Monky Business

A Party on Avalon story
by Warpmind de InzanE


      The cast of Gargoyles is the legal property of Disney and Buena Vista. All hail Buena Vista
and Disney.
      The Party on Avalon was, according to my little grey cells (which are famed for their erring
ways), originally an idea spawned by Christine Morgan, and then wrought as a Writer's Challenge
in Avalon Mists (and maybe the longest-running, too).
     The aware reader might already have realized I have previously written one Party on
Avalon story; only recently did I come up with the idea for a new one. In my first PoA fic,
Jason Evermore, a character of mine, was the key figure. This time, I got the brilliant (at the
time) idea of bringing in an internationally famous Norwegian ghost: The Monk of Nidaros.
      For those of you who are familiar with him, well, go on to the story. For those of you who
have never heard of him before, he's a ghost claimed to wander endlessly around in the
Cathedral of Nidaros. His origin is unknown... but maybe this will shed some light on his
      In this fic there will be mentioned characters and events more accurately described
in previous works of other authors, all according to the Party on Avalon challenge.


      The party was running along well, and Oberon watched everything contentedly.
      Aside from a few mishaps, like Anansi becoming... somewhat tied up after he tried to hit
on the bartender, and Eros had had a few problems... but those inconveniences were negligible.
      Titania walked up beside him and took his arm. "My Lord, someone wishes to speak with you."
      Oberon turned, facing someone whose identity was completely concealed by a clergial robe
of some sort.
      "Yes? And who are you?"
      The figure removed the hood, revealing a handsome face underneath blonde hair. A pair
of slightly pointed ears were visible protruding from the man's golden mane.
      "I am known as The Monk, Lord Oberon, and I believe this is where I belong."
      "Oh? Then how come I cannot recall having seen you before?"
      "Ah, now that story is a fairly long one. I have no knowledge of my father, though I believe
he may have been one of your kin. My mother was a young lady living in the Norwegian city of
Nidaros. Somehow, she came to be with child, and was forced to give up her newborn son to
the Cathedral that had just been built. After all, in those days, young unwed mothers didn't have
the opportunities they benefit from in the mortal world today."
      Oberon clutched Titania's arm tighter, sensing where this might be headed.
      "So what you are saying is that you are a halfling, and you have lived in a church for..."
      "No, Lord Oberon. Not a church. A cathedral. Early on, I discovered secret passages, hidden
rooms that had been built into the walls, and made myself a home there. Over the centuries, people
forgot the story about the boy born out of wedlock, who was sent to the cathedral as a newborn...
but I never forgot. As time went by, I started to notice how I ceased to age, and how I
suddenly developed uncommon skills, like levitation, healing powers, controlling weather by whim,
even walking through solid stone walls when the need appeared... and ultimately, I felt something
call me to this isle."
      Oberon cleared his throat thoughtfully as Titania turned his head toward herself.
      "So, Mylord, do you think we can find this lad's father?"
      Oberon nodded, his mind many miles and many years away...

      How lovely she looked in the evening. A fair lady, strong-willed and proud... quite a challenge for
his seductive abilities. More than half of the Interregnum was done for, but he was becoming steadily
impatient... maybe a good roll in the hay could ease his frustrations? More than a week he had
attempted to lure her abed, but so far his failure was evident. Tonight, however, when the lunar
conjunction was at its peak... He rose from his hideout in the bushes and snuck up behind her.
      "Hello. I could hear you approach."
      "My pardon, milady, but you were such a beautiful sight, I had to step forth."
      He sat down beside her, focusing all of his concentration on bending her will, determined to seduce
her. It seemed to work, her eyes were hazy, and her voice hoarse...
      "Did you want anything... special?"
      "As a matter of fact... yes."
      At last it worked. Few minutes later, under the starlight, he would muse that there was truth in the
rumor about the hot-blooded Scandinavian women. Hours later, she wiggled into his arm and started
snoring in an almost incessantly cute manner. He drifted off to sleep beside her.
      It felt like he had slept for mere minutes, but the angle of the moon stated differently... not that it
was easy to see the moon with Oberon's furious gaze in his eyes like that.
      "You forgot the Decree? The members of the third race are FORBIDDEN to fornicate with mortals.
Remember what problems Merlin caused almost a thousand years ago. I don't want another one like him!"
      "L... L... Lord Oberon... how delightful to see you..."
      "Your lies are worse than your sense of obedience, Seducus. Be glad I did not catch you in the act, or
I would have destroyed you both. As it is, I'll let you both live... but you shall remain trapped beneath the
altar of this cathedral here, until the day of the Gathering. And such shall be your punishment, that when
people seek this altar for help, you will mend their wounds, heal their illnesses and releive their pain. Now
aid from under altar stone, and rest for many years, until we gather on Avalon, you shall wipe the tears!"
      Seducus shrieked soundlessly, fading, becoming a bolt of pure energy, pummeling into the cathedral.
Oberon stood and watched, then knelt by the young woman and touched her forehead.
      "Rest now, mortal, and forget what happened tonight... t'was through no fault of yours, and the one
to blame will never bother you again."
      Morning came, and the girl awoke amidst the trees, unable to recall anything from the night before.
She had a vague feeling that something had happened, but she could not recall precisely what.
      Several weeks later, she knew something was wrong, when she had not bled for months... and shortly
afterwards, it became evident. The scandal was a fact.

