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maderrIt actually wound up having very little in common with the tale upon which I drew, but eh. Is also quite simple, but I still like it.
And I already know the inevitable question and concede defeat now. Yes, I will write one for them too.
Giles held his brother close and glared at the troll over his shoulder. The thing was all manner of ugly and terrifying – dark brown skin covered in sores and boils, nasty teeth peeking out of thick, dark, wet lips, a fat nose and claws that boded only ill.
The bastard creature had hurt Hadley. True, it was only a slight cut on the cheek from a sharp bit of rock the Troll had lobbed, but still.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t stupid enough to avenge his little brother by going after the thing. Anyone who drew too close to the bridge wound up badly hurt. It was a wonder the foul creature hadn’t done worse to Hadley.
“Come now, Hadley, don’t cry so.”
Hadley only held a hand to the nick on his cheek and wailed loud enough for five three year olds. Giles cringed and hugged him more tightly, rubbing and soothing until Hadley calmed a bit. Putting a bit of space between them, he cleaned the blood with the end of his own shirt, then gave the tiny cut a quick peck. “There. All better now.”
“B-ball,” Hadley said plaintively, though he was obviously soothed by the kiss.
“Is that why you ran down this way?” Giles asked with a sigh. “Hadley, you mustn’t run off alone. What do I tell you?”
“Get Guy,” Hadley said guiltily, looking at his feet.
His poor, uncovered feet—Giles cut the thought off, knowing he could do nothing much about it right now. He would have proper shoes for them come autumn, that was all that mattered. “That’s right. Get Guy.” Giles reached out and tugged playfully at a lock of Hadley’s pale blonde hair. With age, it would probably darken, but right now it was still fine and pale. Blue eyes so like their mother’s had been stared into his, then Hadley nodded.
“Sorry, Guy,” Hadley muttered, dropping his eyes back to his feet.
Giles tilted his head up. “Go back home and it will be okay.”
“Yes, Guy,” Hadley replied, then obediently sprinted off.
Laughing, shaking his head in amusement, Giles started to follow him – but a soft thump stopped him. He turned around and looked for the Troll, sudden trepidation reminding him that even if the troll never left the bridge he so viciously guarded, he was still a threat – but nothing was there.
Except a sorry looking wooden ball that had cost Giles precious hours of sleep to carve for his little brothers. It wasn’t terribly even, or as smooth as he’d like, but it didn’t leave splinters and Hadley and Heath could play with it for hours.
How…?
Shaking his head, not daring to question whatever had happened, Giles scooped up the ball and slowly walked back toward the cabin.
He couldn’t help a long sigh as it came into view around the bend – tucked in a little valley just at the edge of the forest, two hours out of town, one hour from their nearest neighbors, too close to the Troll Bridge for peace of mind – or so everyone liked to tell him on his rare visits into town. They could all suck a wyrm egg for all he cared.
This was home…even if home was falling down around him because there just wasn’t enough time in the day to watch two children, find or make food, do laundry, chop firewood, make things for barter…and damn it to the hells he’d forgotten about the stew!
Sprinting across the field and around the ramshackle cabin, Giles breathed a long sigh of relief to see that all was well. Heavens above, someone had taken enough pity on him that nothing had caught ablaze.
The stew also smelled wonderful. Heavens willing it tasted as good as that smell promised. Once it was done cooking, he could keep it on the stove inside for days. If only he caught more rabbits like those…
Setting the useless thought aside, Giles returned to where he’d been hanging up the laundry he’d been laboring over all afternoon. He needed to figure out what was wrong with Heath, but it didn’t seem like anything more than a really bad cold and fever. At least the dragonebane and honey tonic seemed to be working…Which reminded him he needed to check on Heath soon, though he’d been sleeping so soundly all day Giles hated to risk waking him until dinner.
Repressing another sigh, he bent to hanging the wet clothes and blankets out on the rope he’d strung between two trees.
“Ball!” Hadley shrieked, laughing giddily as he scooped up the ball Giles had dropped nearby in his panic over the stew and forgotten about as chores and worries took him over. “Thanks, Guy!”
“You’re welcome,” Giles said automatically.
“Guy beat troll!” Hadley shouted in glee. “Brother beat troll!”
Giles dropped the blanket he’d been trying futilely to hang. “No! No, Hadley! I found it. Understand?”
Hadley nodded obediently but it was clear he wasn’t listening, and he abruptly bolted off to play with his ball, singing and chanting ‘Guy beat Troll!’
”Stay away from the creek!” Giles shouted after him, then dragged the heavy quilt to a clear bit of field to lay it out on the grass to dry. Thankfully, they didn’t have a lot of clothes between them and that chore was soon completed. Giles didn’t let himself pause, except to check on the stew again – it had been so much easier watching his mother and he wished he’d made better note but…
Telling himself sternly to stop moping, Giles pressed on, moving to the chopping block and hefting his ax. Wood chopping was hard labor, but he needed to do it where he could and make certain plenty was stocked up for when the weather turned foul. Especially as he really needed to set to work on catching and smoking all the meat he could…
He grunted as the ax hit, mechanically picking up the next piece of wood, setting it in place, and swinging. The rhythm continued as he steadily worked through the pile, pausing only to make certain Hadley hadn’t drawn too close and that he was still in sight. “Stay away from that creek or I’ll tan your hide, Hadley!”
“Yes, Guy,” filtered weakly across the valley, and Giles muttered an oath as he set down the ax and went to go fetch Hadley from another attempt at swimming. He’d just scooped Hadley up when the sound of a horse and carriage broke the relative quiet of the valley.
“Horse!” Hadley said, and squirmed free of Giles, then bolted off around the house to the front.
Giles thought enviously that it would be nice to have the energy of a three year old when it came to chores. Heavens above he hoped he kept them all alive long enough to really put that energy to use…
As he came around the house, Giles instantly recognized the horse and cart in the yard. A fine workhorse and quality cart, driven by a man handsome enough it hurt. They’d gone to school together, he and Brent. So very fine, with his curly blonde hair and bright brown eyes…and that flashing smile. “Brent, hail! What brings you here?”
“On my way to Henry’s house,” Brent said. “Thought I’d see if you wanted me to pick you up on the way back, we’ll be back in town just in time for the dance.”
“Dance?” Giles asked. “Is it that time already?” He wouldn’t cry, he wouldn’t cry. He had brothers to tend and wood to chop and the stew and Heath was sick. “I can’t make it, Brent, sorry. There’s too much to do and Heath is sick…”
Brent grimaced and motioned impatiently. “Giles, just bring them on in to town, let the womenfolk take care of them. It’s what they’re good at, and no one would mind too much, doing it for one night, not with all the other kids running around.”
Giles hated it. He wanted to play, to dance and flirt, drink Ms. Lain’s punch and…pretend he was a normal eighteen-year old boy. He couldn’t though. He’d promised mama and papa he’d take care of the twins should anything happen.
Something had happened. So he’d take care of them. That was the end of it.
“I can’t,” he said, hating the way Brent’s face closed down, dismissed him. “Heath is sick and I’ve got chores that can’t be put off.” He brightened as an idea came to him. “You could stay over, my chores will end with dark fall and we could relax once the twins…” He didn’t finish the sentence, seeing the disinterest on Brent’s face. “Then again, I wouldn’t want you catching what Heath’s got. Have a nice time at the dance, say hello to everyone…”
“Too bad,” Brent said with a shrug. “Guess I’ll have to spend the evening with Tommy, then.”
Giles watched as he drove out of the clearing, hands fisted tightly at his side, eyes burning with the effort not to cry because Hadley would get upset and it wasn’t Hadley’s fault.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault.
It just…was what it was.
“Guy?” Hadley asked plaintively.
Giles scooped his brother up, kissing him soundly on the cheek. “What say we go wake up your silly brother and tell him supper’s on?”
“Yay! Heat! Heat!” Hadley squirmed free and bolted for the house, struggling a moment with the door before scrambling inside.
Smiling, unable to help himself, Giles followed along more slowly.
Inside the cabin was simply arranged – a large main room with a fireplace, a small rickety table and four equally rickety chairs, and his mother’s good chair tucked in one corner. Beside that was the trunk full of spare blankets and his mother’s wedding dress. The rest of his parents’ clothes had been sacrificed for other things. A simple rag rug lay in front of the fireplace. Over the fireplace was a small loft, where he’d slept as a boy.
One room led off the main one. It had been his parents’ room, the big bed made by his father before Giles had been born. Now the twins slept there. He would, but he was always getting up early and staying up late, and didn’t want their sleep disrupted. When they were old enough not to hurt themselves, he’d move them up to the loft area.
Both twins were curled up together on the bed now, talking in eager, fervent whispers, and Giles was delighted to see how much more vibrant Heath seemed. Twin pale-blonde heads and cute faces that showed every sign of growing into their mother’s loveliness. Giles was much more their father, dark brown hair and eyes and more freckles than one person should be forced to have.
Not that he saw himself much anymore, he’d traded mama’s fancy looking glass for foodstuffs and things to fix up the cabin.
“Heath, how you feeling?”
“Better, Guy!” Heath chirped, holding out his arms for Giles to pick him up and hug. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Giles said, kissing both his cheeks and his nose, which always made Heath laugh. “Hungry?”
“Yes!” Both twins cried, and there was a flurry of arms and legs as they ran to do their simple dinner chores – getting out the wooden bowls and utensils from the little shelf beside the fire where they were always kept. Giles had put the shelf low enough for them to reach, knowing it made them happy to help.
“We’re eating outside,” he told them, smiling as they exclaimed delight and raced outside. “Heath! You be careful! Don’t want you sick again.”
“Yes, Guy!”
Outside, Giles worked to get them settled and eating, the stew not nearly as bad as he’d feared it would be. Edible enough for the twins, and he would improve as he continued to try it. With the stew done, he might even be able to scrape together enough time tomorrow to try his hand at bread…
Playful shrieking interrupted his thoughts, and Giles realized the twins were finished eating. “All right, boys. Bath time!”
The twins groaned, but obeyed, picking up their dishes and leading the way to the little creek near the house, down to where it widened a little bit. Their bathing spot, at least in fair weather. One day they’d be big enough they’d have time to help him with water for proper baths…
Shaking his head at himself, shoving the idle thoughts away, Giles set to the laborious task of keeping the twins focused on cleaning and off of catching frogs and pixies. Fighting a yawn, he guided them back to the cabin and in front of the fireplace, giving them the sad little wooden ball to play with while he got the fire going.
By the time they were dry enough to put in their nightclothes, the twins were dead on their feet. “Bed time,” Giles said, herding them gently to the back room and tucking them into bed, kissing their brows and softly bidding them goodnight. The twins murmured replies, asleep before they finished them. Giles smiled faintly and closed the door.
There was enough light to get a bit more work done – most of the clothes should be dry enough to bring inside and set by the fire, and he could do the mending once he had the stew taken care of, and he had the rabbit skins to finish preparing to take into town and barter…
But once he was outside, Giles’s feet carried him not to his chores but to the little clearing just past the tree line where two little wooden tablets marked the graves of his parents. He knelt on the ground and buried his fingers in the grass and dirt, bowing his head so his overlong-hair hid the hot tears that streaked down his cheeks.
