Chapter 132
"Well, what do you think of these?"
"I don't know, human," the goblin shrugged. "Can't read."
Avalina flinched at her callousness. She had forgotten.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I'll read them off."
She hadn't gone five names down the list when Creeper stopped her again.
"I think you need to say them all again, a little slower. And in English."
Avalina stifled a sigh. She and Creeper had been in the library for hours, looking through books and making a list of possible names for Addie's baby. Rather, Avalina had been making a list. She had dragged Creeper into it too, telling him he had to help this time, and now he begrudgingly sat on the couch with her as she attempted to read off the list of possibilities.
His not being able to read made things harder, because once Avalina had said a handful of names and their meanings he would confuse them all and she would have to start over. It was tiring but Avalina was tactful not to show the slightest sign of frustration with the goblin when he couldn't remember what she said. She knew however callous he acted about it, the fact that he could not read embarrassed and annoyed him deeply, and it bothered her. It would have bothered her even if he had been indifferent, simply because everyone deserved the right to know how to read.
Without reading and writing, many of Life's most important doors were shut fast. They had been to Avalina once, and now she didn't know how she had survived without being able to read. And the Horned King was teaching her, and already taught her, so much already. . .
"Alright," Avalina smiled at Creeper, "I'll try to go slower this time."
"Why do you have to pick names that're so hard to say? And with meanings?" Creeper asked, half in curiosity and the other half irritation. "Nobody cares what they mean."
"I do," Avalina answered softly, deciding not to mention that the Horned King seemed to have taken an interest in names and their meanings since she had brought the subject up. Despite his insistence that he cared nothing for designations, she had a sneaking feeling he might not be as dismissive of names as he had been before. However, she said nothing of this to the goblin. He didn't need to feel she was comparing him to his master.
Her answer stilled Creeper for a moment, before he asked another question, in a considerably less hostile tone than before.
"Why do names have to have meanings anyway?"
"Um. . .Well. . ."
Avalina leaned back on the couch in thought. She had never pondered this before.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I've never met someone who's name was meaningless. Sometimes a word from another language will become the base for a name, and then it will turn into something entirely new, or it will have a similar meaning, or. . .something. It's sort of complicated to explain. It's said that the meaning of your name will shape your destiny. Names do have power, you know. That's why so many people name their children things with brave or noble meanings."
"You believe in that silly stuff?" Creeper huffed at her. "It's just a silly fairytale."
"Is it?"
Creeper said no more, and after a moment, Avalina took up her task again, slowly reading off the list. She was halfway down when Creeper stopped her.
"What's that one again?"
Avalina repeated it.
"What's it mean?"
Avalina explained.
After a moment, Creeper said, "I like that one."
Avalina grinned happily at him. "Me too! Now all we have to do is pick one from the girl's side!"
"WHAT?!"
"Yes, child, I heard what you said. However, I must request you repeat it. The explosion from the Invisibles' newest invention (that they insisted on setting off) is still ringing inside my head. And take care where you step, there are pots and pans lying everywhere."
Avalina was nearly doubled over in the doorway, laughing for all she was worth.
"You've got one on your horns too! Ahahahaha!"
"How observant."
The Horned King fixed her with a look intended to be cutting, but after watching her laugh herself silly at his predicament the best he could manage was a heavily disgruntled expression, determined to keep the corner of his mouth from twitching up as he listened to her.
The Invisibles had gotten bored this morning (rather, more bored than per usual) and after they had asked the Horned King no less than thirty seven times if they could put bows on his horns, he had lost patience and told them to go find their amusement somewhere else. After his anger had worn off he had immediately regretted doing so. At least while they had been annoying him he had known where they were, but now...they could be anywhere, and as the Horned King well knew, idle hands and idle minds were the devil's playground. And the Invisibles were anything but an exception to this rule. They were, instead, the perfect epitome of it.
The disaster came in record timing. No doubt through their conjuring skills, they had cobbled together some sort of steel device they explained later had the same effect as a catapult, but with an entirely different manner of operation. The Horned King had no warning at all before it had gone off, only that it had been fired from the balcony above the entrance room, and he, not knowing of its' existence, had been directly in the line of fire.
The explosion alone had been enough to temporarily deafen him, and due to the echoing nature of the walls, he had been clueless as to where it hailed from.
He found out very soon.
All manner of pots, pans, and kitchen cutlery had rained down upon him from the balcony like enemy fire, and in his complete shock over what had happened (and still faintly dazed from the noise) a random pot had struck his horns and lodged there, and no amount of pulling at it would get it off. He could force it off, of course, but he would rather not snap off one of his horns in the process. The agony that would stem from such a choice stayed him.
