The Troll Bride

by S. J. Sanders

  Instead, everywhere I look there are massive, thick trees reaching up to weave their branches into a near-impenetrable canopy. The light filtering down is muted but several species of plants and flowers have a fascinating bioluminescence that provide a source of light along the trails of the forest. Everywhere there are countless springs that feed into larger swamps that Cavek points out at a distance.

  “Are there alligators there?” Boukie asks, completely captivated, as we cross over a bridge under which a murky river flows into the swamp.

  “I don’t believe I have ever heard of any such thing,” Cavek chuckles as he leans slightly into me, his body brushing along mine. “But there are a number of beings and creatures who call the swamps their home. Some of them are quite dangerous, and they will swallow you up if you give into the slumber-inducing vapors released in the depths of the swamp by the nightbloom swamp lilies.”

  I watch with rapt fascination as a flurry of lights chases each other over the green-tinged water flush with flora.

  “Are those fireflies?” I ask with interest. Although I had spent some time outside of Alaska, I hadn’t seen fireflies before.

  Cavek looks in the direction I’m pointing and smiles.

  “Pixies,” he announces as if speaking of something as common as a honeybee rather than a magnificent being of any girl’s childhood fantasies. “They are among some of the most skilled weavers. They work their own spun silks to make some of the finest garments.” He watches quietly as they disperse. “It appears they just left the castle.”

  A strangler appears in front of us, a dainty female about the size of my hand with small, bare breasts and a flare of hips off which tiny ribbons flow behind her as her only form of covering. Her small body shimmers, radiating with a rosy light as if burning from a fire lit at the core of her body, where the light is the brightest. She flits in the air in front of us like a hummingbird as she sketches a quick bow before darting off after her brethren.

  My awe at the moment is overshadowed as I spot the towering palace rise up between the trees, resembling a mass of gnarled roots solidified together and overflowing with lush green life. It’s so magnificent that at first, I’m uncertain if it’s real or if I had stepped into a beautifully painted fantasy landscape. I’ve never seen colors so lush and vivid despite the long shadows of the woods. A heavy palette of lavender, silver, and rose hues amid sparkling ruby and amethyst would be the obvious favorite of any artist who attempts to capture this sight.

  I swallow nervously and wish we were back in Cavek’s comfortable den in the heavy roots of the ancient tree. I shouldn’t have let him talk me into this. I only just arrived this morning. Summons from the palace be damned. After all, I’m still trying to get used to being in Ov’Gorg, much less the Middling Way Kingdom. The idea of meeting the queen—and my lover’s mother—is rather terrifying. I clutch CJ closer to me, his tiny body wriggling in protest even in his slumber.

  Cavek seems to notice because he frowns at me with concern.

  “Do not worry. Everything will be fine. My mother is very eager to meet you.”

  I find that hard to believe, but Serus decides to back him up.

  “What Cavek says is true,” he airily agrees from just behind us where Boukie comfortably sits on his shoulders surveying our new home. “Mother has been waiting many years for the day Cavek brings home a female. She has been quite vocal.”

  “Nagging, launching into inspirational song, arranging for theatrical performances on the grandeur of love, sometimes downright threatening,” Cavek says with a shudder.

  Serus grins at his brother, clearly amused by his discomfort.

  “Do not worry, Kate. I assure you she is quite happy,” Serus finishes with a satisfied melodic hum.

  I nearly jump out of my skin when the heavily armed guards at either side of the entrance step forward. At first, I think they mean to attack, but they bow instead and step aside, allowing us to pass.

  Inside, the halls are lit with sconces filled with a sort of mystic blue fire. I’m not sure how much the trolls need that light as I observe Cavek and Serus’s eyes illuminate with an eerie glow, but I’m grateful for them or else I would be stumbling around the palace near-blind in the dim, natural light. Despite their attempts at offering comforting and reassuring words, my apprehension doesn’t let up even a little as Cavek steers into the throne room.

