Chapter 122

After that, the Horned King visited Avalina every day, staying for hours on end. They spoke of much during these times, and the lich, upon realizing Avalina was too tired to do so herself, started bringing books in to read to her.

And yet for a good deal of the time, they simply sat together and said nothing, merely enjoying each other's company in the silence.

Avalina looked up tiredly as the door opened to reveal the Horned King's towering figure deliberately approaching.

"Hello," she said cheerfully, her eyes brightening and her mouth turning up in a happy smile immediately upon seeing him.

"What took so long?"

"You have not been awake an hour yet," the lich commented, looking down at her from the bedside. His face was all but impossible to read, being skeletal and all, and his voice was as monotone as ever, but she sensed the smile in it and noticed the faint twitch of a cheek muscle there, and her smile grew bigger at the sight.

"I know, but I'm bored already," Avalina said sheepishly, looking down.

The Horned King could not help the warm, pleasant feeling that welled up inside him, seeing the beautiful smile she bestowed upon him. And he was in no hurry for it to leave. A haunting whisper at the back of his mind hissed that he was not worthy of anything she gave him, but he impatiently brushed it aside.

"Perhaps this will banish that horrible sensation from the room," he commented, holding up a book for her to see.

Avalina grinned in delight.

"My favorite!" She exclaimed excitedly.

"Yes," he replied,seating himself gracefully in the chair, "Although I cannot believe you have not memorized it by this point."

"I'll never memorize it!" She answered somewhat defiantly, grinning nonetheless.

"Cause then you'll stop reading it!"

"Then be silent so I can proceed," he told her, not unkindly, and she promptly obeyed, her face still bright, as he began.

"Once upon a time. . ."

When the Horned King had finished, it was silence in the room, and as he looked up he noticed her eyes were closed.

He could tell she wasn't asleep in the slightest, but he took a moment to study her features without her having to stare back at his own hideous face, before those beautiful eyes opened and he lowered his own, a faint thread of guilt twisting through him.

He did not deserve to behold something so lovely.

"Thank you," she told him, smiling sweetly, "That was wonderful."

"You are welcome," he dredged out, closing the book.

"Hearing about the nightingale singing makes me want to play again," she said wistfully, "When can I stop staying in bed all day?"

"When you have recovered enough of your strength to go wandering about," he replied, eyeing her sternly.

"And you had better not get any ideas of trying to get up before I deem you fit enough to do so."

The tone in his voice brooked no argument, and she lowered her eyes somewhat fearfully.

"Yes sir," she all but whispered, staring at the quilt top.

A moment later an Invisible entered with a tray, and the lich took the opportunity to defuse the fear he could feel building in her aura.

"I will leave you now," he ground out, rising easily.

Sensing her disappointment that he was departing, he glanced back.

"I will return shortly."

'How can she be disappointed I am leaving when she is clearly afraid?'

Her eyes, though still fearful, brightened at this and she nodded in reply, before he vanished from the room, feeling slightly puzzled.

"We know of the wicked ones down through the times," the second Invisible chanted as the four of them swept about, tidying the castle.

"Who's evil was boundless and power-lust ruled their minds," the third added, before they belted out together.

"But we still re-caaaaaall

The deadest warlord of aaaaaall!"

"He was also green," the third chipped in, snickering.

"Don't you mean, 'deadliest?'" the fourth asked as it dusted the hearth.

"No!" The second shouted, before admitting a moment later, "Well, that too, but that's not the point we're driving here."

"Oh."

Taking a breath, the second Invisible took off in full swing.

"Randall the Red-Eyed Reindeer

Had extremely blood red eyes."

Taking its cue, the third picked right up.

"And if you ever saw them

You knew that you were going to die."

"All of the other reindeer," the second continued, "Walked on four instead of two!"

Here the third came in, trying to sound sad but cackling too hard to really care.

"They never let poor Randall

Stick around for late-night booze."

"But then one dark and stormy night," the second sang, "Randall swore revenge."

"The Horned Huntsman he became," the third added, "Killed them all on a blood-lust binge!"

"So began his reign of terror," the second said, "Nothing stood long in his way!"

