The Toll

by Jeanette Lynn

  “You know I will,” I swore.

  “The big one and the little one,” he teased, wrangling a small chuckle out of me.

  “The new corners,” Troll asked quickly, “they willna...” he let the question hang.

  “If it comes to that, I’ll personally see to it they don’t even utter your name.”

  “Right.” Awkward and unsure, Troll just nodded.

  I understood the confusion all too well. To feel the loss of something or someone, and then guilt, as remorse hits you.

  For the sake of him knowing love, she’d said, wishing him to know it, but what did she know of love, truly?

  It was a needed change, the shift in corners, as were his feelings, I felt. It was all a necessary part of the healing process. He needed to feel, and express those feelings—the more he felt, all the better.

  “There are no good-byes for us, Gersthart,” Bo called softly. “Blood or not, you’re family, and there are never good-byes for those we love, only... until thens, hmm? So,” he saluted smartly, “you keep your troll rump warming a seat for me, boyo, and raise that wee beastie up right. Now, I’ve a date with fate, and I can’t be late.” Chuckling at himself, he rapped his knuckles along the wall in quick succession. “Let us just say, until next time.”

  Bo was gone after that, disappearing with a swirl of dusty air and a wink, leaving up and out, much the same as the Lady had.

  All that was left in the small room was Vidi, scrubbing quickly at her eyes, Troll and myself, and Calder, happy to wriggle around between my splayed legs, Troll’s right next to mine, cradling us protectively.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Vidi murmured quietly, “I think I’ll go see Brevin now,” pausing, she peeked at me, “if that’s alright?”

  “Of course,” giving her a small, wan smile, I held my arms up and out, waiting for her to make her way over and hug me back tight.

  “He’s beautiful,” she murmured, sliding back a bit when she’d pulled herself back together, running a hand lightly over Calder’s little grey head.

  Pride for my little one warmed my heart instantly. “Yes, he is, isn’t he.”

  “I’ve something for you,” she murmured, “a gift for the return of my bracelet.”

  “Oh?”

  My sister-friend nodded, reaching into a small pouch attached at her hip, holding her hand out to me, cupping something small and metal inside my palm. I knew instantly, as it lit up blue, magic rolling off of it in waves, exactly what it was.

  Jaw dropping, I opened my trembling palm slowly. “Vidi? But...”

  “I named my terms,” satisfaction filled her face, “Magda’s are null and void. Learned a few things from your Earth Elemental friend. Quite a bit, and quite useful.” Tapping my wrist, she winked and whispered, “Put it on, you know you want to.”

  Lifting up from the bed, nudging me encouragingly, she went to take her leave.

  I was still gaping, fish mouthed, gums flapping uselessly, blinking down at the priceless bauble.

  “Troll?” Vidi paused and poked her head back around.

  “Lost one?” Troll groused back, brows furrowed as I cupped the small locket in my palm.

  “You hurt my sister-friend,” she waved a sparking finger pointedly, silver dust crackling in the air, “and they’ll never find your body.”

  Grunting, Troll wrapped his arms around me tight, nuzzling my neck. “She’s mine, g’pra dra, pale, lily white arse an’ all, an’ I intend ta keep her.”

  “Be still my beating heart,” I snorted under my breath, shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth.

  Smiling, Vidi canted her head. “Close as you’re going to get, bright eyes, I’m guessing. I’d take what I can.” Smirking at my bonded, she nodded. “That’ll do, Troll. That’ll do.” Eyes flashing solid green, she slipped her bracelet back on, whole once more as it shrunk to fit her wrist, and gave me a quick finger wave. “I’m going now, but I’ll be back.”

  With a swirl of her hooded cape, tossing it over her shoulders, she flapped the hood out, covering her long, gleaming white hair, and strode out of sight.

  We stayed like that, Troll and I, snuggled close, his arms wrapped around me comfortingly, long after Vidi had made off.

  “Ye’re quiet,” he muttered, placing small, delicious kisses along my nape. Skin shivering with small goosebumps, I sighed.

  “Mmm,” was all I could manage at the moment.

  Calder let out a small gurgle, little legs pumping, and we both smiled down at him, both reaching out to tickle his round little belly at the same time.