Two years. Two years now since bandits had killed his parents on their way home from the City. Since the villagers had brought home the bodies. Hells he still wanted to kill them for that; what if the twins had seen? At least the villagers had been kind enough to help him bury them…probably the only genuine kindness anyone had shown his parents since his father had turned his nose up at them all and married his mother.
It wasn’t fair, part of him protested. It didn’t matter though. However much he might want to be with boys his own age, Heath and Hadley mattered more. They were his brothers, so unexpected after so many years, yet he’d been in love right from the start.
If only their parents…
Giles forced the useless thoughts away and said a soft prayer for his parents, then stood up and made his way back toward the house to finish his chores.
“Heath! Hadley!” Giles frowned as he received no reply, and swore furiously. Couldn’t they stay in sight long enough for him to finish working? He should have known, they’d been far too well-behaved during the berry picking…
Please say they’d stayed in the field at least. Honestly, he’d never met two little boys who could travel faster or father than the twins on an all-important three-old mission. And what sort of brother was he that they constantly slipped away from him?
Sighing, Giles covered the pie he’d been attempting with his shirt, having taken it off to keep it relatively clean while he made a mess baking, then sprinted around the house.
His heart sank to see the twins weren’t there, all too sure of where they’d gone. How did three year olds move so fast? Sprinting across the field, Giles turned the corner and bolted down the lane to where the troll bridge came into view.
Relief flooded through him to see them well away from the bridge – and the troll standing at the edge of it. But in the next second that relief turned into abject panic as he saw that Hadley was standing…Heath was on the ground. “Hadley! Heath!”
“Guy! Guy! Heat!” Hadley started to wail as he realized Giles was there, dropping to his knees to hold tight to Heath’s shirt, tears streaming down his face.
Giles dropped down beside him and looked at Heath. His face was pale…almost green in color. Never had he seen anything like it. This wasn’t the illness from which Heath had just recovered. He looked furiously up at the troll. “What did you do to him! What!”
“No troll,” Hadley said tearfully, and Giles almost didn’t hear him, eyes fastened on the vehement way the troll shook his head back and forth.
“What?” he said when the words finally registered. “Not the troll?”
Hadley sniffled and pointed to a nearby tree. “Tree bug.”
Giles blinked, then felt something cold and heavy settle in his stomach. Tree bug. A faerie. They almost never came out in the day time…the nasty little black critters were night creatures and preferred small rodents and such. Why had one been out and what had the twins accidentally done to provoke it?
There was no healer nearby. Giles fought tears and held Heath close, wishing he could figure out how to reassure Hadley when there was no reassurance whatsoever.
An odd grunting, growling sound brought his head up and Giles stared uncomprehendingly at the troll. It was motioning wildly, strangely… After a moment Giles realized it was motioning, pointing. Confused, he turned in the direction it seemed to be indicating.
Flowers. Pixie cups, they were called. Bright orange, shaped like tiny cups. He remembered the girls in school loved to pick them. So what? He looked at Heath, panic and anguish making his chest tight.
The troll howled and pointed again at the flowers. It snarled when Giles looked up at him, and pointed at the flowers over and over again…then at Heath, then back at the flowers.
Shakily, thoroughly confused but not having anything else to do, Giles strode over and picked the flowers. The troll grunted again, and he looked up. Again the troll pointed at the flowers, but this time he held up four fingers. Frowning, Giles picked four flowers, then looked again at the troll.
It nodded and then cupped his hands, miming drinking from them. It pointed at Heath, then the flowers, then mimed drinking again.
Giles gasped. “Tea! You want me to make tea!”
The troll nodded.
Heart pounding hard enough he felt it was going to beat out of his chest, Giles held fast to the flowers, scooped Heath up, then bolted back to the house as fast as he possibly could. Laying Heath out in front of the fireplace, he quickly set to work heating water, fetching a mug and bruising the flowers before dropping them in. When the water was hot but not quite boiling, he poured it into the mug.
The pixie cups had a startlingly sharp, bitter smell – and he bet it would taste no better. Gently he shook Heath awake, forcing him to sit up, holding him close. “Drink, Heath.”
“Icky,” Heath protested faintly after one sip.
“Drink it,” Giles said in the tone the twins knew meant no arguing. Obediently Heath obeyed, slowly sipping the tea. By the time he’d finished it and promptly gone back to sleep, his color had notably improved.
“Heat?” Hadley asked tearfully.
“Will be fine,” Giles said. He carried Heath into the bedroom and tucked him in, pressing a kiss to his brow. Hadley clambered up and curled against his brother, clinging tight. “Sorry, Guy.”
“When he’s better, you’re both in trouble,” Giles said sternly. Then he bent and kissed Hadley’s cheek. “Rest with him, all right? I’ll go finish making pie.”
“Yes, Guy. Love.”
“Love you too.”
Back outside, Giles slid to the ground and buried his face in his hands, relief making him shake hard enough standing just wasn’t possible.
He couldn’t do this. He didn’t have a choice.
Moving closer to town would solve a lot of problems, he knew that…but there was no way he’d let the twins grow up around the bastards who’d been so cold to his parents for so long. Having to barter with the townspeople was hard enough. No, he’d stay right where he was no matter how hard it got.
Heath was alive, that was all that mattered.
All because of the troll. How had the troll known pixie cups would heal a faerie bite? Giles had never heard that. Everyone he knew just went to the healer. A tea was all there was to it? Giles frowned.
He owed the troll a lot. Everything. The troll had saved his brother.
Slowly Giles stood, then crossed stiffly to where he’d left his shirt and pulled it back on, tugging absently on the laces as he once more crossed the field and made his way back toward the bridge.
The troll was gone.
Giles had figured it would be…but still, he wanted to express his gratitude, especially as his first reaction upon seeing Heath had been to accuse the troll of harming him. All the reminders in the world that the troll had hurt people in the past didn’t lessen the guilt he felt.
Hesitating, Giles finally sighed and gave up. He’d have to come up with some other way to thank the troll…maybe leave a gift? What did trolls like? Biting his lip, Giles at last decided that if he didn’t completely ruin the pies he was attempting, perhaps that would suffice. Nodding, decided, he began to hum softly as he went back to the house and resumed baking with renewed determination.
When all was done, the twins fed, cleaned, and put back to bed – with promises of severe punishment on the morrow – Giles finished his chores and then hesitantly picked up the second of the two pies he’d made. Wyvern berries, dark violet with a bright, tangy taste that went perfectly with a bit of honey. His mother had made them all the time; he remember spending what seemed like hours upon hours picking the berries, helping her bake, stealing a few berries dipped in honey, running off to hide behind his dad when she teasingly threatened him with her huge cooking spoon.
Blinking hard, Giles walked to the bridge, pausing only to pick two pixie cups. At the edge of the bridge he set the pie down and placed the two flowers on top. He waited to see if the troll would come – usually it appeared whenever someone got too close – but after several minutes he saw nothing but an owl land in a nearby tree.
Shrugging off his disappointment, for he really had wanted to express his gratitude in person, Giles turned to head back home. He’d taken maybe a dozen steps or so when he heard a faint scuffling sound, and turned hopefully—
The troll was on the bridge, staring down at the pie. Giles strode back toward him, but drew up short when the Troll jerked its head up to look at him, startled by the fact he could tell its eyes were a brilliant blue-green in the dark. They seemed to blaze, and Giles wondered that he’d never noticed them before. “Um…thank you. Heath…he’s better than ever. I…I’m sorry I yelled at you. I don’t know how you knew what to do to save him, but it really means everything. I wish I could do better than a silly pie.”
Stooping, the troll picked up the pie and then bared its teeth. A second later Giles realized it was trying to smile. He returned it, scrubbing a hand shyly through his hair. “It’s not enough, but I wanted to do something.” He shrugged, feeling awkward, not certain what to do now. It didn’t seem right to just walk away…
The troll abruptly sat down at the edge of the bridge, setting the pie down half on the bridge, half on the grass. He made a beckoning motion.
Giles hesitated a moment, but remembering Heath’s pallor and Hadley’s tears, the way both had been laughing and playing during their bath, he quickly strode back toward the bridge and stopped just short of it, slowly sitting down a couple of feet from the troll. “Thank you,” he repeated quietly.
The troll nodded and gave another gruesome, toothy smile. It really was quite ugly, even in the dark, but those almost glowing eyes were amazing. “Uh…my name is Giles,” he said, feeling stupid but not knowing what else to say. “Heath was the one who got bitten, Hadley is the other.” Not that it mattered, the troll didn’t care.
But he gave a nod, another brief smile. Then the troll frowned and cocked its head, pointing at Giles, then motioning above his head.
“What?” Giles asked, not understanding.
The troll huffed in frustration, then started motioning again, holding his hand low to the ground, then a bit higher – pointing at Giles – and higher still.
Giles frowned – then realization dawned. “My parents?” He shrugged when the troll nodded, looking at the ground and pulling restlessly at bits of grass. “They’re dead. Killed by bandits.” His throat felt thick, raw, to talk about it aloud since they’d been buried. “Two years ago.”
A strange, low rumbling sound broke into his miserable thoughts, and Giles looked at the troll in surprise when he realized the noise was coming from it. The bright eyes had darkened a bit, the toothy smile now a grotesque frown. A claw-tipped hand reached out toward him – then abruptly stopped and yanked his hand back.
The troll suddenly stood, the strange rumbling sound turned into a vicious, angry snarl. It snatched up the pie and then stalked to the center of the bridge – and was suddenly gone.
Giles stood staring for several minutes, feeling lost and…bereft. Sighing softly, he picked himself up and slowly headed back to the cabin.
If one more thing went wrong today, Giles was going to give in to the urge to sit down on the ground and start bawling. Nothing in his traps, dry goods were getting low, but he was too behind on the necessary chores to make time to go into town and he really didn’t want to force Heath on the long, tiring trip after his recent recovery from both illness and the faerie bite.
The twins were cranky for a reason Giles could not determine, it was hot and sticky enough that a storm was due any time…and he’d been so overeager to catch the hare he’d seen that he’d failed to pay full attention to his surroundings so now he’d have to go about everything with a twisted ankle.
Gritting his teeth, Giles hauled himself about the field and house, shouting at the twins to behave, growling more fiercely than he should when they didn’t listen as well as he wanted, sighing heavily when they began yet again to cry.
He could not do this.
Giving up for the time being, Giles limped to the cabin and struggled up the ladder to the loft, rifling briefly in the little chest he kept close to the edge and pulling out a bag of sweets. They’d been intended for the twins’ birthday, but today had been so wretched…he could get them something else, if he was careful with the rabbit skins he had for bartering. He wished he could get them a real cake like he’d once got…
Shaking his head, Giles slowly and painfully worked his way back down the ladder and outside. “Come here, Heath, Hadley.”
The twins shook their heads, frowning at him. “Guy troll.”
Giles’s shoulders sagged. “Guy is just tired. I’m very sorry. Please?”
Hesitating a moment longer, the twins eventually caved and came toward him, snuggling close when he knelt down to hug them. He kissed both their cheeks, then gave a piece of lemon candy to each of them – soft, easily chewed and swallowed, so they wouldn’t choke.
