Curse of the Troll

by Emma Hamm

  Were they lovers? Were they fighters who would free others? Or were they infinitely more than that, two halves of a whole who had been searching for each other?

  He blew out a breath and looked back at Angus who had paused. They stared at each other for a time, unspoken words flowing between them.

  Finally, the dwarf king nodded toward Elva. “I’ll see you at home soon.”

  “It was good to see you.”

  “And you.”

  He turned his back on the king and made his way to Elva’s side. She’d raised her hands, where glittering gold magic spilled from them.

  “You know spells now?” he said quietly, standing behind her so as not to disturb.

  “I’ve always known spells.”

  “You never used them.”

  Elva looked at him over her shoulder, not stopping the wave like movement of her fingers. “I couldn’t.”

  “What changed?”

  “You.”

  She looked away from him then, and he was glad for it. His chest had expanded so much in masculine pride he was embarrassed. But hell, she’d just said he was the reason why she could use magic again, and damned if that wasn’t better than anything else he’d ever heard in his life.

  A bright spot of golden light opened on the ground. He’d never seen a portal that looked like that. She’d created it, though, and that meant he was going to walk through it with her.

  Elva tucked her hands behind her back and slowly turned toward him. “I guess this is where we part.”

  “Why?”

  She shook her head. “Why what?”

  “Why are we parting?”

  “What else would we do?”

  Donnacha pointed at the portal behind her. “I’m coming with you.”

  “No, you aren’t. Why would you do that?” She appeared confused, an expression he’d never seen before on her face. “You should go back with your people.”

  “My place is with you.” He stepped forward and lifted a hand to touch her cheek. “I don’t know why you crossed the entire Otherworld to get me back, but I do know I don’t want to lose that. And you’re running, so I’m going to follow you wherever you go.”

  “I’m not running.”

  “Yes, you are.” He smoothed his thumb over the high peaks of her cheekbones. “But that’s okay. I know you’re afraid. I am, too. We’ll figure this out together. Now tell me, where are you running off to?”

  Elva swallowed hard. “The Raven Kingdom.”

  That place was one of the most dangerous in all of the Otherworld. He’d only heard horror stories coming out of that kingdom, and it wasn’t the good kind of horror stories. He swallowed hard in return. “Why are we going there?”

  “My sister lives there. I wanted to talk to her, considering I almost just died.”

  “You didn’t almost die.”

  “But I could have. And that put everything in a little more perspective. I lost her a long time ago and I never tried to find her.” Elva shook her head in his grasp. “I don’t tell anyone that. I don’t know why I’m telling you.”

  “Because you trust me. What happened to her?”

  “We let her be a changeling. Threw her away to the humans, and she wanted me to find her. I didn’t. I didn’t even try. Instead, I married the Seelie King, ruined my life, and then when she found me years later, I didn’t try to keep her with me then either. I’ve been trying to make up for that ever since.”

  He knew a thing or two about families who were difficult. His own didn’t really want him around, thus how he ended up cursed because he was wandering through the woods outside the mines when he shouldn’t have been.

  Donnacha nodded. “Okay, let’s go talk with her then.”

  She stared down into his eyes, confusion clouding her own. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Just…let’s go see your sister? No hesitation, no additional thoughts, nothing else to say?”

  “Elva, she’s your sister. I don’t know the woman, so what else could I possibly add to this conversation? I don’t know how to change her mind, and I’m certainly not going to tell you the right way to deal with her. I have no doubt if you want to fix this, you will. But we should probably go now or your portal is going to collapse on itself.”

  Elva slowly nodded. “Yes, let’s go then.”

  “You look like you have more to say.”

  “I don’t know what I want to say to you. You’re a confusing man, Donnacha.”

  He shrugged. “You wouldn’t be the first person to say it. Now, come on, let’s go to the Raven Kingdom, of all places. Are the soldiers going to attack us immediately?”

  “Of course not. We might not get along, but she’s still my sister. I have permission to create portals whenever I want.”

  She made her way toward the portal, and he followed on her heels. He reached out his hand for her to take. She slid her fingers into his the moment before she tugged him into the magic.

  A popping sound echoed in his ears as they traveled through the Otherworld at a speed he couldn’t even fathom. They stepped from the portal seconds later into the center of a great hall where construction was in full blast.

  Donnacha tried to keep his jaw shut as he looked up. Banshee’s hovered in the air above them, white gowns floating as if they were underwater as they repaired the stained glass on the ceiling. A dullahan in front of them tossed his head to a dearg-due who stood on a ladder. The vampire woman held the head up high enough for him to look into the rafters where he then shouted, “All good!”

  The marble floor beneath their feet was cracked, and he had a few ideas on how to fix that easier than the sluggish dark shadows that slithered over the floor.

