Nokken

by Mary E. Twomey

  The burdens of my life that had been piled on my chest slowly began to lighten with the hope that I would not have to carry my grief alone. “I miss Linus,” I admitted. “Sometimes I feel like no one’ll ever understand me like that again. Like my whole life wasn’t real because no one’s around who remembers it.”

  Jens rolled on his side and pressed me into him, bringing the blanket up around us to create a cozy cave for my confessional. “I’m listening.”

  For some reason, those two simple words set something loose in my stalwart psyche. My misery began to tumble out of my mouth in words I had never been able to find before. Jens held me and listened, rubbing my back if I started to lose my hold on reality.

  We’d been enemies. We’d been travel buddies. We’d been in serious like with each other, and maybe even love. But that day we became the best of friends. I spilled my grief, and then he finally let me in on his life, which I’d been kept far away from the details of.

  “When your parents leave you on purpose, knowing the village is going to crap because of the trolls, it sucks. They went to the Land of Be and never thought twice of staying when Britt and I told them we wanted to stay.”

  “You seem pretty firm on that. You were never tempted?” I asked.

  “Give up my arm and my freedom and myself all to just lay around and forget my life? No, thanks. Especially with how Pesta puts our souls to her use. I’m no one’s bitch.” He scrutinized my eyes. “Well, maybe yours.”

  “Aw. I’ve always wanted my very own bitch.” I bowed my head like a queen. “You may keep both your arms.”

  He kissed my lips, like he’d forgotten the feel of how good we were together. “Thanks, babe.” Our legs tangled through each other’s as he further opened his vault. “Then I had to kill those trolls. People act like it’s a huge deal, but it’s not. No one wanted to be bothered, just like here with the Nøkkendalig. They’d rather give up their lives and leave for Be than stay and fight for what’s theirs.”

  “But you love a good fight.”

  “Yes. And for a pacifist, so do you.” He placed his hand on my hip and lightly stroked the skin there – a feather touching glass. “The cash reward was nice, but everyone changed. People I’d known for years treated me like I was untouchable. Girls who never gave me the time of day started throwing themselves at me. Nice for a minute, but it got old real fast. Nothing was real. Then the king started getting afraid for his throne. There was this song some girls made up that caught on and really set him off.”

  “Oh! Sing me the song.” I lightly tugged on his shirt like a petulant child.

  Jens grimaced. “Obviously not. This is story time, not song time.”

  “Was it about your animated eyebrows?”

  Jens barked out a laugh at my unexpected guess. “Why would the king be jealous of that?” He waggled his black eyebrows at me. Henry Mancini was wary of the movement and cuddled into my back to warm me.

  “Well, some people over-pluck theirs and never get them back. Maybe he’s up at night penciling his in, thinking to himself he’ll never have what it takes to cast emotion with his eyebrows the way the great Jens does.”

  “If you can believe it, you’re the first woman to be taken with my eyebrows.”

  “That can’t be true. Hmm. Was the song about your giant man muscles?” I lowered my voice to sound like a big man.

  He flexed for my enjoyment. “This one? This mighty skull-crusher?”

  “You name your biceps?”

  “I do now. This one’s called skull-crusher.” He motioned to the one cradling my body. “What do you think the other should be called?”

  Without considering better options, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Jemima. Now, sing me that song.”

  “Oh, shut up. You can ask Jamie or Britt to sing it for you someday. Just make sure I’m far away.” Jens kissed me again, making my toes arch. Henry Mancini yapped at us, breaking us apart. “Jemima. You’re something else.”

  “It’s done. It’s named. I can’t take it back.”

  He reached skull-crusher around me to pet Henry Mancini, caging me in with his arms. I dragged my fingernails through his hair, loving the look of his dark eyelashes fluttering shut as he enjoyed the simple touch. “Man, you own me when you do that.” He studied my face for signs of stress at being so thoroughly contained in his arms. “Am I a safe place for you?”

  I nodded, kissing him with the slow art we were becoming adept at. “I think you might be my only safe place in Undraland. How about we stop fighting so much and start taking care of each other better?”

