Chapter Fourteen

 

In case of the death of Guinevere Pendragon, Sir Galahad is granted guardianship of Avalon Pendragon (a minor) and full control of her estates.  If he cannot be found, Midas (no last name given) will assume responsibility.

He will try not to screw it up.

Clause 17- Instance of Guinevere Pendragons’ Death

 

“So, the actual queen of an actual kingdom married actual you?”  Marrok Wolf’s voice was amused.  “Damn.  The poor girl must be massively desperate, huh?”

Midas’s fingers tightened on the phone with enough strength to crack its plastic casing.  “Let me talk to your wife.”  He ordered, refusing to rise to the bait.  He’d barely restrained himself from killing Dower earlier and he wasn’t sure he could be so controlled if another one of their asshole kind pissed him off today.

Wolves were so damn annoying.

After the blackbirds’ attack, the other Round Table attendees had run back to their homes to hide.  By and large, villains always panicked when Good folk struck back at them.  They were used to losing, so they were usually quick to admit defeat.  Midas wasn’t so sure they would help to rally the Bad folk to Guinevere’s cause, like she wanted.  Oh, they’d promised to spread the word to their followers about causing chaos, but who knew if they really would.

It didn’t matter.  Midas would win the war by himself, if he had to.  Regardless of Gwen’s misconceptions about his gentle nature, when it came to bloodshed and plotting, no one could beat Midas.

For the “smartest man in the kingdom,” the Scarecrow was clearly an idiot.  That son of a bitch had attacked Guinevere, forcing Midas to show her his curse up close and in person.  That had been the last thing he’d ever wanted to do.  So now Midas would take his frustration out on every inch of the Scarecrow’s bird-filled body.

And he was going to hire a shitload of lunatic killers to help him.

“Letty’s busy crying, because you could be in charge of Camelot.”  Marrok reported.  “You know her grandfather was born there, right?  This is a huge blow to the whole family.”

“Give me that.”  Marrok’s wife, Scarlett, grabbed the receiver away from him.  She sure didn’t sound like she was weeping.  Midas could hear the exasperation in her tone.  “Why do I even let you out in public?”

“Actually, Red, I’d be a lot happier if we could just stay all alone in private.”  Marrok teased and there was no mistaking Letty’s answering snicker of laughter.

Midas looked up at the very expensive fresco on the ceiling of his office, praying for patience.

Letty’s voice finally came on the line, breathless from what was undoubtedly Marrok’s kiss.  “Midas?”

“Hello, Scarlett.  It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure the last time I saw you, you were making macaroni necklaces in prison.  Craft time was the pits, wasn’t it?”

Midas was in no mood to reminisce about their time in the WUB Club.  “I need an army.”  He told her, cutting to the chase.

“Uh-huh…”  She drawled out with the humoring cadence of a customer service rep.  “And who are we murdering today?”

“The Scarecrow.  He’s seized control of Guinevere’s kingdom and I’ve promised to stop him.”

“Because Guinevere Pendragon is your…. wife.”  Scarlett sounded like she was still trying to wrap her head around that news.  Who could blame her?  Midas could barely believe it himself.

“Yes, she’s my wife.”  Possessive satisfaction filled him at the words.

“Why is she your wife?”  Scarlett persisted.  “I mean why are you doing this?  It can’t be about wanting Arthur’s bland, tasteful palace.  Because, that place is totally not your style, Midas.  I’ve seen it and it’s –like-- all bland and tasteful and beige.”

Midas suppressed a shudder of revulsion.  “Trust me, that asshole’s ugly castle is hardly my dream home.  I can’t fucking stand beige.”  It reminded him of his parents’ home and Celliwig was the very last place in the world he ever wanted to think about.

“So what the hell are you doing, then?”  Scarlett repeated.  “I’ve never known you to care much about politics, so is there another reason you’re picking a war with a megalomaniac?”

“Gwen asked me to.”

Letty made a “huh” sound.  “That’s very altruistic of you.”  She drawled.

“I’ve recently been told I’m extremely kind.”  Midas didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed.  “Are my motives really vital to our discussion?”

“No, but we’re discussing your True Love, I’m guessing.”  Letty surmised in a knowing voice.  “So you can’t blame me for being a little curious.”

Midas hesitated and that was all the response she needed.  Scarlett had always been perceptive.