  Why was the Raven Kingdom filled with such strange creatures? It was uncomfortable to be around them, even though he knew they were technically his brethren, faeries as well.

  Elva didn’t even flinch or look at the creatures. She stomped toward a woman who stood with bird-like creatures surrounding her. The woman was the mirror image of Elva, strangely enough. But where Elva was light, the other woman was dark. Black hair, pale skin, and eyes exactly the same as Elva.

  The sister pointed up at something in the ceiling, unaware that her sister was advancing. One of the bird creatures pointed at Elva the moment before she grabbed her sister’s shoulder.

  Donnacha winced. Was she going to hit her? Probably not the best way to greet siblings, although he shouldn’t intervene.

  Instead of striking her, however, Elva tugged the sister into her arms and didn’t let go even when the other woman struggled.

  Donnacha watched the strange greeting with a smile on his face. She was pretty, this sister. Not in the same way as Elva, who seemed to burn with the fires of the sun. But in the mysterious way the moon gazed down at the earth. Untouchable, glowing with a silver light.

  Someone grunted beside him. “I figured they’d get over their own issues eventually.”

  Donnacha looked beside him and tried not to gape at what was clearly the Raven King. The man was impossibly tall. His dark hair was tied back from his face with a leather thong, dark feathers laced between the strands. It was his eyes that were terrifying, however. One dark human eye, the other a yellow raven eye surrounded by downy feathers.

  The Raven King looked back at him. “I’m Bran.”

  “The man who Elva talks about?” Donnacha carefully didn’t say the man she was in love with once, the one she cast aside for the Seelie King and who she still regretted letting go. Although she hadn’t said the last part, Donnacha had understood what she was implying.

  Bran nodded. “One and the same.”

  “And the sister?”

  “Aisling. My wife.”

  Relief made Donnacha’s vision blur for a moment. The man was married. That was rare in faerie culture and boded well that he wasn’t going to try to steal Elva back. Because this one could. Hell, he might be terrifying, but he was still an impressively hands
ome man. Even Donnacha could see that.

  Bran held out his hand. “I take it you’re her partner now?”

  “In a way.” Donnacha shook the offered hand. “Although, probably not in the way you’re thinking.”

  A dark, feathered brow lifted. “Ah. Interesting. I didn’t think she was capable of that.”

  “Neither did she.”

  The hand in his tightened, and Bran tugged him forward until they were far closer than Donnacha was comfortable being.

  The Raven King quietly murmured, “If you hurt her, I will break every bone in your body. Slowly and very thoroughly.”

  “And if you think she can’t protect herself, then you don’t know her as well as you think.”

  Bran released him with a chuckle. “I think I might like you, for all that you are a dwarf.”

  “That’s better than most faeries I’ve met.”

  Donnacha didn’t particularly like the man standing beside him, but he respected him. The Raven King was far different than most of the royals. He cared for Elva, that was clear, but perhaps in a brotherly way that made it a little easier to swallow.

  The women were walking toward them,. He straightened his spine and tried to be a little taller. Everyone else was significantly taller than him, although Elva was at least the shortest in the room.

  Why had she let him come, he wondered? After all they’d been through, he considered them friends certainly. But there had also been moments when he’d been convinced they were more than that.

  Now, staring at the beautiful faeries standing around him, he wondered why she even bothered letting him into her life. They were all so much…more than him.

  Bran crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his wife. “Did you figure it out?”

  “Not yet,” she replied, “but maybe someday.”

  “Well, it’s a start.”

  The dark woman turned her eyes to his and narrowed them. “Who are you?”

  He didn’t have a response for that. He was Donnacha, a dwarf, in a place where he felt very much out of place among faeries who were all infinitely more attractive than him. That was an odd feeling. He didn’t know where to go from here.

  Opening his mouth, fully aware whatever came out was going to be ridiculous words, he was interrupted by Elva.

  “He’s mine,” she said.

  “Yours?” her sister asked with a cough. “What in the world does that mean?”

  “I don’t really know.” Elva looked at him with something new in her eyes, a softness he had only seen during the ball. “I hope you’ll stick around for a while, Donnacha, so we might see what this becomes.”

  The room around them melted away until all he could see was her face. It didn’t matter there were dozens of faeries who could hear him, or that her sister and ex-lover stood close enough to touch. He had eyes only for her. “Here?”

  She smiled. “No, not in the Raven Kingdom. This isn’t home. I don’t really have a place where I call home.”

  “You don’t want to live with Scáthach, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Then how about with me?” he asked. “I know it’s a larger step, but we don’t have to live in the mines with the others. They wouldn’t let me back so soon after a curse anyway. We could have a little home. It won’t be anything you’re used to, of course. No castle nor manor.”

  “I lived with Scáthach’s warriors for the past ten years,” she said, stepping closer to him. “I think I’ll be fine in a small house.”

