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Mickey leaned back on his work bench, breathing deeply in an attempt to clear his mind. Inspiration wasn’t coming to him, and he ran his sweaty hands down his face. He wanted to create something special and unique for Minnie, but every idea hadn’t seemed worthy of her. He wanted to do more than make her happy with this gift – he wanted to express his feelings with it. But what would do the job? Not a vase, not a crown, not a necklace, nothing, nothing was good enough! He groaned, and then opened his eyes. “Say, Axelia, ya wouldn’t happen ta have any ideas, would ya?”

Axelia stood over him, holding up a white cloth in order to wipe down his perspiring face. “The-The-The-Goddess-Would-Enjoy-Anything-You-Made.”

“Aw, but that’s the point!” He angrily snatched the cloth from her, rubbing his face. “I don’t want her ta just ‘enjoy’ it! It’s gotta say how much she means ta me! It can’t be like the other stuff I’ve made for her! It’s gotta be different… gotta be special!” But just what could express that? He didn’t have a clue. He had no inspiration, no idea, no muse –

He paused in mid-rub. No muse… No, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. There were a certain glass of goddesses he had only heard rumors about. Not many others saw them either, except in cases of grand artistry as this. And when they did appear, even mortals could see them! But then they were rumors, and Mickey was unsure. Would they help him out if he called? So many of the other gods and goddesses preferred to pretend he didn’t exist at all. He sighed, ultimately deciding desperate times called for desperate measures.

He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. “All right, Muses.” He said out loud, throwing caution to the wind. “If ya can hear me, I’d really like some help right about now. There’s a girl I’m just crazy over, and I wanna make her somethin’ unique-like. She deserves the best. So if ya got any ideas, I wanna hear ‘em… please. If ya don’t mind.”

The only sounds in the cave were the crackle of fire and the occasional whir and click of his servants. Nothing else. Mickey exhaled deeply, leaning back again. “Guess that’s a no.”

“Guess again, honey.”

Mickey’s eyes flew open, and he was looking right above at a beautiful dark woman with tall, round hair who was smiling mirthfully at him. His own reaction wasn’t as dignified as he wished it could have been, as he yelped in surprise and fell off the bench. He wasn’t used to many visitors – he was definitely not used to visitors suddenly in his face. As he gathered himself and crawled back on the bench, he was relieved to see that the woman wasn’t angry. In fact, none of them were – there were five young ladies now standing behind his each, each one grinning.

“… Suppose ya might be the muses?” He asked after a moment, sitting on the edge of his bench.

“That we are, Mickey-boy.” The tall one spoke, and she waved her hands around, showing off her sisters. “We heard your cry and came running. Honestly, we couldn’t resist. We know the ups and downs of your problem, and we’re here to make it smooth.”

Mickey noticed that his golden girls had become frozen in their movements. Did they all simultaneously need repairs, or was this part of the muses’ power? “Uh… ya know all about it?”

“Ladies.” The leader snapped her fingers.

The woman with a ponytail whipped out a scroll, tossing her hair aside. “I am Clio, the muse of history. And I’ve got it all here, from when she first stepped into this swanky home of yours right up to this prayer. Not bad, for your first try.”

“Thalia, muse of comedy, reporting for duty!” The shortest and roundest of the five sat beside Mickey, making him bounce up the bench a bit in response to her size. “It’s hilarious it’s taken you this long to realize your feelings!”

Mickey huffed, cheeks started to redden. “Wasn’t that long…”

The frizzy-haired goddess made elaborate moves as she stepped in front of the bench, hips swaying back and forth as her arms helped express her words. “I am Terpsichore, muse of dance, and every romance is a dance. The question here is who’s leading?”

“It’s a tragedy!” The final goddess, the one long curly hair bending past most of her body, dramatically threw her head back, jetting herself out. “That’s me, by the way, Melpomene, muse of tragedy, and it’s a crying shame you haven’t wised up.”

“And I,” The leader announced, now joining the rest in front of Mickey, “am Calliope, the muse of epic poetry. Every piece of poetry needs a beginning, a middle and an end, but you’ve only got two out of three. You can’t make anything because you can’t focus on the end.”

“The end?” Mickey repeated, dumbfounded. “Well, gosh, I suppose I’ll finish the project like I do everything else… paintin’ on the extra colors and setting it aside ta dry and cool…”

“Wrong end, as future children will say to their screens.” Clio sat on Mickey’s other side, ignoring his confusion. “We don’t mean the end of the gift making. We mean the end of the gift giving. You’re not finding inspiration for your creation because you’re holding back!”

“Hey, I’m doing my best!” Mickey crossed his arms, getting defensive over his efforts. “I really want her ta like it, I ain’t holdin’ anything back!”

“What you want,” Terpsichore wagged a finger in front of his face. “Is to express your feelings into this piece. But you’re not putting all of them in there. And you want to know what that is?”

“… Yer gunna tell me anyways.” Mickey mumbled, something unpleasant beating in his chest.

