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Blooming Thorn
Terakhir Diperbarui:
2024-06-07 21:21:31Bab terkait
The Troll Queen's Bride Prologue: A Flowering Thorn
Thick ebon blood boiled in the veins of the Troll Queen, black as congealed tar.The Beast's curse was bearing fruit.Queen Jarngrimr of the Sorrows waited on the frosty tip of Utgardr's tallest mountain, her steed - a blue roan marked with a white death mask, the gallows itself incarnate - whinnying as the Troll Queen's awaited visitor hiked past the mountain laurel and fir, the girl's stang helping with her belabored, fitful steps."I am here, dearest Jarnja. I brought you Lady Freida's most sacred treasure, stolen from the sanctum of her hall Folkvangr in Valhalla for a terrible price. It is all for you, in return for protection for my three children. This cursed rose is my only possession after this godsdamned truce, sweet Jarnja of the Sorrows, daughter of Wotan the Raven and Sithgunt the Seeress, guardian of the Isa tribe of my land of the midnight sun. Please. I have nothing left to give but the petals of this godsvow."The princess
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Hagalaz
As I stand in the Beast's rose garden, years down the line, I remember my first love. The thorns are aflame, the sky is scorching, and my heart is torn in twain:Between the Troll Queen, and my first love, once mortal, now a handmaiden of the warrior goddess.This is how my tale begins:We were sixteen summers old, but time for me, and my soon to be Valkyrie, was never enough.We strayed to the banks of the Maroon Sea Bay by midnight, my best friend and true heart's companion, the stable lass Yolanda, glimmering under Mani's moonlight like a Valkyrie of Mother Freida the Wanderer's own dauntless making. She was chosen by the Goddess for glory, after all.My sweetheart, the Lady of Love and Luck's fierce devotee, was bold and free and wild as she rode aback her stallion like a sunburst striking the gods' rainbow bridge of Bifrost, high in the stars above.Yolanda's long, wild, velvet black hair was a curling bear's man
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Spirited Away
That was the night - the first rosy night that my Beast began to call on me, and never, ever, ever did my monstress queen cease drawing me down submerged in to her unholy, trollish web.Now, I am never alone.By the candlelight after Skadhi had carried me to my room, me unable to stand, I slit my wrists that gloaming, my prayers to dead mama, Queen Aslaugh, unanswered.I could not give up the ghost. No, I was the Troll Queen's draugr – an undead scion, cursed. Now, I was of the zombie armies that had eaten father's berserkers alive.A grave of a girl. Belonging to none other than Jarngrimr of the Sorrows from mother's ill-fated curse, last of the Cunningfolk witches.The Beast peered back at me in my looking glass, the Troll Queen's red dead eyes cold and lustful. She smirked, a yellow fang agleam as she watched me with wicked delight and decrepit fascination.I picked at the black, black clots of blood, ignorin
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride In the Grimnr Shadow
"Come back with my letter from Dominic! Don't you dare read it," Yuri squealed, chasing Rosy out of my room at high horsepower full throttle down the tower hall.The windows had opened of their own volition, and a ferocious winter gale picked up, blowing my door slammed shut behind my wee sisters.The mourning dove's holly berries began to bleed, and the well fed bird discarded the overripe succulents onto my floor.The mourning dove fled to the peal of an elfin horn:"What was that call, just now? And that insurmountable wind like lindworm breath?" I murmured to myself, shuddering as I looked out the window:In rode a terrible train of huldre, Jotun, alfar and dokkalfar, dwarves, nixie, mara and trolls of the Dark Court from the depths of the woods. The Cunningfolk's allies in the Northern Holds of Utgardr, and Arcadia's sworn enemies.What were they doing here? How in Helheim did they get past mama's Magick barrier
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Skadhi