  “A hut really.”

  “Dirt floors?”

  He reached for her, drawing her closer into his arms. “Dirt floors, thatch roof, probably a fireplace that belches smoke back into the room.”

  “But will you be there?”

  “As much as I can be.”

  Elva leaned down and brushed her lips against his. “Then that’s where I want to be.”

  Epilogue

  The wheat field spread out around Elva, golden in the sunlight. It was quite possibly the most beautiful field she’d ever seen. She lounged on a blue blanket with the tiniest version of herself.

  “Tie this little bit here.” She wrapped the tail end of flowers in her hands and watched her daughter mimic the movement.

  “Like this?”

  “Perfect. Then you loop one more time and you’re done.”

  Her daughter, the blond little sprite who was the spitting image of Elva, held up the flower crown in her hands. “I did it!”

  The smile on Elva’s face felt as though it might break her cheeks. “Look how beautiful it is!”

  It was not, in fact, beautiful. Actually, it was rather droopy, and her daughter had knocked off more than a few petals from the flowers. Annaleise wasn’t very careful in her artworks, but it didn’t matter. This was still the most beautiful crown Elva had ever seen.

  They traded flowers and Elva popped her daughter’s creation on her head. “See? Isn’t it lovely?”

  “You’re always lovely, mamaí.”

  The amount of love she felt for this little thing frightened her sometimes.

  Another voice shouted across the field. “Mamaí!”

  Elva turned to see her first child, her son, sprinting across the field toward her. He was a dark little thing with hair as black as night. His eyes were hers, though, blue as the sky in the clearest noon.

  He raced toward her and launched himself into her arms. Dirt smudged his cheek and the white shirt he wore.

  “What did you do today?” she asked, licking her thumb and wiping at the mud. “You’re all dirty!”

  “Dadaí took me into the mines!”

  “I thought we said it was too dangerous for someone your age.”

  “I’m ten. I can go into the mines now! All the other dwarves are doing it by now.”

  She didn’t have it in her heart to say he took after her more than his father. Though he looked like Donnacha, Iain was going to be as tall as she was. Annaleise, however, was going to be as short as a dwarf and likely have a thick beard like the rest of them.

  The father of her children approached them with a broad grin on his face. Time had aged Donnacha as it did all dwarves. The lines around his eyes were deeper and a thin thread of gray had spread from his temple.

  He was just as handsome as ever.

  Dirt smudged her husband as well, covered him in fact. Elva rolled her eyes and placed her son on the ground. “Take your sister back to the house.”

  “Mamaí,” Iain whined.

  “Go on.”

  He took his younger sister in his arms and scampered toward the small hut with pink roses growing all around it. A curl of smoke lifted into the air, and a goat feasted on grass in the front where she’d tied it to a post.

  Donnacha placed a hand on her waist and turned her to him. Dirty and grinning, he leaned up to plant a kiss firmly to her mouth. “Hello, wife.”

  “Hello, husband.”

  “Do you know how happy I am with you?”

  She grinned. “Well, you only tell me every day.”

  “And I will tell you each and every day we are together.” He pulled her closer, pressing another kiss to her lips before pulling back. “I love you, Elva. More than the sun in the sky.”

  In that moment and every moment after, she was infinitely happy. After all the struggle, all the times when she had hated the world and herself, Elva had finally found her home.

  Afterword

  This was a very difficult story for me to write. I’m sure some of my fans and dear friends picked up on the small hints throughout the previous books. Elva’s story hits close to home for me.

  I almost didn’t want to write her story because it felt a bit too much like I was baring my soul, and my editor mentioned that I pulled a few punches that really could have hit home.

  However, I felt it was necessary to write this side of the tale. To breathe life into the struggles that a lot of women survive through.

  Relationships can be hard. Memories of
relationships can be even more difficult, when you wonder if you were the problem all along.

  In the end, I hope you know that whatever you decide is right. However you heal, that is the right answer for yourself.

  And that no matter what, I’m here to talk. Your healing is more important than anything else.

  You are strong.

  You are capable.

  And you are loved.

  Also by Emma Hamm

  The journey began in Heart of the Fae, a Beauty and the Beast retelling.

  Continued in Veins of Magic, the second book in the Beauty and the Beast Duology.

  Dove beneath the waves in Bride of the Sea, an Otherworld Companion Novel and retelling of The Little Mermaid.

  We met the Unseelie Prince and Witch in The Faceless Woman, the first book in the Swan Princess Duology.

  We continued their story in The RAVEN’S BALLAD, the second book in the Swan Princess Duology.

  About the Author

  Emma Hamm grew up in a small town surrounded by trees and animals. She writes strong, confident, powerful women who aren't afraid to grow and make mistakes. Her books will always be a little bit feminist, and are geared towards empowering both men and women to be comfortable in their own skin.