The Kitchen Cannon 3000, as the Invisibles had proudly called it, had blown off a good section of the balcony railing, who's splintered remains rested with the cutlery below. After firing, the recoil from the massive hunk of steel had shot it effortlessly backwards across the balcony and smashed itself into the wall where it lodged, the long muzzle being the only thing protruding from the crumbled stones. The blast had been loud enough to echo through the entire castle and had brought Avalina running from the stable. She had been in the middle of exercising Mitternacht when it happened, and the Horned King could only imagine what he looked like when she burst in the door, seeing splintered wood and what looked like half the kitchen covering the floor around him, as he stood tall in the center, adorned with a shiny new headpiece.
"Are you quite finished?" The Horned King asked after a long moment of silence.
"Yes," Avalina gasped, "I think so."
Leaning against the wall, she straightened up, taking him in and willing herself not to laugh anymore.
"Why don't you take it off?" She asked, with a valiant effort at keeping her face more or less straight. "You've been wearing it for a while now."
"It's stuck."
The defeat in his voice made her mouth twitch horribly and she had to grit her teeth to bite it back, something that did not slip by unnoticed.
"Do you want me to help get it off?" She asked, trying to sound as helpful as possible.
The Horned King looked like every ounce of pride he owned was taking a murderous beating inside his head. His fists were clenched, every muscle tense, and it was only after a long moment of agonizing silence that he ground out his answer from behind gritted fangs.
"If you please."
Taking a deep breath, Avalina walked over, determined not to laugh in his face.
"Here, come sit on the couch," she smiled, gesturing. "It'll be more comfortable."
After he deliberately seated himself, he bent down more to her level, where she could reach the wretched thing that had stuck itself over his horns. (Privately he thought one of the Invisibles were to blame. Randomly flying pans couldn't possibly aim that well)
"This is humiliating," he growled, bracing himself, as she took a grip and began feeling around the edges, "And to think I, of all the sentient life in the world, am the only one at the mercy of deranged invisible maniacs."
Avalina gritted her teeth to keep from laughing at the sight of her friend, but her struggle was sadly obvious. She didn't want to offend him, as it was obvious this incident had thoroughly hung his dignity out for target practice, and he had suffered her amusement enough already.
For a fleeting second it looked like she had finally gotten her giggles under control, but the hopeful moment was shattered when an Invisible cackled, "How's it goin', pothead?"
The Invisibles burst into hysteria while Avalina, unprepared for their comment, promptly bent double as a silent wave of mirth escaped her.
Slumping to the floor in front of the couch, she held her stomach with one hand and gripped the cushion with the other, her silence stretching on and on as the Invisibles' cackling echoed around the room.
When she finally pulled in enough breath to laugh, she laughed til the tears came and a quick glance up at the Horned King, sitting on the couch with a pot on his head and wearing a facial expression reminiscent of a withered old grape, was more than enough to set her off again.
She had no idea how long this went on, only that black spots were dancing over her vision when she dimly heard the Horned King release a very faint chuckle, which encouraged her own laughter. Upon looking up at him she noticed how his features had softened and he seemed to be attempting to control amusement rather than anger.
A good half-hour later, Avalina had managed to get most of the laughter out of her system and had carefully worked the pot off the lich's horns over the course of several minutes. The Horned King had been relieved to get it off, to say the least, and afterward they sat on the couch for some time as Avalina got her breath back.
At the Horned King's orders, the Invisibles obligingly cleaned up the mess, cackling softly to themselves. Avalina would have laughed with them if her sides didn't ache so much.
"Are you angry?" She asked, looking over at him.
"No," he rumbled after a moment, "Merely annoyed."
Seeing her face fall slightly, he continued, "But the knowledge that I am responsible for your laughter is. . .gratifying."
"You should have seen yourself," Avalina giggled, "You looked like a deranged cook."
"...I am disturbed by how vividly I see that image."
Avalina laughed again, her next sentence causing the Horned King to groan and place a hand over his eyes in the most expressive show of emotion Avalina had ever seen him do.
"All you were missing was an apron!"
"Well done."
Avalina blushed furiously as she looked up from her lesson.
"Thank you sir."
The Horned King nodded faintly.
"That is all for today."
Closing the book, Avalina hopped off the chair to put it back on its shelf.
"Thank you," she answered suddenly, "For doing this."
The Horned King twitched a finger in casual dismissal, but nonetheless felt warmer at her statement.
