Chapter Thirteen

 

The parties agree to lead separate lives.  They will do their best to not infringe upon the private business of the other party.  Midas (no last name given) is free to pursue outside affairs, so long as he does not bring strangers around Avalon Pendragon (a minor).

Guinevere Pendragon will not pursue outside affairs while married to Midas.  She will be given her own bedroom, with a lock.

Clause 7- Separate Lives and Other Relationships

Gwen let out a panicked cry as four-and-twenty blackbirds shot out of the pies and began dive-bombing the room.

The Scarecrow’s minions!

His feathered assassins were at least three times the size of normal birds and trained to kill.  He enjoyed sending them out after enemies of the state, laughing as his pets returned with the pecked-off noses of their victims.  The grisly hunks of flesh hung like trophies in his office, with little brass nameplates beneath them, announcing whose face they’d been ripped from.

The Pied Piper screamed as a half-dozen razor-sharp beaks stabbed at him, trying to gouge his nose free of his cheeks.  He flailed backwards in his chair.  Blood spurted from his torn flesh.  Miss Muffet crawled under the table, desperately trying to protect her precious spiders.  Little Dog stopped laughing and ran for the door, his tail tucked between his legs.  In the process, he knocked over the table, sending food and silverware and laptop computers in every direction.

Midas pushed Gwen out of her seat, as she sat there frozen, trying to process the scene around her.  She fell to the floor, Midas’s body shielding hers.  “Stay down!”  He ordered.  Huge arms came over her head, forming a protective barrier.

Chaos reigned.

Dower grabbed a fork from the table setting and succeeded in jabbing a blackbird in chest.  Four more swooped in to attack him and he bellowed in rage.  The Walrus waddled around in a helpless circle, ineffectually waving his flippers at the blackbirds as they pierced his blubbery skin.  Hansel and Gretel tried to push each other into the line of fire to protect their own ass.  …Which made no sense, given the fact they were attached, but no one was thinking clearly.

Except Midas.

Gwen switched her attention to her husband’s very appealing, unhandsome face and saw that he was already figuring out a plan.  The man might not be much of a contract negotiator, but heroics were right up his alley.  Midas was lying on top of her, so she had an up-close view of the determination glinting in his eyes.  …Also she couldn’t help but notice that his lips were perfectly shaped and he smelled incredible.

Midas swore with incredible fluidity and quickly settled on a course of action.  She so admired decisiveness.

“Gwen, wait here.”  He jerked off his silver pinstriped jacket and draped it over her head.  “Protect your eyes.  And whatever you do, don’t touch me.”  Then he was moving away from her, stripping off his gloves.

Gwen turned to watch as he got to his feet.  “What are you going to…?”  The answer to her question came before she even finished asking it.

Several of the massive blackbirds launched themselves at Midas.  Instead of ducking, he held out a hand and the first winged assassin flew right into it.  When its feathers touched Midas’s bare fingers it became abundantly clear what his plan was.  His curse acted so fast that Gwen didn’t actually see the blackbird transform.  One second it was zooming towards Midas.  The next, it was falling from the sky, its wings forever frozen in mid-flap.  Two more quickly followed.

Their metal bodies fell beside her with sickening clangs.

Midas glanced down at his hands and then back at Gwen, like he was trying to gauge her reaction.

Did he think she was going to be revolted?  She couldn’t imagine why she would be, considering he was about to save her life.  “I don’t think your curse is a curse today.”  She told him over the screaming of the others.

“It’s always a curse.” He said, but he went back to work.

He might have spent the entire meeting complaining about the Round Table, but his first instinct was still to help them.  Nobility was just a part of him.  Midas reached Dower, his hands swatting the gigantic birds away from the wolf’s bleeding neck.  They met the same fate as their flockmates, their shiny black feathers becoming glinting gold.

“Be-fucking-careful!”  Dower bellowed, ducking out of range, just in case Midas accidently touched him.  “I don’t feel like becoming a gilded lawn ornament today!”

“Nobody would put your ugly ass on their lawn.”  Midas retorted, the idea offending his keen decorating sense.

Three more birds hit the floor.  Every time one got within striking distance, it became an expensive paperweight.  Gwen watched wide-eyed as he flicked another blackbird away from Miss Muffet, instantly turning it to gold.

They tried to attack him, again and again, but Midas was invincible.  He even stopped to unlock the baby elephant’s chains, so the poor thing could fly to safety.  It soared out of the warehouse, flapping his ears fast enough to send some of the birds scattering and squawking.

“Hey, that elephant’s ransom was going to pay for my mom’s Christmas present this year, dickwad!”  Dower objected hotly.

Midas ignored that complaint.