All five of the goddesses struck a pose, and then raised their arms out, sticking one leg out, speaking in unison.

“Oh mighty Hephaestus, your heart is sweet,
And that girl’s just adding fire to your heat!
This gift should say I love you, and we get that,
But there’s one thing you’re not saying, real old hat!
Being in love is one amazing thing, we say
But what about being loved in return, if we may?
You’re saying you want her, but don’t expect it back,
Ignoring the whole wooden horse because of one tack!
You gotta love yourself, little mouse man! We already do!
If you’re gunna make this, you gotta believe your love is true!”

Mickey’s cheeks were now crimson, and he was refusing to look the ladies in the eyes. They had a point – they had THE point, which he couldn’t ignore. “… Look, in case ya hadn’t noticed, she’s the goddess of love and beauty. Y’know, bee-uu-tee? Someone like her deserves… someone all there.” He looked down at his deformed leg, cursing it now more than ever. “Not a reject.”

“Mercy!” Thalia pressed a hand to her forehead. “Will you listen to this boy? He acts like he’s nothin’ but the leg!”

“No, it’s worse than that.” Melpomene tsked, shaking her head back and forth. “Instead of getting L-O-V-E, he’s afraid of getting P-I-T-Y.”

Now Mickey stopped arguing. He curled up, fingers digging into his arms. That would have been the worst – for someone to be with him in spite of the leg, not accepting it as part of who he was. He longed to be treated as normal, not as ‘you poor thing’, not as ‘well you’re normal EXCEPT for that’. He knew his leg couldn’t be ignored, but wasn’t he allowed to live on with it? That he could exist outside of his disability? And oh did he want Minnie to be that one, to be the one who could care for him and love everything about him, and not see anything wrong with him.

“It’s an epic battle in your mind.” Calliope said gently, touching Mickey’s chin and forcing his head up. “On the one hand, you think she should get someone better. On the other hand, you shouldn’t have to be treated as anything different.”

Mickey’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and his voice came out in a frightened whisper. “… What should I do?”

Calliope smiled, and kissed his forehead – he saw a dazzle of colors, and he blinked hard, each one creating a new splash of light and dark he had never seen before. The muses and his home were splashed in textures and layers he never dreamed of, and the girls held their hands up high. “TRUST!” and in that moment he knew the color he was looking at – sea foam.

“You need to put your faith in another girl
Not one of us, but in that darling little pearl!
The lady who washed ashore in a shell, that’s who!
And would it kill you to like yourself, too?
Is this the kind of girl who would thinks ‘in spite’?
Or is she someone true to her own light?
Whether it turns into happily ever after,
Or the end of this whole sad chapter,
You gotta take that chance, gotta her hear out,
Because that’s what love is really all about!”

Mickey then opened his eyes, and saw that he hadn’t moved from when he first leaned back. His mechanical servants were moving, and there was no one else in the cave. Mickey looked around, but then couldn’t remember who or what he was looking for. His eyes fell upon his work station, and he smiled. “Axelia! Bring me some sea shells, I got work ta do!” He ordered the other golden workers to bring him pen and paper so he could make the blueprint of this gift, knowing exactly what he had to do. His good foot tapped to a beat he couldn’t recall.

~*~

The small collection of gods – mostly male – began to quiet down as Ares took the stage, banging hard on the armor on his chest in order to get attention. Those that weren’t watching him watched the long, gnarled mirror that stood beside him, the framed made out of rusty battle equipment. Ares – chosen name Pete – cleared his throat, ready to get this army under control. “All righty, folks, we all know why we’re here… big daddy Zeus told Aphrodite she had ta pick a husband, and we didn’t have a problem with that, right? Coulda been anyone of us.”

Shouts of agreement came back at him, though Pete mused to himself they were all wrong. Clearly Aphrodite was meant for him, but it was cute that they thought they had a chance. Still, it was best to make them think they were all together on this. “Dat’s right! We all deserved her! But then… she goes and chooses Hephaestus!” He spat the name as if it was dirt on his tongue, and the shouts grew louder, including the stamping of feet and clashing of spears to shields. “Yeah! What’s he got dat we don’t got? Why, he’s got LESS than we got! Now I went and done thought about it… and there’s only one reason she’d be with that limpy loony!”

“Because she loves him?”

“Dat's right, he-” He stopped, realizing not only was the voice disagreeing with him, but said voice was also female. He looked at the crowd, and there among the now startled men was demigoddess Persephone, chosen name Daisy. She was smirking, a yellow carnation blooming atop her head. Pete was at a loss for words for a good long while. “… What’re you doin’ here?”

“Last I checked, I was allowed on Mount Olympus anytime I pleased.” Daisy picked the carnation off, and started plucking the petals, though a new one was already growing in its place. “And I pleased now. So, what were you saying?”

Pete swallowed a lump in his throat, but then continued forward, determined to be in the right. “… I was saying, that fella probably kidnapped her! And keeps forcin’ her ta come back!”