The twins cheered and eagerly accepted the candy, asking with wide, innocent eyes for more. “You can have another piece after dinner,” Giles told them, then ruffled their hair, smiling fondly. Better, but they still looked downcast. Giles thought over all the chores he had to do…and just gave up. “Hey, would you guys like to go to the pond?” He could take his pole, catch a few fish for dinner…
Again the twins cheered, mood immediately improved. Getting them ready to go was the first thing all day that didn’t prove to be a test of his patience, and barely twenty minutes later they were ready and setting off along the footpath to the pond…which took them right past the troll bridge, and Giles could not resist looking.
To his surprise, the troll was there – watching them calmly, his expression unreadable.
Except suddenly he frowned, and wandered closer, stopping at the edge of the bridge.
The twins huddled close as they saw the troll, clinging to Giles’ legs.
“Good afternoon,” Giles said hesitantly, offering a smile.
Growling low, the troll pointed at him – at his leg. The one with the twisted ankle.
“It’s fine,” Giles said. “I was trying to catch a hare…” He drifted off as the troll only rumbled louder, shaking its head furiously. “I’ll be all right, really…” Giles frowned, as disconcerted as he’d been yesterday.
Still growling, the troll pointed and made a stopping motion…Giles took it as an order not to move, and knelt to hug the twins close, soothing them. “Troll good, promise.”
He hoped he was right, and bit his lip as he anxiously watched the troll tromp across the bridge and mess with something he couldn’t see at the far edge. A few minutes later it came back, carrying a bunch of…something that looked like ivy. Giles had seen it around before, always vaguely admiring the little blue flowers scattered along the dark green leaves. What it was, he didn’t know. His knowledge of such things was limited to those his mother had thought pretty enough to remember their names and the few his father knew for fixing minor ailments.
The troll bundled the long length of vine in his hands and crushed it gently, then slowly untangled it and held it out. He pointed at Giles ankle, then set the vine in the grass just off the bridge, and pointed again at Giles before backing slowly away to the center of the bridge.
Giving the twins a last squeeze, soothing them quietly, Giles crossed the bridge and picked up the vine. The troll rumbled tugging at its own much-abused shirt, then mimed wrapping.
“Wrap my ankle with the vine.” When the troll shook its head and tugged at his shirt again, then pointed at the vine and his ankle, Giles tried again. “Vine and bandage?” The troll nodded.
He didn’t really have anything to bandage his ankle…but he’d been meaning to turn his present shirt into scrap soon anyway. It wasn’t much more than rags, and he had one of his dad’s left…
Shrugging, Giles pulled off his shirt and tore several strips from it, making the scraps into makeshift bandages, slowly wrapping first the vine and then the bandages around his throbbing ankle under the watchful eye and occasional rumble from the oddly intent troll.
When a low growl pronounced the deed satisfactorily done, Giles slowly stood up. His ankle…felt warm…almost tingly. It didn’t hurt. Giles stared, shaking his head in wonder, then looked up at the troll. “How do you know so much?”
The troll gave him an expression that could only be described as heart-wrenching. Giles didn’t know why they troll looked so sad, but it was a feeling he understood all too well. He reached out a hand -- the troll snarled and withdrew, leaping over the side as he reached the middle of the bridge.
Giles stared unhappily a moment longer, then slowly pulled his hand back, emotion confused and jumbled as he walked back to the twins and continued on their journey to the pond.
Much later that night, Giles was exhausted and happy so long as he did not think about how much further behind he was in his work. He wanted very much to crawl into bed and pretend he didn’t have to rise before the sun. Still, there was a debt to be paid…
Really he just wanted to see the troll again. How did a troll know so much about healing? Why did it care? Every story he’d ever heard told of the troll’s horrid temper, the awful way he drove away any who came too close to his bridge. Just days ago it had hurt Hadley for getting too close…though only a small nick, just enough to frighten him away…
Shaking his head, Giles picked up the last of the fish he’d roasted for dinner, fixed on a plate with a few slices of his own slightly-singed bread and the last of the pie. After a last check on the twins he took up the lantern he’d gotten down from the loft and made his way to the bridge.
Though he’d expected it to be empty, the troll was there – sitting on the railing and staring up at the sky. It was a cloudless night, the near-full moon and stars perfectly clear. It really was beautiful, and Giles wished he was more awake to enjoy it.
The troll jerked its head down at the sound of movement, and leaped neatly to the bridge as Giles drew close, stopping a couple of feet from the edge. Giles set the plate down and dipped his head in a deep nod. “Thank you,” he said. “My ankle still twinges, but it’s far better than I’d expected it to be for days, never mind hours.”
Blue-green eyes shone, and the troll gave one of his grins…and somehow it didn’t seem as gruesome, though Giles still did not like the look of those teeth. Slowly it drew closer and took the plate, grinning more widely than ever as it saw what was beneath.
Giles smiled. “It’s not much. My mother’s cooking lessons were never as interesting as other things to me, back then…I’ve gotten better though.”
The troll pointed at the bread, one of the singed pieces, and grinned, nodding. He lifted one hand and motioned wildly about.
Easy enough to figure out. “Smoke? Yeah, I burned a lot at first. Thankfully the twins don’t remember. How did you…I guess it smelled pretty awful, though.”
The troll made a low, rumbling sound that Giles realized was a laugh, nodding in agreement with his words.
Giles rubbed the back of his head and smiled sheepishly. “At least I’ve improved.”
Still grinning, the troll made quick work of the meal and carefully slid the plate back to him, bobbing his head in thanks.
“I owe you a lot more than a couple of simple meals,” Giles said with a shrug. “Thanks to you, Heath is alive. I’ll also be able to do all my work tomorrow, but Heath is what matters. I…do you have a name? It doesn’t seem right to just call you ‘troll’.”
The troll stared at him, and after a moment Giles realized it was surprised. Then it pointed, and after a few attempts Giles realized it wanted a nearby bit of rock. Sliding it onto the bridge, more curious than ever to know why the troll was always on it and no one else was permitted, Giles waited impatiently as it scratched something out on the wood with the soft, grayish stone.
“Kenzie,” he said, squinting hard and long at the letters in the light of the lantern. “You’re name is Kenzie?”
Nodding eagerly, the troll sketched a clumsy half bow.
Giles smiled and returned it. “Nice to meet you, Kenzie. Thank you for everything.”
The troll smiled back.
All that had kept Giles from completely giving up some days was the mule his father had obtained not long before his parents had taken that last trip to the city. If Giles’ only choice had been to walk to town, twins in tow, he wasn’t sure he would have ever made it. Most days the mule spent in a little clearing near the cabin. When the weather was foul, there was a little lean-to turned stable that sufficed, or would until Giles had time to build a proper stable.
The mule never seemed to mind, at any rate, and having it to carry the twins and the goods was all that made going to town to barter possible.
All in all it had been a good day. The twins were in a fine mood, the townspeople so far had been civil, and he’d made good trades at the general store with enough left to purchase proper leather with which to make shoes for the twins. He smiled and ruffled their hair as he loaded up the last of the goods, tweaking their noses and then pulling two pieces of candy from his pockets. “Good boys,” he said, laughing when they cheered and thanked him before gobbling down the candy.
“Giles.”
Giles stiffened and did not turn around, merely undid the mule’s reins from the post and led it away from the store. “Brent,” he said shortly, forcing himself to walk away at a steady, relaxed pace.
Brent didn’t come after him.
To his surprise, Giles realized he didn’t care. He and Brent had always been close in school, and for a little while after…but never so close anyone would ever find out the sort of person Brent really liked kissing, and Brent hadn’t been among those who’d brought his parents’ bodies. Brent hadn’t come by once to offer his sympathies, had not started reappearing until only six months or so ago.
It no longer mattered, not a bit.
In fact, very little bothered him anymore. He was always tired, always worn…but less lonely, less alone.
Giles laughed softly, imagining the reactions of the starchy villagers if he told them he was friends with the troll on the bridge. “You boys good?”
“Good, Guy!”
“Home!”
“Yes, home will be good,” Giles agreed, and sang an old folksong his father had always sung during their trips to town. He did it absently though, mind preoccupied with what he’d have to do at home…and on seeing Kenzie, showing him the things he’d obtained, the small jug of mead he’d bargained hard to get. If he’d learned one thing from his mother, it was bartering.
The trip home was long, two steady hours and the sun just beginning to set by the time they reached the cabin. It took him three hours to get the goods put away, the mule tended, the twins fed and cleaned – luckily, the trip had worn them out and they were almost asleep before he could get them into their nightclothes. Kissing their brows and tucking them in, Giles quietly set about tidying up the main room, washing himself down a bit to clear away the worst of the travel grime and wake himself up a bit.
Tugging on a clean shirt, Giles smoothed his hair out as best he could, then fetched the jug of mead and a slice of the meat pie he’d made the day before, humming a soft tune learned from his mother as he went to see Kenzie.
“Guy! Guy!”
Giles immediately stopped swinging his ax, burying the blade in the tree stump where he cut wood and pulling a scrap from his belt to wipe sweat from his face as the twins came running up with stricken, frightened expressions on their faces.
He wondered if they’d accidentally choked a poor pixie to death again – and if they’d gone near the creek again…
“Troll, Guy!” Heath wailed, looking close to crying.
Hadley nodded anxiously. “Hurt!”
Giles frowned. “The troll wouldn’t hurt you, boys.”
The twins glared. “People hurt troll!”
“What?” Giles demanded, temporarily ignoring the fact the twins had yet again left the yard. “Villagers? You boys stay here, all right?”
They nodded, and Giles sprinted off, calling over his shoulder for them to behave. How had he not heard anyone traveling by the cabin? Then again, he’d been working well away and—shaking the thoughts off, Giles turned the corner and ran for the bridge.
Sure enough.
Brent’s cart and three horses besides, perhaps a half dozen men all told. He could hear Kenzie snarling, keeping them away from the bridge as best he could.
“Here now!” Giles said angrily. “What are you lot doing?”
They all stopped at the sound of his voice, and turned as one to watch as he drew close and then inserted himself between them and the troll. “Giles, what in blazes? Get away from that nasty thing.”
“You get away,” Giles snarled. “You don’t need this bridge, go across the one by the miller.” Brent glared at him, stalking forward, and Giles shoved him angrily back. “Go away, leave him alone.”
“You’ve gone mad, Giles. I told you living out here was unhealthy.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Giles snapped. “You’ve upset my brothers and you’re hurting my friend. There are other bridges; you had no reason to come to this one when you knew crossing it wasn’t possible.”
“We’re going up to the harbor city,” Brent snapped. “Going by way of the miller would cost us hours. This is the quickest – and safest – route and I’m tired of that nasty monster—”
Giles’ temper snapped, and his fist flew before he’d known he was going to swing, catching Brent hard in the jaw, making his hand hurt something fierce. He wasn’t sorry though, and glared mutinously. “I don’t take kindly to people maligning what belongs to me. You just go back home now.”
“You’re just like your father,” another villager said contemptuously. “Saw what that got—”
The villager never finished, as Giles saw red and threw himself at the bastard. Everything turned into a blur then, interspersed with flashes of pain, and the next thing Giles really knew he was laying on the grass moaning, head feeling as though it had been split open and he thought his lip or something must be bleeding ‘cause it felt wet and sticky.