"It is nothing."
"Oh, but it is," Avalina insisted. "I never knew so much existed in the world until you started telling me."
The Horned King dipped his head faintly to her. "Anyone with intelligence feels this way upon amassing knowledge. It is natural. Although I must admit, it is not always I doing the teaching."
Avalina furrowed her brows puzzledly. "How do you mean?"
The Horned King was silent for a time, and it was only when Avalina managed to put the book away and come over to him that he seemed to come out of his thoughts and reply.
"It is nothing." Turning to her, he continued, "You have finished that book in almost half the time than Creeper when he was merely looking at the pictures."
"But there isn't many pictures," Avalina said, confused.
"/Aren't/ many," the lich corrected her. "And that is exactly my point."
"Oh."
Compliments were rare from the Horned King, and blushing in pride, Avalina glanced down at the floor, feeling so happy that he thought her worth complimenting on, before suddenly remembering.
"That reminds me, can I ask you something?"
The lich tilted his head down faintly to let her know he was listening, and after a moment, she nervously asked her question.
"Can you teach Creeper to read too?"
A faint snarl of surprise ground from his chest and Avalina started slightly.
"Why?" He asked, brow ridges pulled down in an almost angry scowl.
"I just. . .well. . .he wants to learn how," she stammered, looking up at him uncomfortably. "And since you were teaching me I thought maybe you could teach him too?"
"No." The answer was very nearly a growl. "He is not worth my time."
"But he wants to learn!"
"Then you teach him."
"What?" Avalina asked, stunned so by his unfeeling tone she barely understood his words.
"If you feel he is worth the trouble, then there is nothing stopping you from doing it yourself."
His tone was colder than usual, and it almost frightened her, the way he spoke.
"But I. . .I can't!" Avalina protested in shock. "I don't know how!"
"If you want to teach him badly enough, you will find a way," he told her indifferently, turning away.
"What do you have against him?" Avalina cried. "He's done nothing to you!"
The Horned King faintly snarled, his back to her. "You are dismissed."
There was no arguing with him when he used that tone. It never ceased to chill her, how subtle he was, even when angry, and sounding like he hated everything in the world. There was a sense of coldness to his voice that never left.
Trembling, Avalina backed out the room as the Invisible opened the door, before running down the hall to her chambers. She didn't want him to see her crying.
But he had felt it. He had turned back, sensing her fear and hurt in the air and instantly remembering the last time she had been afraid in his presence.
Her name was on his tongue, but in a faint swish of fabric and brownish mane, she was gone before he could speak.
"Well Sire," the Invisible said blandly after she left, "You handled that well."
"Silence," the lich snarled, fisting his hands furiously by his sides as the Invisible replied.
"I'm curious myself, what /do/ you have against that goblin anyway?"
After nearly a minute of total silence, the Invisible spoke again, its voice harsh. "Was it bad enough to deserve a lifetime of punishment under you?"
The lich growled low in his chest.
"Get out."
"As you wish."
Right before the door closed, the Invisible added, "It wouldn't hurt you, you know, to try and give him at least half an opportunity. If Avalina thinks he's at all teachable then I'd say. . ."
"Nobody asked you," the Horned King ground threateningly.
"He's at least entitled a chance. Don't forget. . ."
"Out."
The last words the Invisible spoke before it left echoed in the room for a long time afterward.
"Avalina gave you two more than you ever deserved."
Several hours later, when her frightened tremors had finally stopped and she had more or less gotten herself back together, Avalina slipped out of her room, asking the Invisible near her to have Creeper meet her in the library. She had no idea in the world how she was going to go about this, but if the Horned King wouldn't teach the goblin then she would at least try. She had to, for his sake.
Stepping around the shelves, she felt another Invisible near, and asked it to show her the simple books for children.
A piece of parchment appeared out of thin air just long enough to read before disappearing.
Oh, sure! We just finished making one! Come on!
'Well, at least /they're/ helping,' she thought in relief, following it as it swished around the shelves.
Rounding a shelf end, she felt the Horned King's aura right before she saw him, standing there (and looking terribly out of place) in an aisle of outlandishly childish looking book covers.
She couldn't help jumping as a chill of apprehension swept over her. For a fleeting moment she thought of leaving immediately, but he was already looking up at her.
After a few hours without the Invisibles pestering him, the Horned King's temper had calmed again and he had thought out a solution to the problem he was now faced with.
Avalina did not understand that the wretched little creature was too dimwitted to value an education in any way. He could not appreciate it the way she did, and therefore was not only unteachable, but undeserving of one as well.
