Chapter 12
Trewoofe
Trewoofe had always considered himself a patient Knucker.
It appeared that on the matter of Avice, the opposite was true.
He waited, watched, and listened in the night.
The Knucker finally ceased his pacing, and instead, lay on the frosted ground.
To his surprise, the snappy, little familiar lay down next to him – close but not touching.
“Do you often wait for her like this?” Trewoofe asked, turning his snout to the Grim.
I spend most of my life waiting for her, Bramble huffed, not meeting his eye and steam rising from his nose. She serves the villagers with many medicines and treatments. Births are her most important service, and they take a long time in humans.
“Very different to my kind. Knuckers lay eggs,” Trewoofe said. “We males build nests, and the females will lay a small clutch. It is quite quick, but it will take her a while to recover.”
It seems as though the work is unfairly skewed. I am sure laying eggs is a lot of work, Bramble observed, face turned away. What else do Knucker males do?
Trewoofe’s tail twitched irritably at his question.
“In Knucker culture, males are devoted to their soul-bound. We court her, bring her gifts, dance for her,” he explained.
“If we are honoured and chosen by the female that we are a courting, we build her a nest and decorate it. We bring her food while she broods, and once the Knuckerlings hatch, we both take equal care of them.”
I—
Whatever the Grim was about to retort was interrupted by a young woman. She was thin as a branch and nearly blew away in the gale of the night.
“Hound? Are you out here?” she called. “The midwife asked if you could take me to Goodwife Emma’s home, so I can retrieve something, and then bring me back. Please?”
Bramble stood, moving across the barren ground in a blink to appear by the woman’s side. She jumped back with a gasp, her hand flying to mouth. Trewoofe watched, cocking his head curiously as the Grim yipped, disappearing into the night with the young woman following close behind.
Now alone, and while he waited for his little witch, he went to find the closest river. He easily cut through the woods like a fish through water, able to see in the complete darkness.
Spotting the frozen water, he carved his talons into the ice.
Trewoofe gouged a hole wide enough to fit his body through and slipped in, unbothered by the frigid waters.
He dove down, the gills behind his horns opening, allowing him to breathe underwater.
He swam deeper until the midnight waters ran into his buried territory.
He surfaced into a subterranean passageway and climbed onto the riverbank.
He travelled further in and finally scented the healing waters of his Kingdom.
Trewoofe cast his gaze around, his tongue flicked at the air – it was cold and stale – the taste scratching his throat.
It had been many turns of seasons since he had been in this abandoned tunnel, and none of his Faerie subjects seemed to be living here.
The crystals that erupted from the rocky walls and ceiling were dull in their lustre but glowed more brightly as he padded past them.
He shook the leather bags free from his horns. Trewoofe used his forepaws to dip them into the lazily flowing river. The water shimmered and chimed as he submerged each bag, filling them to the brim. He pulled each up and deftly laced them closed with the very tips of his talons.
Avice will be happy. His tail swished excitedly. I will take these back to her cottage before I return to her escort her home.
He sat on his haunches. He lifted the now full water bags and hung them on his horns, making his head heavy. He flicked his tongue out again, scenting which direction would lead him back up and out of his Kingdom.
After dropping the brimming water bags at the door of Avice’s locked cottage, Trewoofe dutifully returned to his vigil outside of the labouring mother’s dwelling.
Dawn was not far away, and he could feel the tiniest increase of temperature on his scales.
The Knucker observed that the Grim had also returned to his watch while he had been gone.
Lord. Bramble lowered his nose to the ground.
“Familiar.”
Trewoofe settled next to the Grim, once again, close but not touching. He crossed his forepaws and rested his chin on top.
“King Trewoofe!”
The shout of Avice’s voice had the Knucker jolting awake.
“Oh, little witch!” he exclaimed with a wide yawn, tongue stretching far beyond the boundary of his fangs. “How goes the work?” Finally focusing on the midwife, her familiar stood diligently by her side. Trewoofe blinked in surprise at the obvious bump under her cloak. “Another?”
“Yes, Lord,” Avice replied, her voice raw. Bramble butted her free hand until she wrapped her fingers into his fur. “I have been so lucky these past eight turns of seasons. I have not lost one baby or mother. Now, two children would be dead within a week if it were not for you and the Piskies.”