A low, rumbling sound broke into his pain-hazed thoughts and he saw the troll looking at him in concern, blue-green eyes dark with worry. Giles attempted a smile, ignoring how much it hurt, trying and failing to pick himself up. “I’ll be okay.”
“Some friend, so eager to help he just sits there.” Brent sneered. “That’ll teach you, Giles.”
“It teaches me why my parents preferred living closer to a troll than the village,” Giles said quietly. “It teaches me how much of my time really was wasted with you behind the school house.”
Brent glared nastily, though a guilty flush stained his cheeks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I guess not,” Giles said. “Go away, all of you. I’m not letting you hurt a friend, even if that means getting hurt myself.” He hurt like blazes, and thinking of all the work he had yet to do made him feel sick. Still, his father would never have tolerated such things. He wouldn’t act like a coward, especially when he had to be the example for Heath and Hadley.
He tried again to stand, but a sharp growl from the troll made it clear he wasn’t supposed to do that. Laughing weakly, Giles finally forced himself to his knees, breathing heavily.
“Guy! Guy!”
Everyone stilled as the twins came bolting toward him, tears mingling with dirt on their faces, sobbing hysterically as they threw themselves into his arms. He hugged them tight, kissing the tops of their heads. “I told you to stay at the house,” he said sternly, but didn’t stop soothing them. Holding them tight, letting them cry, he looked up just in time to see one of the men heft and throw a dagger.
Shouting a protest, he jerked away from the twins and threw himself at Kenzie, whose attention was on them and not the villagers. He knocked hard against the troll, felt a deep, searing pain in his shoulders, followed by a great deal of shouting.
Then nothing.
Giles jerked awake with a start, immediately regretting the movement, hissing in pain and clutching at his right shoulder.
When the pain had subsided to a tolerable throb, he finally took in his surroundings. He was in the cabin. In bed. The twins were curled up on either side of him, all but dead they were so deeply asleep. The tracks of dried tears stained their faces, and he gently stroked their hair.
Everything came rushing back to him then, and Giles wondered anxiously what had happened – but another attempt to move only woke every single ache and pain in his body, reminding him quite forcibly that he’d been beaten and then taken a knife to the shoulder.
By the hells, how was he going to take care of Heath and Hadley now? What had happened to Kenzie? Had the villagers killed him after Giles had passed out? Biting back a panicked sob, Giles struggled to get free of the twins and out of bed, but everything hurt.
The sound of the door creaking open stopped him, and Giles looked up fully prepared to attack a villager with questions and threats – and stopped short.
A man stood in the doorway. He looked a few years older, though not many, dressed in clothes that Giles recognized as some of his own. They’d always been a bit big on him; they fit the stranger perfectly. He had the tall, broad-shouldered build of someone who spent a great deal of time at hard labor, with a deep tan from hours in the sun. His hair was black, overlong and tied loosely back…and brilliant blue-green eyes. Not remarkably handsome, and his nose had a slightly squashed look to it, but…something about him…Giles felt better just looking at him. Like some deep ache was instantly soothed.
“You shouldn’t be moving,” the man said quietly, striding toward him and carefully sitting on the edge of the bed. He held a small bowl in his hand, filled with some sort of dark brown liquid. “I’m glad you’re awake though, that’s a good sign and it’ll be easier to make you drink this.” He smiled as he held the bowl out. “It tastes awful, but it will help fix you right up.”
Not knowing what else to do, Giles took the bowl and gingerly sipped the liquid. He grimaced, recoiling. “What?”
“I won’t tell you what’s in it,” the man said with a chuckle. “I promise its healing effects are as good as the taste is foul. Best to drink it quickly.”
Giles did as told, willing to try anything if it would reduce his pain, and swiftly gulped down the brew. He handed the bowl back and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He gestured to the twins. “Are they all right?”
“They’re fine. Probably won’t let you out of their sight for a good month or two, but I guess that might solve the problem of their always running off.” The man winked and set the bowl aside. “I gave them a bit of faerie moss and ogre grass tea, to help them sleep. They needed it. Probably won’t wake for hours yet.” He smiled softly and reached out to brush a strand of hair from Hadley’s cheek.
“Who are you?” Giles blurted, unable to stand it any longer. “Your eyes—” He bit his lip, looking at the faded quilt his mother had worked on since she was young just to put on her marriage bed. He felt stupid, there was no way this man was Kenzie, it wasn’t possible.
“Giles,” the man said softly, and something about the way he said it made Giles look up, stare into those beautiful eyes. “It’s me, you’re not mistaken.”
“How?” Giles whispered. “You’re a troll.”
Kenzie sighed softly, sadly. “No. Once upon a time I was a healer. I fell in love with a mercenary, and when he asked me to travel with him I said yes. One day, we met up with a band of gypsies… my lover got into an argument with one of them, and it turned ugly. I barely remember the details anymore, but we’d been camping near the bridge and the argument started right upon it. The woman who led the gypsy troupe was furious…I no longer recall how I got tangled up in the argument, but the gypsy woman was enraged. I remember she wanted to know why I took his side, and I said because I loved him, believed in him. That made her laugh, and ask if my feelings were truly reciprocated. I said of course they were and she laughed again. The next thing I knew I was a troll and bound to the bridge. She told my lover that to free me, all he had to do was take my place – walk upon the bridge and become the troll in my place.”
Giles swallowed, unable to believe what he was hearing, dreading the end.
Pain and bitterness clouded Kenzie’s eyes. “I never would have let him, but he didn’t even offer, just said he was sorry, that he couldn’t, that he’d come back with another way. Obviously he never did.
“Why did the gypsies leave you? Why didn’t she turn you back?”
Kenzie shook his head. “Perhaps she thought I deserved it, for siding with a man who obviously was not what I’d always thought him to be.”
“That isn’t fair!” Giles burst out, shaking with anger. “You were the good one, the loyal one! Why were you punished and he got away with everything?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Kenzie said, but he smiled softly. “I am more interested in the fact that we are both quite human. The gypsy woman was not as cruel as she seemed; the curse obviously was nothing more than a test…” He abruptly stopped and looked away, cheeks stained pink.
Giles blinked, confused – then realization dawned. The gypsy had made the curse to test whether or not the mercenary really loved Kenzie. That realization triggered another and he felt his own cheeks heat, but that didn’t stop him from reaching out and clumsily taking Kenzie’s hand. “You—even when you were a troll, you made me happy. The only person that’s really made me so since my parents died. Even before that, I never had any real friends. I—I would have taken your place.” He dropped his eyes to the blanket when Kenzie turned to look at him, not feeling brave enough to see what may or may not be in his face.
The hand in his tightened, and another tilted his face up, cupping his cheek. “I wouldn’t have let you.”
“I would have done it anyway,” Giles said, and swallowed. “You would have done the same for me.”
“Yes,” Kenzie said. “That and more. I’ve watched you for years, my feelings changing as you grew. Having you as a friend these past weeks has made me as happy as it has miserable. I never thought…”
Giles reached up and covered the hand over his cheek with his own. “So…” He drifted off, having no idea what to say or do now, uncertain as to what the next step was. Somewhere during the conversation his pain had eased, allowing his head to clear, though now it was only a confused, fluttering jumble of emotions.
Then Kenzie ended the matter by leaning in, tugging him gently forward at the same time, and covering his mouth with a soft kiss that nevertheless burned hotter and deeper than any of the guilty, sloppy ones Brent had given him what seemed ages ago behind the schoolhouse. Kenzie was warm, and smelled like the field, and the arm that wrapped around Giles’ shoulders hinted at a strength he found reassuring, steadying. The way he’d touched Hadley said he obviously cared for the twins, and Giles felt the knots of tension in him ease for the first time since he’d realized his parents were dead.
“Kenzie…” he said softly when they finally broke apart, looking into those blue-green eyes, wanting never to look away. “Is it too soon to ask if you’ll stay?”
“I cannot imagine ever leaving,” Kenzie replied, then grinned suddenly. “Besides, the trouble the twins get up to, you need a healer around here something fierce.”
Giles laughed, near to bursting with happiness when he realized he finally had someone to laugh with again, and still smiling tugged Kenzie back for another kiss.
And I already know the inevitable question and concede defeat now. Yes, I will write one for them too.
The Troll
Giles held his brother close and glared at the troll over his shoulder. The thing was all manner of ugly and terrifying – dark brown skin covered in sores and boils, nasty teeth peeking out of thick, dark, wet lips, a fat nose and claws that boded only ill.
The bastard creature had hurt Hadley. True, it was only a slight cut on the cheek from a sharp bit of rock the Troll had lobbed, but still.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t stupid enough to avenge his little brother by going after the thing. Anyone who drew too close to the bridge wound up badly hurt. It was a wonder the foul creature hadn’t done worse to Hadley.
“Come now, Hadley, don’t cry so.”
Hadley only held a hand to the nick on his cheek and wailed loud enough for five three year olds. Giles cringed and hugged him more tightly, rubbing and soothing until Hadley calmed a bit. Putting a bit of space between them, he cleaned the blood with the end of his own shirt, then gave the tiny cut a quick peck. “There. All better now.”
“B-ball,” Hadley said plaintively, though he was obviously soothed by the kiss.
“Is that why you ran down this way?” Giles asked with a sigh. “Hadley, you mustn’t run off alone. What do I tell you?”
“Get Guy,” Hadley said guiltily, looking at his feet.
His poor, uncovered feet—Giles cut the thought off, knowing he could do nothing much about it right now. He would have proper shoes for them come autumn, that was all that mattered. “That’s right. Get Guy.” Giles reached out and tugged playfully at a lock of Hadley’s pale blonde hair. With age, it would probably darken, but right now it was still fine and pale. Blue eyes so like their mother’s had been stared into his, then Hadley nodded.
“Sorry, Guy,” Hadley muttered, dropping his eyes back to his feet.
Giles tilted his head up. “Go back home and it will be okay.”
“Yes, Guy,” Hadley replied, then obediently sprinted off.
Laughing, shaking his head in amusement, Giles started to follow him – but a soft thump stopped him. He turned around and looked for the Troll, sudden trepidation reminding him that even if the troll never left the bridge he so viciously guarded, he was still a threat – but nothing was there.
Except a sorry looking wooden ball that had cost Giles precious hours of sleep to carve for his little brothers. It wasn’t terribly even, or as smooth as he’d like, but it didn’t leave splinters and Hadley and Heath could play with it for hours.
How…?
Shaking his head, not daring to question whatever had happened, Giles scooped up the ball and slowly walked back toward the cabin.
He couldn’t help a long sigh as it came into view around the bend – tucked in a little valley just at the edge of the forest, two hours out of town, one hour from their nearest neighbors, too close to the Troll Bridge for peace of mind – or so everyone liked to tell him on his rare visits into town. They could all suck a wyrm egg for all he cared.
This was home…even if home was falling down around him because there just wasn’t enough time in the day to watch two children, find or make food, do laundry, chop firewood, make things for barter…and damn it to the hells he’d forgotten about the stew!
