Wine at the World's End

King Zog of Dreamland tells himself that it ain't that bad being the king of a dead kingdom. Of course, he's a terrible liar (least when he's lying to himself), so as he sits in the tower, watching the sun set three days after everything changed, he reflects that it is indeed terrible, and it ain't going to get any better.

He's got one bottle of wine and two glasses, just for old time's sake. He's stopped looking at the crystal ball. The one that showed him the truth of what happened ten years ago. The one that can never reveal the truth behind the truth, of why Dagmar did what she did then, any more than she did recently. He's stopped looking at the smirk on her face, or the horror in Bean's eyes when she sees her mother turn to stone. He's stopped looking at the horror in his own, and the way he holds Bean back rather than let her take her mother's hand as the stone consumes her body. He didn't know if it would affect her then, he was just following a father's instinct. To keep one's child safe, even as they both lose the light of their life.

He takes a sip of the wine as he looks out over his dead kingdom. He's toyed with putting something in the wine many times. To let his life end with something bitter on his tongue. The good kind of bitter, not the bitterness that's consuming every sense in his body apart from taste. Or he could just jump off the walls of the castle. He's sent many an idiot plunging down from the throne room's trap door, he figures that if this is the end of all things, he might as well find out what it's like.

But he doesn't do it. Partly because it would be too demeaning an end. Partly because he's holding out to hope that he sees Dagmar again so he wrap his arms around his ex-wife's throat and finish the job. And partly, mostly, because Bean's still out there, and he misses yelling at her. And scolding her. And being annoyed with her. And everything else a father is supposed to do, including the mushy stuff of being proud and loving.

There's also a knock on the door, so if he's going to bring the reign of King Zog of Dreamland to an end, he doesn't want to have any witnesses. His rule's ended in humiliation, he doesn't want anyone to see his life end in the same way

"Come in," he grunts.

The door opens and in walks Mop Girl.

"What took you so long?"

She silently walks in, and puts down a plate of cheese, crackers, and grapes on the table in the centre of the tower. Zog walks over, looking down at Sorcerio's servant.

"Well, sit down," he grunts, taking a seat himself. "You're probably hungry too."

Still in silence, Mop Girl sits down. Her hair hides her eyes, but they're pointed downwards anyway.

"Nice thing about being two of the only people left in Dreamland," Zog says, taking a piece of cheese and popping it in his mouth. "No chance of running out of food or drink."

Mop Girl says nothing.

"Quiet one ain't ya? Well, whatever. Spent sixteen years with a girl who wouldn't shut up, figure some peace and quiet are what I'm owed."

Mop Girl says nothing and takes a grape. Whether out of fear or loyalty (probably fear, Zog reflects), she's here for her king, and that includes eating with him.

He hasn't found anyone else so far. Not his no good son, not his second wife, not anyone who might have been remotely useful (and in Dreamland, that's a percentage of a percentage of the population). Only Sorcerio's ever-silent servant. The one who's used her mop to clean up everything from spilt wine to spilt blood. If that wizard was good for anything, Zog figures that maybe he'd have made a spell to end her muteness, but of course, that's assuming that Sorcerio really was good for anything other than wasting a decade for an elixir of life that in the end, Bean managed to find. To use on her mother instead of that elf that wasn't really an elf.

Zog takes another sip of wine. Bean. He can't stop thinking about her. All the things he said, all the things she said, all the things that neither of them said. Heck, even that talking cat of hers would be welcome.

"So," Zog says. "When we're done here, what you say we hit the streets or something? Or, do, whatever it is that fathers and daughters do?"

Mop Girl looks up at him.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, I ain't your dad, and I don't think you're my daughter…course, can't be sure, because, heh, Dagmar and Oona weren't the first or last, but…"

He trails off. The poor girl's trembling.

"Oh, er, sorry. I mean, probably miss your ma and pa as well."

The girl shakes her head.

"Oh. That bad huh?"

The girl nods her head.

"Well, least you're free of them eh? I mean, least my Tiabeanie's happy…away from her dad…with her mum…who's turned over ten-thousand people into stone…"

Mop Girl looks up at him. Behind her hair, behind her eyes, Zog can see an emotion that he's all too familiar with. The need to cry and scream at the same time.

"Y'know what," Zog says, picking a handful of grapes and shovelling them into his mouth. "When this is over, and I get my kingdom back, I'm going to promote you to…ah, Wine Girl. How's that sound Wine Girl?"

She doesn't say anything.

"Seriously, do you have a name?"

She nods.

"And you never told Sorcerio what it was?"

She shrugs.

"Eh, well, guess you could write it down and…um…"

She chuckles, and Zog understands immediately – poor thing can't write.

"Well, guess I could guess it. I mean, there's what, only a few thousand names in the English language?"

She shrugs again and Zog sighs. If Bean were here, she'd tell him that there were far more words than that, and such a game was a waste of her time, and that she was going drinking. But this little twerp isn't Bean. And after a few days, he's already finding the silence unbearable.

He grunts, and turns his chair back round to see the setting sun. "Go on kid, take it. It's all yours."

He doesn't give her a second glance. Not even as he hears her walk up to him (if she's planning on stabbing him in the back, he's past caring). Not as she gingerly gives him a pat on the shoulder – not an action that any lice-bitten commoner would have the balls to do normally, but hey, different times and different plumbing. And he doesn't even give her a glance as she takes up the plate and walks out of the tower, leaving Zog alone in the silence. No birds, no mermaids, no anything. Nothing but the silence. He's in a land of dreams turned into a nightmare, and he can't wake up from it.

Where are you Bean? He wonders. Where's my special little girl?

Bean isn't little anymore, he tells himself. And if the last few months have taught him anything, it's that despite her drinking, and floozing, and inability to hold a job, or do anything other than make his life a living hell, it's that she can look after herself. And even if her mother's back in her life, he can only hope that won't change. Least not the taking care of herself part. The drinking and the smooching though…

Heck, he misses even that.

And no matter how much wine he drinks, he can't forget it. Not his Tiabeanie.

Not his little girl.

A/N

So, I actually made a mistake here with making Mop Girl mute. As in, when I wrote it, my recollection was that why she does pop up every so often in the background, she never actually speaks. However, checking the wiki, turns out she has a single line in season 1, namely "he's dead." Um...yay for character development? Anyway, stuck with her being mute, but I admit that isn't technically canon compliant (and technically she's unlikely not to be cased in stone, and Derek would have arguably made for a better discussion with Zog), but I wanted it to be more one-sided.

And yes, fun fact, if you turn on the subtitles, "Mop Girl" is written in capitals. As in, it's her actual name/title. Go figure.