  “What ye be thinkin’ ‘bout?” my bonded asked quietly, brushing his thick fingertips with mine.

  “Everything,” I breathed, leaning into his warmth.

  Troll hunched down a little, burying his face in my neck, fingers trailing through my hair as he brought handfuls of it to his nose. “Missed ye,” he grumbled, inhaling deeply.

  “Despite all that’s happened? Despite... everything?” The worry that crept through me, slithering up my chest, snaking around my heart, as if to constrict the heavily thumping organ, I realized a moment too late, wasn’t all my own.

  “Can ye love this sorry arsed, ornery ol’ troll of yers through everythin’, despite everythin’?”

  Turning slightly, I cupped his jaw, nuzzling along his chin. “I don’t know... why don’t you kiss me and find out?”

  Nostrils flaring, orange eyes glowing bright, Troll’s lips were on mine instantly, taking them possessively, plundering my mouth thoroughly as his tongue slipped in, tangling with mine as he groaned hungrily. Hands tangling in my hair, my arms wrapped around his neck, careful of Calder as I twisted a little more. Closer. We needed closer.

  Pulling back reluctantly, pecking my lips with small, possessive kisses, my mate-husband murmured softly, “Dinna deserve ye.”

  Smiling against his lips, I was just happy to have him back, thick skin and all. “You’ll make it up to me, though, won’t you?”

  “As long as I be breathin’. Better believe it.”

  Flying By

  “You know,” I clipped out, trying to wrestle Calder into staying put in the small basin of water I’d filled to bathe him—for just one darned minute—squinting as he let out a deep baby laugh, splashing me right in the face, “I could use a little help... Oomph... Gah! Over here.”

  Troll grunted, glancing up from the large animal hide he’d finished skinning. Scales and fur mingled on whatever mythical, mystical beast he’d hunted down, bloody feathers and shiny, clinking iridescent scales, along with little bits of fur that smelled strongly of wet dog, wafting towards us.

  Ornthren lived under Under, I’d been told by my beloved grouch. Deep below Underhill was a series of magic infused tunnels and deep caves, water filled caverns and small grottos, a perfect haven for a night loving Ornthren who still held ties to the human world. Well, this human world. Turns out there are two planes of existence for man. The other one was clear across the other side of the Hill, but I had little to no interest in learning about such a place.

  There was a magical realm streaming with Others right above us, spewing magic right over our rock covered heads.

  They rarely ventured down this way, possibly for fear of dismemberment by a territorial Ornthren, but according to Troll, “Those wee Fae bastards and pansy assed Pixie dust-butts could give a fig ‘bout us. Long as we dinna try ta take over the top, they leave the bottom ta us. Live an’ let live, they say. So long as those bastards stay away from what’s mine, they can keep their heads. Havena had to decapitate one of them flower lovin’ arse hats yet.”

  He did warn of Centaurs, dragons, and a few dozen or other creatures that had, from time to time, wandered into the deeper part of the catacombs, towards the heart of Nevermore, a shady part of the black forest, for the more... primitive, rough dwelling Others. Which, naturally, had me cringing and hugging Calder to my chest until he squeaked.

  I made a mental note not to venture too close to th
e surface, or the center, or anywhere for that matter, without Troll.

  A feather attached itself to Calder and he giggled, plucking it up in his chubby fist as he yanked me from my thoughts, trying to shove it into his always hungry little mouth.

  “No. No,” I scolded gently, snatching the feather up fast.

  Grunting a chuff, he tried to take it back, but I’d already wiped it on the sheet wrapped around my skirt for an apron.

  Vidi’s first visit back had been complete with a visit from Brevin—who’d looked hale and hearty to me, happy with his new guardian, even—as well as the clothes that had gotten left behind in my haste to leave once upon a time so long past. I’d thought it strange that it was all intact, but Brevin had mumbled something about Aitziber’s bags, still full, being found dumped in the barn, untouched.

  When I’d asked Troll about it, thinking it an odd happenstance, he’d simply grunted and waved it off, sighting, “Stranger things have happened, Nugget.” And truly, they had.

  Calder, feeling thwarted as I shooed another feather away, brushing the filthy muck away as they floated towards us, let out a blood curdling wail, throwing his head back as I hefted his weight out of the small tub, settling him quickly in a pile of fresh, clean cloths. “Oh, come, come, little man. You can’t eat that.”