Sprinting across the field and around the ramshackle cabin, Giles breathed a long sigh of relief to see that all was well. Heavens above, someone had taken enough pity on him that nothing had caught ablaze.
The stew also smelled wonderful. Heavens willing it tasted as good as that smell promised. Once it was done cooking, he could keep it on the stove inside for days. If only he caught more rabbits like those…
Setting the useless thought aside, Giles returned to where he’d been hanging up the laundry he’d been laboring over all afternoon. He needed to figure out what was wrong with Heath, but it didn’t seem like anything more than a really bad cold and fever. At least the dragonebane and honey tonic seemed to be working…Which reminded him he needed to check on Heath soon, though he’d been sleeping so soundly all day Giles hated to risk waking him until dinner.
Repressing another sigh, he bent to hanging the wet clothes and blankets out on the rope he’d strung between two trees.
“Ball!” Hadley shrieked, laughing giddily as he scooped up the ball Giles had dropped nearby in his panic over the stew and forgotten about as chores and worries took him over. “Thanks, Guy!”
“You’re welcome,” Giles said automatically.
“Guy beat troll!” Hadley shouted in glee. “Brother beat troll!”
Giles dropped the blanket he’d been trying futilely to hang. “No! No, Hadley! I found it. Understand?”
Hadley nodded obediently but it was clear he wasn’t listening, and he abruptly bolted off to play with his ball, singing and chanting ‘Guy beat Troll!’
”Stay away from the creek!” Giles shouted after him, then dragged the heavy quilt to a clear bit of field to lay it out on the grass to dry. Thankfully, they didn’t have a lot of clothes between them and that chore was soon completed. Giles didn’t let himself pause, except to check on the stew again – it had been so much easier watching his mother and he wished he’d made better note but…
Telling himself sternly to stop moping, Giles pressed on, moving to the chopping block and hefting his ax. Wood chopping was hard labor, but he needed to do it where he could and make certain plenty was stocked up for when the weather turned foul. Especially as he really needed to set to work on catching and smoking all the meat he could…
He grunted as the ax hit, mechanically picking up the next piece of wood, setting it in place, and swinging. The rhythm continued as he steadily worked through the pile, pausing only to make certain Hadley hadn’t drawn too close and that he was still in sight. “Stay away from that creek or I’ll tan your hide, Hadley!”
“Yes, Guy,” filtered weakly across the valley, and Giles muttered an oath as he set down the ax and went to go fetch Hadley from another attempt at swimming. He’d just scooped Hadley up when the sound of a horse and carriage broke the relative quiet of the valley.
“Horse!” Hadley said, and squirmed free of Giles, then bolted off around the house to the front.
Giles thought enviously that it would be nice to have the energy of a three year old when it came to chores. Heavens above he hoped he kept them all alive long enough to really put that energy to use…
As he came around the house, Giles instantly recognized the horse and cart in the yard. A fine workhorse and quality cart, driven by a man handsome enough it hurt. They’d gone to school together, he and Brent. So very fine, with his curly blonde hair and bright brown eyes…and that flashing smile. “Brent, hail! What brings you here?”
“On my way to Henry’s house,” Brent said. “Thought I’d see if you wanted me to pick you up on the way back, we’ll be back in town just in time for the dance.”
“Dance?” Giles asked. “Is it that time already?” He wouldn’t cry, he wouldn’t cry. He had brothers to tend and wood to chop and the stew and Heath was sick. “I can’t make it, Brent, sorry. There’s too much to do and Heath is sick…”
Brent grimaced and motioned impatiently. “Giles, just bring them on in to town, let the womenfolk take care of them. It’s what they’re good at, and no one would mind too much, doing it for one night, not with all the other kids running around.”
Giles hated it. He wanted to play, to dance and flirt, drink Ms. Lain’s punch and…pretend he was a normal eighteen-year old boy. He couldn’t though. He’d promised mama and papa he’d take care of the twins should anything happen.
Something had happened. So he’d take care of them. That was the end of it.
“I can’t,” he said, hating the way Brent’s face closed down, dismissed him. “Heath is sick and I’ve got chores that can’t be put off.” He brightened as an idea came to him. “You could stay over, my chores will end with dark fall and we could relax once the twins…” He didn’t finish the sentence, seeing the disinterest on Brent’s face. “Then again, I wouldn’t want you catching what Heath’s got. Have a nice time at the dance, say hello to everyone…”
“Too bad,” Brent said with a shrug. “Guess I’ll have to spend the evening with Tommy, then.”
Giles watched as he drove out of the clearing, hands fisted tightly at his side, eyes burning with the effort not to cry because Hadley would get upset and it wasn’t Hadley’s fault.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault.
It just…was what it was.
“Guy?” Hadley asked plaintively.
Giles scooped his brother up, kissing him soundly on the cheek. “What say we go wake up your silly brother and tell him supper’s on?”
“Yay! Heat! Heat!” Hadley squirmed free and bolted for the house, struggling a moment with the door before scrambling inside.
Smiling, unable to help himself, Giles followed along more slowly.
Inside the cabin was simply arranged – a large main room with a fireplace, a small rickety table and four equally rickety chairs, and his mother’s good chair tucked in one corner. Beside that was the trunk full of spare blankets and his mother’s wedding dress. The rest of his parents’ clothes had been sacrificed for other things. A simple rag rug lay in front of the fireplace. Over the fireplace was a small loft, where he’d slept as a boy.
One room led off the main one. It had been his parents’ room, the big bed made by his father before Giles had been born. Now the twins slept there. He would, but he was always getting up early and staying up late, and didn’t want their sleep disrupted. When they were old enough not to hurt themselves, he’d move them up to the loft area.
Both twins were curled up together on the bed now, talking in eager, fervent whispers, and Giles was delighted to see how much more vibrant Heath seemed. Twin pale-blonde heads and cute faces that showed every sign of growing into their mother’s loveliness. Giles was much more their father, dark brown hair and eyes and more freckles than one person should be forced to have.
Not that he saw himself much anymore, he’d traded mama’s fancy looking glass for foodstuffs and things to fix up the cabin.
“Heath, how you feeling?”
“Better, Guy!” Heath chirped, holding out his arms for Giles to pick him up and hug. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Giles said, kissing both his cheeks and his nose, which always made Heath laugh. “Hungry?”
“Yes!” Both twins cried, and there was a flurry of arms and legs as they ran to do their simple dinner chores – getting out the wooden bowls and utensils from the little shelf beside the fire where they were always kept. Giles had put the shelf low enough for them to reach, knowing it made them happy to help.
“We’re eating outside,” he told them, smiling as they exclaimed delight and raced outside. “Heath! You be careful! Don’t want you sick again.”
“Yes, Guy!”
Outside, Giles worked to get them settled and eating, the stew not nearly as bad as he’d feared it would be. Edible enough for the twins, and he would improve as he continued to try it. With the stew done, he might even be able to scrape together enough time tomorrow to try his hand at bread…
Playful shrieking interrupted his thoughts, and Giles realized the twins were finished eating. “All right, boys. Bath time!”
The twins groaned, but obeyed, picking up their dishes and leading the way to the little creek near the house, down to where it widened a little bit. Their bathing spot, at least in fair weather. One day they’d be big enough they’d have time to help him with water for proper baths…
Shaking his head at himself, shoving the idle thoughts away, Giles set to the laborious task of keeping the twins focused on cleaning and off of catching frogs and pixies. Fighting a yawn, he guided them back to the cabin and in front of the fireplace, giving them the sad little wooden ball to play with while he got the fire going.
By the time they were dry enough to put in their nightclothes, the twins were dead on their feet. “Bed time,” Giles said, herding them gently to the back room and tucking them into bed, kissing their brows and softly bidding them goodnight. The twins murmured replies, asleep before they finished them. Giles smiled faintly and closed the door.
There was enough light to get a bit more work done – most of the clothes should be dry enough to bring inside and set by the fire, and he could do the mending once he had the stew taken care of, and he had the rabbit skins to finish preparing to take into town and barter…
But once he was outside, Giles’s feet carried him not to his chores but to the little clearing just past the tree line where two little wooden tablets marked the graves of his parents. He knelt on the ground and buried his fingers in the grass and dirt, bowing his head so his overlong-hair hid the hot tears that streaked down his cheeks.
Two years. Two years now since bandits had killed his parents on their way home from the City. Since the villagers had brought home the bodies. Hells he still wanted to kill them for that; what if the twins had seen? At least the villagers had been kind enough to help him bury them…probably the only genuine kindness anyone had shown his parents since his father had turned his nose up at them all and married his mother.
It wasn’t fair, part of him protested. It didn’t matter though. However much he might want to be with boys his own age, Heath and Hadley mattered more. They were his brothers, so unexpected after so many years, yet he’d been in love right from the start.
If only their parents…
Giles forced the useless thoughts away and said a soft prayer for his parents, then stood up and made his way back toward the house to finish his chores.
“Heath! Hadley!” Giles frowned as he received no reply, and swore furiously. Couldn’t they stay in sight long enough for him to finish working? He should have known, they’d been far too well-behaved during the berry picking…
Please say they’d stayed in the field at least. Honestly, he’d never met two little boys who could travel faster or father than the twins on an all-important three-old mission. And what sort of brother was he that they constantly slipped away from him?
Sighing, Giles covered the pie he’d been attempting with his shirt, having taken it off to keep it relatively clean while he made a mess baking, then sprinted around the house.
His heart sank to see the twins weren’t there, all too sure of where they’d gone. How did three year olds move so fast? Sprinting across the field, Giles turned the corner and bolted down the lane to where the troll bridge came into view.
Relief flooded through him to see them well away from the bridge – and the troll standing at the edge of it. But in the next second that relief turned into abject panic as he saw that Hadley was standing…Heath was on the ground. “Hadley! Heath!”
“Guy! Guy! Heat!” Hadley started to wail as he realized Giles was there, dropping to his knees to hold tight to Heath’s shirt, tears streaming down his face.
Giles dropped down beside him and looked at Heath. His face was pale…almost green in color. Never had he seen anything like it. This wasn’t the illness from which Heath had just recovered. He looked furiously up at the troll. “What did you do to him! What!”
“No troll,” Hadley said tearfully, and Giles almost didn’t hear him, eyes fastened on the vehement way the troll shook his head back and forth.
“What?” he said when the words finally registered. “Not the troll?”
Hadley sniffled and pointed to a nearby tree. “Tree bug.”
Giles blinked, then felt something cold and heavy settle in his stomach. Tree bug. A faerie. They almost never came out in the day time…the nasty little black critters were night creatures and preferred small rodents and such. Why had one been out and what had the twins accidentally done to provoke it?
There was no healer nearby. Giles fought tears and held Heath close, wishing he could figure out how to reassure Hadley when there was no reassurance whatsoever.
An odd grunting, growling sound brought his head up and Giles stared uncomprehendingly at the troll. It was motioning wildly, strangely… After a moment Giles realized it was motioning, pointing. Confused, he turned in the direction it seemed to be indicating.
Flowers. Pixie cups, they were called. Bright orange, shaped like tiny cups. He remembered the girls in school loved to pick them. So what? He looked at Heath, panic and anguish making his chest tight.
