Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
RAGNAR
Ragnar carried her to a stream where he helped clean her up. She would obviously be a little worn out after that, but he feared he had been too rough. With careful hands, he made sure to hold the cold water between her legs for as long as she would let him, before she laughed and batted his hands away.
This was new to him, though. He wasn’t sure how to... be together. He wasn’t sure how to do any of this now that they’d done... all that.
His mind had fractured the moment he’d felt the warmth of her surrounding him. She had been so tight, so slick, so ready for him, even though he had worried. And when he’d felt the sensation of sliding into her with those bars on his cock?
Nothing would ever be the same again. He would never survive another coupling like that, because he was certain his heart would burst. But he also wouldn’t survive not doing it again. Even now, looking at her splashing through a stream of icy water, he wanted her again. More. Longer. Deeper.
She’d taken six bars, though, and he was shocked at that. She was so small compared to him, and yet she’d taken so much of him on the first try.
He’d have to research if there was a way to make it easier for her. Perhaps there was an herb to take, or a drink Ragnar could make her, something that would make it easier for her body to accept him.
Because even now, even while she was far from him, he could feel the pain in her. His magic rose to the surface of his skin, reaching for her even though she was insistent that she could wash herself. There was something off. Something...
She moved her skirts just enough for him to see a flash of pale skin and bright blood smeared between her thighs.
“You’re hurt,” he said, splashing through the stream to get to her side.
“I feel fine,” she replied with a short laugh. But then he saw her hesitate when she noticed the blood. “Oh, well, that’s... You’re rather large.”
“You shouldn’t bleed after sex,” he snarled. Ragnar scooped her out of the water and walked with her to the stones on the other side. “It’s not natural to do so. If I hurt you, you’re supposed to tell me.”
“You didn’t hurt me.”
“I thought we had gotten over this. I am not owed your silence or your suffering. You argue with me, tell me what to do. If you are injured, you tell me. These are things we’ve already had conversations about.” He set her down on the stones and then cupped her mound. “Now stop talking and let me heal you.”
“I don’t need healing!”
But she stopped talking, and let his magic do the trick. Her wounds were entirely superficial, he realized as soon as his magic was able to crawl through her body. None of it was life threatening, and he certainly hadn’t hurt her enough that she wouldn’t be able to walk. Still, blood after sex terrified him. He didn’t want to cause her injury. In the heat of passion, he’d forgotten all the things that he had to keep in mind. She was small, her skin was easy to break, he could bruise her if he wasn’t careful.
Maia cupped his jaw with both of her hands, pulling him forward to kiss just underneath each of his eyes. “Do you feel better now?”
“I do.”
“It was nothing, wasn’t it?”
“Not nothing. But you would’ve survived.” And he shouldn’t have used his magic when there were people who needed it more. Sighing, he drew her tighter into his arms and hugged her fiercely. “We have to go.”
“Where are we going?”
“There was another attack at the base of the mountain. A war band was sent there to warn the humans that the mountain is now off limits to your kind, and that we’ll kill any human who steps foot onto our home. The fight did not go well for either side.”
He had thought she would flinch. Perhaps she would admit to being nervous and not wanting to go. But she didn’t. His brave little wife straightened her shoulders and gave him a quick nod.
“Let’s go, then.”
“It will be a long journey.”
“Just let me hold on to your back rather than tossing me over your shoulder, and I’ll be fine.”
They shared a small smile with each other, perhaps both of them thinking about the many times she’d vomited when they’d first met, before he turned and offered her his back. Maia clambered on, and then they were off.
He took one of the lesser known entrances to the mountain, risking that the humans hadn’t found it just yet. But it was a tighter opening, and fewer people could get through it while walking beside each other. Ragnar was just able to fit through the passage with her on his back, and then they were out into the sun. He didn’t pause to let his eyes adjust, he just powered forward. Lunging into the bright light and trusting his body would carry him where they needed to go.
Then there was only the sun and the wind. Blasting, cold air that scraped at his cheeks and stole the breath from his lungs. Air that reminded him they were very close to winter. That if they weren’t careful, they would get stuck in a snow squall and it would be very difficult to come home.
Soon, the humans wouldn’t be able to reach the mountain, anyway. Winter would protect the trolls from whatever else her people had planned.
It took them half a day to reach the others, although Ragnar was certain that was partially because they could move so quickly. He didn’t have large packs to carry or equipment to bring. There were few weapons on his body, and only the lightest of humans clinging to his back.
The closer they got, the more he felt like he had to warn her about what she was going to see. “Humans are not kind to trolls when they fight,” he reminded her. “The weapons your people have devised leave wounds that are hard to look upon.”
“I understand, Ragnar.”
“And I don’t know what bodies we’ll find left behind.” He cleared his throat. “The bodies of your people.”
“I also knew that was likely.”
He just hoped there weren’t bodies already flayed and in the trees. The last thing Maia needed to see was her people like that, while he was asking her to heal the trolls who had done such terrible things. He had done them as well, but now it felt wrong. Or perhaps the act didn’t hold quite as much justice as it used to.
They headed toward a group of trolls, all standing watch. They gave him small nods, but he could see their wary glances toward the woman on his back. Even now, they were afraid of what she could do, of what she might do.
He helped Maia off his back and steadied her when she landed on the ground. She was still a little weak-kneed from what they’d done in the forest, and likely from being carried such a far way. He couldn’t blame her.
But as the trolls stared at her with mistrust and no small amount of fear, she walked through them without looking back. Ragnar was struck with how terrified she must have been when he’d first taken her from her home, how hard it must have been for her to be surrounded by trolls and not wonder how they were going to kill her.
