by L. A. Boruff
I was dropped several feet from the raised platform, and I watched as a guard slid some steps in front of the throne.
“His Royal Highness King Ludwhomp III, Defender of the Isle, Regent of the Realm, Emperor—”
“Yes, yes, I do know who I am.” The king stood and came down the steps, and I had to bite my lip to stop the giggles from escaping. The booming voice had been replaced with a much higher voice that squeaked at the end. This was clearly the king, and he was tiny and so cute. He barely reached my hip, even with the heeled shoes he wore over his socks. His eyes were the green of all leplings, but he had no beard or moustache. His face was smooth and round, and his nose was like a button. Encircling the hat was a golden crown. It had been made for a considerably larger head than its current owner possessed and slipped down one side. He was evidently aware it was too big because he’d nudge it up, only for it to slide down again.
Fiach cleared his throat and indicated his mouth. I frowned at Fiach, wondering what he was doing when I heard the king mumble. I looked back and saw he was holding a disk up in front of his mouth. It looked like he was licking the lid of a jam jar.
“Do you know why you are here, human?” It boomed out, but then squeaked loudly at the end and I winced, covering my ears. It must have been more deafening for him, he jumped dropping the disk, and took a step backwards clutching his chest. A guard came to the rescue, retrieved the disk, and adjusted how close he held it to his mouth. I knew why he was using it, but it seemed meaningless now I knew he squeaked like a mouse.
Fiach struck me in the side, and I glared at him.
“You were spoken to, human.”
I stuck my tongue out at him and looked back at the king. “Yes, your majesty, I know why I am here. You hold my father prisoner.”
“Prisoner?” The king boomed. “He is most certainly not a prisoner. He’s a free lepling, just like the rest of us!”
“Then why did you drag him away and leave me a note saying you’d kill him if I didn’t hand myself over to you?”
“Oh, that!” The king waved a hand dismissively. He’d neglected to use the disk, and his voice was as squeaky as before. “I didn’t mean it. I read it in a story, and I’ve always wanted to try it. You presented me with the perfect opportunity.”
I stared at him. He’d dragged my poor father out of his house, frightened me, and all because he’d read it in a story and wanted to try it out? Was he unbalanced?
“Well, all is well, you’re here now. And it worked, exactly like in the story.” He beamed at me lifting the disk to his mouth. “Fiach!”
I clapped my hands over my ears as his voice thundered through the air.
“Here, Sire,” Fiach’s voice was faint, his own hands over his ears.
The king was looking at the disk with a stunned expression. “It’s a bit overdone, isn’t it?” He held it out to the closest guard. “Have someone look at it for me.”
“Your Majesty.” The guard made a hasty exit, and I was left wondering if they were all a bit mad. Except for my father, of course.
“Fiach? There you are!” He pointed at the lepling beside me. “Hurry off now and send Garbhan home.”
Fiach bowed and left the throne room through the door that guard had used.
The king climbed back up his steps and settled onto the throne.
“May I speak to my father, Your Majesty?” I asked, lifting myself up to try and see him.
“Human! I forgot the human!” He scrambled back down. “No, no time for things like that. Come with me.”
“Your Majesty, please, I just want to see my father,” I begged.
He waved a hand at me, screwing up his face. “This word father, it is a human word. Garbhan is not your father, human. You do know you’re not a leprechaun, don’t you?” He turned to one of the guards.” Surely, he would have told her she wasn’t a leprechaun, don’t you think?”
“I would imagine so, Sire. One would think a mirror would do the job just as well,” the guard replied.
“My thoughts exactly. Perhaps humans are not as intelligent as I am.”
“I don’t believe anyone is as intelligent as you, Your Majesty.”
“Good answer! Have the weekend off.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” The guard began to move towards the door.
“Not yet! It’s only Monday!” The king shrieked, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
The guard returned, looking slightly confused. I wanted to tell him that, it was Friday today, but I wasn’t sure how the king would react. Not well, I didn’t suppose.
The king looked back at me with a frown. “Well? I asked you a question, human.”
“I know I am not a leprechaun, like my fath— like Garbhan. But he raised me as if he were, and I love him as my father.”
“What an odd creature, you are.” He shook his head, pulling a face at me. “Oh, well, as long as you bring me brighter rainbows, I suppose it doesn’t matter what you are.”
“So you will let me see my father?” I asked hopefully. “I mean Garbhan, may I see Garbhan?”
He put his hands on his hips, giving me a stern look. “I already told you! No! Why do you ask again? If you’re simple-minded and don’t understand me, I shall demand you do not speak at all!”
Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to shed them in front of this nasty little lepling. My initial observation of him being cute was erased and replaced with obnoxious. I detested him. Hated him for taking away my father, hated him for hurting me, and I hated him for being so cruel. My father was never cruel, not to anyone or me. No, it must have just been this vile creature before me. And Fiach, he was cruel too.
“Come now, quickly.” He beckoned me to follow him, and I obeyed.