  “Mum!” he wailed louder, fat little tear drops trailing down his cheeks.

  “No, Mum says no, silly boy.” He stared to roll over, determined in his obstinate, set little mind that he was to have a feather. “Nope. Nuh-uh.” Rolling him back, which was proving harder and harder as his weight became more akin to a sack of rocks than a little babe. “Now then, you wriggly little fellow, let’s dry you off, then, huh?”

  “No. No! No.” Shaking his head as he sat up, tugging the sheet over his head, I snorted quietly to myself, careful he didn’t catch on.

  “Lovely new word you’ve learned, love, but Mum says yes,” I insisted.

  Pulling the sheet up enough to peek at me through the top, wide blue eyes bright, he glanced over my shoulder, perking right up. “Mum yes?”

  Smart little booger. “No, Mum says no feather, yes to getting dressed.”

  “Humph.” the sheet went back down. “No.”

  “Oi, wee beastie!” Troll barked. “Quit givin’ yer mother grief.”

  “Troll.”

  “What?” he chuffed, waving his tool at us from clear across the room. “He stopped, dinna he?” In deference to my ‘delicate sensibilities’, he wore pants on the rare occasions we ventured out, but here, in Under, he favored that small bit of cloth that barely covered anything. A tamptet—he calls it. Suitable attire for an Ornthren. An animal hide handkerchief—I say, but didn’t have my heart in it to argue. Mmm-hmmm, I snuck a peek over at him, watching as his thighs tensed, calves flexing, all that exposed skin flashing with every precision like stroke of his tool.

  Blushing when he paused to sniff the air, a self-satisfied rumble tumbling from his lips, I shut that mental door with a firm kick. Now is not the time for such lascivious frivolities.

  Quaz and Ketik, glancing up from their own kills in the large, circular room, chuckled, snickering.

  “Ugh! And stop saying he’s a beast! He’s a baby. Your child, may I remind you. There is nothing ‘beastly’ about him.”

  “Mine, alright, an’ a right beast, the wee devil.” Grinning over at his small Ornthren son, he winked.

  “Is not.”

  “Is so.” He didn’t even try to hide his smirk.

  Troll had filled out quite a bit in the weeks since he came back to us, and was still too thin as far as I was concerned, but the old Troll was back, along with a bit of new I wasn’t about to complain about, and my heart sang.

  “He bit me,” Ketik put in helpfully, “drew blood.” Eyes narrowing, he held up his marred flesh for proof. “Right blood thirsty whelp.”

  “You were antagonizing him,” I sniffed defensively, “and he’s teething.” Already shooting up like a weed, more than his fair share of chompers already in and ready to clamp down, gnawing on solid food, he wouldn’t be a baby for much longer. Ornthren really do develop too fast.

  “Mm,” Troll grunted, “what did I say? A right beast of a wee beastie.”

  Glancing down at my quiet son, his little face scrunched up as he grunted, giving his father and uncle a look of utter disgust as his gaze bounced back and forth between them, I couldn’t help but mirror the feeling. Though Calder’s talking was limited in comparison to his quick physical development, he more than made up for it with his actions and facial expressions.

  Laughing, I wrapped a towel around him, chortling. “I think mum-mum agrees with you, sweet.”

  “Mum,” he mumbled, grabbing my cheeks to yank me down to him for a smacking kiss.

  “Come on, lad,” Quaz called, “come help me cook supper, eh?”

  “Sup! Sup!” Wriggling loose, completely in the buff, he tried to make a run for it, crawling away fast before I could snatch him up. My fingers grazed him, but the little devil with thick grey skin and flashing blue eyes was just too fast.

  “Hey!” I muttered, shaking my head as he muddied his hands and knees across the bare floor, racing to his uncle’s outstretched hands. “I just washed you,” I mumbled, defeated. Tossing my hands up, I stood up, ready to drag the basin over to the small hole in the center of the room.

  “That’s what ye get fer tryin’ ta wash a babe in the middle of the slaughterin’ room,” Ketik snorted.

  Slaughtering room. I disliked that phrase immensely, but that’s what this was, the room they butchered the meat in, skinning and readying it to salt it for preserving, or cook immediately.

