MIDAS

Something feels odd.

Not necessarily bad odd...just...different.

He frowns, his eyes still closed as he slowly pushes his mind from beneath the fog of sleep and into the reality of a new day.

And no...it is not just the very naked woman snoring gently into the nook of his shoulders that is making him feel this way.

She murmurs in her sleep as if in response to him, nestling closer and his arms subconsciously tighten around her, pulling her to him without his even needing to think about it. His eyes blink slowly open as if resisting his efforts to awaken.

And it takes Midas more than a few minutes to realize exactly what it is that has been needling at him.

He has just slept through the entire night and well into the morning without waking up even once in between.

The last time Midas had slept this well was the night before he saw his parents for the very last time.

Of course he did not know that then.

All he had known, that fateful morning, was that they were about to embark on a journey to the 2nd realm, to the human kingdom called Averia to resolve an important issue between the two realms. It was the journey from which they would never return.

And ever since that day, the day they brought the young prince, suddenly turned King the news of his parents' passing, Midas has been unable to truly sleep well.

Unable to give himself up fully to the blessed oblivion of dreamy unconsciousness for more than one or two hours at a time.

Because every time he closed his eyes, his mind beginning to drift off, he would replace himself reliving that last day over and over again.

In his dreams...his nightmares, he tries to stop them from leaving.

But every time, his voice would disappear and they would be unable to hear him, unable to understand his frantic efforts to stop them.

Every time, they would leave, with the loud crackling sound of their drawn carriage rolling across the stony courtyard following them out, the gates falling shut behind them, and every time... everytime, they never came back. He would jerk awake, soaked in sweat, his heart pounding,

His mind would be reeling with all the things he could have said, could have told them if he had only known it would be the last time.

He would have hugged his mother back when she wrapped her arms around him, her head barely coming up to his shoulders.

He would not have argued with his father, their last words to each other harsh and biting.

Especially since now he does not even remember exactly what had brought about that fight.

One out of the so many they'd had over the years; two stubborn, strong willed men.

Yet if he had known it would be the last time he saw the man who raised him in his own tough yet strangely loving way, he would not have said the things he said.

A hundred and fifty years had done nothing to dull the pain of having them suddenly snatched away from him before he could say goodbye, before he could make things right.

And thoughts like that were what made it impossible for him to sleep for longer than two hours at once.

His nights were sporadic, filled with sleeping and waking and sleeping again.

And when he could take it no more, he would rise from his bed at the 4th bell, always awake before the servants even came to his door. Always.

Yet since her appearance in his castle, in his life, he has woken up late not once...but twice.

His dreams filled not with the echoes of regret and guilt he is familiar with but rather with the vibrant fire of her hair and the softness of her lips.

And today, were it not for her hair tickling his nose as she buried her face closer to his chest, he might not even have awoken until noon.

He has almost forgotten what it feels like.

What it meant to have a good night's rest.

And the reason for the difference sleeps on in his arms, mouth parted, cheeks pressed against his bare chest.

Utterly oblivious of the effect she has had on him.

The corner of Midas mouth lifts up in the ghost of a half smile.

Wait till he tells her she snores in her sleep.

He watches her sleep for what feels like a long time, knowing he should get up but not wanting to.

He can see a tiny little red mark on the base of her neck.

His mark

The one his hungry kisses had left behind.

And Midas replaces himself aching to press his lips gently against it.

His hand hovers over her... her hair...her cheeks and he swallows, his throat bobbing up and down with the force of the motion.

He wants to touch her, to stroke her cheekbones and trace the planes of her sleepy face with the pad of his fingers.

To kiss her awake and repeat last nights' events all over again.

He sighs and pulls his hand back, letting it fall to his side.

Because no matter how much he wants to, he knows he can't.

Not yet.

Not until he knows who she really is.

What... she really is.

The prophecy of the king maker Elian, messenger of Lachesis the Future comes back to him.

Those haunting words etched into the folds and recesses of h is mind.

She is to be the center of a storm that will shake all of the 7 realms, his included.

What did that even mean?

Is she going to be the problem....or the solution?

Midas does not know but the king makers have told him to be careful. Very careful.

And while he has no plans to run helter shelter trying to solve their riddles, Midas intends to heed their warnings.

He turns slightly and feels warm light falling on his skin.

From the amount of it that is streaming in from between the heavy drapes neither one of them had remembered to draw close, Midas can tell the morning is already fully here. No doubt the castle's servants had already begun clearing up all the evidence of yesterday's celebrations.

And no doubt Leo already had a list of 'urgent matters' at least half a foot long waiting for him in his study.

As expected, no one has come to knock on their doors today and no one will until they sent for them or in his case, until he came out himself.

He does not look at her again.

If he does, he will never be able to leave her side.

He tries to ease himself away from her without waking her.

He manages to free his arm from underneath her head but as she turns away, her hand brushes up against the early morning hardness of his c**k.

He inhales sharply, through his teeth.

The effect of that brief contact traveling through his entire body with startling heat.

Gods above, how in all the realms is he going to be able to stay away from her if all it took was a simple brush of her fingers to reduce him to one large mass of throbbing need? The truth is, he does not think he can.

Prophecy and warnings be damned.

If she came up to him, if she asked him to, he would make love to her a thousand times over.

But then he remembers what had happened last night before he left...or at least tried to.

The fight they'd had before he managed to lose himself in her perfection and the heat of the moment.

He remembers the way she had looked at him, those piercing blue eyes flashing with hate.

"...You and your Ryders destroyed my realm, murdered my people for no reason and you think sleeping with me is enough to make you forget?!"

No, the probability of her even wanting him again is in all actuality most likely closer to zero than it is to happening again.

Her asking him to...

He shakes he head as if to clear away the thought.

That is only wishful thinking on his part.

She is most likely even going to regret everything that had happened between them the moment she wakes up.

A tiny prick of pain, surprising and startling, blossoms in the region of Midas' chest but he snuffs it out, pushes it down, and buries it.

And then he lifts himself up and away from her.

He walks stark naked to where he had left his pants, stepping carefully over all the things he had knocked over in his haste to make her his. He pulls them on and reaches for his shirt.

Then he hears her stirring slightly behind him and because he cannot help it he turns.

Sees her hand reaching out, sees the way she frowns slightly in her sleep when she touches the side of the bed that is now empty.

He has managed to hurt her even in her dreams.

He wants to crawl back into that bed and hold her until the lines between her brows disappear completely but he does not dare.

Every time he touches her, every time he makes love to her, the tether bond would only grow stronger and he cannot afford for that to happen.

Because if it should eventually come down to it...if he has to eventually choose between her and protecting his people from whatever storm her presence in his realm is bringing, the dragon king knows the path he would take. And he does not need the tie between their souls getting stronger and making it any harder.

He is King of the 5th realm and protector of all its inhabitants before anything else.

And even if the bond tore whatever little is left of his heart to shreds, Midas' duty to his people will always come first.

Even before his own happiness.

And so he turns away from her, his hand lifting to turn the engraved knob on the door.

She calls out his name, her voice on the verge of consciousness, raspy and tiny as he closes the heavy doors behind him and it takes every ounce of his control not to turn around and climb back into that bed with her. It had been the most amazing night of his long... long life.

And yet...it could not happen again.

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