  To my relief, the throne room appears empty when we arrive. This is short-lived when suddenly a large, plump female of a brilliant hue of green with wild, dark lavender hair pops up in front of us, a horrifying shriek issuing from her wide, smiling mouth. That obviously friendly smile is the only thing that doesn’t have me bolting for the door. That, and Cavek’s iron grip on my arm.

  “You are here,” she trills as her thick arms wrap around me and she hugs me to her large bosom. The clouds of bright pink silk pool around her with her movements and obscure most of my vision. The contrast between her coloring and the silk is if someone took a lime-green gummy bear and dipped it in Pepto-Bismol. CJ whimpers in between us and she sets me down with a rapt look of fawning adoration.

  “A trollbie!” she exclaims, relieving me of my son before my brain catches up to what she intended to do. She hugs him to her, almost shaking with happiness. “Finally, a baby in the palace again. All these years I’ve been telling my children that I need babies in the palace. I’m not getting any younger. But do you think any of them listen to me? Of course not. You’d think I was asking them to throw themselves into the swamp with stones in their pockets if I so much as mention mates and trollbies,” she says with a firm shake of her head. “He is so precious. What did you name him?”

  “Cavekji,” I say slowly, hoping that I am pronouncing the troll variation of his name correctly. By the way Cavek’s lips tilt up with pride, I’m guessing that I nailed it.

  “Oh, what a perfect name!” She levels Serus with a hard look. “See? How hard is it, Serus, for you to provide me with a trollbie? Your brother was only with Kate once and managed to make a beautiful son and acquire a daughter. Hello, dear little Boukie. What a fine trollbie you will make. Where are all of your children, Serus? You and your mate have had plenty of time.”

  Her face brightens as she turns to address me again. “Where are my manners? I am Madi, but Mother suits me better. I am so very happy Cavek has found a mate at last! But you are too small. You must eat more.”

  The queen is nothing short of a living whirlwind. I stare at her with the kind of awestruck shock that someone feels watching a four-car pile-up on the highway. It’s all I can even think to do. I work my mouth wordlessly as she breezes by, heading out the room with my babies. CJ is in one arm, and she holds Boukie’s hand as my daughter chatters up at her.

  “I dreamed Cavek came,” Boukie announces as she looks up, enthralled with Madi. I can tell even from a distance that the female looks suitably impressed.

  “Is that so!”

  It’s hard to tell if Madi is saying that for Boukie’s benefit or if she’s being earnest, but my little girl beams with pleasure.

  “I did. I always, always dreamed he came.”

  “Well, that is something very special,” Madi praised, but I lost the rest of the conversation as Cavek drew me back beside him and nuzzled my neck affectionately. Heat fills me so suddenly I’m surprised that my bones don’t start melting on the spot.

  “Don’t worry about the trollbies!” she suddenly yells without even looking back at us. “I have them well in hand. You two go spend some time together and... reconnect. I will bring the children by in a little while.” I can almost hear the pleased smile in her voice.

  “Cavek, make sure she gets plenty to eat,” she adds. “You are a large troll and we don’t want you breaking her when inspired with your male lusts.”

  Serus chuckles and gives Cavek a playful nudge with his shoulder as he passes, trailing behind the queen.

  “Yes, do be careful of those male lusts, brother,” he taunts.


  “Well,” I say slowly, stifling a giggle, “that meeting was ... something.”

  I feel Cavek laugh against my skin.

  “I fear that Mother gets a little overexcited at times and has a very strong opinion on everything, even if she wields it in a manner that can embarrass her children from time to time.”

  Now that I have had a moment to absorb what happened, I find myself smiling. I can’t help but like the overt honesty of the queen. There’s nothing demure, quiet or even anything in the range of what humans consider polite. It’s refreshing. She obviously absolutely adores both children, despite Boukie not being of any blood relation.