“You wish for me to take this offspring as well?”
“If you could, please,” Avice replied, trembling.
“Of course,” Trewoofe said simply. Why would I refuse? I think if she asked me to put my nose in fire, I would. He skimmed his tongue over the cloak that protected the infant from the elements. “May I see… are we naming this offspring too?”
Avice gave him a small smile. “His mother has named him, Boarden.”
“Show him to me.” He watched as the midwife removed her fingers from her Grim’s fur and pulled back her cloak and the blanket, revealing the tiniest creature Trewoofe had ever seen. “He is so small. I am worried I would squash him.”
Avice’s face fell. “Oh…”
“That is not to say I will not take him to the Underneath,” Trewoofe added hastily, tail twitching with concern. “It is just… if I were to carry him the whole way, I may injure him. Perhaps if you were to bring him to the well with me?”
“Thank you, Tre… I mean, Lord.”
“Before we leave. He is so tiny, I am worried he may not survive the trip. This cold, it is no good for little ones.” Trewoofe dribbled a little saliva onto the forehead of the baby, hoping it may pre-emptively warn off any injuries because of exposure or his smallness. “Rub that over him, it may help.”
Avice spread the saliva over the child before swaddling and tucking him back under her cloak.
The little boy gave a squeal and the midwife’s face lit up.
She beamed up at the Knucker, reaching with her free hand to graze the very tip of his snout with her gloved fingers. His vision spun at her smile and touch.
The dawn light cast a warm glow over her face, making her hair look a fiery black. He settled his head back to the ground, into the flowers that had bloomed around him, so that Avice could climb on.
“I will need a little longer to get on,” she explained, “I am doing this one handed.”
She stood for a moment, jiggling the baby in one arm. Trewoofe watched as her eyes darted to the ground, to him, and back to the green earth again.
“Lord…? Did you bring Spring?”
The Well King slept out here, while I kept watch, Bramble interrupted. I saw the grass spread around him and then came the flowers.
“Spring should already be here; I was just encouraging her a long a little.” He curled his head closer to Avice, the edge of a horn just brushing her shoulder and bumping into the Grim.
The touch made Bramble jump back with a yelp, and he bared his fangs briefly before lowering his head.
Well, there goes any progress we have made.
I would like for us to be friends, like the little witch and I are… friends.
To distract himself from the heat of Avice against his scales, Trewoofe flared his nostrils and scented the flowers that had grown from the natural magic that rippled from him as he moved across the land.
The fresh Spring grass mingled amongst the sweet smells of bluebells, purple crocuses, and white snowdrops that had grown in the spot he had rested.
Over it all, Avice’s delicious honey and lavender invaded him, and he could not help but lash his tongue out to gather more of her scent.
He wished he could run it over other parts of her skin to see what else she might taste like.
“Alright, I am seated,” Avice called from behind his head.
I am aware.
Trewoofe fought to keep his crest down, and his length behind his seam. The heat of her thighs and stockings against his membrane, and little ribbons tickling at him, was more than enough to flush him with desire.
“We will move more slowly than before, for the sake of the baby. But still, it will be a lot faster than your two small legs can take you.”
“I am not that small,” Avice retorted.
“You are,” Trewoofe teased, chuckling at her denial before taking off through the woods, heading straight for his well.
The Sun had peeked over the horizon by the time Trewoofe finally arrived.
He was glad to be back in his warm protective circle, woven by his magic, and where Spring was always the season.
He lowered his head to the mossy flagstone, and Avice carefully slid down to land unsteadily on her feet.
She nearly slipped over, and her face flashed with panic.
Trewoofe whipped his tail around to catch her.
“You do not need another broken bone,” he reassured, pushing gently until she was completely firm on her feet.
“Thank you,” she said, her gaze following him as he lifted his head.
Trewoofe’s heart fluttered at how delightfully windswept she was. Her hair was half out of her bun, and her cheeks were flushed. Avice was normally so neat and presentable, but he found it adorable to see her this way: more raw, more real, more her.
“I will take Boarden. I thought I would enquire after Hope when I see the Piskies,” Trewoofe offered.