  Jens gave in to my invitation, running his arm down my hip and cupping the underside of my thigh so he could move it closer. “You got it, Mox.”

  Henry Mancini snuggled into my back, contentedly listening to us kiss and laugh as we deepened our connection.

  Nineteen.

  Safety with Olin and Olina

  Given Nik’s hero status amongst his people, and the fact he was in his thirties, it was strange to me that he still lived with his parents. His mother was prone to gushing about lace doilies, and his father was only missing a pipe to complete the 1950s vibe he had going.

  That night, his mother cooked a roast over the fire and brought it in for “Niklas’s little friends.” She acted like we were having a slumber party, and she was just happy her son had friends. I could smell desperation when she asked me if I was married.

  “Mother!” Nik cautioned. “Queen Lucy is just a friend.” He cast me an apologetic look as he offered me another roll.

  I sat up straighter and chewed the meat in my mouth with a more ladylike air at mention of my fake royalty. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. Wish I could, but I can’t marry your son. Got a world to run and all that. Wow, this roast is delicious.”

  “Are you seeing anyone, dear?” the woman prodded, still campaigning pretty hard for her son. “My Niklas is a hero to the Nøkken, you know. He rid our village of a troll infestation not too long ago.”

  “You don’t say.” I grinned at Nik from across the table, who shot me a warning look. “I actually am seeing someone.” Jens stepped on my foot to let me know not to say it was him. “King Ian Somerhalder. Beautiful man.”

  Jens tried to cover his snort with a cough. “Sorry. Could I get another roll, Nik?”

  “All out.” Nik picked up the empty basket as proof.

  His mother took the basket and stood. She wore a formal ball gown at the table, surrounded by a bunch of vagrants. “I’ll get some more. Olin, would you help me bring out the dessert? The tray’s a little heavy.”

  “Of course, Olina.”

  Olin and Olina. Totally cute.

  As soon as the parental units were gone, Jens took a drink, casting me half a glance. “I could take Ian Somerhalder.” He was probably not the first boyfriend who felt inferior at mention of the sexiest vampire actor ever.

  “Hello, he’s a vampire.”

  Jens set down his cup and rolled his eyes. “I love that you think the real Ian Somerhalder is an actual vampire.”

  “Of course he is. No one’s that good an actor.” I took another bite of the garlic-laden roast. “Why can’t I say I’m with you? Keeping your options open for Nik?” I winked at Nik, who winked at Jens.

  Jens responded by seductively licking his bite of meat in Nik’s direction. “Yes, that’s exactly it. No, babe. You’re a queen to them. If you were with me, it would make you more common in their eyes. Best keep you untouchable. I’m your Tom, and you’re my charge.”

  “Oh, you with the romantic talk. You sure know how to make a girl blush. ‘Charge’ is code for something saucy, right?”

  “Yes. I say you’re my charge, but I’m really calling you the pain in my ass.” Jens addressed Jamie’s wistful smile directed at us. “What?”

  Jamie shrugged. “Nothing. It’s just nice to see you like this. You’re happy. Never thought it would happen for you. You’ve always been a little surly.”

  “W
hatever. I’m a joy.”

  “Yes.” I kissed Jen’s temple. “‘Joy’ is code for ‘big, giant grump.’”

  He grumbled under his breath, proving my point. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the family feel, Nik, but we’re going to need a little space to plan your part in all this.”

  Nik cut his meat like a gentleman next to Tor, who shoveled the mutton down his pie hole without the use of utensils that would only slow him down.

  It was then I noticed Britta was pushing her food around on her plate without really eating. She looked how I felt before Jens calmed me down, and a little how I still felt. She had a burned handprint on her cheek – a constant reminder of the assault. Though it would heal, I knew her insides would take longer to rid themselves of her many scars.

  The thing that bothered me about it was that Jamie still kept a friendly distance from her. In between bites, Jens would reach out and rub my knee under the table. My foot was nudged up against his, savoring the small assurances that we were good together, and I wasn’t alone in my pain. I observed Jamie pretending that he was not madly in love with Britta, and that her torture did not torment him.