The troll howled and pointed again at the flowers. It snarled when Giles looked up at him, and pointed at the flowers over and over again…then at Heath, then back at the flowers.
Shakily, thoroughly confused but not having anything else to do, Giles strode over and picked the flowers. The troll grunted again, and he looked up. Again the troll pointed at the flowers, but this time he held up four fingers. Frowning, Giles picked four flowers, then looked again at the troll.
It nodded and then cupped his hands, miming drinking from them. It pointed at Heath, then the flowers, then mimed drinking again.
Giles gasped. “Tea! You want me to make tea!”
The troll nodded.
Heart pounding hard enough he felt it was going to beat out of his chest, Giles held fast to the flowers, scooped Heath up, then bolted back to the house as fast as he possibly could. Laying Heath out in front of the fireplace, he quickly set to work heating water, fetching a mug and bruising the flowers before dropping them in. When the water was hot but not quite boiling, he poured it into the mug.
The pixie cups had a startlingly sharp, bitter smell – and he bet it would taste no better. Gently he shook Heath awake, forcing him to sit up, holding him close. “Drink, Heath.”
“Icky,” Heath protested faintly after one sip.
“Drink it,” Giles said in the tone the twins knew meant no arguing. Obediently Heath obeyed, slowly sipping the tea. By the time he’d finished it and promptly gone back to sleep, his color had notably improved.
“Heat?” Hadley asked tearfully.
“Will be fine,” Giles said. He carried Heath into the bedroom and tucked him in, pressing a kiss to his brow. Hadley clambered up and curled against his brother, clinging tight. “Sorry, Guy.”
“When he’s better, you’re both in trouble,” Giles said sternly. Then he bent and kissed Hadley’s cheek. “Rest with him, all right? I’ll go finish making pie.”
“Yes, Guy. Love.”
“Love you too.”
Back outside, Giles slid to the ground and buried his face in his hands, relief making him shake hard enough standing just wasn’t possible.
He couldn’t do this. He didn’t have a choice.
Moving closer to town would solve a lot of problems, he knew that…but there was no way he’d let the twins grow up around the bastards who’d been so cold to his parents for so long. Having to barter with the townspeople was hard enough. No, he’d stay right where he was no matter how hard it got.
Heath was alive, that was all that mattered.
All because of the troll. How had the troll known pixie cups would heal a faerie bite? Giles had never heard that. Everyone he knew just went to the healer. A tea was all there was to it? Giles frowned.
He owed the troll a lot. Everything. The troll had saved his brother.
Slowly Giles stood, then crossed stiffly to where he’d left his shirt and pulled it back on, tugging absently on the laces as he once more crossed the field and made his way back toward the bridge.
The troll was gone.
Giles had figured it would be…but still, he wanted to express his gratitude, especially as his first reaction upon seeing Heath had been to accuse the troll of harming him. All the reminders in the world that the troll had hurt people in the past didn’t lessen the guilt he felt.
Hesitating, Giles finally sighed and gave up. He’d have to come up with some other way to thank the troll…maybe leave a gift? What did trolls like? Biting his lip, Giles at last decided that if he didn’t completely ruin the pies he was attempting, perhaps that would suffice. Nodding, decided, he began to hum softly as he went back to the house and resumed baking with renewed determination.
When all was done, the twins fed, cleaned, and put back to bed – with promises of severe punishment on the morrow – Giles finished his chores and then hesitantly picked up the second of the two pies he’d made. Wyvern berries, dark violet with a bright, tangy taste that went perfectly with a bit of honey. His mother had made them all the time; he remember spending what seemed like hours upon hours picking the berries, helping her bake, stealing a few berries dipped in honey, running off to hide behind his dad when she teasingly threatened him with her huge cooking spoon.
Blinking hard, Giles walked to the bridge, pausing only to pick two pixie cups. At the edge of the bridge he set the pie down and placed the two flowers on top. He waited to see if the troll would come – usually it appeared whenever someone got too close – but after several minutes he saw nothing but an owl land in a nearby tree.
Shrugging off his disappointment, for he really had wanted to express his gratitude in person, Giles turned to head back home. He’d taken maybe a dozen steps or so when he heard a faint scuffling sound, and turned hopefully—
The troll was on the bridge, staring down at the pie. Giles strode back toward him, but drew up short when the Troll jerked its head up to look at him, startled by the fact he could tell its eyes were a brilliant blue-green in the dark. They seemed to blaze, and Giles wondered that he’d never noticed them before. “Um…thank you. Heath…he’s better than ever. I…I’m sorry I yelled at you. I don’t know how you knew what to do to save him, but it really means everything. I wish I could do better than a silly pie.”
Stooping, the troll picked up the pie and then bared its teeth. A second later Giles realized it was trying to smile. He returned it, scrubbing a hand shyly through his hair. “It’s not enough, but I wanted to do something.” He shrugged, feeling awkward, not certain what to do now. It didn’t seem right to just walk away…
The troll abruptly sat down at the edge of the bridge, setting the pie down half on the bridge, half on the grass. He made a beckoning motion.
Giles hesitated a moment, but remembering Heath’s pallor and Hadley’s tears, the way both had been laughing and playing during their bath, he quickly strode back toward the bridge and stopped just short of it, slowly sitting down a couple of feet from the troll. “Thank you,” he repeated quietly.
The troll nodded and gave another gruesome, toothy smile. It really was quite ugly, even in the dark, but those almost glowing eyes were amazing. “Uh…my name is Giles,” he said, feeling stupid but not knowing what else to say. “Heath was the one who got bitten, Hadley is the other.” Not that it mattered, the troll didn’t care.
But he gave a nod, another brief smile. Then the troll frowned and cocked its head, pointing at Giles, then motioning above his head.
“What?” Giles asked, not understanding.
The troll huffed in frustration, then started motioning again, holding his hand low to the ground, then a bit higher – pointing at Giles – and higher still.
Giles frowned – then realization dawned. “My parents?” He shrugged when the troll nodded, looking at the ground and pulling restlessly at bits of grass. “They’re dead. Killed by bandits.” His throat felt thick, raw, to talk about it aloud since they’d been buried. “Two years ago.”
A strange, low rumbling sound broke into his miserable thoughts, and Giles looked at the troll in surprise when he realized the noise was coming from it. The bright eyes had darkened a bit, the toothy smile now a grotesque frown. A claw-tipped hand reached out toward him – then abruptly stopped and yanked his hand back.
The troll suddenly stood, the strange rumbling sound turned into a vicious, angry snarl. It snatched up the pie and then stalked to the center of the bridge – and was suddenly gone.
Giles stood staring for several minutes, feeling lost and…bereft. Sighing softly, he picked himself up and slowly headed back to the cabin.
If one more thing went wrong today, Giles was going to give in to the urge to sit down on the ground and start bawling. Nothing in his traps, dry goods were getting low, but he was too behind on the necessary chores to make time to go into town and he really didn’t want to force Heath on the long, tiring trip after his recent recovery from both illness and the faerie bite.
The twins were cranky for a reason Giles could not determine, it was hot and sticky enough that a storm was due any time…and he’d been so overeager to catch the hare he’d seen that he’d failed to pay full attention to his surroundings so now he’d have to go about everything with a twisted ankle.
Gritting his teeth, Giles hauled himself about the field and house, shouting at the twins to behave, growling more fiercely than he should when they didn’t listen as well as he wanted, sighing heavily when they began yet again to cry.
He could not do this.
Giving up for the time being, Giles limped to the cabin and struggled up the ladder to the loft, rifling briefly in the little chest he kept close to the edge and pulling out a bag of sweets. They’d been intended for the twins’ birthday, but today had been so wretched…he could get them something else, if he was careful with the rabbit skins he had for bartering. He wished he could get them a real cake like he’d once got…
Shaking his head, Giles slowly and painfully worked his way back down the ladder and outside. “Come here, Heath, Hadley.”
The twins shook their heads, frowning at him. “Guy troll.”
Giles’s shoulders sagged. “Guy is just tired. I’m very sorry. Please?”
Hesitating a moment longer, the twins eventually caved and came toward him, snuggling close when he knelt down to hug them. He kissed both their cheeks, then gave a piece of lemon candy to each of them – soft, easily chewed and swallowed, so they wouldn’t choke.
The twins cheered and eagerly accepted the candy, asking with wide, innocent eyes for more. “You can have another piece after dinner,” Giles told them, then ruffled their hair, smiling fondly. Better, but they still looked downcast. Giles thought over all the chores he had to do…and just gave up. “Hey, would you guys like to go to the pond?” He could take his pole, catch a few fish for dinner…
Again the twins cheered, mood immediately improved. Getting them ready to go was the first thing all day that didn’t prove to be a test of his patience, and barely twenty minutes later they were ready and setting off along the footpath to the pond…which took them right past the troll bridge, and Giles could not resist looking.
To his surprise, the troll was there – watching them calmly, his expression unreadable.
Except suddenly he frowned, and wandered closer, stopping at the edge of the bridge.
The twins huddled close as they saw the troll, clinging to Giles’ legs.
“Good afternoon,” Giles said hesitantly, offering a smile.
Growling low, the troll pointed at him – at his leg. The one with the twisted ankle.
“It’s fine,” Giles said. “I was trying to catch a hare…” He drifted off as the troll only rumbled louder, shaking its head furiously. “I’ll be all right, really…” Giles frowned, as disconcerted as he’d been yesterday.
Still growling, the troll pointed and made a stopping motion…Giles took it as an order not to move, and knelt to hug the twins close, soothing them. “Troll good, promise.”
He hoped he was right, and bit his lip as he anxiously watched the troll tromp across the bridge and mess with something he couldn’t see at the far edge. A few minutes later it came back, carrying a bunch of…something that looked like ivy. Giles had seen it around before, always vaguely admiring the little blue flowers scattered along the dark green leaves. What it was, he didn’t know. His knowledge of such things was limited to those his mother had thought pretty enough to remember their names and the few his father knew for fixing minor ailments.
The troll bundled the long length of vine in his hands and crushed it gently, then slowly untangled it and held it out. He pointed at Giles ankle, then set the vine in the grass just off the bridge, and pointed again at Giles before backing slowly away to the center of the bridge.
Giving the twins a last squeeze, soothing them quietly, Giles crossed the bridge and picked up the vine. The troll rumbled tugging at its own much-abused shirt, then mimed wrapping.
“Wrap my ankle with the vine.” When the troll shook its head and tugged at his shirt again, then pointed at the vine and his ankle, Giles tried again. “Vine and bandage?” The troll nodded.
He didn’t really have anything to bandage his ankle…but he’d been meaning to turn his present shirt into scrap soon anyway. It wasn’t much more than rags, and he had one of his dad’s left…
Shrugging, Giles pulled off his shirt and tore several strips from it, making the scraps into makeshift bandages, slowly wrapping first the vine and then the bandages around his throbbing ankle under the watchful eye and occasional rumble from the oddly intent troll.
When a low growl pronounced the deed satisfactorily done, Giles slowly stood up. His ankle…felt warm…almost tingly. It didn’t hurt. Giles stared, shaking his head in wonder, then looked up at the troll. “How do you know so much?”