I was in a blue huntswoman's dress with red and white trim, the traditional Isa attire coupled with brown snowshoes, standing atop an icy fjord as winter snow piled high and impenetrable onto the mountain's blue gray peak.My patroness stood before me, ells tall like the wall around Asgard, as icy as the snow itself.The As goddess Skadhi, lady of the hunt, winter and skis, with her white wolves stood sentinel over me, and I knew it a familiar dream. Skadhi was the ancient patroness of my mama Aslaugh's Northern Cunningfolk tribe, the Isa. Known for her icy demeanor, wry humor, and frosty dominion, she was unparalleled among huntresses, and always made sure I knew it, too. She grew up saying she had hunted my soul from the Maroon Sea, and claimed me as her mead dark priestess, just as she had mama years before.Skahdi came to me in dreams often to teach me of my Magick, and as I stood in Northern Cunningfolk garb atop the glacial terrain, my breath s
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Mara
I jolted awake. There was a heavy weight on my chest, and damp soily hands squeezing my throat. My larynx popped."Oh, so the ridiculously clothed blonde awakes. Praise the gods, it's about damn time. Really, you're wearing minx of all things? Have you forgotten your Cunningfolk roots, what my kind and your kind are? We wear reindeer and leather and bearskin. We are wolves among sheep. We are lions among lambs. We are lindworms among caterpillars. And yet here you are, the simpering teenage princess the Queen is so infatuated with. You sleep as hard as if someone hit you over that thick skull of yours with a horse! Wotan's old eight-legged Sleipnir, in fact. Either that, or Wotan hurled Gugnir into your head and knocked you out!"I struggled for breath.She continued, my strangling demon: "Dear scheming Jarngrimr hasn't stopped blathering on about you since you were conceived. Tithe to Utgardr, she says, your blood the bridge between Arcadia and the
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Helvegen
Rosy clung close to my skirts as Fylja opened the long ebony doors to Jarngrimr's feast hall. Inside was a crystalline long hall lit by celestial blue Isa fire and otherworldly elfin plants that gave off strange, translucent glows. Nixies, fossegrim, wili, mara, dwarves, alfar, duergar, dokkalfar, and trolls danced among the huldrefolk and luxuriously dressed Northern Cunningfolk. A fossegrim fiddled on a golden violin, and there was a great frenzy of mead in horns as berserkers celebrated the capture of the princesses with their shieldmaidens in a tarantic reel, stomping the ground, feasting like the fire god Logi devouring an entire boar in Loki's eating contest.Jarngrimr of the Sorrows loomed over the long hall atop a lindworm bone throne, the great dragon skull carved at the snout to sit her beastly form. She smirked, her eyes collier fire, and watched me languorously, predatorily tracing the slight, delicate curves of my gown with her slit pupils like iron claws. Sh
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Gullinkambi
Queen Jarngrimr outstretched her taloned hand in invitation, her red eyes settled to a lustful maroon, and she smiled lopsidedly, as if she were Scarlip's daughter. I drew back, drawing my ivory dagger.Jarngrimr flinched, sighed, then sloshed the mead in her cup."You are still afraid of me." She licked some mead off the rim. I fixated on her cat rough tongue, then blushed, flummoxed."I'm not afraid of anyone." I lit the blade with Kenaz, fire."That wasn't a question, snowflower," the Troll Queen drawled, then yipped with laughter. Her furred breasts heaved and her mane sparkled in the blue light of the glowing fungus and Isa fire. "I can smell fear. It pulsates through your veins. Child, I am not here to harm you. I am here to drive infidel Latinate gods from Arcadia and the Northern Holds alike. King Hakkon betrayed his folk by burning his soul as offerings to Eleleth's fires, and now he is tyrant over the priests and Cunningfolk and
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-01-30
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The Troll Queen's Bride Blooming Thorn
