Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Gunnar
The dead led them home. He had wondered if they would be able to do so, and they absolutely did. All he had to do was trust in them.
Strangely enough, he hadn't thought they would get out that easily.
But the next day, once the venom was completely out of his body, they were able to make better time.
Gunnar was shocked to see that Rose could just listen, and all of a sudden she knew which way to go.
Of course, the ancient beings had lived here far longer than he had, but still. He was a little offended.
Even odder, he could pull on his own magic.
Magic that he had never really given much thought to, and then be able to see them as well.
It didn't disturb Rose that they were all in varying states of decay.
She didn't care at all that one of those souls was holding on to his head so it didn't topple off his body, or that another woman had a wound down her spine that was so wide they could see the delicate bones where her flesh had been flayed open.
Rose didn't seem uncomfortable to talk with the dead in the slightest. She just smiled at them. Nodded when they talked. Asked questions that were completely unrelated to their travels. Questions he never would have thought to ask.
What was their favorite snack? And then a follow up question of the recipe because that one hadn't survived the eighty years since the woman had died. She asked another their opinions of the king, and they were very adamant that the troll king was doing his best with what he had been given.
He guessed he'd just never given the dead their dues.
Of course they would have opinions. Of course many trolls would remain here, in their home, surrounded by family and descendants who might not be able to see them, but who still meant a lot.
They watched their lines grow and change and develop and they were so, infinitely proud.
When he saw the first sliver of blue light in the canyon they stood in, he felt immense relief. They'd made it. They had gotten out of that pit and that meant he hadn't failed her. Sure, he'd gotten her into the situation, but he at least had gotten her out as well.
Gunnar reached for her hand, so small in his own and not even hesitating to touch him now. Rose flashed him a small smile, one that barely tilted her lips up at the corners, and he felt like his entire world had burst open with the sun.
She could smile at him now. She'd even laughed, although neither of them wanted to admit that, in fear that maybe they would ruin the moment. She was healing faster than he had ever thought she could, but maybe she had been right. Rose had been healing this whole time, and they had all thought she’d just been drowning in sorrow.
"Ready?" she asked as she turned to look at him.
The canyon led up to a small cliff. Once he stepped out of this canyon, they were back in the real world.
And sure, it hadn't been all good things after they fell.
Actually, it had mostly been bad. But still.
He wasn't sure he wanted to go back to the real world when he had gotten a glimpse at what life would be like if it was just the two of them.
"Ready," he said, although even he could hear the reluctance in his voice.
He held her hand in his, and together they exited the canyon and headed back into Trollveggen.
It wasn't like they had been gone that long.
He was sure it had only been a few days, but it still somehow felt like they had been gone for weeks.
So when they wandered through the streets toward the barracks, all he could think was that it was strange no one was excited to see them. No one was even worried about them.
A few trolls who recognized them of course said hello, but there were no worried expressions or people rushing toward them asking where they had been.
And none of them knew what they had gone through.
None of them knew that he'd been poisoned or that she was doing her best to crawl out of the pit she had been placed in.
All he could do was look at them wondering why none of them saw the ordeal they had both been through painted all over their bodies and faces.
Rose tugged on his hand, drawing him closer to the barracks all on her own. "Come on," she said. "I'm exhausted and would very much like to sleep in my own bed."
Then he was flooded with images of sleeping with her. Not sex. But holding her, as he had wanted to do in the cave. Clutching her to his chest so that he knew she was right here with him and not back in that cave with all the black sunder trying to get to her.
"I could..." He cleared his throat. They had made it to the front doors of the barracks, and he knew if he didn't say this now, he wasn't going to be able to get the words out. "I could stay the night with you, if you'd like? I know what we went through was rather... um... shocking."
Please, he thought. Please let me stay with you.
He wasn't above begging, he supposed. He didn't want to push her, this wasn't about that. He just wanted to know that she was alive.
Rose's cheeks turned a pretty bright red that made his heart race. What was she thinking? Was she going to say yes? He had to wipe his hands on his dirty pants because sweat started making his palms so slick. He wanted to stay with her and he hoped to every single god that she understood why.
Rose took a deep breath, and he could see the nerves running through her entire body. It broke his heart. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable with the suggestion, he could let it go. He should wash anyway and then go right back to the bunks in the barracks with all the others.
"I'd like that," she said. "If you don't mind me being a little uncomfortable. I haven't... beds might be hard."
He could understand that. Always would.
So he followed her like a lost puppy, trailing along behind her with his heart in his hands. She was just everything he'd ever hoped and dreamt for, and she had no idea how much it meant to him that she could trust him this much.
Calming his breath as much as he could, he followed her to her bedroom in the barracks. His bedroom. The one he had given her in the hopes that having her own space would make this transition a little easier for her.
Of course now he was a little frozen. He stood in the doorway, uncertain if he should come inside or wait for her to ask him in. Maybe she needed to give him permission. Perhaps it would help if he allowed her to invite him.
"You don't have to lurk," she said, heading over to the small dresser in the corner. "I'm going to wash. You should probably do the same."
Right. Clean. They were both covered in grime from the caves, algae from the water that was slowly dying now that it was exposed to the open air, and who knew what else. They hadn't exactly been on a relaxing adventure, and he reeked.
