her eyes, the lines of his face harsh and somehow beautiful.  “If Galahad ever comes back… I will fight with everything I have to convince you and Avalon to stay here with me.”  It was a promise.  “I like you, Gwen.  Very much.  And I find you incredibly appealing.”

She smiled.  “Really?  You’re getting used to having me around?  Even with the brashness?”

“That’s technically several questions, but yes.  Brashness and all.  My life would be very, very dull without it.”  He paused.  “He really had two television shows?”

“And a mini-series of his life.  Gal starred in it.  It won --like-- fifty awards.  He gave all the profits to charity.”

“Fucking hell…”  Midas sighed in disgust.  “Anyway, I don’t suppose any of this has changed your mind about waging total war, has it?”  He asked, clearly hoping to change the subject.

“Nope.”  Gwen rallied herself, trying to focus.  “I still don’t want to murder thousands of people.”

“I knew you would say that.”

Which is why he’d asked.  Because he knew it was wrong and that she’d stop him.  He had such a gentle soul.  “You’d rather me not tell you what I really think?”  She challenged, already sure of the answer.

“No.”  He said quietly.  “I’d always prefer the truth, even when it’s not what I want to hear.”

“Me, too.”  She took a deep breath of her own.  “Equal partners, Midas.”

That was more than she’d ever offered another soul, because she’d never met anybody who could reciprocate before.  Gwen liked to strike bargains, but it was usually difficult to find someone who could uphold their end.  With Midas, though, nothing ever went quite as it normally did.

Gwen held out her palm to him.  “Deal?”

He glanced at it, his eyes lingering on her wedding band from Arthur.  “It’s not safe for us to touch, even with the gloves.  My curse…”

“Deal?”  She repeated, cutting him off.

He studied her face, as if measuring her resolve.  “You know, someone once told me about this moment.”  He said abruptly.

“Huh?”  Gwen’s eyebrows compressed.  “Who?”

“Vivien.  The same woman who cursed me.”

“Probably not a great person to listen to, then.”

“She knew the future.”

Gwen’s heart skipped a beat.  “Someone predicted you and I would be standing here?”  It had to be an enchantress.  Crap.  What else had she seen?

“She told me I’d only make two bargains in my whole life that really mattered.”  Midas’ glowing eyes fixed on hers, burning with something immeasurable and warm.  “This is one of them.”

Gwen’s throat went dry under his intent stare, forgetting to be worried about the enchantress.  “Are you sure?”  She whispered.

“Yes.”  He said simply and took hold of her hand.  “We have a deal.  Equal partners.”  Huge, leather-clad fingers enveloped hers.  For a second, it seemed like his thumb brushed her skin in a gentle caress.

Gwen felt her insides liquefy.

“And we’ll win your war the hard way, if you want.”  He assured her, releasing her hand and settling back in his chair.  “The Scarecrow will still die, so it’s an acceptable choice.  Just far less interesting.”

Gwen exhaled in relief.  “Thank you.”  She started smiling again, thrilled with their progress.  “Want to help me look for the wand again today?”

“No.  We’re busy all afternoon.”

“Busy?”  Gwen echoed in disappointment, her mood nosediving.  Not that she was expecting him to take her on a honeymoon cruise to Neverland or anything, but he could at least wait a whole weekend before…

Shit.

Gwen sighed at the bizarre sensation of hurt filling her.  She was being an idiot.  No matter what she was suddenly feeling, they were allowed to live separate lives.  It was outlined in Clause 7.

“Of course.”  She said, trying to cover her dismay.  Her imagination went wild with all the horrible places he had to rush off to.  Maybe he had some beautiful girlfriend he still needed to inform about his fake marriage and that would take a while.  The crying alone would no doubt be time consuming. “I’m sure you must need to explain a few things to…”

“I never explain.”

Guinevere’s eyes narrowed at that blasé interruption.  It was both true and annoying.  “Well, I’m sure there are a few ladies who will be wanting some kind of…”  She stopped short, finally processing his words.  “Wait, did you say we’re busy today?  As in you and me?”

“Obviously.  Haven’t we been discussing the necessity of working together?”  He straightened his aggressively flashy suit, not bothering to wait for an answer.  “Since you want to do this the hard way, this year’s Round Table is a good place to start.  If you’re going to eavesdrop, you might as well just participate.  Saves us both time and effort.”

“The… Round Table?”  She repeated, not sure she’d actually heard what she’d heard.

“Yes.”

Holy shit, she had heard it.  Excitement warred with trepidation.  “That annual conference thingy here all the worst villains in the world gather together in one spot?”

“Some of the worst villains.”

“And these horrible people make horrible deals and have horrible arguments and make lists of people to horribly kill?”

“Mostly it’s just whining and lies and sometimes a couple deaths.”

“And you want us to just… go to this meeting from hell?”

“I never want to go to a meeting, but you’re not giving me much of a choice.  Not if you wish to reclaim Camelot with minimal bloodshed.  Don’t worry.  Some of them were witnesses at our wedding.”

“And they were… horrible.”

“I know.”  He arched a brow at her appalled expression.  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather me just kill everyone?”