The troll gave him an expression that could only be described as heart-wrenching. Giles didn’t know why they troll looked so sad, but it was a feeling he understood all too well. He reached out a hand -- the troll snarled and withdrew, leaping over the side as he reached the middle of the bridge.
Giles stared unhappily a moment longer, then slowly pulled his hand back, emotion confused and jumbled as he walked back to the twins and continued on their journey to the pond.
Much later that night, Giles was exhausted and happy so long as he did not think about how much further behind he was in his work. He wanted very much to crawl into bed and pretend he didn’t have to rise before the sun. Still, there was a debt to be paid…
Really he just wanted to see the troll again. How did a troll know so much about healing? Why did it care? Every story he’d ever heard told of the troll’s horrid temper, the awful way he drove away any who came too close to his bridge. Just days ago it had hurt Hadley for getting too close…though only a small nick, just enough to frighten him away…
Shaking his head, Giles picked up the last of the fish he’d roasted for dinner, fixed on a plate with a few slices of his own slightly-singed bread and the last of the pie. After a last check on the twins he took up the lantern he’d gotten down from the loft and made his way to the bridge.
Though he’d expected it to be empty, the troll was there – sitting on the railing and staring up at the sky. It was a cloudless night, the near-full moon and stars perfectly clear. It really was beautiful, and Giles wished he was more awake to enjoy it.
The troll jerked its head down at the sound of movement, and leaped neatly to the bridge as Giles drew close, stopping a couple of feet from the edge. Giles set the plate down and dipped his head in a deep nod. “Thank you,” he said. “My ankle still twinges, but it’s far better than I’d expected it to be for days, never mind hours.”
Blue-green eyes shone, and the troll gave one of his grins…and somehow it didn’t seem as gruesome, though Giles still did not like the look of those teeth. Slowly it drew closer and took the plate, grinning more widely than ever as it saw what was beneath.
Giles smiled. “It’s not much. My mother’s cooking lessons were never as interesting as other things to me, back then…I’ve gotten better though.”
The troll pointed at the bread, one of the singed pieces, and grinned, nodding. He lifted one hand and motioned wildly about.
Easy enough to figure out. “Smoke? Yeah, I burned a lot at first. Thankfully the twins don’t remember. How did you…I guess it smelled pretty awful, though.”
The troll made a low, rumbling sound that Giles realized was a laugh, nodding in agreement with his words.
Giles rubbed the back of his head and smiled sheepishly. “At least I’ve improved.”
Still grinning, the troll made quick work of the meal and carefully slid the plate back to him, bobbing his head in thanks.
“I owe you a lot more than a couple of simple meals,” Giles said with a shrug. “Thanks to you, Heath is alive. I’ll also be able to do all my work tomorrow, but Heath is what matters. I…do you have a name? It doesn’t seem right to just call you ‘troll’.”
The troll stared at him, and after a moment Giles realized it was surprised. Then it pointed, and after a few attempts Giles realized it wanted a nearby bit of rock. Sliding it onto the bridge, more curious than ever to know why the troll was always on it and no one else was permitted, Giles waited impatiently as it scratched something out on the wood with the soft, grayish stone.
“Kenzie,” he said, squinting hard and long at the letters in the light of the lantern. “You’re name is Kenzie?”
Nodding eagerly, the troll sketched a clumsy half bow.
Giles smiled and returned it. “Nice to meet you, Kenzie. Thank you for everything.”
The troll smiled back.
All that had kept Giles from completely giving up some days was the mule his father had obtained not long before his parents had taken that last trip to the city. If Giles’ only choice had been to walk to town, twins in tow, he wasn’t sure he would have ever made it. Most days the mule spent in a little clearing near the cabin. When the weather was foul, there was a little lean-to turned stable that sufficed, or would until Giles had time to build a proper stable.
The mule never seemed to mind, at any rate, and having it to carry the twins and the goods was all that made going to town to barter possible.
All in all it had been a good day. The twins were in a fine mood, the townspeople so far had been civil, and he’d made good trades at the general store with enough left to purchase proper leather with which to make shoes for the twins. He smiled and ruffled their hair as he loaded up the last of the goods, tweaking their noses and then pulling two pieces of candy from his pockets. “Good boys,” he said, laughing when they cheered and thanked him before gobbling down the candy.
“Giles.”
Giles stiffened and did not turn around, merely undid the mule’s reins from the post and led it away from the store. “Brent,” he said shortly, forcing himself to walk away at a steady, relaxed pace.
Brent didn’t come after him.
To his surprise, Giles realized he didn’t care. He and Brent had always been close in school, and for a little while after…but never so close anyone would ever find out the sort of person Brent really liked kissing, and Brent hadn’t been among those who’d brought his parents’ bodies. Brent hadn’t come by once to offer his sympathies, had not started reappearing until only six months or so ago.
It no longer mattered, not a bit.
In fact, very little bothered him anymore. He was always tired, always worn…but less lonely, less alone.
Giles laughed softly, imagining the reactions of the starchy villagers if he told them he was friends with the troll on the bridge. “You boys good?”
“Good, Guy!”
“Home!”
“Yes, home will be good,” Giles agreed, and sang an old folksong his father had always sung during their trips to town. He did it absently though, mind preoccupied with what he’d have to do at home…and on seeing Kenzie, showing him the things he’d obtained, the small jug of mead he’d bargained hard to get. If he’d learned one thing from his mother, it was bartering.
The trip home was long, two steady hours and the sun just beginning to set by the time they reached the cabin. It took him three hours to get the goods put away, the mule tended, the twins fed and cleaned – luckily, the trip had worn them out and they were almost asleep before he could get them into their nightclothes. Kissing their brows and tucking them in, Giles quietly set about tidying up the main room, washing himself down a bit to clear away the worst of the travel grime and wake himself up a bit.
Tugging on a clean shirt, Giles smoothed his hair out as best he could, then fetched the jug of mead and a slice of the meat pie he’d made the day before, humming a soft tune learned from his mother as he went to see Kenzie.
“Guy! Guy!”
Giles immediately stopped swinging his ax, burying the blade in the tree stump where he cut wood and pulling a scrap from his belt to wipe sweat from his face as the twins came running up with stricken, frightened expressions on their faces.
He wondered if they’d accidentally choked a poor pixie to death again – and if they’d gone near the creek again…
“Troll, Guy!” Heath wailed, looking close to crying.
Hadley nodded anxiously. “Hurt!”
Giles frowned. “The troll wouldn’t hurt you, boys.”
The twins glared. “People hurt troll!”
“What?” Giles demanded, temporarily ignoring the fact the twins had yet again left the yard. “Villagers? You boys stay here, all right?”
They nodded, and Giles sprinted off, calling over his shoulder for them to behave. How had he not heard anyone traveling by the cabin? Then again, he’d been working well away and—shaking the thoughts off, Giles turned the corner and ran for the bridge.
Sure enough.
Brent’s cart and three horses besides, perhaps a half dozen men all told. He could hear Kenzie snarling, keeping them away from the bridge as best he could.
“Here now!” Giles said angrily. “What are you lot doing?”
They all stopped at the sound of his voice, and turned as one to watch as he drew close and then inserted himself between them and the troll. “Giles, what in blazes? Get away from that nasty thing.”
“You get away,” Giles snarled. “You don’t need this bridge, go across the one by the miller.” Brent glared at him, stalking forward, and Giles shoved him angrily back. “Go away, leave him alone.”
“You’ve gone mad, Giles. I told you living out here was unhealthy.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Giles snapped. “You’ve upset my brothers and you’re hurting my friend. There are other bridges; you had no reason to come to this one when you knew crossing it wasn’t possible.”
“We’re going up to the harbor city,” Brent snapped. “Going by way of the miller would cost us hours. This is the quickest – and safest – route and I’m tired of that nasty monster—”
Giles’ temper snapped, and his fist flew before he’d known he was going to swing, catching Brent hard in the jaw, making his hand hurt something fierce. He wasn’t sorry though, and glared mutinously. “I don’t take kindly to people maligning what belongs to me. You just go back home now.”
“You’re just like your father,” another villager said contemptuously. “Saw what that got—”
The villager never finished, as Giles saw red and threw himself at the bastard. Everything turned into a blur then, interspersed with flashes of pain, and the next thing Giles really knew he was laying on the grass moaning, head feeling as though it had been split open and he thought his lip or something must be bleeding ‘cause it felt wet and sticky.
A low, rumbling sound broke into his pain-hazed thoughts and he saw the troll looking at him in concern, blue-green eyes dark with worry. Giles attempted a smile, ignoring how much it hurt, trying and failing to pick himself up. “I’ll be okay.”
“Some friend, so eager to help he just sits there.” Brent sneered. “That’ll teach you, Giles.”
“It teaches me why my parents preferred living closer to a troll than the village,” Giles said quietly. “It teaches me how much of my time really was wasted with you behind the school house.”
Brent glared nastily, though a guilty flush stained his cheeks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I guess not,” Giles said. “Go away, all of you. I’m not letting you hurt a friend, even if that means getting hurt myself.” He hurt like blazes, and thinking of all the work he had yet to do made him feel sick. Still, his father would never have tolerated such things. He wouldn’t act like a coward, especially when he had to be the example for Heath and Hadley.
He tried again to stand, but a sharp growl from the troll made it clear he wasn’t supposed to do that. Laughing weakly, Giles finally forced himself to his knees, breathing heavily.
“Guy! Guy!”
Everyone stilled as the twins came bolting toward him, tears mingling with dirt on their faces, sobbing hysterically as they threw themselves into his arms. He hugged them tight, kissing the tops of their heads. “I told you to stay at the house,” he said sternly, but didn’t stop soothing them. Holding them tight, letting them cry, he looked up just in time to see one of the men heft and throw a dagger.
Shouting a protest, he jerked away from the twins and threw himself at Kenzie, whose attention was on them and not the villagers. He knocked hard against the troll, felt a deep, searing pain in his shoulders, followed by a great deal of shouting.
Then nothing.
Giles jerked awake with a start, immediately regretting the movement, hissing in pain and clutching at his right shoulder.
When the pain had subsided to a tolerable throb, he finally took in his surroundings. He was in the cabin. In bed. The twins were curled up on either side of him, all but dead they were so deeply asleep. The tracks of dried tears stained their faces, and he gently stroked their hair.
Everything came rushing back to him then, and Giles wondered anxiously what had happened – but another attempt to move only woke every single ache and pain in his body, reminding him quite forcibly that he’d been beaten and then taken a knife to the shoulder.
By the hells, how was he going to take care of Heath and Hadley now? What had happened to Kenzie? Had the villagers killed him after Giles had passed out? Biting back a panicked sob, Giles struggled to get free of the twins and out of bed, but everything hurt.
The sound of the door creaking open stopped him, and Giles looked up fully prepared to attack a villager with questions and threats – and stopped short.
A man stood in the doorway. He looked a few years older, though not many, dressed in clothes that Giles recognized as some of his own. They’d always been a bit big on him; they fit the stranger perfectly. He had the tall, broad-shouldered build of someone who spent a great deal of time at hard labor, with a deep tan from hours in the sun. His hair was black, overlong and tied loosely back…and brilliant blue-green eyes. Not remarkably handsome, and his nose had a slightly squashed look to it, but…something about him…Giles felt better just looking at him. Like some deep ache was instantly soothed.
