LUCIAN
Being cruel wasn't something he fancied but she would have to be tougher to be a troll
wife. This creature had barely lasted a few hours on his shoulder before almost vomiting all over him.
Humans were delicate. He would need to ensure she ate and drank enough water during their travels to keep her alive, but he did not know how much of either she needed. Clearly, she would have different needs
than his own kind. Her people were more delicate, softer than the trolls. He wasn't sure if she could go a full day without food, let alone a week like his own people could.
He was... worried. And that feeling didn't settle well with him. He didn't want a wife he had to worry about. He'd wanted a sturdy woman but fate had other plans.
He doubted she could even bathe herself regularly. She thought it made her sick, such strange creatures.
Striding through the trees and toward a clearing nearby, he was pleased to see the rest of the trolls had already started making camp. The black dyed hides were hand stitched with gold threads in runes for protection, good rest, and warnings in case anyone snuck up on them while they were asleep.
Tiberius waited for him at their tents, seated outside of one with a fire already started. "You left her in the stream?"
"You saw?"
His brother grinned and shook his head. "The entire campsite is talking about the troll who shoved his wife into the water. We're taking bets on what she takes in retribution. Your cock or your ears. I bet on the cock."
If only. Trolls valued a woman who knew how to fight, and troll wives were known to be the fiercest among them.
"My troll wife is meek," he muttered before ducking into the tent his brother had set up for him.
"What?" His brother's voice echoed before he thundered into the tent after him. "What do you mean, she's meek?"
"I mean, she's little more than a ground mouse hidden in a hole. I scolded her, ordered her around, shoved her into a stream, and not a single word. She's delicate, fragile, everything she should not be." And that terror was already consuming him.
His brother had done little to set up the tent's interior. Normally he would have layered plush rugs inside this late in the evening. They would keep her feet warm in the icy wind that always crept through the forest this
time of year. He'd have to get those out of the crates, along with the clothing he wanted to bring her.
But none of the clothing he'd made for her would fit. He had spent his entire life learning how to stitch and sew and design clothing that would befit a troll wife, but all of it had been made for a much larger bride.
A creature who would have, without a doubt, been his match in every way.
Two crates in the corner held all of his travel gear, and he marched over to them and opened up the one on the right. There were furs there for the bed he would eventually make, and the bridal clothing that he'd brought with him.
Bright colorful leathers would have made any troll wife hiss a happy sound. He'd taken time to learn how to string pure silver into a thread he stitched into them. The dress was designed to hang off the shoulders of his
wife, showing the graceful lines of her neck, which were his favorite part about women. The lines of her shoulders would be bare for him to linger on and kiss. But the dress
was far too large, and the pattern wouldn't fit her.
His troll wife wouldn't want to wear anything that told the history of the trolls. She wouldn't care about the time it had taken him to carefully stitch, line by line, how his people had been born from mud, fur, and scales.
Besides, allowing her to wear such a garment felt like a denial of the bride who should have been. Sighing, he reached beyond the beautiful fabric to grab one of his own shirts. It was plain cotton, but it would have to do for now.
Standing, he turned to face his brother's frown.
"What now?" Lucian snarled.
"You would give her that to wear?"
"What else should I give her? I didn't have enough time to stitch her
anything else. The bridal wear was made for a troll, brother. She's hardly the size of our children, let alone a full grown troll wife."
There it was again. More anxiety. More nerves churning in his belly because she was so much smaller than he'd expected. Would she even be able to keep up with them? Would he be forced to carry her for the rest of
their days? What would he do when he was older and incapable of carrying her such a great distance?
Tiberius clapped his hand on his shoulder, giving Lucian a little shake.
"She deserves the honor of any troll wife. I know you're struggling with this, brother. But it will look bad in the eyes of our people."
For her to be covered in little more than cotton? Of course it would. The entire camp would think he was ashamed of her, but what else could he do?
"I have nothing else to give her," Lucian grunted.
Tiberius searched his gaze for a few moments before nodding. "Of course you don't. I don't know why I assumed there would be more. Allow me to set up your tent while you go and gather her. Make sure she's dry."
Helplessly, he stood there, facing his brother's disappointment. All he could think to say was, "She thinks bathing will make her sick."
His brother blinked in surprise. "She does?"
With slow steps, Lucian backed to the trunks and sat down hard on top of one.
"I didn't realize the humans were so..."
They stared at each other, at a loss for words. There was no chance for Lucian to feel better. This troll wife of his was more than disappointing. She was a waste of time.
Tiberius sighed and ran a hand over his head. "Well, I don't know what to tell you. She's your wife now."
"Not yet. There is still another step."
"She will be," Tiberius insisted. "The Ivory Tongue saw it, as did the king's seer. You will be her husband and she will be yours to take. You can fight it all you want, or you can accept it and learn how to..."
"Don't say it."
"I wasn't going to say love her, brother. I was just going to say learn her." Tiberius circled his hands in the air. "Her. Learn. All of it. There are differences here perhaps you do not understand, but it's a choice. This is the
first time any troll has mated with a human, but it's for the betterment of all our people. You will bring about a new age of elven blood."
Would he? Lucian reached for the tips of his ears, slowly dragging his fingers along the piercings there. "She doesn't have pointed ears, Tiberius."
"Maybe humans don't."
"Even with elven blood?"
Something was wrong here. He could feel it. He might not have been the warrior that his brother was, or the tactician their father had been, but Lucian had always trusted his gut. And right now, his gut was saying something was terribly wrong.