Asmodeus' cruel face softens. “I don't mean to pry, Janet, but don't you tire of resisting? It must be exhausting. Loving someone you despise. Let go of that hate, crown jewel. It is only keeping you from flight.”My wing stains ache. I nearly knock my tea cup over in anger. “Who said anything about love?” I demand. I have never told a single soul besides Samael that I love him. It is a secret I desperately keep. How sad, a tithe in love with her Fairy King. The Fairy King wound up being Tam Lin, trapped by his own enchantments. True, he is in ensnared by me, but our magic goes both ways.Asmodeus whistles low. “Raw nerve, eh? There's no use hiding your desire from me, Janet. You were built for him. Your very DNA has Samael etched on it. Fetal contracts and all that. Your signature is your wings.”“I was built for no one besides Proust’s vast corpus of literature,” I say haughtily.Asmodeus assumes a patronizing look, as if he is indulging a petulant child. I hate it. “Don't lie to yo
The Troll Queen's Bride Full Circle
“You're the demon of lust. How can I trust you?” I challenge.Asmodeus laughs. “What? Afraid I'll light your passion afire for our dear Samael? I would never do that, crown jewel. Your will is your own, and Samael would abhor me for manipulating you. He wants to win you for himself, without outside interference.” Asmodeus strokes his chin in contemplation. “Also, I don't just preside over lust, Janet - I'm a businessman,” he adds as an afterthought. “I run Hell's casinos and gambling houses and bars and bordellos, you know. Demons are more than the classifications mortals arbitrarily assign us. You would know that if you made any effort to socialize with us. Even just a trifle of trying to be queen. Your throne grows cold in the Hellopolis, dove.”My face reddens. “I am trying,” I murmur.“No, you run away to your avant garde bohemian flat in Paris and paint the days away,” Asmodeus points out. “Is it any wonder my kind distrusts you? You haven't put forward an iota of effort to know S
The Troll Queen's Bride In the Heat of the Moment(um)
“No! You are a beauty, inside and out,” Suri reassures me. “You bring out the best in Prince Samael. He is cruel - all demons are - but he has a better nature you draw out. He has changed since he has known you.”“He's turned his cruelty on me, you mean,” I lament. I take a drag from the hookah to calm my nerves, tasting the flavored serpentine vapor. This one is bottled sea foam. It tastes salty and sweet as the smoke settles in my lungs, then I exhale and try to relax.Suri looks concerned.“I'm sure he can be... trying at times. Prince Samael has always been capricious. Mercurial. But he loves you fiercely. He shows that love for his fallen brothers and sisters. Surely he has shown it to you?”“He has, yes,” I say. “But I don't know if I'd call it innocent affection. It's a dark, twisted force. I would never trust him, not really. Please don’t tell anyone that, Suri. It could cost me everything I love.”Suri steeples her fingers under her chin. “He has your best interests at heart,”
The Troll Queen's Bride Sterile as Snow
“Why, of course, my little dumpling.” She fixes me a plate of sweet, wrinkled dates and a stick of roasted lamb with seared onions she grills with her own fiery hair of flames. I hand over the appropriate coins - more than necessary - and she grins. “Come, sit with me, Janet. Tell me what that strange device in your ears is. I do so love your tales”“Oh really, I couldn't bother you, you’re so busy, you’re my friend-”“No. It is no bother at all! I quite enjoy your company. Come, tell me of the human world. I have not been there for many centuries. Your stories are always so delightful.”“Alright then,” I agree. She ushers me into her tent and onto a divan. There is a hookah crafted from the fumes of dragon’s breath that she smokes, smiling lackadaisically. She encourages me to try it. I do, in between bites of kebab and dates.“This is an iPhone,” I explain, taking out my earbuds and playing music for her on the speakers. Allat and Izad are spellbound by the Runaways. Suri claps in de
The Troll Queen's Bride Beasts
A breeze picks up, spreading the cherry blossom petals to the breeze like rice thrown at a wedding. Samael catches a handful idly, crushing them between his fingers. I cringe at his act of destruction. He winces at my reaction and discards the pulp.“I didn't mean...” he trails off.“I know,” I say, too quick. I chew my upper lip, my cheeks burning. I am embarrassed for my show of weakness and even more for lashing out with violence. “I- I shouldn't have hit you.”“It's nothing. I’ve withstood much worse.”Cricket chirps and the gentle buzz of cicadas stretch in the silence between us. Fireflies light the air like will-o'-the-wisps.“I - I wouldn't mind if you told me a story,” I say.Samael looks at me in confusion. “Really?”“Yes, really. Like you did when I was young.”He smiles tentatively. “If you're sure...”“I am.”He rises, coming to sit beside me. He drapes his cloak over my shoulders to keep me warm. “Thank you,” I say.“It's nothing. Shall I - do you want me to begin?”“Y