"Minions in droves he gathered," the third cried, "To fight in the melee-ing fray!

The fourth spun on the hearth, suddenly turning to them and breaking out in a rhyme of their own.

"His presence left all horrified

He had a face like Death

His features skeletal and green

The Grim Reaper could not have wrought more screams!"

"Wow, that's epic!" The second said, "Congratulations!"

"Thank you," the fourth accepted, bowing low, "However I can't take all the credit. Your friend helped me with them."

"So they'd blend, no doubt," the second agreed, before breaking out into song again, the third following up with lines of their own.

"The Cauldron Randall wanted

A vicious hunk of metal black."

"To raise an undead army

And take over everything on land!"

Here, the two of them chimed in together, snickering.

"At last his goals were all complete

Victory was his

Until fizz out the Cauldron did

And spew a monsoon of Cheese Whiz!"

Breaking down in cackles, the duo were regaining their breath when the first walked in.

"What's all this about Cheese Whiz?" It asked, slightly irritable, "And furthermore, *what* is Cheese Whiz?"

"Finish it with us!" The third and second bellowed as they swept through the hall, dusting like mad, and the fourth joined in as they flashed past Avalina's closed door.

"Then everyone rejoiced now

That the war was finally o'er

Randall the Red-Eyed Reindeer

He'll eat grilled cheese nooooooooooo moooooooooooooore!"

They did not miss the tired, yet cheerful laughter that emanated from Avalina's room, and once out of hearing range, they happily high-fived each other, content with a job well done.

As the Horned King walked slowly down the hall toward her chambers, the anticipation that drove him conflicted with the faint hissing of the Cauldron that niggled at the back of his mind incessantly, slowing him, but compounding his need to be near the girl as well. Perhaps when he was with her the voice would stop tormenting him, at least for a little while. It had never bothered him when she was around.

The Invisibles had told him that until she recovered enough to move around again, Arawn posed no threat to her, as she was currently too weak to sense him, and this gave the lich some form of relief. But he knew when she got better the Invisibles would have to take even more precautionary measures to prevent his old master from hurting her again.

He felt himself getting angry just thinking about it.

The Invisible silently swung open the door for him and he came in, composing himself, not missing how her face lit up at the sight of him, and the whisper of the Cauldron instantly vanished, to his relief.

After a time of just sitting together, Avalina quietly spoke up.

"Sir? Can I ask you a question?"

"You have already asked me two," he replied, "But you may ask a third."

"What's your favorite color?"

The lich arched a brow in surprise at her question, but replied after a moment.

"I do not have one."

"How can you not have one?" Avalina asked in surprise.

"Everybody has a favorite color. Or two. Sometimes more."

"Color means little to me," the Horned King rumbled. "It serves no purpose, and I have no need for it."

"Everyone needs colors!" Avalina exclaimed softly.

"The world would be nothing without color! It would all look so bland and. . .lifeless. The plants wouldn't be green and the dirt wouldn't be brown and snow wouldn't be white. . .the night wouldn't even be black without color! It would all be blank."

"Are you certain that black is a color?" He inquired of her.

"It is nothing but emptiness."

"Of course it's a color!" She said.

"It's what the night is! And the raven. And shadows."

The Horned King was silent for a moment, thinking. He had never really thought of black as a color before, seeing nothing but emptiness whenever he looked at it. It reminded him of what he knew himself to be. He had cloaked himself in shadows and dwelt in the darkness as long as he could remember, the outside world holding nothing of interest for him, nor was the world interested in urging him outside.

Whenever he walked into a room, it immediately became black with terror. Even the torches were suffocated by it. It followed him everywhere he went. There was no escaping it, and although it was the only color with which he was truly familiar, (as well as being the only color that welcomed his presence) the more he thought about it, the more he disliked it.

"Do you like it?" She asked.

The Horned King pondered how to answer this without revealing too much. Many people saw nothing but evil whenever they beheld its dark hue, but by the tone in her voice she obviously did not.

'Somehow I am not surprised,' he thought wryly to himself.