He would simply prove to Avalina that the goblin could not be taught. The creeper was an idiot, almost as badly as the Invisibles. It took certain persuasion to get things through his thick skull, but with the proper motivation it could be done.
The Horned King was aware that Avalina did not approve this method of motivation. Nor did he think it would be particularly useful for what she had requested. And so it was only logical he let her have her way, and see the downfalls of it.
He would do one lesson. Without causing harm to the goblin to get his point across. He would let the wretched thing have its chance. Without pain as a motivator the creature would not learn, and Avalina would have to accept he was unteachable, and that would be the end of it.
The Horned King had been angry until she rounded the corner on him. Upon seeing her apprehensive expression he had softened, the majority of his bad mood dissipating.
"Forgive my outburst from earlier," he rumbled, lowering his head faintly, realizing it sounded more like an order than a request. But Avalina smiled, and her eyes had already forgiven him before she could verbally reply.
Seeing her questioning look, he had twitched a hand faintly at the books and explained.
"I will give the goblin one lesson."
Avalina gasped happily and was about to say something, but he held up his hand for silence as he continued.
"But it will be wasted. Intelligence is lost on him."
"No, he can learn! I taught him to braid!" Avalina exclaimed happily. "He made a new rope for the curtains at the glass window!"
The Horned King froze a moment. He had seen that rope, but he had thought it was hers or the Invisibles' work.
". . ./He/ made that?"
Avalina nodded excitedly, ignoring the lich's surprised disbelief. "And the gwythaints' collars too!"
After a moment, the lich recovered from this and shook his head slightly.
"That is entirely different from what you insist he learn from me."
"But it's a start, isn't it?"
The Horned King sighed heavily.
"Yes."
As the two companions prepared to exit, the lich carrying a handful of books, an Invisible spoke up from nearby.
"Okay y'all! Everybody make way for His Most Professional Professionally-ness, Professor Horatio Horn-Blower!"
Avalina burst into laughter as another voice off to the side cackled in glee, "Ya need a monocle, buddy?"
The Horned King glowered daggers at the general area of where he estimated the voice to be.
"Aren't you supposed to stay silent?" He growled pointedly.
"Psh, that silly rule?" The first asked. (Or was it the second?) "Oh, the Fates finally did away with it. Said it wasn't worth the effort of keeping."
"Bahahaha!" The other cackled in triumph. (Or was it the first?) Now we can make aaaaall the noise we want. Aahahahahahaha!"
"And the best part of it is, we're gonna get to see Hoptoad /and/ His Royal Deranged Potheaded Cookliness in the same room together! Bahahahahaahaha!"
Avalina was laughing uncontrollably by this point, and after several long moments of begrudging silence, the Horned King's biting reply promptly rendered her silent with mirth. (Whether or not that had been intended remained debatable amongst the Invisibles for all of six seconds afterward)
"I am not wearing that apron."
"Too late!" They cackled maniacally. "Too late! Muahahahahahahahaa!"
Looking down at himself, the Horned King realized he was now wearing a full-length white cook's apron, and a move of his head indicated the weight of a cooking toque nestled over his horns.
Eyes narrowed, he glared blankly in front of him, resisting the urge to grind his fangs together and give them even more merriment.
Glancing down, he realized Avalina was now reduced to a heap on the floor, laughing so hard she was completely silent.
The lich managed to hold his glare until she drew in enough breath to laugh out loud for all she was worth, causing his mouth to twitch up after a minute. It was then that own faint chuckle was added to the uproar inside the library, and if he was completely honest with himself, he realized he rather enjoyed doing it.
I'm very sorry I took so long to update, guys. :'( (22 days, in fact. -_-) I had no motivation to write the past few weeks. I had nothing to go on and I had no inspiration whatsoever. And then hearing about Leonard Nimoy's passing definitely didn't help. :'( So the last week has not been my best. :'(
The reason I took so long to update is because I had nothing /to/ write, even though I still have tons of notes. XD Does that make sense? I couldn't think of /anything!/ GAH! I'll do my best to prevent this from happening in the future, but I can't promise anything. You know how writer's block is, I'm sure. XD But, in my absence I have gotten two new readers! Yay! *parties madly* Whoo! And they left reviews too! *dances* Thank you guys so much, I appreciate reviews like you wouldn't believe! =D
And to fairytales: I hope you liked Rigoletto! =D
And so, I say to all my beautiful readers and reviewers, until the next chapter...(and hopefully after it too XD) Live long and prosper. \V/ (-Vulcan hand symbol there XD)