K-k-k-Katy ducked behind Midas’ massive body, trying to hide.  “H-h-h-help!”  She cried, grabbing at his vibrantly-patterned shirt.  “Do s-s-s-something!”

Midas glanced back at her and then grabbed the tablecloth from the mess on the floor.  He tossed it over K-k-k-Katy, so her nose would stay attached to her face.

Gwen frowned in annoyance, suddenly noticing that the other woman wasn’t so terribly hideous for a villain.  It was nice of Midas to help her, but did he have to be so nice to women who weren’t hideous?

Meanwhile, the birds were beginning to regroup.  The largest member of the flock had red eyes and an ear-splitting shriek.  It called to its companions, as if reminding them of their real target.  The rest of the flock stopped trying to maul the Round Table attendees.

Instead, they turned on Guinevere.

In unison they descended on her, with flapping wings and grasping claws.

Gwen gave a shout of alarm as she was surrounded.  The huge birds latched onto her, their talons digging into her clothing and flesh.  They were so strong and all working together.  Gwen felt her body begin to leave the ground as they lifted her upward.

Oh God, they were going to take her back to the Scarecrow!

“Midas!”  Screaming for him was pure instinct.  She frantically grasped hold of the nearest chair back as the birds tried to take off with her.  They were too big for her to stop on her own.  “Help!”

His head snapped around, taking in the situation.  “Goddamn it!”  He leapt across the scattered furniture to reach her.  For a man of his size, he was surprisingly agile.  Under other circumstances, it would have been impressive to see him cross the distance so quickly and with such grace.  It was like watching a predator move through the jungle, sited on its prey.

Gwen tried to tear herself free of the blackbirds’ grip and only succeeded in losing hold of the chair.  Within a heartbeat of time, she was eight feet off the ground.  “No!”  She automatically grabbed for Midas as he appeared below her.

He began to reach for her.  His hand was the size of a catcher’s mitt and nothing had ever looked more reassuring to Gwen.

“Shit!”  Midas suddenly jerked his palm down again, remembering that he wasn’t wearing his gloves.

Gwen’s fingers closed onto thin air as Midas pulled back.  “Midas!”

“Shit!”  He bellowed again, looking tortured.  “Hold on!”  He backed up, his eyes on her, gauging the distance between them. “Stay still, Gwen!”

Stay still?  Was he crazy?

The birds were trying to get her to one of the broken windows.  Gwen fought them with everything she had.  She managed to wrench her hands free and cracked one of the bird’s wings like she was snapping a tree branch.  She felt the bone fracture with a sickening wet crunch.  The bird let out a screech of pain and loosened its grip enough that the whole flock sagged in the air, like a balloon losing altitude.

“I’m going to get you down, but you have to stay still.  If you’re moving, you might accidently touch me!”

She tried to process what Midas was saying, but panic was telling her to do everything possible to stop the birds from leaving the building with her.  If they reached open sky, they would soar too high for her to escape.  They’d return her to the Scarecrow and he’d toss her in the dungeon and this time she’d never get out.  She’d never see Avalon again.  She’d never see Midas or…

“Gwen!”  Midas roared, cutting through her frantic thoughts.  “Fucking listen to me!”

The command was such a departure from his usual calm tone that it got her attention.  She looked down at him, pausing in her efforts to free herself.

“Trust me.”  He said simply, golden eyes locked on hers.  “Equal partners.”

Trust him.

She’d never trusted any man, except her father.  It was why her Right Man list always seemed so unattainable.  Nobody had ever measured up to one of her criteria. …But in that moment she looked at Midas and she knew he wouldn’t let her down.  It was mind-blowing and exhilarating and terrifying, but she trusted him to save her.

Oh God.

Gwen stopped fighting the birds and forced herself to stay still.

Oh God, oh God, oh God…

Midas leapt up on the edge of the sideways table, using it as a springboard.  Gwen had no idea how he kept his balance, but he didn’t so much as wobble as he hurdled towards her and snagged hold of her coat hem.

With his massive weight anchoring her, Gwen was yanked back down towards the ground.  It was like the sudden downhill drop of a rollercoaster.

The birds let out squawks of anger and surprise as Midas tore the whole flock from the air.  Their talons dug into Gwen’s skin hard enough to draw blood, trying to hold on.  They fought to stay airborne, while not releasing their grip.  Gwen was now in a tug-of-war and it was no secret which side she wanted to win.

Unable to stay totally still, she kicked out with her foot, sending one bird careening into the wall.

Midas pulled against the power of the prehistoric-sized blackbirds.  They were strong, but Midas was stronger.  No one was as strong as her husband, certainly not the Scarecrow’s minions.  Once he had her low enough, Midas slammed his free hand into the flock of vicious birds, catching the largest one by the throat.