He’d won this round, but he wouldn’t win the game. If Jack was a man of his word, he’d take my father to safety. And if he didn’t make good on his promise to me, then so be it. I would remain here until I found a way to escape. But I was confident in Jack.
* * *
“What do you need?” King Ludwhomp scrutinized me from across the table. He had a small chair standing on another chair, enabling him to sit higher than his advisers seated around him.
“Need?”
“To bring me the gold you’ve brought your father.” He levelled his eyes at the lepling to his right. “I swear, they have no brain between their ears. No wonder they’re so big and hideous.”
A ripple of agreement went around the long rectangle table we were sitting at. There were four leplings sat on the right and four on the left. The king sat at the head of the table, his hands folded together on the surface. Every eye in the room, including the four guards, was on me. It was disconcerting, and I struggled to keep my head lifted. I just wanted to crawl under the table and hide. But I couldn’t do that.
“Well?” The closest lepling poked my bare arm with his quill, leaving a blue smear across my skin. “Answer His Majesty, human.”
“I have a name. It’s Maebh.”
“That’s not the question, you mumblehead,” another one said in disgust. “It is official, humans are brainless.”
“How are you going to get more gold for me?” The king banged his fist down.
I wasn’t naturally deceitful. As a small child, my father had instilled in me that being dishonest was not good or fair. But I wasn’t concerned about being fair or good here.
“I cannot tell you that,” I replied.
“Why not?” he squeaked, his face no longer smooth with the scowl he was wearing.
“It’s a secret,” I explained, hiding my crossed fingers in my lap. “If I say it out loud, the secret loses its magic.”
The leplings made noises of understanding, some of them bobbing their heads as if they’d thought as much.
“Of course, you can’t. I knew that.” The king sat back in his chair. “But do you need anything to help the magic work?”
This was my chance, and I had to make it work.
&nb
sp; “I need little, Your Majesty. Only access to your pots of gold.”
A collected intake of breath followed by murmurs of disbelief and outrage went around the room. But I kept my gaze on the King. He was the one I needed to convince.
“At night. It only works through the night.” I kept my face as stoic as I could.
He held my gaze, lifting his hand for silence from the rest of the leplings.
“On one condition—”
“Sire, no!”
The uproar from such diminutive creatures was deafening. The king’s squeaked command to be quiet was drowned out as they squabbled and shouted between themselves. They seemed to be split; half of them were backing the king, the other half was insistent that it was unlawful. The king was going puce trying to make himself heard, and in the end, I got fed up with the noise they made.
“Stop it! All of you!” I banged my fist on the table, and it made enough noise for them to freeze. The guards were on me in an instant, their spears ready to put down any danger I posed. “Our king is trying to talk to you, and you aren’t listening!” I spoke clearly and then sat down, thankful that the spears didn’t come any closer.
“The human is… could be... might be... not wrong,” the king conceded, looking peaky.
“We implore your pardon, Sire, but the shock was too much.” The lepling to his left inclined his head in respect.
“I have a condition, of course,” the king said.
“Which is?” I asked, as interested as them in this condition.
“I accompany you on these trips to my pots. I will sit with you while you work.”
Oh.
Thinking fast, I realised I would have no choice but to agree for now.
I accepted, and he nodded, pleased with the situation. The leplings, not so much. But it wasn’t them I worried about. It was how I was going to get out of this without losing any body parts.
* * *
I was given a night’s reprieve to rest myself. I needed this night to work out what I would do. I lay on my short bed, in a ball, huddled under sheets that were too small. It was a moonlit night. The pale light shone into the room with a beauty that would have filled me with awe were I not in such a predicament. I needed to stall for time, that much I knew. It was how I was going to do it.
My father’s gold had accumulated slowly as more customers came to him for his shoes. I hoped the king realised at least that my father hadn’t gained such good luck from me overnight. I could pretend to cast magic over his hat and explain it took time for the pots to be filled.
It was a plan that would allow me time to think of another plan.
A rustling noise in the corner of the room had me sitting up, peering into the shadows. “Who’s there?”
A familiar shape took form in the corner of the room and my heart flipped along with my stomach.
“Look out, look out,
Jack Frost is about,
he’s after your fingers and toes.
All through the night
the gay little sprite
is working where nobody knows.”
He tickled my toes, and I stuffed a hand over my mouth to stop my giggles from escaping.
He crawled onto the bed, and it gave an ominous creak. A giggle escaped, and his long cool fingers pressed against my lips. Leaning over me, he put his mouth close to my ear.
“To windows, he’ll creep.
and while you’re asleep
such wonderful pictures he’ll make.”
His breath washed over my ear and neck, and I shivered. He chuckled and moved to kneel beside the bed. “Your father sends his love and is looking forward to you joining him soon.”
“Jack!” I sat up, and the bed gave another creak. I had to be quiet, but I was so relieved that I flung my arms around his neck. “Where is he? Is he truly safe?”
“He’s in my kingdom, perfectly safe,” he assured me, whispering against the skin under my ear. “Have they treated you well? Are you unhurt?”
