A few of the females cast me a pitying glance, but the males seem to be the most curious as they trail after us. I find it very disquieting, like they’re waiting to see if there is any possibility of nabbing a soft, squishy human. Orel bristles, his chitin chiming angrily as he shoots them glares from over his shoulder. The venomous look seems to do the job because they scatter. I watch the hasty departure of the smaller males with a smug smile.
Orel chuckles and I glance to find him looking down at me, the pretty blue sparkles lighting up his dark eyes and dancing with pleasure. I lean into his chest and grin up at him. I have to give props where they’re due.
“You’re such a badass,” I chortle gleefully.
His head tilts in confusion, his antenna moving.
I giggle. For a big burly guy among his hive, he has the cutest confounded look. “That is to say, you are very impressive.”
A beautiful smile lights up his face, and he dips his face to brush his nose against mine. “I am glad you think I am so very… badass,” he whispers, the intimate brush of his breath on my skin making it prickle with awareness.
A low rumble echoes in his chest and he groans. With a humorless laugh, he shakes his head. “You can easily make me forget myself.”
“Even though I’m human?” I inquire, my brows winging up.
He huffs. “Human or pixie… It doesn’t matter.”
I smile to myself and pillow my head against his chest. He really is very sweet. He would be the perfect boyfriend, if only…
The nest we eventually arrive at a short time later resembles the one belonging to my hive except it’s smaller and splashed with vibrant colors, like a wasps’ nest where colorful tissue paper had been harvested and incorporated into the design. Orel doesn’t touch down, but rather he hovers in the air as he lets out a long, musical whistle. I turn my head to give a confused look. What’s that all about? He doesn’t return my glance but is staring down attentively toward the nest. I direct my attention that way as well.
Minutes later, a pixie pops up from the entrance, her feet touching down on her balcony. As tall as Orel, she is entirely different in appearance. Though she is slim without much in the way of curves, she’s beautiful, a purple light flaring from her center, giving her skin a lavender cast. Even her hair is a deep purple, unlike the guys’ silvery-white tresses. Unlike the silken loincloths the males wear, she wears a beautiful arrangement of long silk scarves that fall over her body gracefully. I’m pretty envious of the entire look that she pulls off so effortlessly. Although my chest is average, I have altogether too much ass to wear a network of draping scarves. Her black eyes focus on me and light up with tiny purple sparks as she claps her hands and squeals.
“Oh, Orel! Your mate is too adorable! So tiny!” She bounces in place, her large purple wings, much wider than the long, slender double wings of my guys, fanning around her. She doesn’t buzz or chime. Her light sparks with her happiness like theirs do, however, so I can see some vague species resemblance. That and the antenna that twitches at the top of her brow. “Please, do perch for a moment and allow your queen to get comfortable.”
Orel nods his head gratefully and drops down to her balcony. I am set gently on my feet but barely get a breath in before I am examined by the female circling me who must be Fini.
“No wings!” she exclaims in surprise. Before I can respond to the observation or even begin to feel insulted, she changes gears and gives me a mischievous look. “That must be quite handy for keeping your hive close at hand. I can imagine they are enjoying carrying their queen about,” she confides with amusement.
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, uncertain how to respond but she giggles and wraps an arm around me.
“We are going to be such friends!” she declares. “I do love your hive like the brothers I never had… I had only sisters, you see, and they are ever so dull, even as younglings. Since you are queen to my brothers, I know that we will be as sisters. I am so excited to gain a sister who is at least somewhat reasonable.”
“I hear you make clothing…” I say, desperate to veer the conversation away from my relationship with my hive. Or, rather, the lack of one.
She brightens immediately. “That I do! I am one of the best clothiers for the troll queen and her royal court. Do you have an interest in textiles?”
I nod my head, grateful for a shared interest. “I am. I have a very lucrative business making dresses of various designs from periods of history.”
Her mouth rounds in delight as she turns and clasps my hands eagerly. “How fun! My designs are considered at times a bit impractical, so much that the textile gathering rarely allows me to accompany them in bringing my designs to the troll queen. But between you and me, the queen loves them so.” She suddenly hops up and down, her wings brushing me delicately. “Oh, I know! You and I can work together and make designs so fabulous that the gathering will have no choice but to include them. They are just awful,” she confides in a whisper that’s far too loud to even be considered quiet.
My eyes slide over to Orel to find him smirking at me, obviously amused by how overwhelmed I am. He inclines his head toward the female who stops talking long enough to giggle at the gesture.
“I must leave to attend my rounds. Fini…”
“Oh, go away, your queen will be safe with me,” she says dismissively as she waves her hand in his direction and tugs me toward the entrance of her nest. Orel chuckles and leans forward to brush his knuckles against my cheek before Fini can pull me much further away.
“I will return for you shortly,” he whispers. With one last playful grin, his knees bend and he shoots back up into the sky, leaving me behind with a madwoman of a pixie.
“Come, let’s get inside and I will show you my silk samples!” she says in a far more subdued voice.