  “Mom, Queen Lucy has official business to speak to us about in private. Could we take our desserts to the parlor?”

  “Of course, Niklas. You go have your important meeting with your big important friends.” She clasped her hands together. “Oh! My son, King of the Other Side!”

  “Mom!” Nik protested, shaking his head in apology to me as we all stood. I thanked her for the meal, and then we headed down the hallway.

  Jens wound his fingers through mine. “You can’t even hold onto Ian Somerhalder in your pretend life. You’ve already been auctioned off to Nik.”

  “I could do worse,” I reasoned, sizing up the tall man with sparkly white and blue hair. “Imagine how our kids would look. My height with his fluffy hair? Stellar. A family of mini Einsteins.”

  “I’ve seen your baby pictures. You’ll have cute kids no matter what.” He kissed my temple, warming me from the inside out. The more we learned to work together, the more he exuded comfort. I lapped up his sunshine like it was my last day on earth, cozying into his side as we walked. I guessed it would be inappropriate to jump his bones in the middle of the hallway, but the idea did cross my mind.

  Then I saw Jamie walking a respectable distance behind Britta, and the image broke me from my bliss. “Give me a minute.” Then I addressed my laplanded buddy. “Hold up, Jamie. I need to talk to you.”

  Jamie looked surprised, but indulged me. We hung behind while the others went into the room ahead. “Is everything alright?”

  I shook my head. “Look, we all know you and Britta have a thing going. You hid it in front of Nik’s parents, but when it’s just our group? Girlfriend’s falling apart over there, and you’re worried about social propriety? I don’t get it. She needs you!” I looked up at him with a hint of scolding in my eyes.

  Jamie exhaled. “The Tomten aren’t like you humans. Maybe it’s normal for you to make your love public, but it’s not for us unless we’re married. We both know that can never be. She’s been through enough. I won’t put her through a social shaming.”

  I motioned around the wooden walls bedecked with frilly artwork and knitted knickknacks. “You call this public? It’s just us in here. This whole time in the mountains? Who are the rocks going to tell? You’re being stupid. She’s just been through the smack of it in that river, and you’re keeping her from the one thing that’ll help. Maybe you won’t have her forever, but this trip is your one chance to have what both of you always wanted. You have a limited amount of time together, and you’re wasting it pretending like we won’t approve of the thing we all know should be happening.” I pointed to the room. “Now go in there and make yourself useful. Do you think she can handle what just happened to her?”

  Jamie’s face shifted. His eyes were wide, looking slightly unhinged. “Do you think I can handle what happened to her? To you?” He rolled up the hem of his shirt, exposing the handprints that burned themselves into his skin via our psychic link. I gasped, flinching at the sight. “I’m sick just thinking about it!”

  “Then do something about it!” I countered. “Jens killed the smackholes that did this to us, and then he held me until I came back to myself. You need her, and she needs you. She didn’t sign on for all this. She came for you!”

  Jamie held up his hands and backed up, taking a deep breath. “I don’t want to hurt her when we get back and I have to marry Freya.”

  “So instead you’re hurting her now? Be alive for once in your life.” I crossed my arms over my scarred chest. “And you can stop pretending that you’ll go through with that betrothal. I’m taking you over to the Other Side when it’s time to destroy the last portal, and you’re not coming back.”

  Jamie gave a short, perfunctory laugh laced with bitterness. “You act like it’s all so simple.”

  “It is.” I nodded once. “I’m the Queen, and I command it so.”

  He covered his face with his hands. “I wish I could be hopeful, like you.”

  I reached up and pried his hands from his face. “You’re crazy in love with Britta. Whatever it takes, I’ll make this happen for you. You just have to stop being such a wuss. Not sexy.”

  Jamie’s cheeks reddened. “I’m not sure I would fit in on your side. I will never get used to a woman talking like that.”