“Well, alright then.”  She said in a far cheerier tone.  “Now, it’s all making sense.  Congrats!  I can see why you would want to get Camelot back for her.  Sure to be a lovely wedding gift.”

Midas’ gloved fingers drummed on the desktop.  “Can you help or not?  I’m willing to pay a lot of money for anyone willing to fight for me.”

“The Enchanted Forest isn’t just a bunch of disposable mercenaries, Midas.  I’m not going to risk my people, so you can impress your new bride and…”

“The Scarecrow has a formula that will turn Bad folk into mindless zombies.”  Midas interrupted.

Scarlett gave a gasp.  “What?”

“He’s using Dark Science --which is just as terrible as it sounds-- to brainwash Bad folk.  He’s going to sell this idea as making us ‘Good,’ but it’s really just erasing who we are.  Forcing us to be pliable slaves.”

“He can’t do that!  It’s impossible!”

“According to Guinevere, it’s real fucking possible.”  Midas didn’t see the point in sugarcoating it.  “If we don’t fight him now, he’ll come after all of us.  He’ll start with Camelot and then move onto other kingdoms.  My wife is the only thing stopping him.”

Scarlett was silent for a long moment.  “What do you want from me?”

“I told you, I need an army to keep the asshole busy, while Gwen works to stop the formula.  Surely some of your followers would like a steady job slaughtering people and causing disorder.  It’s what they do for fun, anyway.”

Letty took a deep breath.  “I suppose I can ask around the Enchanted Forest.  See if anyone is interested in hiring onto your little insurrection.  …If you were to do something for me.”

“Aside from stopping a madman, you mean?”

“You could be lying about that.”

“I could be, but I’m not.”  It wasn’t worth arguing over, though.  “How much gold do you want for the men?”

“I don’t want gold, idiot.  I want Ez.”

What the hell was she talking about?  “Esmeralda?”

“Yes.  She’s still missing.  I want her back.”

“Well, I certainly don’t have the witch.”  Midas hadn’t seen Esmeralda since the prison break.  The memory was quite vivid.  He’d been frantically wondering how to escape the poisoned gas filling the WUB Club, while she strolled by nonchalantly fiddling with her fingernails.  Even in an asylum filled with crazy people, it was easy to recall someone so crazy.

“I know you don’t have her.”  Scarlett retorted.  “But somebody does.  No one has seen Ez in months.”  Clearly, this was worrisome to Letty.  God only knew why.  Most people would’ve been happy not to have a wicked witch hanging around.

Midas rubbed his forehead and wondered why everyone he knew was so irritating.  “Do you have any evidence that she’s been abducted or that she’s in some kind of trouble?”  He asked, very much doubting it.

“Not exactly, but…”

“Well, why not just wait for her to contact you, then?  Esmeralda is an adult.”  Technically, anyway.  Her maturity-level was another story.  “For all you know, she could have just moved and not bothered to send you a forwarding address.”

Scarlett ignored that.  “You have connections and money in every land.  Can you find her?  If you can, we have a deal.”

Midas would rather eat mud than get involved in this mess.  Still, Scarlett was a master at getting smart people to do dumb things.  “Why is this witch so important to you?”

“I love Ez.  Tuesday share circle sticks together.  We want her found and returned to us.

By “we” Letty meant her sister Drusilla, Marrok, Prince Avenant of the Northlands, that annoying blue bridge ogre Benji, and herself.  The Tuesday share circle really did stick together.  The six of them had an unbreakable bond.  Midas had the brief thought that it must be nice to have a family like that.

Somewhere to belong.

The Monday share circle he’d shared with Dower hadn’t been nearly so chummy or intelligent.  Midas blamed Arthur.  If Camelot was a more important kingdom, Midas’ crimes would’ve gotten more international notoriety.  Then, he would have been in with a more prestigious group of villains.

Midas sighed in aggravation.  In any case, he needed that damn army.  How difficult could it really be to find one green-skinned girl with a fancy manicure?  Esmeralda always stood out in a crowd. “I can find her.”  He agreed.  “Send the men and you have my word, my people will track her down, no matter how long it takes.”

“Great!  I’ll gather the information we have on Ez’s disappearance and be in touch.”  Letty hung up the phone without waiting for an answer, no doubt to start faxing him pointless maps of forgotten lands.