I nearly give myself whiplash as my head snaps around to gape at her. She laughs at my expression. Her voice is huskier than the trill she was using. She brushes a hand through her hair.
“Tip number one, if you don’t want to get bogged down in uncomfortable male drama, don’t give them any space to talk when it comes to making a decision. Pixie males are quite indecisive and so territorial when it comes to their queens that they need a bit of extra convincing to give us the slightest bit of space. It is a good deterrent for unwanted attention in general too,” she smirks.
“Dazi shuddered at the mention of your name,” I say, and she trills with laughter.
“That is outstanding! That one, I love playing with his head. He thinks he has everything worked out… It is good for them. Really good for all of them. They are all so somber these recent years.” She sighs, her lips drawing down thoughtfully. She shakes her head and perks up as she wraps her arms around me.
“All right, hang on tight! Here we go!”
She falls back, dropping into her nest so carelessly that a shriek rips out of me as we seem to plummet to the floor level. She snaps her wings open at last minute and laughs. “I guess wingless ones must be a bit nervous in temperament.”
“No,” I grit out between my clenched teeth. “But almost dropping your death can have a pretty bad effect on us.”
“Pah! You were in no danger of being anywhere near death! Now, onward to my studio.” With a rapid flap of her wings, we streak forward into the depths of her nest.
The studio itself is beautiful, awash in a ruby-colored silk on the walls and rolls of silk stacked everywhere of such fine quality, prints, and beadwork that I’m mesmerized by the sheer beauty of it. There’s even something like a dress form in one corner draped with pinned cloth.
“Your workspace is so small… How do you do bigger clothes for a troll queen?”
She snorts and laughs. “I fabricate them in our size, but our magic increases the size of the garment as well as its weight and density. It is quite complex. We certainly wouldn’t be able to craft, store, or carry complete garments to the trolls if we fashioned them in their size.”
I
purse my lips thoughtfully and nod. “Very practical.”
Wrapping her arm around my shoulder, she leads me further into her studio. “Let me show you what I am working on to present to the queen for her ball. From what I understand her eldest son is going to be crowned king with his father’s retirement and it is a big affair.”
My mouth drops open and my fingers itch in anticipation. I can’t wait to see, to touch! This is literally a costumer’s dream. Dressing royalty… for a ball! I can feel a wide smile on my face despite my best efforts to control my excitement.
My new friend isn’t fooled, however. She studies my eager expression seriously before breaking into a wide grin and giggling.
“That settles it. You will come every day and help me, yes? We will create something marvelous! I see a kindred soul in you with a real passion for fabric and design. We will work wonders.”
I grin and nod, no longer holding back. So what if some members of my hive were giving me the cold shoulder? This would keep me occupied with something I truly love until Dazi worked out how to help me.
If he can’t… Who knows? Maybe the troll queen will have some ideas!
10
Gwin
I fly among the foliage, in no hurry to return to my hive. For what purpose should I? Over the last few days, I’ve made myself scarce, volunteering for extra duties so that I am spared from seeing her as much as possible. I would return to the queens’ hive to see if I can be of any service to tend to their nest, but I know that they will remove me the moment they smell the pheromones of my queen on me, despite the fact that she hasn’t touched me in days.
Not that I have provided any opening for her other than those moments when I come across her and pull back my wings and arms, inviting her touch.
She, a zaabi of all things, barely deigns to look at me.
Instead, in the evenings I am left to watch from a distance as she gives her attention to Dazi and Orel alone. She is comfortable with them and reaches out to touch them frequently, though she hasn’t has shared herself with any of us since the mating flight as far as I know.
Occasionally, she asks Dazi if he has any news about getting her home, and I watch his face shutter so that she won’t detect the hurt that blasts through our bond. Foolish male still tries, as does Orel. They provide her the best food and surround her with her their touch and pheromones so that she doesn’t feel alone except when she leaves to sleep for the night.
I have a feeling if she offered, they would have followed eagerly for the privilege of draping themselves around her to continue taking their own comfort in her scent and touch. I would almost be relieved if they did, just to be spared the dark looks that they give us whenever she is not in our company, as if we are the problem.
They behave as if having a wingless, helpless queen who needs to be cared for doesn’t make us the point of ridicule among the colony more than we already are. Instead of fitting in and finding our place among our people, our hive is now even stranger.
Even knowing that, though, doesn’t make me yearn for her touch any less. Although I know she is zaabi, and even though I feel an instinctive recoil whenever I make myself recall that fact, it doesn’t stop the fire from burning within me whenever she is near. Despite my disappointment that I refuse to hide or be ashamed of, I would have forced myself to come to terms with her difference eventually if she had accepted me.
Knowing that, I cannot truly blame my hive brothers from clinging to what little they can have of her. It just emphasizes the loneliness I feel when I see them. I have a queen but at the same time I do not, and now I have lost even my place in the queens’ hive where I was once received with kindness and had some sort of purpose. Now I have no mate and no hope for younglings to fill our nest with joy. Aside from Shavish, who speaks little since the night of the mating flight, I am alone. At times, I feel resentful toward my hive brothers for accepting what little she offers.