  “Man up, chief.” I chucked him in the arm. “We’re stuck with each other, so you might as well get used to it.”

  We entered the parlor together, with Jens shooting me an inquisitive eyebrow arch. I friggin’ loved his eyebrows. So expressive. I waved off his unspoken questions.

  Uncle Rick called the room to order, and I noticed Mace by his side. He’d been missing at dinner. He had a resigned look on his face and bags under his eyes. I moved across the room and stood next to him, bumping my hip to his side. He offered up a half-smile and poked me in the back with his prehensile cow’s tail. I really hoped I’d get used to that one day.

  Uncle Rick cleared his throat. “I think the best time to move forward is after we’ve all had a couple good nights of sleep. We’re not suspected to be here, and I’ve already spoken to Olin and Olina. They’ve agreed to keep our visit a secret for now.”

  I cast Jens a disbelieving look. Nik’s mom wouldn’t be able to keep quiet for long. She was practically over the moon that a Queen was staying in her house and would hopefully marry her son. I could already hear the gossip mill turning.

  Jens raised two fingers to interrupt. “I agree, but let’s keep it to one more night here. I don’t like the idea of staying in one place for long. Eventually word’ll spread this way. I’d like to be gone long before then.”

  Uncle Rick spread out his palms. “Any objections to setting about our deed tomorrow? It’s another four days’ journey to the portal, and I think we could use some respite if we’re to resist more of the Nøkken song.”

  Twenty.

  Something to Talk About

  When night fell, Nik sang a song to help everyone make good use of their time spent sleeping. I sat curled up in Jens’s lap in the parlor with everyone else. When the song began, we were holding hands, my back to his chest, looking wistfully at Nik as he lulled us all.

  Nik was beautiful when he sang. The shimmer in his fluffy hair was a gentle brush of magic that added to the ambiance. A fire roared in the hearth, crackling almost in rhythm with his melody. My heart hurt when he reached the high notes, and I finally understood why people loved the opera so much, not that his voice was strictly operatic. It was lovely, and so was he.

  Foss started snoring on the rug, with Henry Mancini resting his snout on his tattooed forearm. Tor was grumbling something in his sleep. Uncle Rick and Charles rested on their mats, the worries of both worlds off their shoulders for those few hours of respite. Jamie actually took my advice and cuddled up next to Britta, the firelight dancing off their knit-together bodies with elega
nce that took my breath away.

  Jens. Stunning Jens. I needed, wanted and appreciated him with equal intensity. His thick black eyelashes that were just wasted on a man swept his cheekbones and made him, if possible, more enthralling to watch. He breathed, and I breathed, and for all its wrongness, the world felt right.

  When the song ended, everyone in the room was asleep, except for Nik and me.

  “Whoa! That’s crazy, Nik,” I whispered. I pecked Jens’s cheek and detached myself from his lax embrace. Nik hoisted me up and led me into the kitchen, where he made me a cup of tea by candlelight. We sat at the lace-covered table and blew on our hot beverages, enjoying the peace of civilized company.

  “How are you, darling?” Nik asked, studying my face for signs of a lie.

  “Your parents’ place is amazing. It’s like the mid-twentieth century in here, minus electricity. How’d that happen?”

  “Pirates.”

  “Come again? Like, yo ho mateys?” I did my best impression, but I was kinda tired, so it fell flat.

  “Huh? Pirates,” he repeated, as if I hadn’t heard him correctly the first time. “Nøkken and Fossegrimens who go over to the Other Side and bring back treasure.”

  “Seriously? So that’s where all this came from. Weird. Is that kosher?”

  “If you mean legal, not anymore. It’s a practice that policies have been put up against so it doesn’t happen as much. Undrans don’t want to cross over, now that the Huldra are running loose on your side. I would imagine these are quite outdated. My parents acquired them before I was born.”

  “Well, it’s lovely. How are you after giving up your secret about Bjorn and all that?”

  Nik looked into his cup like he was hoping it held a pit big enough for him to hide in. “I feel small, surrounded by giants. Much how you must feel physically, I’d imagine.”