Damn Tuesday share circle.  Why couldn’t they just ask for gold?

Midas made a face and set the receiver back on its cradle.  Still, making Gwen happy was worth doing all kinds of exasperating things, even rescuing witches who probably didn’t need to be rescued.  For Gwen he would do… anything.  His new bride consumed every single thought in his head.

And all of them were confused.

She’d kissed him.  Again.  He still didn’t understand it, but it had really happened.  The woman was delicate and soft and tasted like magic.  And she’d kissed him.  Again.  It was a miracle.  He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything and she’d kissed him like she might just want him back.

Why?

Just because he couldn’t help himself, Midas looked down at his hands.  Covered in gloves and far too large, he’d always hated them, even before the curse made it impossible for him to touch anything living.  He flexed his fingers, sighing at the massive size of his fist.  They were the hands of someone who came from the poorest village in Camelot, and who fought other boys for food, and who worked in a stable until he was too exhausted to even sleep.

Hands like that weren’t meant to touch a queen.

Sighing, Midas opened the palace budget report lying on his desk. If he was going to be morose, he might as well be morose over Arthur’s substandard bookkeeping. Gwen had put him in charge of bringing Camelot back to fiscal solvency, but it was like trying to patch a hole in a boat, after it had already sunk to the bottom of the sea.  Dear God… Arthur might as well have just passed out his ATM pin number to any maniac walking by on the street.  It would have resulted in the same depressingly red numbers that Midas was seeing, now.  Hell, he might have even saved money.  The moron had spent so much that…

The door to his office creaked open, interrupting his mental ranting.  Midas’ head snapped up.  Avalon was standing there with her thumb in her mouth and dressed in a frilly pink nightgown.  Hadn’t Gwen already put her to bed?

“The child reports that she can’t sleep until she says good night to you.”  Trystan announced from behind her, answering Midas’ unspoken question.

Midas felt a genuine flash of panic.  The only times he’d interacted with Avalon, Gwen had been there to mediate.  What the hell did he know about kids?  What if she started crying or somehow broke?  For reasons that were beyond his understanding, the little girl seemed to like him, so far, and he lived in fear of screwing it up.

“Okay.”  Midas cleared his throat and focused on Avalon, hoping for the best. “Good night.”  He intoned and was pleased with himself.  He’d done it!  Thank God.

He waited for her to leave.

Instead, she kept staring at him expectantly.

Midas stared back.  A full minute ticked by and she still didn’t move.  Clearly, he was missing a step of this procedure.  “Ummmm…”  He hunted for something else to say.  “Would you care to sit down, for a bit?”  He tried and motioned for Avalon to come inside the office.

That seemed to do the trick.  “Okay.”  Avalon beamed and hurried over to crawl into the massive chair across from him.  “Wanna tell me a bedtime story?”  She asked and it wasn’t really a question.  She clearly anticipated that he’d do her bidding, just like Trystan did.  The gryphon was aggravatingly comfortable with children, something that Midas couldn’t help but envy.

“A story?”  Midas echoed, hoping he’d misunderstood the words.

“Uh-huh.”  She arranged herself on the thick upholstery, her face excited.  “A nice one.  I like stories!”

“Um…”  Nothing in Midas’ life had prepared him for such a terrifying moment.  He looked at Trystan for some hint on how to proceed.  “Do you know any nice stories?”

“We should tell her about the time I saved you from prison.”

“You saved me?  Are we going for a fictional tale, then?”

“We can take her down to the dungeon to see Percival.  He woke up, you know, and had quite a few opinions to share about my people.  It was an enlightening discussion.”

Midas mentally winced.  “Did he survive it?”

“I broke both of his arms.”  Trystan looked as amused as a gryphon could look, considering their lack of emotions.  “It’s quite funny to see them bend in all the wrong directions.  The child will be most entertained.”

Midas narrowed his eyes at the idiot.  “You’ll scare my daughter with that kind of talk.”  He snapped in the gryphons’ language.

Gryphons had never been ones for shades of meaning, so they didn’t have a word for ‘stepdaughter.’  A child was theirs, simply because they claimed it.  Still, saying “daughter” in any language threw Midas off-balance for a beat.  He’d never thought there would be a time in his life when a child was “his” anything.  Especially not one who only wore clothing that was the color of bubblegum and covered in shiny bits of shiny stuff.