I glance over as Shavish glides over to my side as we converge at our usual spot in our flight paths. His brow is lowered pensively in the same expression he’d worn since she refused us. I edge closer to him and he turns his attention toward me as I intentionally move into his space.
“What are we going to do?” I ask quietly.
My brother startles, his wings momentarily losing their rhythm, causing him to drop slightly from the air before he regains control and returns to my side. If anything, his scowl is more severe as he looks at me.
“What are you speaking of, Gwin?”
“The queen in our nest. What are we going to do about her? Sooner or later, people are going to wonder why we are not attending social events with our queen like other hives do. The only other queen she spends time with is Fini. We need to find a way to return her to wherever she came from before more questions begin to come up and it is discovered that she is zaabi and…”
“Is that all you care about, Gwin?” Shavish snaps impatiently, interrupting me. “She can be a mermaid who dwells at the bottom of the lagoon for all I care. She is ours!”
I look over at him, puzzled. “If that is the case, why do you avoid her? Shouldn’t you be attempting to cozy up to her with every hope that she’ll change her mind and stay?”
He grumbles and looks away.
“What was that?” I ask as I dart closer.
Shavish gives me a dark look. “I said—I don’t know how to make amends adequately enough that she will accept my presence.”
I gape at him. “I cannot believe what I am hearing. This, coming from a male who has been nothing but a continuous thorn in my side from his stubborn and persistent every day of our lives.”
My brother’s lips twitch. “I haven’t been all that bad.”
I laugh aloud then, the sound surprising both of us due to how long its been. “You don’t think so? When both Orel and I begged you to give up on mating and yet you drag us along year after year, inspiring our hope? You have carried the full weight of that burden every year. Now that you have finally accomplished your goal and acquired a queen, you are giving up?”
His scowl settles in place once more. “I have not given up. I am just looking for the right opening.” His lip curls then as he sneers. “What of you? I watch you stare after her longingly, but any time she looks at you, you refuse to acknowledge her at all. Which is it, brother? Do you want her, or do you not? Because, honestly, you are starting to confuse all of us. Even now, you talk of returning her and preserving our tattered image in the colony when everything within you cries out for her.”
I stiffen at his words and glare at him, my wings buzzing as I leap forward in the air to keep pace with him. “That is not fair, Shavish.”
His eyes slide over to me and he snorts humorlessly.
“It matters how? This isn’t about fair. This is about reality. You have spoken ceaselessly of not lying to ourselves. How can you yearn so much and yet be so motivated by something so inconsequential as what she was before?”
“Because she wants to return to that state. She doesn’t see any of the beauty of what she is now. She wants to be zaabi, not pixie!” I roar out angrily, shocking us both into silence.
Shavish draws up short, hovering in the air, his eyes piercing me.
“There it is—the heart of the issue. But let me ask you this: what have you done to show her any of the beauty you speak of?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. His body arcs, jumping forward through the air as his wings kick up a speed that I cannot keep up with.
I stare after him as I hover in place, not even attempting to follow.
He is… right. The realization that the very answer had been staring me right in the face this entire time weighs heavily on me. I glance around me helplessly. How do I demonstrate such beauty to one whose life experiences are so different from ours?
As I allow a breeze to carry me forward, I dip my head and pause when I see a queen bouncing among the lotus flowers with her hive. Her movement draws my eye to the pond as the sunlight refracts o
ff the water surface, making it sparkle like all the stars at night. Mixed with the waning sunlight and illuminating even the shadows where the long branches of trees dip into the water, pixie light brightens the water surface as queens settle over the lotuses in vast numbers. The queens play with their young on the blooms as they gather nectar. One queen nearest me sits on a flower, feeding raw nectar to her offspring who sits on her lap as another is bounced by one of her males, the tiny wings buzzing as the little one is tossed into the air. Another queen fans her large citrine wings as she leisurely stretches in the sunlight. A few unmated queens giggle and watch young hives practice dancing over the water in preparation for next year.
I smile suddenly and wheel about in the air, my wings carrying me through the currents of air as I head back toward our nest.
When I drop down through the entrance, I can hear Orenda’s melodic voice as she laughs. She is teasing one of my hive brothers and warm laughter responds to her jesting. As I drift down into the central common area of the hive, my breath catches in my chest painfully. She has Orel seated on the floor while she stands behind him, her hands smoothing through his hair and segmenting it as she winds each portion into a braid. Orel’s wings, though flattened against his back twitch rhythmically with his pleasure at each touch of her fingers, emitting a low vibration.
Dazi lays on a cushion before the hearth, his eyes drooped sleepily as the firelight mingles with his content silver glow. A scroll lies abandoned by his side. It’s an odd sight to see when I would have never guessed that anything could have pried him away from his studies. Instead of poring over pixie documents, he seems entirely content.
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