      Oberon shook his head, returning to the present.
      "So she was with child at the time... I had no knowledge..."
      Titania looked up at her husband expectantly.
      "So, I'm not the only one of us who has flirted around? Tsk, tsk, and considering it was your own decree..."
      "What? No, I am not his father. However, there is a slight irony here, I believe. For if my memory serves,
this young lad's father is Seducus, and while the Monk here was hiding in the cathedral, Seducus was
TRAPPED in it."
      The monk was just standing there, scratching his golden mane.
      "Really? Indeed, that would make some sense, I always felt strengthened when walking near the altar... is
that where he was?"
      "Yes. Now, if you walk through that door and to the left, I believe your father is sitting near the bar. Just
ask the bartender... She should be able to identify Seducus for you. Provided, of course, she has finished her
business with Puck's mortal form."
      Titania grinned.
      "So, mylord, you are still displeased with Rhiannon's decision?"
      "Quite so. Puck was banished from Avalon, and Rhiannon found a way to bend that decree."
      Titania smiled enigmatically.
      "As all our children bend the laws, why should our fosterlings not?"
      Oberon exhaled slowly, painfully, before dismissing the Monk and Titania.
      "Go, both of you. Find Seducus, and let him see his offspring."
      Titania and the Monk hurried toward the bar.
      "Lady Titania, is he always thus?"
      "Yes, I'm afraid so. But don't quote me on that."

      He stood by the bar, about to blow out a Pugsley, when Titania approached.
      "Greetings, my queen. I am glad to be free of that earthly prison, at last!
     Did you bring your guest to meet me?"
      "Oh, I would never dare do that, considering your special talents. No, this is one I believe you're familiar
with more than I."
      "How so?"
      The Monk lowered his hood, gazing at Seducus.
      "A long time ago... in Nidaros?"
      Seducus looked at the youngster's features, then dropped his drink.
     Unfortunately, it was still on fire, and thoroughly drenched his pants. The Monk calmly raised a hand and
waved the flames away.
      "Really... you should be more careful with what you drink, father."
      "I... yes... but..."
      Titania smiled and stepped backwards.
      "I believe the two of you have much to catch up on, so I'll leave you to it. We shall speak again."
      Seducus and the Monk stood there, staring at each other, not knowing where to start for a long time.
      "Father, what had you done to be trapped in the altar for all those years?"
      Seducus scratched his neck.
      "Well, frankly, I did your mother. Unfortunately, Oberon had ordered that the members of the Third
Race were not to impregnate humans, for some reason he never told the rest of us."
      "Oh. Well, it seems I'm finally where my father was raised... would you mind showing me your old
stomping grounds?"
      Seducus grinned.
      "Not at all, son. Let's see... I could start by showing you the Hollow Hill. I used to go there all the time,
before Merlin brought those iron armors there. But I hear those are gone now, as well as King Arthur..."
      "An excellent idea, father."

      Titania strode in, Oberon was resting his head in his hands.
      "Seducus has met his son. I left them so that they could speak in private. Is something wrong, Milord?"
      Oberon looked up at her, then returned his gaze to the floor.
      "Wrong? Maybe. Dangerous? Maybe. Terrifying? Absolutely."
      "What? What is terrifying?"
      "The Prophecy... the Prophecy of the Three!"
      "I'm not familiar with that one."
      Oberon looked up again, leaning backwards.
      "But of course. It was meant for the Ruler of Avalon's eyes only, and speaks of three halflings, three of
mixed blood. The precise wording is like this: Half-fey three, Mage, Cleric and Warrior, shall meet on
ancient ground. The unexpected shall revolt against Avalon, and the unlikely shall emerge victorious
when the Warrior of Light comes to aid."
      Titania gasped. "Any clue as to when this will happen?"
      "None. But I fear our time is running short... we both already know who the three are."
      "Really? Let me see: the Mage, now that would be Merlin. The Cleric, that is probably the Monk, but who
is the Warrior?"
      Oberon just looked at her as she started to realize...
      "And the Warrior is... my daughter. Oh, no! What have I done?"
      "You could not know. Besides, who should believe that one of mixed blood should become a mere warrior?
Much less the child of Queen Titania? Let us hope that Merlin decides to rest for a long while yet."
      "But... if Arthur finds him?"
      "Then... we shall have to deal with that event if and when it happens. Right now, we should attend the party."
      "Naturally, Mylord."
      The King and Queen of the Third Race walked regally, albeit glumly out to the festivities. From inside, the
Weird Sisters watched them go, a sinister smile slowly creeping upward...