He actually blinked, his brain trying to catch up with the idea.

“The girl should be scared.”  Trystan retorted in the gryphons’ dialect, not noticing Midas’ distraction.  “When Guinevere got rid of that rat-bastard king, she should have killed the Scarecrow and Percival, too. It was sloppy to leave enemies free in the world.  It’s why I plan to slay all of mine, at the earliest opportunity.”

Midas gave his head a clearing shake.  “There is no proof Gwen killed Arthur.”

Trystan made a considering face, conceding that point.  “Yes, she did well at covering up the crime.”  He admitted.  “I give your woman credit for doing part of the job correctly.”

Midas nearly rolled his eyes at that very Trystan-ish response.

Trystan crossed his arms over his chest, deep in thought.  “But the Scarecrow is still a threat.  He seeks to steal your woman and make her is own.  And you said that he plans to kill the child.”  He paused.  “Do we know why he is so determined to do that, by the way?  Because it seems important to know.”

“Not exactly, but I’m sure it has to do with her magic.”  He could feel Avalon’s power and so could Trystan.  It was impossible to miss.  “She must be a danger to him somehow.”

“Then he’ll just keep coming until she’s gone.”

Midas nodded, his insides sinking.  Who could possibly want to hurt this girl?  She was innocently watching them speak back and forth in a language she couldn’t possibly understand, with no idea of how much trouble she was in.  She smiled up at him, looking totally at ease, her bare feet dangling ten inches off the floor.

Son of a bitch.

Midas took a deep breath and turned back to Trystan.  “Hire more guards.”  He ordered.  “Hire everyone with a heartbeat and a sword in a hundred mile radius.  I don’t care what it costs, have my daughter watched twenty-four hours a day.”

This time he didn’t jolt at the word.

“I can kill thousands, but more men will come for her, until we deal with the underlying issue.”  Trystan predicted.

“What do you suggest, then?”  Midas snapped.  “We just wait for the asshole to harm her?”

“We need information, not more guards.”  Trystan arched a brow.  “I can talk to Percival again.  Your woman wants to know about possible places that wand could be hidden, yes?  Places the Scarecrow would not want to look?  Perhaps Percival has some suggestions.”

Actually, it did seem like a good plan.

“I’ll talk to him.”  Midas said quickly, forgetting to use the gryphons’ language.  “You stay here and tell Avalon a story.”  The gryphons had countless tales.  Surely Trystan could remember one.

“I want you to tell me a story.”  Avalon reminded Midas in a definite tone.  “A nice one.”

“Yes, you do it, Midas.”  Trystan headed for the exit, before she could change her mind.  “I will be out here, relishing the quiet and lack of glitter.”  He paused with his hand on the knob.  “Lyrssa bless you, my friend.”  He intoned as if Midas was off to battle a hydra and closed the door behind him.

Midas barely noticed his quick and cowardly exit.  His gaze stayed on Avalon, watching her like she was a cobra about to strike.  Were bedtime stories even allowed under Clause 3 of the Contract?  He was supposed to be ignoring the child, after all.  Retreat seemed like the best option.

He all but jumped to his feet. “Why don’t I go hire someone more qualified to…?”

“My daddy loves to tell me bedtime stories.”  Avalon announced happily not letting him finish the offer.  “He’s really good at it.”

Midas’ eyes narrowed a bit at that news… and he sat back down.  “He is, huh?”

“Yep.”  Blonde curls went flying every-which-way as she bobbed her head.  “He’s the best storyteller in the whole kingdom.  He’s really good at everything.”

Of course he was.  Midas’ lip nearly curled back in a snarl.  In his mind, Avalon’s “daddy” was handsome, noble, and talented at all kinds of ridiculous shit that little girls and their beautiful mothers appreciated.  It set his teeth on edge just thinking about the asshole.  “You spend a lot of time with your father?”  He asked, because he just couldn’t help himself.

“I will soon!”  She bounced up and down in her seat excitedly.  “We’s be a family!”

A… family?

No.  A crazed buzzing sound filled Midas’ ears.  No.  Anguish and rage blocked all rational thought.  Another man planned to steal away Midas’ True Love and Midas’ new step-daughter?  Give them his name?  Claim them as his own, while Midas went back to that cold front porch alone?

Oh fuck no.