  “I think that’s great, even if it’s a bit overwhelming. I didn’t think she would embrace Boukie so quickly,” I admit.

  Cavek raises one thick lavender eyebrow and his lips curl.

  “Trolls are not quite as xenophobic as some species. We easily adopt offspring into our families. Those we adopt are no different in our eyes than any other trollbie and are just as loved. As far as Mother is concerned, Boukie is just another trollbie she can spoil,” he says with a laugh. “Do not worry. I doubt she will even put Cavekji down the entire time we are gone, nor will Boukie set foot out of her sight.”

  I am a bit concerned, but between Madi’s enthusiasm and Cavek’s endorsement I feel a little better about the idea of leaving my children with her for some adult time. In any case, there’s obviously a palace full of guards and servants on hand if my children need anything at all. I never thought I would be the kind of person who had servants around, but this goes a long way to allay my fears of having my children out of my sight for even a short time.

  My mouth dries as the humor in Cavek’s eyes dies down almost as quickly as it sprung, and it is replaced with a scorching heat just seconds before his lips crash down upon my own. My senses reel and I feel completely off-kilter as I’m suffused with the scent and taste of him. When he finally pulls away, I have to grip his arm to steady myself, my breath coming out in ragged pants.

  “What was that?” I whisper a bit louder than I intended.

  He grins down at me, his eyes sparkling playfully.

  “That was just a taste of what is in store for you. But first, come, Kate. Let’s abscond to our home and dine in what privacy we can find together for this little time that we have alone.”

  Even though a blush spreads across my cheeks at the suggestion, I’m totally on board. My libido, silent for a year, suddenly roars to life with keen interest.

  Yes, I can definitely use some private time with Cavek before the mommy duties return.

  “Well, what are we waiting for? Onward home,” I say, my lips curving enticingly. His guttural growl lets me know the feeling is mutual. I’m almost quaking with excitement as we follow the path that leads to Cavek’s den.

  Chapter 11

  Kate

  My hand rests in Cavek’s as he leads me in the approximate direction of his home, but we follow a different network of paths that seems a bit less direct than the scenic swamp route we took to get to the palace. This time, he leads me into the darker depths of the forest where the ethereal glow from the luminous vine and flowers are the only source of light. The little motes of pollen drift on the breeze, gleaming as they up the light every now and again.

  I can’t deny it’s pretty romantic.

  He leads me onto a bridge. Just below me, I see a shimmering pond thick with lotus blooms, brimming with a pale purple light at their centers that shines through the translucent petals. Pixies skip over the lotuses like dragonflies, their wings creating a soft singing hum in the air.

  Cavek leans forward and whispers, “The pixies consume nectar much like bees. I have heard that in most ancient times in Ov’Ge, some called them nymphai and said it was due to how they hover over water like bees. Of all the flowers, they prefer that of the immortal lotus.”

  “That’s amazing,” I reply in a hushed tone, not wishing to disturb the industry of the pixies. Some of them stop to chase playfully after each other before resuming their task.

  “Do they live in hives like bees?”

  “Not hives exactly, but they build complex networks high in the trees in various hollows. Pixies have a rather complicated social system. They are matriarchal, the females being larger and brighter than the smaller male pixies who keep the nests and protect them in their larger numbers. You can always spot a mated pixie because she never goes anywhere without the escort of her mates. Ah, there are some males there, accompanying their female.”

  I lean into him, relishing the warmth and scent of his body as I look to where he points and see four smaller blue and white lights dance protectively around the larger brilliant orange light of a female pixie as she gathers the nectar.

  “They’re guarding her while she works,” I observe, enthralled.

  I watch their lights flicker and bounce as they move around her like a tiny swarm as their female moves from one flower to another.

  “Why do their lights flicker while her light remains constant?”

  Cavek’s hands skate down my belly, making heat curl and bloom inside of me. He breathes into my ear as he murmurs.