Golden eyes glowed with rage as he squeezed.  “Let go of my wife.  Now.”

It was hard to say what killed the bird first:  Midas crushing it in his fist or Midas turning it to gold.  Either way the effect was the same.  The bird was gone before Midas even finished issuing the order.  The blackbird transformed into a misshapen golden statue, its beak open in a soundless wail.

With their leader dead, the other birds dropped Gwen in panic, flying for the nearest exits.  Suddenly released, she tumbled downward.  Midas didn’t try to catch her, still afraid of accidently brushing her skin.  But he did move so he was directly beneath her, breaking her fall, while keeping his hands out of range.  That so wasn’t good enough.  Gwen grabbed hold of him.  Her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist.  She clung tight to his massive body.

Safe.

She was safe.

Her eyes closed tight as she embraced him.  “Thank you.”  She whispered.

Just for a second, she thought Midas was going to hug her back.  She felt a shudder of relief pass through his humongous form.  His head dipped down so it rested against hers, his breath rushing out in a long sigh.  His arms moved like he wanted to cradle her against him and just melt into her body.

…Then he thought better of it.

Shit.

“Are you alright?”  He demanded, looking her over for injuries, instead.

“Yeah.”  She nodded her head, too winded to say more.

“Good.”  He stared down at her, all his wild emotions looking for a new outlet and apparently seizing on “anger.”  “Then explain what the hell you were thinking?!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.  You could have been killed!  Do not ever, ever touch me.  No matter what is happening, you need to stay far away from my hands.”

“I wasn’t thinking about your curse.  I just knew you’d save me.”  He’d inadvertently ticked the first box on her Right Man list.  A list which was pretty much unachievable for everyone else on the planet.

It was amazing.  He was amazing.  Midas really could do anything.

His expression grew darker, not nearly so amazed.  “You always need to be thinking about it.”  He held up his fingers, so she could see the damaged skin.  His palms had once bled from manual labor, scars and callouses crisscrossing his skin.  “Look at them, Gwen!  Do these hands look honorable to you?  Are they the hands of a king?  Hands you would want touching your body or caring for your child?”

Actually… yes.

He kept shouting, without waiting for her to answer.  “You saw what I can do with them and you still fell right into my arms.  Just fell.  What if something had gone wrong?”

“It didn’t.  You said to trust you and you were right.”

That just seemed to make him angrier, his accent getting thicker as he raged.  “If you understood anything, you’d see why you’re not supposed to trust me.  I’m not anything like you think I am.  You don’t see me.”

“You’re all I see, Midas.”  From the minute she’d spotted him on the stairs, he’d occupied her every thought.  Long before that, if she was being honest.

“I’m not kind and gentle.”  He pressed on, caught up in his frustration.  “Not naïve.  Not fucking honorable.  You want some perfect knight and that’s not who I am.  I’m cursed and big and coarse and Bad and I don’t have any class!  Everybody sees it!  How do you not see it, too?”

Gwen scoffed at that nonsense.  “Of course you have class.”  In her whole life, she’d never met anyone so gallant.  “You’ve been a gentleman to me from the moment we met.”

“A gentleman?!”  He echoed incredulously.  “Are you fucking kidding me?  You have no idea where I came from.”

“That doesn’t…”

He cut her off.  “Do you know what it takes to crawl out of Celliwig?”

Her eyes widened in horror.  He was from Celliwig?  That place gave hellholes a bad name.  Technically, it was part of Camelot, but no king had dared to visit it in three generations.  The pollution and poverty kept everyone but the destitute and desperate away.  TV news images of grime and death and crying children were as close as any respectable person got to the town.  Anyone who escaped had to do it all on their own.

It explained so much about Midas.

If Arthur hadn’t been born a king, he never could have risen up in the world.  He simply hadn’t been capable of it.  Take the money and power away from Midas, though, and he’d figure out a way to regain everything he’d lost.  He’d fight back, no matter the odds.  Resilience and self-confidence were simply a part of him.  He hadn’t been handed his position the way Arthur and the Scarecrow had.  Everything he’d ever done, he’d accomplished through his own nerve and brains and determination.

“Midas…

He kept going, almost talking to himself now.  “To escape that place, you have to be willing to do the things that no one else is willing to do.”  He shook his head.  “You have to be meaner and stronger and go farther than all of the other assholes willing to do anything.  You have to do more.  You have to cross lines that shouldn’t be crossed and you have to keep going, because, if you don’t, you will die.”  He gave a shudder, like he was seeing it all again.  “There is a trail of blood and dirt behind me that will never wash away.”