“Your father is arriving soon?”  Somehow he kept his voice level.  “Does your mother know?”

He doubted it.  Not after kissing him like that.  Gwen was the most endearingly, crazily, horrifyingly direct person he’d ever met.  If she was waiting for a knight in shining armor to show up and save her from her villainous husband, she’d probably just say so.

“Oh, Mommy doesn’t like it when I talk about my daddy.”  Avalon rolled her eyes like she was the only sensible person in town.  “But it’s okay if I tell you, I guess.  We’s best friends.”

Midas certainly wasn’t going to argue.  “Is Galahad your daddy?”

“Nope.”

Relief flooded him at the simple answer.  “Are you sure?”

“’Course I’s sure.”  She scoffed.  “I know my own daddy when I see him.  He’s all the time in my head.”

Midas felt a surge of hope.  “This man is just in your imagination?”

“No!”  She made a face, as if that was crazy talk.  “But I…”  She stopped and looked over her shoulder, making sure no one was listening in.  Satisfied they were alone, she turned back to Midas and leaned in closer to the desk.  “I see things before they happen.”  She announced in a stage-whisper and pointed to her forehead.  “Everything but the blackbirds.  I don’t like them, because I can’t see them.  They’s scary.”

Midas blinked at her.

Avalon smiled guilelessly.  “Mommy says I’s not supposed to tell you ‘bout the stuff I see, because you might be upset, so shhh!”  She held a finger to her lips.  “It’s a secret.”

The child could predict the future?

Midas hesitated, trying to process that bombshell.  This wasn’t just Merlyn’s ability to remember backwards.  This was prophesy.  Shit.  He’d sensed that Avalon was powerful, but that was pushing the bounds of known magic.  Very few beings had abilities like hers.  This was why the Scarecrow wanted her dead.

Because Avalon was a superweapon with heart-shaped barrettes in her hair.

“I’m not upset.”  Midas lied, his mind trying to process this new twist.  Why could nothing with these two ever be easy?  “So you’re a sorceress, then?”  He surmised.

Just like the Lady of the Lake had been. Sorceresses were some of the most powerful beings in all of creation.  Which was why it was fortunate for all the righteous people out there that they were universally born Good.  …Up until Avalon Pendragon, anyway.

She was the first Bad folk in history with the potential to be unstoppable.

“I’m just Avalon.”  Avalon corrected.  Blue eyes, the same shade as her mother’s watched him closely.  “Are you’s mad at me?  Arthur always got real mad when I said stuff he didn’t want to hear.”  Her lips compressed into a disapproving pout.  “I’s didn’t like him.  He frowned a lot and he smelled funny.”

If she kept saying things like that, Avalon really would become Midas’ best friend.  “No, I’m not mad at you.”

But Arthur had apparently feared the child because of her gifts.  What a fucking moron.  No wonder she refused to acknowledge him as a parent.  Still, he hated the idea of Avalon feeling abandoned by her dickhead of a father.  That seemed like something that would damage a kid.  Midas’ father had left him and look at how he’d turned out, for God sake.

“Maybe Arthur wasn’t really mad, either.  Maybe he was worried about what you’d foresee.”  He offered that lame-ass excuse, wanting to make her feel better.  It was the closest he could come to defending the dickhead.

“No,” Avalon shook her head, like it was all quite obvious, “he just didn’t love me.”

Midas wasn’t sure what he should say to that.  Disagreeing would no doubt be a lie and agreeing seemed cruel.  If Arthur wasn’t already dead, Midas would’ve definitely found a way to kill him.  Somehow that didn’t seem like the best thing to share with a kindergartener, though.

Avalon didn’t mind his silence.  “I made him scared.  I’s tried not to, but,” she shrugged and sighed at the same time, “I can’t lie about what I’s see.  It would be wrong.”

Midas studied her for a long moment.  “My father didn’t love me, either.”  He finally murmured.

“I know.”  She agreed with an earnest nod.  “I’s seen it.”

“I’m sure you did.”  For a girl who could foretell the future, seeing the past must be no trouble, at all.  He found himself trying to explain some of the God-awful pictures that were probably in her head.  “My family were Good.  I wasn’t.  There were… issues.”

“My daddy says:  Sometimes the first family you get isn’t the right one.”

“Yes.”

