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2022-01-30 23:02:51
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The Troll Queen's Bride Wedding Song
“Perhaps we don't.” His lips curled in secret amusement. “How am I to know if my actions were not always God's intending? That the suffering my rebellion brought was all in His plans? I make choices, never knowing if the Lord's dictations are behind them, as He pulls strings of fate eons away...” He helped me down from the hearse and led me to the small path. “Would it surprise you if I still considered myself God's servant?”“Yes.”He smiled sadly. “I was never given a choice in my servitude, you know. It is a role I cannot escape, like a brand pressed over one's heart. No matter what I do, I will never be rid of it.” He dismounted the buggy and docked Pallor at the base of the oak tree. “The path continues on foot from here,” he said, helping me down.“What? Where's the grand entrance to the mouth of Hell?”“We're taking a back route so as not to attract attention.” He scouted the path ahead. “And what a lovely day for a stroll it is. Not a bit of blood-rain in sight.”
Last Updated : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Lussi
“Don't try it,” Samael warned “You're palate will burn to a crisp.”Gabriel clutched at his chest. “You wound me, Samael. Now how in the heavens have you survived his presence this long?” he asked me.“Must be my guardian angel.”Samael snorted and Gabriel laughed boisterously. “Good one. I like her, Sam. She's got spunk.” He focused on me, grinned, and took a sip of wine. “So I hear you're an atheist, eh?”“Sort of.”“Good. I wouldn't believe in me either. My existence is ridiculous- I mean, look at me. Rainbow wings? Totally clashes with my hair. Don't know what Father was thinking, eh Sam?”“Not this rant again,” Samael groaned.“I'm just saying. I mean, colorblind much? How am I supposed to be taken seriously during the Annunciation when I look like a technicolor nightmare?” He ran his fingers through his golden curls, mussing his hair, and grinned devilishly. Ethereal tattoos flashed on his skin. “What do you think, Fianna?”“You look beautiful,” I stammered, the
Last Updated : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Eleleth's Heir
5,000 Years Later:Once upon a time, a dying father sold his child to the man of many names.Death is a judge, but he is also a lawyer, and he makes fit the scales of life to balance with his gall. Life for a life, blood for rain, and never a rose without a thorn. Stains of the earthly kind do not wash out, not when they are upon the soul, and the father’s girl was wine red. Born kicking and screaming with a birthmark in the shape of wings on her back. Her mother died in labor, for no one cheats the Reaper.The Devil always gets his due, and tithes to Hell named Janet end up betrothed to infernal Tam Lins. There is not much justice in fairytales, and Sam Hill takes all in time.Seven winters pass. She has the face of a starving angel. Her mother dies in labor in Bethlehem, one of the many Bethlehems that have sprung up since a mad messiah walked wild in the desert long ago with thorns and roses in his hair.The father does not remember his bargain.Each night, she has a visitor.“Daddy
Last Updated : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Hieros Gamos
Janet curses the corpse below her. Her back itches, where her blood tattoo is, like wings flexing. Like she is trying to flee the cage of her ribs. Were that she could shed her skin and let pinions poke through fierce and mighty, taking her aloft to the skies. There is nothing on the ground to tether Janet here anymore, not with her father gone.Janet’s mourning veil drifts in the stormy wind. The roses she carries wilt, white as the touch of death. Her breath mists like a ghost. She waits at the mausoleum’s steps.“I know you’re there,” she whispers.A crow caws in the dripping pine.She draws the china doll from her purse, her hands clad in calfskin gloves. The shadow takes it from her, his horror and agony brushing against her skin. His touch is like winter’s bone.“Such a fragile thing. How charming.” The thick shadows recede. They reveal the pale cold one. Sam Hill grins back at her. He holds the china doll, places it atop her father’s coffin. “We will bury her, but not yet. It is
Last Updated : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Alexandria
I suppose I have always known him.He is etched on my hands like indigo dye, the bright stained-glass blue of his iris embedded in my skin. I cannot look at my fingers without thinking of how his interlock with mine. It is a strange thing to know your flesh is haunted. When I look in the mirror, I see him, grinning arcanely back at me.I know that in the womb, he molded me to his will - I am as much his creation as God's, perhaps more so than the Lord lays claim to me. Like my old china doll, he crafted me, with pale skin and copper hair. He says I am delicate as a robin's egg, with eyes like silver coins to pay the ferryman across the Styx.My fate is inscribed on my palm in indecipherable lines. Only he can read them. What he utters ices the marrow of my bones: “I have written my memories into you.” He read stories from my hands in my youth, would tell me tales of a Paradise long lost. Whether that place is now dust or a graveyard, I do not know. Still, he longs to return to Gan Eden
Last Updated : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Malik
I rest my forearm atop his. Silent, we walk through cobblestone streets, jaywalking and dodging traffic. A bakery warms the wind with delicious scents. The crowds part, subconsciously making way for the Shadow Man and his betrothed. A gale follows Samael; black ice blooms in his wake. Nature curls up and dies at his touch, and my hand burns cold where it meets his, like freezer burn.My wing stains shift their birthmark shape, and I wonder what they will look like tonight. Canary, eagle, sparrow, hawk. Perhaps some kind of owl. I’m feeling vaguely vespertine. I have an Audubon Society book that I’ve used to decipher the port wine stain shadows. Like silhouettes of avians in flight against an iron sky. It is my favorite feature.Samael pauses as if eying a reliquary.“What?” I say.Frosted ivy husks twine over a trellis that stands at the entrance of a darkened alley between two brownstones. Samael grins like a shark, baring sharp teeth. “Perfect,” he hisses. His eyes gleam. Samael smoo
Last Updated : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Sidhr Tree
He laughs, wiping spittle from his cheek. “But you love me.” It is more of a question than a statement.I cannot deny the twisted affection I have for him. He is a lungful of air ten leagues under the sea. The only thing that makes sense in this cold world.“Love is a disease,” I say, toying. That is my favorite game, playing with him. Just as he plays every day with me. Leopard and mouse.“Everything is fatal. Why not gamble, peach princess?”“Because I've never been lucky.”“Fair point.” He lets me go and reaches into his pocket, withdrawing a cigarette. He spits sparks onto the end and lights it. “But a promise is a promise.” He takes a contemplative drag. “Your father said you would be mine. And so you are. The seven times three tithe to Hell.”“What about my choice? Don't I choose whom I belong to, hmm? Are you so centuries out of fashion feminism has yet to dawn on your archaic empire?”He smirks again. “You chose a long time ago. In the womb. I came to your sleeping soul and ma
Last Updated : 2022-01-30The Troll Queen's Bride Lucia
I bristle at the driver's judgment but say nothing. True, it’s bohemian beyond belief, but it fits my aesthetic, I*******m be damned. Samael settles into the seat beside me. He casually rests an arm over my shoulder, as if we are an idyllic couple caught in a winter storm. Not the king and future, if ever, queen of Hell arguing over a centuries outdated institution meant to control women. He doesn’t even have a last name I could take. Jean Doe.We drive past the Arc de Triomphe. Snow drapes the ground like a fur coat.“Here you go,” the driver huffs, turning onto sleepy Rue Merlebleu. He eyes the Rimbaud Building skeptically, with its Gothic architecture and converted cathedral exterior. The driver mutters under his breath, depositing us on the cobblestone sidewalk.Sam helps me out of the taxi with long, muscled arms. We make our way to the elevator, all gold metal, with painted cherubs on the ceiling. He smiles at the angels in a predatory fashion.“So,” he asks, “what is the subject
Last Updated : 2022-01-30
Latest chapter
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.