  “Nobody asked you, bloat-a-goat,” I shot back, collecting the towels and small bar of sweet smelling soap, “and it was his idea,” my head jerked to Troll, “not mine.”

  “Wench,” the purple-eyed Ornthren muttered, cleaning off his tools on a small cloth.

  “Horse’s ass.” And while I thought of it, I shouted, “Quaz? You might want to cover him up, hmm?”

  “What’s wrong with a bit ‘o’ nakedness among family? Our tamptets aint much a coverin’. Ye’ve seen me balls a time or too. Havena gone blind yet!” I heard him yell from down the corridor, followed by a booming chuckle.

  Shaking my head, my nose scrunched up at the reminder. “Because you’ll be cleaning up after him if he makes a mess, that’s why!” I called sweetly.

  “Right. Fine idea. Dressin’ it is.” Then, much lower, I heard him mutter, “Dinna be shittin’ on me, lad, we’ll find ye a nappy.”

  “Quaz!”

  “What?” Acutely befuddled at my harsh bark, the male truly had no clue.

  Shaking my head, I prayed for patience. “You’re all going to be the death of me,” I grumbled.

  “Isna that bad, Nugget,” Troll rumbled from his corner, mixing the skinned creatures brains with various other ingredients for tanning. The remains of the cracked skull of the creature, what was left of it, were repurposed for a bowl to mix his concoction in.

  Not willing to dignify that with an answer, studiously looking anywhere but at the animal skull bowl, I dumped the large tub out, collected the dirty linens, and strode from the room. “I’m going to wash these and have a soak.” Once down the hall, I bellowed, “Family or not, Quaz, you walk in on me bathing, you’ll pray sanctuary! And pants!”

  “Loud and clear, Lady Nugget!” Quaz called back.

  Inviolable

  Wringing out the final bit of material, I set it on the line to dry. Night had fallen already, and while I could have used the hot spring in one of the smaller catacombs to wash, I craved the fresh air. I’ll go wash in a minute, I promised the ache in my lower back.

  Walking back over to the mouth of the outside cave, the door back inside hidden in the wall farthest back, I closed my eyes, listening to the crickets chirping their little night time lullaby. Dipping my feet into the large river, staring out at the unfamiliar trees and rocks
beyond, I longed for Troll’s cave—the closest I’d had to a home.

  “Look pensive.”

  “I am pensive.”

  I knew when he was approaching, before my ears had time to take note, my senses running wild at his proximity, womb instantly heating as my woman’s place throbbed at the mere scent of him.

  I missed him, not having been intimate in so many months, and not once since the weeks past. I craved his touch as much as I craved the connection of our bond.

  We’d needed time, the both of us, and I understood that, but found my patience running thin, as of late.

  “Wish ta talk ‘bout it, then?” Setting his tools down, his warmth invaded me as he plopped down right beside me.

  Watching him lean forward to soap his tools and dip them in the river, I shrugged, peeking over at him. “Do you?”

  A humorless laugh escaped him and he sighed tiredly.

  Clearing his throat, setting his tools farther back on the ledge, about to speak, he shook his head and gestured to me. “Ladies first.”

  Clucking my tongue, I let my feet fall with a heavy splash. “Since when did you ever consider me a lady? Nope, sorry, old man. This time, I’m putting my foot down—troll’s first.”

  “Calder shite on Quaz.” Squinting into the distance, Troll let his feet slip into the water slowly, wriggling his toes around in the cool, clashing waves of the steadfast current.

  Slanting him a disbelieving look, I eyed him warily. “Really?”

  Watching for my reaction, he grinned. “No. Sure did piss all over him, though. Had to listen to him bawlin’ ‘bout it on me way out here.”

  A small smile, a tiny bit of the devil in me peeking out, tipped my lips. “Serves him right.”

  My mate-husband snorted a chuckle. “Ketik had a good laugh about it.” Cocking his head, orange eyes swirling, he studied me closely, gaze intent.

  Frowning at the tinge of jealousy that rocked through him, and subsequently into me, I blinked and it was gone, quick as a flash.

  Frowning harder, I smoothed my hands down the hard rock ledge, cupping my fingers over the edge. “Yes, well, Ketik’s an ass.”