And sometimes you just never got a family, at all.  Especially if you were Bad.  He wasn’t about to tell Avalon that, though.  As much as Midas despised him, Avalon’s daddy was right to shield her from the harsh realities of the world.  She’d know them for herself, all too soon.

The idea burned at Midas.  No one should ostracize this girl.  No one should ever think her less.  “There are people in this world who will never be as we hoped.”  He said, wishing he had better words to offer.  “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be as we are.  It doesn’t mean that we are the ones who failed.  You and I were born this way.  It was our fathers who failed in not accepting us.”  Until he said it, he hadn’t known how true it was.

Avalon looked at him in surprise.  “But Arthur wasn’t my daddy.”  She reminded him.

“Your mother thinks he was.  Seems as if she would know.”

Avalon tilted her head.  “My favorite color is pink.”  She told him apropos of nothing.

…Except he’d learned Gwen’s favorite color earlier, so perhaps the child was picking up on his memories.

“I’ve noticed you like it.”  He agreed.  “It’s why I had the painters redo your bedroom.”  Before it had been purple.  Pleasing Avalon was surprisingly important to him, so everything in the room was getting pink-ified.  And bedazzled.

“Is your favorite color pink?”  She persisted.

“My favorite color is gold.”

“No,” Avalon’s head tilted to the other side, considering him closely, “I don’t think it is.”

Midas refused to be distracted by her rapid-fire subject changes.  “How long have you been able to predict the future?”  He asked, wanting to stay focused.  Smalltalk with this child still made him nervous.  She seemed very smart, but what if he accidently frightened her? Maybe he should use a softer tone or shorter words or rhyme something.

“Forever.”  She swung her tiny feet, back and forth, and he noted that all of her toenails were painted in glittery peppermint polish.  He could only imagine that was Gwen’s handiwork.  “And my visions are never wrong.”  She preened at bit.  “I’m ‘mazing.  Mommy said so.”

Midas’s mouth curved.  “I’ve come to realize that your mother is usually right.”

Guinevere had also grown up with Merlyn, the greatest wizard in all of Camelot.  Her devotion to the man and her trust in his powers was unquestioned. Why wouldn’t that faith carry over to her daughter’s magic?

It explained so much.

His gaze stayed on Avalon.  “Did you tell your mother to come to me, when she escaped the Scarecrow?  That I would help her save Camelot?”

There was no one else who could have done it.  He realized that now.  No one else Gwen would have trusted.  And no one but his new “best friend” would ever have positive things to say about him.

“‘Course.”  Avalon said easily.

Midas stared at the girl. Of course.  It was so obvious.  “You told her I was an honorable man?”  He asked, just to be sure.

“Yep.”  Avalon beamed at him with unearned trust.  “You take care of Mommy and me. You protect us from the Mean Thing. I’s seen it.  You was waiting for us.  You met Mommy and you was happy.”

Midas’ pulse sped up, understanding what she meant by that merry little remark.  The child knew Guinevere was his True Love.

Damn it, what was he going to do, now?  Avalon must not have told her mother the whole truth, yet.  Maybe she was too young to even realize it.  But if she ever explained the bond to Gwen, it would be the end.  Guinevere would know she didn’t need to uphold her end of the Contract to persuade him to help her.  She’d leave.  He’d have nothing.

“It’s okay.”  Avalon said, interrupting his frantic thoughts.  She leaned closer again, like she sensed his internal distress and wanted to comfort him.  Her voice dropped to another loud whisper.  “We take care of you’s, too.”

Midas blinked at that reassurance and, amazingly, his panic… faded.

Avalon was wise beyond her years and she was going to keep his secrets.  He could see it in her small face.  For whatever reason, their interests aligned.  She grinned at him like they were on the same team, her tiny nose wrinkling in delight, and a frozen spot melted inside Midas’ chest.  A place for this girl that could never ice over again.  Avalon Pendragon was one of a kind.

And Midas was somebody who valued rare things.

He took a deep breath.  “I appreciate your faith in me.”  He told her in a very formal tone.  The child had entrusted him with her mother, after all.  Gwen was undoubtedly her most valuable possession and Avalon was counting on him to guard her.  That called for a solemn vow.

She nodded easily.  “Okay.”

“I will protect both of you.”  Midas assured her, just as he had her mother.

“I know.”  Avalon didn’t seem worried about his commitment.  “I seen it.”