“Like Donald ‘kidnapped’ me?” Daisy interrupted again, greatly amused at how most of the men were making obvious efforts not to look her way. “I’m always surprised when I hear that story. Want to tell it again, Petey?”

Pete was quiet again, now feeling angry and disheveled. How dare this woman – not even a full goddess! – mock his conquest? Aphrodite couldn’t possibly love that pathetic Hephaestus, it didn’t make sense. She belonged with a strong, full man like him! “Look, are ya gunna let me talk, or ya gunna keep squawkin’?”

“No, no, I promise I’ll be good.” Daisy smiled thinly, the flower in her hands now bare. “Especially now that I’ve see you’ve got your Viewing Mirror set up. I can’t wait to see what you’re doing with it.”

Never a bright one, Pete took this as an actual compliment, and puffed his chest out. “Dat’s right! Every God and Goddess gets a Viewin’ Mirror, so we can watch anythin’ on the mortal plane we want! Past and present! And I brought mine out so I can show all of ya the horrible things that Hephaestus is doin’ to our poor lil’ Aphrodite!”

Daisy couldn’t help herself. “Last interruption, I swear.” She rolled the stem of the plant in her fingers. “But have you ever used that to watch them before right this moment?”

Pete blinked, as the thought had never occurred to him. Why would it? “A’course not. Why?”

“Nooo reason.” Daisy grinned. “Go right ahead.”

Satisfied, Pete slapped the back of the mirror, and it’s reflection changed to fog. “Now, Viewin’ Mirror, let’s all see what that’s guy been doin’ with her!”

A low hush fell over the crowd as the mirror’s image changed. Within seconds, they could see the interior of Hephaestus’ dark, ugly cave. It was lit by enough torches so they could see the two figures on the floor.

“Are you sure I wasn’t interrupting anything?” Minnie asked sweetly, plucking another grape off of the vine and popping it into Mickey’s mouth.

“Nope. Not a thing.” Mickey replied, chewing as he lay in Minnie’s lap, hands folded on his lap. “Can’t think of a single thing I was supposed ta do.”

“You better not be ly~ing.” She said the last word in a sing-song voice, playfully poking Mickey’s nose.

“Gee, I can’t think about it on an empty stomach.” Mickey opened his mouth and was rewarded with another grape, and Minnie giggled, giving him a little kiss on the nose.

The crowd of gods was still silent, and immobile, save for Daisy, who was trembling with repressed laughter. Pete was shaking for a different reason. “… This thing’s on the fritz!” He decided, and he banged on the back. “Come on, ya lousy piece of junk! Show us where she’s had ta obey his orders!”

The mirror complied, and the fogged mirror changed. Now it was in the long hall of the cave, and Mickey was propped on an unusual device – it looked like a chair that was outfitted with large wire circles. “Check it out! I made it myself.” He said proudly, sitting in it. “I call it a ChairWheel! Look what I can do!” He grabbed the wheels, and pushed himself forward – the chair moved, and Minnie clapped with delight.

“Now you can go anywhere!” Minnie applauded with joy. “Oh, Mickey, you’re so clever!”

“Aw, look at this!’ Mickey began to pick up speed, riding back and forth up and down the long hall. When he was fast enough, he lurched backwards, and balanced the entire chair on the wheels, letting his feet point at the air. Then he spun around on one wheel, finishing with a heavy ‘oomph!’ safely on the ground.

Minnie squealed with delight, in his lap almost immediately and covering his face in kisses. “That was amazing! Can you do it again? Oooh, Mickey, you’re so smart!”

At this point Daisy willed a small sapling of a tree to grow beside her, so she had something to lean on while she convulsed with quiet laughter. The gods began to mumble within the crowd, some of them trying to scoot away from this disaster. Pete, who was more stubborn than health should allow, now smacked the back of the mirror so hard it was a wonder it didn’t break. “You hunk of junk! Third time had better be the charm or else you’re the one getting years of bad luck! Now show us Hephaestus bein’ mean and rotten ta her!”

The mirror complied as best it could. Mickey was now hard at work, pounding his hammer against a newly made lightning bolt. He was doing everything in his power to ignore Minnie, who was sitting beside him, arms around his neck, fondly stroking his ear. “Please, Mickey, can’t we play just a little bit…?”

“Not now.” Mickey kept his eyes on his work, cheeks deeply red but his determination solid. “I gotta make Zeus his bolts before sundown, or else I’ll never hear the end of it. Anything else has gotta wait.”

“Oh, you’re mean and rotten.” Minnie whined, kissing Mickey’s neck in another attempt to win him over. “All I want is one little kiss…”

The mirror didn’t show Mickey’s reply of “Because one kiss leads ta a hundred more”, because Pete had smashed it with a closed fist. He didn’t say a word, and no one dared to speak to him. The only evidence anything had happened was Daisy’s roaring laughter.