"I do not believe I am fond of the color black," he dredged out at length. Seeing the look on her face, he continued, "But no doubt you have reason to like it?"

"Yes," she said softly, looking down with a smile.

"It reminds me of Mitternacht."

"Hm."

The Horned King nodded his head faintly in approval. That was a valid answer.

After a moment he spoke again.

"You have already told me your favorite colors are blue and orange," he commented.

"Forget-me-not blue and lily orange," she corrected, giggling.

"I like those shades best. And green and gold too."

The lich gave a faint rumble of amusement. To anyone else it wouldn't have even been noticed but she was used to his normally frosty demeanor and saw the finer points of his personality lying underneath.

"Noted," he corrected himself, "But surely you must feel a certain attraction to those colors to make them your preference?"

"Well. . .I like orange because it reminds me of the sky at sunup and sunset," she explained, after a moment of thought. "It's so bright and beautiful! Seeing it makes me happy."

"I believe it would hurt my eyes," her companion commented, "But nonetheless, continue."

Avalina giggled and did so.

"I like gold because it reminds me of the sun, and how warm and cheerful it is. I like green because it reminds me of the grass and the trees and growing, living things that I love. And I like blue because it reminds me of the flower, and the sky and the wind."

The Horned King settled back faintly in his chair.

"I see," he rumbled.

"So what about you?" She asked.

"What's your favorite color? I know you don't have one yet but maybe you can pick one?"

"I will contemplate that," he told her, the faintest hint of a smile gracing his eyes for a moment before they returned to their seemingly empty state.

She smiled eagerly at him.

"Just don't wait too long," she laughed.

"Please?"

"We will see."

Silence settled down rather comfortably over the room, each occupant drifting in their own thoughts, but nonetheless enjoying the company of their companion.

All this talk of colors had Avalina thinking about all the different shades that filled her world, including the ones she didn't care much for. She had never been particularly fond of the color red. The first thing she had always thought of upon seeing red was blood, and danger, and malice, and she didn't like that.

Nor was she fond of purple. As with red, it reminded her rather unpleasantly of harsh bruises, and pain, and violence.

Except, this time, when those particular colors came to mind, her first mental images were of something different. Avalina glanced very briefly over at the Horned King, taking in his robe.

It was an odd color, to be certain. Neither red nor purple, but a strange combination of the two. The actual shade of the cloth varied as to which light its wearer was in, seeming to shift hues subtly at will, and she was struck with the realization of how well those colors matched him.

He had spilled much blood, she knew. When he was angry his eyes flashed red. He was harsh, and cruel, and cold, and violent. He had caused much pain.

The entire world saw him in this way, as had she for a time. He had been all of those things to her and more, but he had also been kind, and gentle, and patient, and protective, even playful.

The first thing she had been reminded of upon seeing his robe for the first time was wine. She had heard many people say that wine was a purplish-reddish type of shade. She had always thought of his robe as wine-colored, despite never seeing the drink for herself until she started staying here.

She decided she liked the color wine. A powerful color, it was purple, and it was red, two hues that reminded her of bad, painful things, but mixed together, they created something new. Something different, unusual and special. Something neither dark nor light, something mysterious, fascinating and haunting, and for the first time in her life, she was able to truly associate those two colors to something she held very dear.

'What are things I like that are red and purple?' She puzzled to herself.

'There must be something.'

Pondering to herself, she thought, 'What do I like about red? It's not a very friendly color. It's rather fierce and intimidating. Oh, I know! Flowers. I like red flowers, but especially roses. And the sun when it's rising or setting. It's red occasionally. And red represents love and the heart on paintings sometimes. And leaders usually wear it. Yes,' she thought, satisfied, 'Those are things I like about red. It fits both sides of the Horned King.'

Now for the other color.

'Purple is more difficult' she thought, 'I never see it unless it's bruises, or injuries. Wait. . .Royalty. Purple is a royal color. It represents wealth and pride as well. I see it sometimes on flowers, but not often. Many people think that purple is a most unnatural color, but the sky is sometimes purple, when the sun rises or sets. And the Horned King is royalty, obviously.'