And somehow, still, she had kept going. She had learned to argue with him. She’d thrown herself into working on whatever he’d given her, and even then, she’d somehow asked for more. Never once had she complained about the different clothing, food, or even the lack of light. Instead, she had wholeheartedly decided to make the best of what she had been given.
Even now, when his people thought she was little more than a monster herself, Maia stood with him. Ready to do whatever it took to save the very people who had rescinded the trust they’d given her.
His heart flipped in his chest, squeezing painfully as she looked up at him and asked, “Who do we start with?”
Swallowing hard around the sudden emotions and lump in his throat, he replied, “We find Gunnar. He went ahead of us, and he’ll have gathered those who need the most help.”
“Then that’s where we go.” She reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together, and then they were off.
Gunnar had indeed already set up a tent where those who were the most injured were resting. And there were quite a few injuries. The majority of wounds seemed to be burns. The few trolls who were talking around them were already speaking of the fire the humans had unleashed. Great swaths of it had cut through the battlefield, making it almost impossible for the trolls to even get close to the soldiers they’d needed to attack.
Ragnar went into the tent of burn victims, and the chorus of groans that erupted at the sight of him reminded him just how much he was needed. He walked to the corner where all the healing potions had been set. He’d need to keep their use as sparse as possible, because he was quite certain these weren’t the only injured warriors.
Gunnar brushed aside the tent flap and came in with them. It didn’t escape Ragnar’s notice that his brother wore significantly more weapons than he should have needed.
“Tell me,” Ragnar grunted as he carried the jars of potions over to the burn victims. He handed one of the jars to Maia. “Put this on their burns. Lightly—we need to make it go far. You should be able to see it work quickly. Then wrap the wounds with the gauze on the table behind you. Understand?”
“Well enough. I don’t think I can hurt them any worse than they already are,” she replied, before turning to do the job.
Ragnar turned his attention to Gunnar, who was already shifting back and forth on his feet. His brother only moved like that when he wanted to fight, which meant there was a battle to be had.
“The humans aren’t gone,” Gunnar finally said. “They’ve regrouped at a village nearby, but they’re already preparing more weapons. Our scouts have seen them making the same substance that caused all of this.”
“The king said not to engage unless they were on the mountain, didn’t he?”
“We can’t just let them come back. We can bring the fight to them before they’re able to make more of that fire. If they do and follow us up the mountain, then we can do very little to stop them.” Gunnar ran his hand through the long locks of his hair, some of it getting stuck in the piercings in his ears. “I don’t know the right thing to do here. Do we bring the fight to them and prevent more injuries, or do we listen to what our king has ordered us to do?”
Ragnar didn’t know what to tell him. He wasn’t the warlord here. He was a healer, and the magic inside of him was already blistering. It wanted to heal the people around him, and it wanted to shove aside anyone who distracted him from doing that. The thought of what might happen if the trolls attacked the humans? If he was being honest with himself, he would rather wait and see what other weapons the humans had created. His magic wanted more people to heal, and the only way to get that was to see more people injured.
But that was why he had never become a warlord. He could make choices that were a detriment to the well-being of other trolls. Such was the downside to hungry magic that just wanted to be used.
“You’ll make the right choice,” Ragnar finally said, clapping his hand to Gunnar’s shoulder. “Let me heal these warriors first, though. If you’re going to attack that village, you need all the help you can get.”
Then he turned to help Maia. Together, they healed the trolls who were in so much pain.
And throughout it all, he watched her. Because he could heal a troll in his sleep, but he’d never expected someone with no healing background to do what she did. She was a natural. Where he usually grunted and healed them however he wished, she was the first person to reach for their hands. She held them through the pain of healing, whispering words of encouragement and telling them that they were doing very well.
She asked their first patient where he was from. The question startled the male out of the pain, and he stammered as he told her about his wife and children who were waiting for him back home. When he panicked, fearing that he wouldn’t ever get to see them again, she smiled at him and reassured him that he would be fine.
“Tell me about your troll wife,” she said.
His eyes had teared up at the question, and Ragnar was certain they were going to have a difficult patient. But they didn’t.
Because Maia then said, “I need all the advice I can get. I’m sure you’ve heard I’m not very good at being one.”
The patient had chuckled while Ragnar set in on healing him, using some of Maia’s green magic threaded with his own to make the potion go even farther than it had before. Her fingers curled around his, her magic convincing the marigold to grow and spread through the man’s body, healing faster than before.
And that was how it was with every patient they saw. She reassured them, quietly gave them even more strength while he made sure that they were healed. As each of those warriors fell asleep, she tucked them in. There were blankets at the foot of the cots they all lay on. Blankets he hadn’t ever seen a troll use because he usually moved on to the next person who needed to be healed. But she took the time to make sure they were warm before she joined him at the next.
When they were getting close to the end of the first tent, Maia’s fingers caught his just before he touched the next patient. This woman was already exhausted and asleep, but there were still burns to be healed.
“Ragnar,” she said quietly. “Can we try to speak with the village first? Instead of going in and razing it to the ground without giving them a chance, can we maybe talk to them? Perhaps they will be understanding.”
“They have never listened to trolls.”
“What if I’m there?”
An inner voice screamed in his mind. No. No, he could not allow that. He wouldn’t put her in harm’s way because she wished to see her people in a better light. He knew what they would do. The humans wouldn’t care that she was one of their own. They would see her as a threat.
But he could see a spark of bravery in her. That spark was one he so adored, and one he wanted to cultivate. Because she deserved to be brave. She deserved to try.
“I’ll speak with Gunnar,” he said quietly. “I’ll do my best.”