  “To warn off other males and to demonstrate to predators that they will defend her. The faster a male’s light blinks the stronger he is. On the longest day of the year, the males come to this pond and try to attract a queen for their nest, demonstrating in shows of flickering lights to impress the females.”

  His lips trail down from my ear and lightly kiss my neck, making my toes curl.

  “Will you bring me to see it?” I breathe, my voice already shaking with need.

  Cavek chuckles. “Of course. It isn’t proper for a child to witness the pixie orgies as the females accept their males, but adult trolls will often find secluded lotus patches near their own homes to enjoy the aphrodisiac effect of the pixie dust. We will be sure to do this.”

  My lips part with surprise. Who knew that something as seemingly innocent as pixies would be so X-rated? And who knew I would be so deviant as to be completely turned on by the idea of rolling in the grass with Cavek under the influence of pixie dust orgies?

  His lips unerringly find mine, and their sweet caress is just as I remember—but even better. I shudder. I can’t believe the words that are about to come out of my mouth.

  “Cavek, maybe we should slow down a bit. We rushed into things when we met, but it might be a good idea to take our time getting to know each other. Just give it a couple of days at least. We owe it to our children to work on building our relationship outside of great sex.”

  “Well, great sex was a good place to start,” Cavek says with a smutty grin that makes me laugh. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs, guilt flashing on his features. “You are right, Kate. I want to court you the proper way a troll courts his female. We didn’t get that opportunity.”

  He pauses and looks at me thoughtfully. “By tradition you would live with your mother until our courting finishes, but I don’t think I would survive being separated from you and the little ones. Although, we should find a ceremonial fostering family for you.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “Ceremonial fostering family?”

  He nods. “According to troll mating traditions, the females and males compete in contests of strength and agility, usually via fighting and dancing, to prove their worth to join their lines together.”

  I stare at him in shock. I’m not sure what surprises me more. The barbaric traditions—actually, that doesn’t really surprise me since we’re talking about trolls—or the fact that Cavek is already talking of mating in the same breath as courting. Like the future is already written.

  Is it just because of CJ? Although he has much to do with where we are finding ourselves now and trying to build a relationship, I don’t want someone to tie themselves to me just because of CJ. I want something real to build between us before we consider something that serious. He seems to note the aghast look on my face because he switches gears
quickly.

  “Come along, Kate. We’re nearly home. I am sure you must be hungry.”

  I murmur an agreement as we continue across the bridge and follow the path around to the den.

  CAVEK

  Kate stands beside me, silently helping me as we work together to prepare the evening meal. I had to instruct her with a few things that she is unfamiliar with, but the easy companionship is comfortable. Still, frustration twists in my gut.

  It is important to court her and develop our bonds, but I am frustrated that she doesn’t understand the ties between us. Orgath explained some of the frustration with being mated to a human, and high on that list is that they do not sense these things as denizens of Ov’Gorg do. Not all species have bloodbonded mates, but it’s common among the races of elves, trolls, and orcs, likely due to our close relation to each other. Other races have their own ways to identify a suitable mate without much difficulty when they find the right one.

  Among trolls, if we recognize our bloodbond we know, even through the courting period, it will eventually culminate in our mating. It is a near-certain thing, something celebrated by both families through the entire process. The courting is merely the essential bonding period. Of course, trolls still possess free will. We can choose not to bond or mate with our bloodbond, but few are willing to go that route.

  We sit together at the low orcish-style table that many trolls prefer. The craftsmanship of finely hewn orc tables is unparallel to most things outside of gem-inlaid stone tables crafted by dwarves. Although we have artisans among us, few trolls have the patience to meticulously craft such items as furniture, but we are happy to trade wood from our forests to make things for our pleasure.

  “This is a lovely table,” Kate remarks, running a hand along its surface, her fingers tracing the delicately carved flowers and knotted trees.

  My cock stiffens as my imagination conjures the image of her hand running over it.