She glanced over at him from the corner of her eye, her gaze resting on his horns for a moment, a faint smile curving the corners of her mouth.

'Yes. He does look rather...noble.'

So, those were things she liked about her two least favorite colors. She still didn't like them, but mixed together, they were not...entirely repulsive.

She had never seen wine before she came here, only heard of it, but she knew that the Horned King was the only thing in her life she could ever link that hue to now. It was his color, and he wore it well.

Yes, she decided. She liked the color wine very much.

But there was one other color, one far more obvious, that had grabbed her attention and held it well before his robe ever had...

The Horned King sat in silence, slowly going over all the colors he could think of. He had never bothered to ponder on how many there were in the world, but now that she had brought it up he had a sneaking feeling he would be paying more attention from now on.

'I have no color I prefer,' he thought. 'I never have, although black obviously favors me.'

He narrowed his eyes faintly. Black had been the only color that did not cower from him, instead embracing his evil to its full extent. It aided him and followed him, but it could also be considered a curse, if he thought about it too long.

Silently contemplating, he stared at the floor, going over all the colors near him.

The castle was dull and brownish, and the torches were only lit when necessary, casting the place in perpetual dimness. Its furnishings held no appeal. The Invisibles rainbowed nearly everything, (much to his extreme annoyance) save the stones, although he did not doubt they would if the fancy struck them.

The gwythaint was mostly black. So was the Cauldron. And his master had worn nothing but that. And it was the color of his own sluggish lifeforce that sloughed through his dead veins.

The lich gritted his fangs.

He was not fond of black. Save Mitternacht. The horse was the only exception.

He did not even pause to think of blue. It reminded him repulsively of water. Nor was he particularly fond of red. Too bright, too harsh, it reminded him too much of what he was bound to return to, and he held down a faint shudder. Although the idea of the Pig-Keeper's blood running through his fingers was not an unwelcome thought.

The sky above the castle was constantly reddish-black. Although the sun had been piercing through the clouds almost regularly since Avalina had arrived.

Avalina.

The lich had no trouble recalling her eyes. They were as full of Life as the mountains in spring. The golden rays that fanned out inside them were as warm and bright as the sun.

Deep as a forest pool, their clarity was startling. It reminded him of sunlit emeralds.

The lich only felt truly comfortable in darkness, in the depths of his castle, away from the world, and yet, he loathed the shadows almost as much as he valued them.

And as of late, he had found himself increasingly, inexplicably. . .drawn to the light.

It still hurt his eyes and made him feel too exposed at times, but it warmed him and gave a change from his eternally dim surroundings. Avalina liked to dwell in it, and he would find himself coming into it for her sake.

It was not entirely unpleasant. Not at all. If anything, it was the opposite. And the light in her eyes...

"I believe I am partial to the color green," he dredged out, destroying the silence and making her jump slightly at the sound of his voice.

"What does it remind you of?" Avalina asked brightly, eagerly awaiting his answer.

The lich pondered how to reply to this without embarrassing her, at length speaking a single word.

"Life."

Avalina smiled happily.

"Me too."

Another silence passed, before Avalina softly spoke up.

"I. . .wasn't entirely truthful earlier," she admitted.

The lich arched an intrigued brow at her, an invitation to continue.

"There. . .*is* another reason I like black," she said, looking almost embarrassed.

"Oh?" The Horned King inquired, seeing how she felt self-conscious even talking about it and privately wondering what it might be.

"I. . .the other reason I like the color black is because. . ."

Here Avalina took a breath, before softly finishing.

"It reminds me of you."

I apologize for the wait, y'all. :( I haven't had much time to write this past week but it's finally done. XD

I did get *two* new followers on my story though! Thank you guys so much! You're awesome! And I *love* the reviews! Just don't forget to review the last one like you promised, Mocarela! Lol! And don't worry about crashing my inbox, I'll take your awesome reviews over Yahoo's stupid ad mail any day. XD

I'm sure everyone, even the aliens, know what song the Invisibles parodied so there's no reason for me to type it. XD I seriously cracked up way too much writing that. Hahahaha!

A thousand thank yous to my reviewers and readers! =D