Chapter 3 #2
“The warlock told us the curse would be lifted by the arrival of a human woman of great wisdom who did not fear us.” Toved rested his enormous hand gently on my arm.
“He did not believe any such woman would come to Geedhollow. Nor did he believe he would ever die. He was wrong, for here you are and he is long since ash.” He kissed my hand once again, and now his eyes glowed softly in adoration rather than in anger. “You freed us, Lady Aveline.”
“How so?” I asked, confused. “I have no memory of breaking any spells.”
“Our chains broke when you looked upon us with defiance.” Now Vosten did take my other hand.
They both seemed to want—or need—my touch as much as possible.
“Finally, as men, we were able to return home. Treating your wounds is so very little compared to what you have done for us, but it is far from the only reason we chose to care for you.”
Their devotion to me was obvious. If what they said was true—and my instincts told me it was—I was not in danger with them.
“You said you are kings under the earth,” I said. “Are we underground, then?” I gestured around the room. “In a system of caves?”
Vosten tilted his head. “It is…difficult to explain. We are in a realm different from your own. We are not below. We are beside.”
This explanation was not as strange or incomprehensible or unbelievable as it might have been to someone else. My mother had taught me from a young age that the Goddess watched over many realms, and ours was only one of them.
“But how did we come here?” I insisted.
“Our kind travel between realms using doorways under bridges,” Toved explained. “Humans call us trolls because of this, though we have never understood the true meaning of that word.”
Every account of trolls I’d heard or seen described them as ugly, vicious, and monstrous, twisted by greed and gluttony. The only similarity I could see between that and the men before me was their enormous stature and their horns. And regarding their method of travel…
“There are no bridges near Geedhollow,” I protested. “The closest bridge is in Rivertown. And surely you would have been seen!”
“There are no intact bridges,” Vosten said gently. “But our Lady Aveline, like a crossroads, once made, a bridge is always a bridge, even when it no longer appears to be so to human eyes.”
I pictured the ruins of the warlock’s manor. “So that ancient stone bridge is the doorway to this place, and my way back home?”
Both flinched a little at the question, but Vosten gave me a nod. “Yes.”
“Wait,” I said, frowning. “You were in my realm for a very long time. What became of your kingdom in the meantime? Did your people not think you were long dead?”
“That is the magic of such doorways,” Toved said, caressing my hand in a way that felt very good. “When you return, it is to the same time as when you departed. Our people did not know of our captivity or torment until we let it be known what had happened to us.”
It was my turn to flinch. If I walked through the doorway, it would be that horrible night still. The bodies of Nobles and his hounds would be waiting…and Forbright would come hunting for me. My stomach churned.
To distract myself, I glanced down at my nightgown. “I’d like to see how badly I’m hurt.”
Almost moving as one, they rose. How enormous and beautiful they were.
Captivated by the patches of strange texture on their skin, I reached for Toved’s leg before I caught myself and pulled back my hand.
“You are welcome to touch me anywhere you please, our Lady,” Toved said, moving closer to the bed. “If you are curious, yes, it is stone. Our kind come from the mountains.”
Cautiously, I ran my fingertips over Toved’s massive thigh. The texture reminded me of stones worn smooth in a river, though some along the outside of the patch were rougher on the top and edges. And they were very warm—as warm as his flesh.
Fascinated by the stone, for a long time I didn’t notice that he shivered every time I touched him.
When I met his dark gaze, his expression was tender and desire shone in his eyes.
Goddess, he was magnificent. They both were, especially in the torchlight.
Perhaps I had no business thinking of kings in such terms, but if I was not mistaken, they looked on me in much the same way.
“Does our flesh distress you?” Vosten asked.
“No.” I rested my trembling hand in my lap. “It’s beautiful.”
“There is no beauty here that compares to you.” Toved reached for my furs. “You said you wish to see your healing injuries?”
“Yes, please.”
Gently, they pulled back the furs and piled them near the foot of the bed. My white nightgown was lovely and soft, with short fluttery sleeves, a square neckline, and a ruffled hem. It covered me to just below my knees. Most in Halston would have called it immodest, but I found it beautiful.
Vosten and Toved turned to give me privacy. Their backs proved as exquisitely sculpted as their chests and shoulders…and their loincloths were no wider in the back than the front, meaning I saw a great deal of their hips and buttocks. Goddess, do you tempt me, or bless me?