“You shouldn’t be moving,” the man said quietly, striding toward him and carefully sitting on the edge of the bed. He held a small bowl in his hand, filled with some sort of dark brown liquid. “I’m glad you’re awake though, that’s a good sign and it’ll be easier to make you drink this.” He smiled as he held the bowl out. “It tastes awful, but it will help fix you right up.”
Not knowing what else to do, Giles took the bowl and gingerly sipped the liquid. He grimaced, recoiling. “What?”
“I won’t tell you what’s in it,” the man said with a chuckle. “I promise its healing effects are as good as the taste is foul. Best to drink it quickly.”
Giles did as told, willing to try anything if it would reduce his pain, and swiftly gulped down the brew. He handed the bowl back and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He gestured to the twins. “Are they all right?”
“They’re fine. Probably won’t let you out of their sight for a good month or two, but I guess that might solve the problem of their always running off.” The man winked and set the bowl aside. “I gave them a bit of faerie moss and ogre grass tea, to help them sleep. They needed it. Probably won’t wake for hours yet.” He smiled softly and reached out to brush a strand of hair from Hadley’s cheek.
“Who are you?” Giles blurted, unable to stand it any longer. “Your eyes—” He bit his lip, looking at the faded quilt his mother had worked on since she was young just to put on her marriage bed. He felt stupid, there was no way this man was Kenzie, it wasn’t possible.
“Giles,” the man said softly, and something about the way he said it made Giles look up, stare into those beautiful eyes. “It’s me, you’re not mistaken.”
“How?” Giles whispered. “You’re a troll.”
Kenzie sighed softly, sadly. “No. Once upon a time I was a healer. I fell in love with a mercenary, and when he asked me to travel with him I said yes. One day, we met up with a band of gypsies… my lover got into an argument with one of them, and it turned ugly. I barely remember the details anymore, but we’d been camping near the bridge and the argument started right upon it. The woman who led the gypsy troupe was furious…I no longer recall how I got tangled up in the argument, but the gypsy woman was enraged. I remember she wanted to know why I took his side, and I said because I loved him, believed in him. That made her laugh, and ask if my feelings were truly reciprocated. I said of course they were and she laughed again. The next thing I knew I was a troll and bound to the bridge. She told my lover that to free me, all he had to do was take my place – walk upon the bridge and become the troll in my place.”
Giles swallowed, unable to believe what he was hearing, dreading the end.
Pain and bitterness clouded Kenzie’s eyes. “I never would have let him, but he didn’t even offer, just said he was sorry, that he couldn’t, that he’d come back with another way. Obviously he never did.
“Why did the gypsies leave you? Why didn’t she turn you back?”
Kenzie shook his head. “Perhaps she thought I deserved it, for siding with a man who obviously was not what I’d always thought him to be.”
“That isn’t fair!” Giles burst out, shaking with anger. “You were the good one, the loyal one! Why were you punished and he got away with everything?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Kenzie said, but he smiled softly. “I am more interested in the fact that we are both quite human. The gypsy woman was not as cruel as she seemed; the curse obviously was nothing more than a test…” He abruptly stopped and looked away, cheeks stained pink.
Giles blinked, confused – then realization dawned. The gypsy had made the curse to test whether or not the mercenary really loved Kenzie. That realization triggered another and he felt his own cheeks heat, but that didn’t stop him from reaching out and clumsily taking Kenzie’s hand. “You—even when you were a troll, you made me happy. The only person that’s really made me so since my parents died. Even before that, I never had any real friends. I—I would have taken your place.” He dropped his eyes to the blanket when Kenzie turned to look at him, not feeling brave enough to see what may or may not be in his face.
The hand in his tightened, and another tilted his face up, cupping his cheek. “I wouldn’t have let you.”
“I would have done it anyway,” Giles said, and swallowed. “You would have done the same for me.”
“Yes,” Kenzie said. “That and more. I’ve watched you for years, my feelings changing as you grew. Having you as a friend these past weeks has made me as happy as it has miserable. I never thought…”
Giles reached up and covered the hand over his cheek with his own. “So…” He drifted off, having no idea what to say or do now, uncertain as to what the next step was. Somewhere during the conversation his pain had eased, allowing his head to clear, though now it was only a confused, fluttering jumble of emotions.
Then Kenzie ended the matter by leaning in, tugging him gently forward at the same time, and covering his mouth with a soft kiss that nevertheless burned hotter and deeper than any of the guilty, sloppy ones Brent had given him what seemed ages ago behind the schoolhouse. Kenzie was warm, and smelled like the field, and the arm that wrapped around Giles’ shoulders hinted at a strength he found reassuring, steadying. The way he’d touched Hadley said he obviously cared for the twins, and Giles felt the knots of tension in him ease for the first time since he’d realized his parents were dead.
“Kenzie…” he said softly when they finally broke apart, looking into those blue-green eyes, wanting never to look away. “Is it too soon to ask if you’ll stay?”
“I cannot imagine ever leaving,” Kenzie replied, then grinned suddenly. “Besides, the trouble the twins get up to, you need a healer around here something fierce.”
Giles laughed, near to bursting with happiness when he realized he finally had someone to laugh with again, and still smiling tugged Kenzie back for another kiss.
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Date: 2007-02-24 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-24 09:13 pm (UTC)And the villagers suck something awful. At least Brent. Horrible little bastard. He sooo doesn't deserve anyone as nice as Giles, especially if he's not man enough to admit he wants him.
The twins were just adorable. ^_____^ I cannot wait to see what happens with them when they're older and I am sooo happy that Giles is getting help and a healer too. ^____^
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Date: 2007-02-24 09:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-24 09:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-24 09:47 pm (UTC)*tackle hearts* Oh, I love! Guiles, man, your heart just aches for him, what with his trying so hard and never seeming to keep up and always being that step behind.
The twins were cute as hell! XD
Yeah, they totally need a story. ^_^And I love how hard Guiles works to try and do right by them.Poor Kenzie. That's one heartbreaker of a curse. But, I suppose, good things come to those who wait. And he won't doubt Guiles' love for him. Still, I love the way he helps out with the healing and the pantomining he has to go through. ^_^
*hearts* You rock the world, and man do I ever love your fairytales. ^____^!!
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Date: 2007-02-24 11:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-24 11:06 pm (UTC)Heh. No worries. I kept doing the same thing, actually, because the twins call him 'guy' and all ^^;;
I am glad you liked, Sky <<<333
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Date: 2007-02-24 10:08 pm (UTC)And Kenzie? !!! Love him!
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Date: 2007-02-24 10:32 pm (UTC)Evil Brent. It sucked how he 'didn't remember' such things. =(
|Meduza|
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Date: 2007-02-24 10:50 pm (UTC)I love everything you've written. Your stuff was exactly what I was looking for: well-written original slash fantasy (and some sci-fi). I also adore the fact you write fairytale based stories. I've always loved it when people use those tales for inspiration.
Would you mind if I friend you? I'm not the best at commenting, but I will no doubt love everything you write even if I don't comment.
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Date: 2007-02-24 11:08 pm (UTC)I'm terrible about replying, so I obviously do not mind if you're not the best at commenting ^_~ Friend away! I'm always vaguely surprised when people ask, as I have no control over anything around here, as you have or soon will notice ^_^
Thank you for reading, I'm glad you enjoy. Fairytales are my weakness, they touch everything I write ^__^
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Date: 2007-02-25 01:06 am (UTC)I did notice a couple of grammar errory things. The first is Which reminded him he needed to check on Heath soon, though he’d been sleeping so soundly all day Giles hated to risk waking him until dinner. I think you're missing a 'that' between 'day' and 'Giles'. The second is the more siply 'you're' in place of 'your' in the sentence “You’re name is Kenzie?”
Much love!
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Date: 2007-02-25 01:59 am (UTC)I came for Geniuses, which is amazingly wonderful. It took a while for me to try reading your other stuff, and when I didn't, I didn't understand why I took so long to do it. You are an amazing writer, and I love everything.
That said, this is my absolute favorite thing you've written. I don't know why. I mean, it's the same quality as anything else you've written, and I can't even place the fairy tale (but it sounds familiar...). But I just love it. I would love see more of this little family.
Sorry. I'll stop being creepy now. Thanks for sharing, though.
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Date: 2007-02-25 02:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-25 03:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-25 03:59 am (UTC)Anyway, Giles and twinnies are teh love. Kenzie needs to kick brent's arse, the little bastard.I hope kenzie sneaks laxatives into the villagers ale supply or something *scowls*
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Date: 2007-02-25 05:34 am (UTC)But yay! Giles was sort of a tragic character through the beginning, but just had amazing strength of will, because he was working so hard, and had so much to do, but he refused to give up - and I'm rambling weirdly, apologies.
Adore Kenzie. So, I'm guessing he kept people away from the bridge out of worry they might become the troll in his place because of the curse? Would make sense. Kenzie is awesome. And it's so sweet, because you know without him saying that Giles really would have taken Kenzie's place if he'd known (as long as Kenzie would make sure the twins were taken care of, I suppose. And you equally know that Kenzie really never would have let him, and in fact had been making sure Giles never got too close and GAH they're wonderful.
And the twins? ADORABLE. I muchly look forward to the idea of this alleged future story featuring them. And surely, it needs must feature of big brother and, hmm, I wonder how Giles would have explained Kenzie to the twins?
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Date: 2007-02-25 06:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-25 07:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-25 03:30 pm (UTC)Please don't kill me.I sincerely hope you don't mind, it's my first time borrowing someone's original characters to play with. It's sort of Kenzie and Giles' first meeting. ^_^This is for you, a small token my appreciation for all your lovely stories and sharing them with us. Please comment on it, as
1. I did it within 5 hours or so,
2. didn't get anyone to beta it and
3. I write mainly fanfiction
and would love to hear from an accomplished writer like yourself.
So, enjoy my gift to you. ^_^
P.S. : I wanted to post it in the comment but LJ's comment is too short for the whole story (it was supposed to be a drabble but it somehow grew... ^^;;) and so I posted it on my journal and linked it to this comment.
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Date: 2007-02-25 08:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-26 08:24 pm (UTC)Whatever it is based upon, it is love! When Brent first showed up I thought I was mistaken in assuming that the troll would be Giles' eventual love. But then he was a jerk ('Guess I'll spend the evening with Tommy' or whatever. Big jerk.), so I was back to the troll. Poor thing. Gypsies, man. (As a weird aside, Maria and I are watching Buffy season 2, and with the name Giles and the Gypsy curse, its weird how it... I don't know, echoed. I know your not a fan of the vamps, but it was cool.)
Right, so, somewhere around here I was giving love for this fic. Sorry, easily distracted this afternoon. I wonder what happened when Kenzie turned back? Brent and them all standing around while this man, troll clothes sliding off him, catches Giles and chases them away. Awesome. Oh, and them realizing it's love, and saying 'I would have traded with you,' instead of 'I love you.' Eiee! So cute!
Hm, you know when people comment saying they'll come back when they are making sense. I so should have done that. Ah well...
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Date: 2007-02-27 11:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 05:25 pm (UTC)