ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ [ᴶᵃˢᵒⁿ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ]

αα.

αα. Hapephobia - Fear of touch

(a/n: sorry I hadn't updated in so long; I fell out of writing for a hot minute, but now I'm back on the horse so expect more Aza)

Aza was brought back to reality when Gleeson trotted out of the room to stand guard outside. It was for the best; they wouldn't get anywhere diplomatically with the satyr continuously threatening Midas and Lit, and she doubted the royalty would tolerate him for much longer.

Once the satyr was gone, Piper plastered on a fake smile and turned back to King Midas, hoping to continue on a peaceful path. Aza hoped she would ask him questions on his patron more, seeing as her charmspeak would be most likely to draw answers from him.

"So... you don't know how you got here?"

Midas frowned, looking at Lit. "Oh, well, yes. Sort of," he said off-handedly, dark brows furrowing as he tried to remember. "Why did we pick Omaha, again? I know it wasn't the weather."

"The oracle," Lit said simply. Midas nodded, eyes brightening. "Yes! I was told there was an oracle in Omaha. Apparently I was mistaken. But this is a rather nice house, isn't it? Lit - it's short for Lityerses, by the way - horrible name, but his mother insisted - Lit has plenty of wide-open space to practice his swordplay. He has quite a reputation for that. They called him the Reaper of Men back in the old days."

"Lovely," Aza muttered under her breath - it certainty wasn't a very kind nickname, nor one that made Aza feel confident about their chances of getting out of the solid-gold mansion without a scuffle. Lit smiled - or, Aza assumed he tried to smile, but it came out as more of a cruel sneer, like he was analyzing his future prey.

"So," Jason begun after an awkward silence. "All this gold-"

Instantly, Midas perked up. The old man sat up straighter, his eyes twinkling brightly, making him look years younger. "Are you here for gold, my boy? Please, take a brochure!" He motioned over towards the coffee table, where a small pile of brochures sat. "Um, you sell gold?"

Aza rolled her eyes; clearly this boy needed some lessons on mythology from Annabeth. Midas waved his hand in the air and his eyes darkened, almost like he was offended. "No, I make gold. It is the wisest investment, isn't it? Governments fall. The dead rise. Giants attack Olympus. But gold retains its value."

Giants attack Olympus? That's not exactly the most comforting notion, Aza thought. It sounded like Midas wasn't talking about the past Gigantomachy; the King had a voice laced with foreboding. An uncomfortable silence settled over the room, and Leo fidgeted uncomfortably before blurting, "I've seen that commercial."

The King waved his hand in the air dismissively with a roll of his eyes. "Oh, don't be fooled by cheap imitators! I assure you, I can beat any price for a serious Investor. I can make a wide assortment of gold items at a moment's notice."

Aza rolled her eyes - clearly Midas hadn't learned his lesson, and there was nothing more dangerous than a stubbornly wrong king.

"But you accidentally turned your own daughter to gold," Piper rebutted, a small frown scrunching her perfect features. "And you realized how greedy you'd been. So you repented."

"Repented!" Midas looked offended, and he exchanged a shocked glance with Lit. The man's eyes flashed dangerously, and something pulled at the pits of Aza's stomach.

"You see, son," Midas addressed Lit, but still maintained a steady and intense eye contact with Piper. "You're away for a few thousand years, and the story gets twisted all around. My dear girl," his voice softened slightly to a rumbling purr. "did those stories ever say I'd lost my magic touch?"