“You don’t need to turn away,” I said. “I’m decently covered.” And perhaps more to the point, they’d already seen me undressed.
Modesty was a frivolity that had never interested me—and too often I saw it weaponized against girls and women in my village. Like my mother, I had no time for blaming girls or women for the inexcusable behavior of bad men.
As they sat again on either side of me, I slipped my gown off my shoulder to examine the area savaged by the lead hound. The wound wasn’t bandaged anymore and was well on its way to healing. I would have a scar there for the rest of my days, though—a reminder of that terrible night.
Gingerly, I ran my fingertips over the mark and hissed in a breath at the flare of pain. “How long have I been here?”
“Six days and nights,” Toved said. “We have done our very best to heal your wounds.”
This much healing in just six days? I stared at my shoulder in wonder. Their medicine was much better than anything I had access to back home.
“I think I remember being sick,” I said. “Was I?”
“Yes.” Vosten’s expression turned grave. “Your injuries became infected, and we think you were undernourished and weakened by mistreatment.”
He plainly wanted an explanation for my condition, but I didn’t feel ready to discuss my captivity.
Instead, I drew my nightgown up to bare my legs to mid-thigh.
These bite wounds were deep but less savage than the one on my shoulder.
My feet were still healing, especially their soles, but I hadn’t lost my feet or hands to frostbite, which was perhaps the biggest miracle of all.
Thanks to these men—these kings—I was alive. If Henry Forbright and his hounds had gotten their way, I would be a corpse now, or at the very least a terribly injured prisoner at the manor. I took a shaky breath and closed my eyes.
The brothers rumbled. “Our Lady Aveline,” Toved said, clasping my hand in both of his. “Please, may we comfort you?”
I’d had little peace since my mother’s death three years ago, and certainly none since Nobles hit me on the head and carted me off to the manor.
I’d lain awake night after night in my locked bedroom wishing for solace of any kind.
And in the forest and on the bloody grass of Geedhollow, I’d begged the Goddess for comfort.
What if Vosten and Toved were the gift and blessing I’d yearned for? What if I was the gift and blessing they had waited and longed for too?
“Yes,” I said, my throat tight. “Please.”
As Vosten smoothed my nightgown back in place, Toved covered me with a silken fur.
When they settled in on either side of me, I glimpsed what was covered by their loincloths.
I very studiously did not stare—not that I thought they would have minded.
They seemed entirely unselfconscious. Their manhoods appeared very human-like, though much larger than I was used to, in proportion to their bodies.
The glint of gold might be piercings. How… intriguing.
I distracted myself by studying the golden threads braided through their hair that caught the light from the torches and glimmered.
Lying on my back with each man on his side facing me felt awkward, but I didn’t know which way to turn. I found myself looking at Toved for help.
Gently, he turned me so I faced Vosten, then moved closer so my back was against his chest. He was so wonderfully warm. Almost instantly, the knot in my stomach began to fade.
Vosten slipped his hand under the fur to cradle mine. My hand felt cold, especially compared to his heat.
“Our Lady Aveline—” he began.
“I don’t have any title,” I protested. “I’m just Aveline.”
“You are not just anything, our Lady.” Toved’s voice was kind but firm. “No one so fearless and fierce may say they are just Aveline.”
A jolt of memory: my mother, many years ago, suddenly angry at a customer who came into the shop to find me at the counter and demanded to see Mariane D’Corsay and not “just” her daughter.
No one refers to Aveline as just my daughter, my mother had said, her mouth a thin line. Aveline is the embodiment of all our ancestors’ joy, knowledge, power, and wisdom. There is no just about that.
The customer left the shop with a bottle of herbal tincture and a lesson learned.
“You can choose your own title when you are ready,” Vosten said, smoothing hair back from my face.
Their reassuring closeness and the warmth under the fur had me growing more drowsy by the moment. “Thank you,” I murmured.
He drew my hand from under the fur and kissed it. “You need rest. We will stay by your side so you may sleep without fear and dream of only beautiful things.”
That might have been the most tender sentiment anyone had ever said to me. I curled my fingers around Vosten’s much-larger hand and squeezed.
He squeezed back and looked over me. “Sing for our Aveline, brother.”
Toved sang. I didn’t know the language, or what exactly the song was about, but his deep and resonant voice sounded wistful as it rolled over me and filled the room.
I let myself drift on the melody, and very soon I was sound asleep.