She said that a lot, but he wasn’t sure what it meant.  “When did you see me…?”

Avalon cut him off, grinning happily.  “Your favorite color is blue!”  She exclaimed, as if she’d just puzzled out a difficult riddle.  “Like the magical lake.  Like me and Mommy’s eyes.”

Midas’ mouth curved.  “Yes.”  He allowed, blown away by her abilities.  One day this little girl was going to rule the world.  “That color blue is my favorite.  You’re right.”

“I’s always right.”  She switched topics again, faster than he could keep up.  “I like the way you talk!”

His eyebrows soared.  The girl liked his rough Celliwig accent?  That was a first.  Midas hunted for a response.  “Thank you.”

“I think you should talk some more.  …Like maybe if you were telling me a bedtime story!”  She clapped her hands together, obviously thinking she’d been quite crafty with that segue.  “You should tell me about rocking-horseflies.  They’s my favorite!”

Midas couldn’t quite contain another smile.  “You certainly have your mother’s talent for subtlety.”

And, like Guinevere, the child seemed to think she could strong-arm him into doing her bidding.  No one else in the world thought he was such a pushover, because he wasn’t.  Usually.  There was just something about Gwen and Avalon that made him want to give them whatever they wanted.  To keep them happy, and by his side, and thinking he was a kind man, he was willing to pay any price.

Even write some kind of (God help him) bedtime story.

Midas took a deep breath.  “I can tell you a story.”  He could recall some of Corrah’s old fables.  Or perhaps Avalon would like to hear tales of some of his more profitable business deals.  “May I ask you something first?”

“Sure.”

“Are you certain your daddy isn’t just in your head?”  Maybe Avalon rejected Arthur as her family, because he rejected her.  Maybe she’d invented a new father to fill the void.  He’d once read that small children sometimes invented make-believe friends.

Avalon laughed as if that was a hilarious joke.  “Oh no, my daddy is a real person.”  She sounded positive.  “I’s told Arthur about him and he got super mad.”

It sickened Midas to have anything in common with Arthur, but he fully understood the dead king’s feelings on the subject. He hated Avalon’s daddy, too.

“Well, is there anything I can do to dissuade your father from claiming you and your mother, then?”  Preferably, a way that didn’t end up with the jerkoff dead in a ditch.  No matter how much he detested the bastard, Midas didn’t want to murder Avalon’s beloved daddy.  It would no doubt upset the child.

Avalon shook her head, admiration in her tone and shining from her eyes.  “Nothing can stop my daddy.”  She gushed.  “He’s too strong.  A hero!  The most strongest man in the kingdom.”

God, Midas really wished he could just slaughter that fucker.  “Why don’t you tell me his name and I’ll ask him myself.”

She giggled like he’d told another joke, understanding his plans as soon as he concocted them.  “You’s can’t buy Mommy and me, silly!”

“Oh, I know that.”  Midas assured her in a sincere tone.

Although, he was completely willing to buy them.  Logically, it was the most efficient and practical idea.  He didn’t have a family of his own, so he would just buy one.  The only one he wanted.  The best one.  It made perfect sense.  There was nothing you couldn’t buy, if you offered enough money.

“You think you can buy everything.”  Avalon told him, her eyes burning right through to his deepest thoughts.  “I seen it.  But you’s can’t.”

Midas arched a brow at her naivety.  Avalon might be the most idealistic Bad folk in the kingdom, but that didn’t mean her “daddy” was.  The man would surely be open to a deal.  Midas was willing to pay anything, so they wouldn’t even need negotiations.  The bastard could have the goddamn moon, just so he relinquished his claim on Gwen and Avalon.  Midas would write a check for whatever it took and then everyone would be happy.

Especially Midas.  No price was too high to have the best.

“My daddy won’t ever sell us.”  Avalon continued with total and complete faith in the son of a bitch’s integrity.

Midas had several counting houses to bet on the fact she was wrong.  If her daddy left forever, he’d be richer than he’d ever dreamed.  Very few people would turn down an opportunity like that.  “We’ll see.”  He murmured, not wanting to disillusion the girl.

“My daddy loves me and Mommy way more than gold.”  Avalon smiled like she saw every Bad idea in Midas’ head and already knew they were doomed for failure.  “He’s the smartest man in the kingdom.”