Gunnar headed out of the room without another word.
He got his things from the barracks where he usually slept and made quick work of cleaning himself in the bathing house.
Or maybe it wasn't quick at all, he couldn't remember.
But he had the faintest memory of standing there staring at the wall while hot water rushed down over his head.
She had said he could stay the night with her. He could not fuck this up.
By the time he'd gotten back to his private room, he was so tied up with nerves that it was by miracle at all that he opened the door and walk inside. And then he was frozen in the doorway again, standing there like a dolt because there was a vision in front of him.
She'd changed into a simple white nightgown.
It was thick material, likely cotton that someone had stolen from the human kingdom, so it wasn't like it was see through or even tantalizing in any way that troll clothing might have been.
But she'd pulled her pale hair over one shoulder and was slowly brushing it.
Wet, tangled hair that had seen better days.
A nest, like he had called it many times before.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair, he had a vision of what he wanted every night to look like from now on.
Every single night he wanted to walk in here and see her brushing her hair.
He wanted to see the softness in her expression, the way her shoulders were rounded forward not in fear, but in relaxation.
He had never dreamt of a moment like this.
A wife had always been someone in his mind that he'd sexualized.
A beautiful woman who made him hungry with a single glance.
He'd never thought that his troll bride would be someone who made him feel comfortable.
Yes, he was attracted to Rose. He wasn't insane.
But he didn't want to pounce on her and ravish her.
No, he wanted to hold her, to cherish her and this strange fluttering feeling in his chest.
She tugged on a particularly hard knot in her hair, and he couldn't stand the wince that she made.
"Be more gentle," he said, gruffly. He placed his things on the floor next to the door and closed it behind him.
"I brush my hair multiple times a day and it's always tangled. Eventually you get tired of it," Rose replied with a little snarl. Then he swore he heard her pull so hard that she tore hair out of her own head.
Sighing, he approached the bed and snatched the brush out of her hair. She glared at him, whipping around to take it back from him.
"Turn around," he ordered. "I'll do it."
"You are not going to brush my hair."
"If you're going to keep tearing out all those lovely strands, then yes I am."
She glared for a few more seconds, but he could see that the fight in her had already drained out. With a little huff, she turned her back to him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. But if you tug just as hard as I do, then I get to finish it. I'll be much faster than you."
"Probably."
But she didn't care about her hair as much as he did.
He started at the bottom, lifting the long strands of her hair and taking his time.
He stood behind her, not wanting to risk sitting on the bed and becoming even more distracted.
Every stroke working out the knots without pulling or tugging.
He could see them easier, anyway. He'd wanted to do this for a very long time.
The nest of her hair was a personal challenge. She deserved to have a silken waterfall of stunning hair. She deserved not to feel it pulling at her scalp whenever she moved. And now he got to be the person who could give that to her.
Every brush through the long locks seemed to relax her further.
Soon enough, she was leaning into him. He wasn't sure she even noticed that she was doing it.
He had to take a step back as she scooted closer to him, and soon enough she had the small of her back resting against his thigh as he got the last of the tangles out.
She hummed low under her breath as he could brush through the strands without a single snag. "This feels nice."
"I don't mind doing it. If you need someone to brush your hair again, you let me know."
She snorted, again with that sound that was almost a laugh. "That would be every night, Gunnar. Even if I braid it, I get knots."
"Then I'll brush your hair every night."
"That's a mad thing for me to ask anyone to do."
He set the brush down on the mattress beside her and ran his claws through her hair. Pure silk. So soft that it made him want to never stop touching it. "I don't mind at all, Rose. I'm more than happy to brush your hair every night."
A long lull broke after he'd admitted that. Almost as though he'd broken some unspoken rule between the two of them. Or maybe, just maybe, he'd done everything right.
She took a deep breath. "We should go to bed."
"Do you want to braid this? It might help it not tangle while you sleep."
She seemed to hesitate, so he just made quick work of it. He’d braided many people’s hair in his life, from his own when he had kept it longer, to warriors on the battlefield. He knew how to tie it without a leather strap as well.
Once he was done, he flipped the braid over her shoulder and then got underneath the covers. All without a word. She could make the first move. He wouldn't force her to get into bed with him, and he wouldn't insist that she do so.
Still, the tension in him eased as she slipped underneath the covers with him and draped herself across his chest. Was she stiff? Yes, of course she was. But she was here. And that was a start.
He said nothing, just breathed in slowly and deeply until he could almost feel her falling asleep. At least, until she murmured something under her breath.
Then she said it again, louder this time. "I don't think we should tell anyone we're bonded yet."
His blood went cold. Why? Why would they not? She was his troll wife now, and he would do everything he could to keep her safe and happy and be the best troll husband he could be.
"Why?" he asked, trying not to let his emotions show through his voice.
"The bridal games. Didn't we break some kind of rule?"
Shit.
Actually, "Shit," he said out loud. "You're right. We definitely broke a lot of rules. I was supposed to compete to get to this stage."
She yawned, her jaw popping. "I don't want to make the king any angrier than he already is. We're sneaking off, bonded with each other, none of that will make the other competitors happy."
He could point out the only competitor who would be unhappy about that was Magnus. But he didn't want to ruin this moment as she drifted off to sleep on his chest.