The Troll Queen's Bride Tears of Lilit
I choose a Stephen King paperback – Salem’s Lot - from the lower shelves and struggle to decipher the pages, my curvy body sinking into the cushy couch. I’ve always been more size 12 than two, and look like those dumb pictures of Eve – soft sloping stomach like van Eyck’s Ghent altarpiece, pert breasts, and curving hips for days. The words of my chosen book all turn up like mush. The leather smells like the cigars Samael smokes, the spice of his orange and musk cologne, and rain. It smells like him. I close my eyes, inhaling the scent. Memories of him from my childhood haunt me, the man cloaked in shadow, the owner of my soul.The trauma of his words stretch across my mind: “How I will delight in breaking you.”I let out a soft cry, tears forming in my eyes. Here, in solitude, I can give in to the empty ache within me and cry over the childhood I never had, over the life I never will possess. I blot at my tears, cursing them.“Janet?” Samael asks with concern, suddenly materializing at
The Troll Queen's Bride Swan Down Arms
We reach the end of the hall. Samael utters a word in demonic speech and the great mahogany doors before us open. He enters the spacious personal library that fronts his quarters. Great windows peer out onto the moonlit courtyard that is surrounded by his rooms. The shelves rise dozens of stories into the air, built for winged beings, with narrow decks at each level that run the length of the library. Samael was thoughtful enough to install stairs for my use, seeing as I lack the necessary anatomy to fly between shelves. The library is one of the few treasures I now have, filled with books that span the ages and worlds. Classic human novels and new books line the bottom shelves, within easy reach for me. After human writers die, in Heaven, it’s said they continue writing even greater masterpieces, so books that never tasted mortal tongues are here – there are also a few damned romance novelists to boot. And of course, endless spell books.He's even included mysteries and psychological
The Troll Queen's Bride Porphyry
He helps me up. “I'm carrying you, Jean. Don't struggle.”“No! That's humiliating!” I yell, a loud maudlin. He does so anyways, lifting me up gently. His robes snake around me to stabilize me, and he folds his sooty owl wings to shepherd me away from the public’s eyes. I flail about, too disoriented to put up a united front, and end up with a mouthful of owl feathers.“What did you think would happen, pounding back all those drinks?” Samael says, his voice dry. He carries me out of the bar and further into the dusky hubbub of the streets. “You don't have a demon's temperament for alcohol, and you've never been able to hold your liquor.”“It's called drowning your sorrows, asshat. Alcohol is my crutch. The problem is you. Let me go.”“If I do, you'll fall again.”“I'd rather fall than be carried by you.”Despite my protests, he keeps me aloft, gliding like an omen through the streets. His robes are cold against my cheek, so eternally cold like his skin, just like the grave of his flesh.
The Troll Queen's Bride Enough
“Somehow, you snore like a foghorn. You look like Briar Rose, trapped in a thicket.” “Zzzz… eh?”“How delicate are the farts of a maiden who babbles in her sleep,,” Lussi drawls, naked, morning wood of his double serpent hemipenes crooked up like twin spears to the dawn. His prehensile cocks weep silky gold precum. My beloved husband idly watches me as the Arctic sun shines through the clouds of Vidagol. “Clear blue skies like sailor’s eyes,” he says. My husband’s amaranthine irises glow, his cheeks flushed as he draws the covers closer to my chin, then he tenderly leans into me, tracing the rise and fall of my breasts in fascination. “No lovelier creature has ever been made. I adore you. I worship you. You are all I want.”“Mrph?” I groan. My mouth stinks of sleep, and their is night grit in my eyes.He takes a deep whiff from my mouth. “Morning breath, as usual. Still cute.”I grunt and flip him the godsfinger. “Ten more minutes!” I groan, pulling the covers above my frazzled curls.