“I’m fine now you are here.” My lips brushed his neck where his shirt collar ended. He shuddered beneath my grip, his hold on my waist tightened. “Are you unhurt? Did you have trouble getting out of father’s hat?” I breathed his scent in deeply. It was a mixture of pines, smoky hearths, and crisp, clean snow. It made my head spin and whilst I knew it was affecting my allergies, his scent was such that I couldn’t seem to get enough.
“No, I am fine. You were gone when I got out, but I saw your note.” He pulled me off the bed and settled me on his lap. My legs straddled his, and I was facing him. His hair sparkled like a thousand crystals in the moonlight, his eyes darker than I’d seen before. I moved my hands to his shoulders as his fingers slid up the sides of my legs to my hips. I shuddered deeply as a toe-tingling shiver made the air rush from my lungs. I would need to move, to get away from him, but I didn’t want to. His thumbs traced patterns on my hips, his gaze holding mine, and I had no words. I had no name for this new affliction his touch was causing. But was it really an affliction when it felt so good? Could something that felt wonderful be bad for me?
Father always told me frosting was bad for my teeth, but it tasted amazing. With regret the answer was yes, it could still be an affliction even though it felt exciting.
“Tell me your thoughts, snowflake,” he whispered.
“Frosting,” I murmured, my fingertips itching to trace his dark eyebrows and his ears. They were like my father’s, pointed at the tip. Different from my own rounded, stunted ear. I wanted to touch the tip, to see if it was as sharp as it looked.
“Frosting?” One of his eyebrows lifted, and I gave in to temptation and stroked the tip of my finger over it. The silky feeling of the short dark hair was bliss beneath my fingertips.
His breathing hitched, and he drew in a sharp breath. I pulled my hand away. I should get off him, or he might catch my allergies.
He caught my hand, putting his other arm around my lower back and preventing me from leaving.
“I want to hear about this frosting you’re thinking of,” he murmured.
“It’s bad for me, for my teeth. Father said so.”
“He’s correct, human teeth are delicate and need care.”
“Yes, but you see, frosting is probably one of my favourite tastes. It’s so good.”
“I agree,” he replied.
“Then you’ll understand,” I said. “Just because something is nice, and we like it, doesn’t mean it’s good for us. I’m allergic, to you but even though I like the reactions it gives me, I know it’s not good for me.”
“Ah, I see.” He nodded. “What does your allergy feel like?”
“It produces the oddest sensations.” I moved my hand to my stomach. “I get funny fluttering feelings inside. And my cheeks grow hot when I see you, but I don’t have a fever. I feel excited, and my heart seems to…”
“Flip when you see me?” he asked.
“Yes.” I nodded.
“And do your insides clench when I touch you?” He put his hands back on my hips and smoothed circles into my skin.
“Yes,” I breathed out. “And it gets harder to breathe.”
“I know what you mean, Maebh, because I feel these things when I see you too.”
“Then you are allergic to me as well?” My heart sank. It wouldn’t be fair to continue our friendship once I was back with Father, not if he was suffering as well.
“Do you suffer allergies from anything else?” he asked. His fingertips were tracing circles over the material of my undershift. It was an unusual feeling which had me caught between moving away from his hands, and hoping he’d never stop. I confused myself.
“Maebh?” he prompted, and I realised I hadn’t answered his question.
“Oh, erm, only the marigold marsh if I pick it. The sap in the stems burns my skin.”
“Does your skin burn when I touch it?”
“Yes, yes, it does!” He had named the sensation that I had labelled as tingles. “It’s not
a bad burn.”
“Maebh, do you trust me?”
“Of course.” Why would he ask that?
“We’re not allergic to each other,” he murmured. “Quite the opposite, in fact. These feelings happen when two people care for each other greatly. Do you care for me?”
“Oh, I do!” I nodded, my fingers had found the hair on the back of his neck, and it was a soft as down. I slid my fingers through it, enjoying the feel against my skin.
“I care for you too, Maebh, I have done for a very long time,” he murmured. “Shall I tell you a secret?”
I nodded, hearing him say he cared for me created a lump in my throat and a fluttering sensation in my heart.
“I have rooms full of the boots your father makes for me.”
“What?” I was confused with the sudden change of subject.
“Your father makes excellent boots, Maebh. But if I only visited your father once every ten years, I’d never see you.”
“But you come each month through the winter.”
“I have done since you were sixteen and crept out from the curtain you hid behind.”
He knew I’d be there? All those years peeping at him?
“How did you know I was there?” I almost forgot to whisper.
“If you want to hide behind a curtain, my beautiful snowflake, you need to make sure your feet aren’t showing underneath.”
“Oh!” I slapped a hand over my mouth. All those years, all those customers, and they would all have known I was there. And then it clicked what he was saying. “You came for the boots just to see…” I faded out.
“You.” He nodded.
“I don’t understand.”
“Because you know nothing of the human world. I don’t know how much your father knows, but I’m inclined to think it’s not much. Do you remember how I told you there are no female leprechauns?”
I nodded, moving to play with his hair again through my fingers.
“Leprechauns don’t have children, and they don’t have the kind of feelings needed to bring children into the world.”