“Midas, please don’t…”

“I will never be a gentleman, Gwen.  Never be gallant or Good.  I will never be anything but a tawdry, feral animal, trying to steal what isn’t his.  Everyone in Camelot knows that… except you.”

“No.”  She put her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to meet her eyes.  “You’re not a tawdry feral animal.  Why in the world would you allow Arthur’s words to define you, Midas?  He wasn’t half the man you are.  Why would you ever believe something so ridiculous and wrong?”

Midas shook his head, not even hearing her.  “It would be better for you, if you left me now, before I do something to crush the purity you and Avalon have brought…”

This time, Gwen interrupted him.  It was actually pretty easy to do.

She just kissed him.

Midas drew in a shocked breath, automatically jerking his gigantic, glove-less hands up and out of the way of her skin as she leaned into him.  Under other circumstances, Gwen would’ve laughed.  For once, her “tad bit of brazenness” was landing her right where she wanted to be.  Midas was at her mercy.  He couldn’t exactly push her away, even if he wanted to.  He was helpless.

…And it was amazing.

Gwen’s mouth parted against his, her arms winding around his neck, again.  Yesyesyesyes.  The magnetic pull of the man dragged her under.  Logic and reason were lost.  Vaguely, she recalled being an idiot teenager, resenting the fact that she had to settle for Arthur and his soulless pecks instead of the sweeping romance of real passion.  Of course, what she knew about “real passion” she saw on movie screens, but still this was how she’d pictured kissing the Right Man would feel.  Alive and free and out of control.

Midas gave a low groan and she could feel his arousal pressed against her.  Huge and hot and already desperately throbbing to be inside of her.  The wildness of her husband spurred her own desire even higher.  Her body rocked against his.  Accepting him.

“Gwen.”  He got out, kissing her back like he just couldn’t help himself.  Like he was drowning and she was all that kept his head above water.  “Oh fuck.”  The defeated curse was music to her ears.  He linked his hands behind his back to keep from touching her, letting her do whatever she wanted to him.

Victory had never been so sweet.

Midas’ mouth slanted over hers, taking everything she had and giving her more.  He might be inscrutably secretive about most things, but there was no doubt he wanted her naked.  She’d known she was right about that!  Without even thinking, she began yanking his garish tie off and he didn’t utter a word of protest.

“Midas,” she got out, “please.  I need…”  She couldn’t focus long enough to finish that request.  “Please, Midas.”

“Anything.”  His eyes met hers for a beat, glowing like ancient coins.  “Anything you want.  It’s yours.”

Not want.  Need.  She desperately needed him.  Just him.  She needed to do all kinds of amazing things with his amazing body.  It was the only way she’d ever be satisfied.  Her lips found his again, her entire system on fire.  She was so tight and overheated that she actually whimpered on the edge of pain.  The primitive growl Midas gave in response did spectacular things to her insides.  This man was hers.  She was going to have him and then everything would be perfect.  He’d said she could have anything she wanted and she wanted him, naked and begging.  Once she got the rest of his clothes off, she could…

“What the hell was that about?”  Dower’s angry voice boomed from right beside them, cutting through Gwen’s passionate haze.  “Hey, would you two cut that out and pay attention?”

Huh…?

She blinked, trying to reorient herself to the world outside of her own desire.  Oh shit, it had happened again!  She’d totally forgotten that they weren’t alone.  Kissing Midas was like downing a memory potion.  All her former thoughts got washed clean in the tidal wave of desire.

Gwen scrambled backward, her eyes on his.  This time she didn’t apologize for kissing him, because she wasn’t at all sorry.  Besides that would have taken a lot more oxygen than she had to spare.  She just stared up at him, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

Midas made a snarling sound of frustration when she pulled away, his head snapping over to glower at Dower.  “You stupid fucking son of a bitch.”  That golden gaze glinted like death.  For a split second, Gwen saw why so many people feared her husband.  He looked fully capable of wolf-icide.  “That is twice you’ve done this to me.”

Dower took a wary step back, but he still didn’t shut up.  “When you two start kissing, you forget everything else.”  He snapped, which --admittedly-- was kind of a little bit true.  “We got real shit to talk about here.  Why did a goddamn army of birds just attack us, huh?  It must be something you did.”

Midas moved forward, like he was already imagining how much a twenty-four karet Dower statue would be worth.

Gwen quickly jumped between them before Midas did something he’d regret.  “The blackbirds work for the Scarecrow.”  She told Dower, holding up a palm so Midas didn’t just stalk around her and kill the moron.  “He sent them after us.”

“Hell.”  The Walrus grumbled dabbing at his various bloody wounds.  “Seems like everyone can get worthwhile henchmen but me.”