The forest
Resounded with a thunnnk…
As metal bit into wood.
Sunlight glinted…flashed…bounced
From the axe
As it swung…up…over…
Then plummeted…
Sinking deep into the felled tree trunk
Wood chips exploding…
Clouds of dust motes billowing into the air.
Corded muscles bunched…
Tensed…strained
In a rhythmic dance
Across back…down arms…
As hands yanked the blade
Out…up…down
Chest expanding…heaving…
Lungs rasping in time
With each swing.
Exhausted…the troll
Let the axe head fall
Against the spongy earth...
Placing both hands
Upon the handle heel...
Leaning into his arms…
Pushing…
Arching his back...
Stretching his neck...
To ease the stress.
Propping the axe…
Sinking to the ground...
He relaxed against the coarse bark.
Legs bent…wrists resting atop knees…
Hands dangling from wrists...
Sighing…relaxing…
As a subtle breeze
Cooled the sweat
Gathered along his brow.
Lids closed…
Heavy head dropped back
Upon the trunk…grateful for any pillow.
Oversized ears registering
Birds singing…bees humming…
Small animals scurrying...
But…nothing…human...
No need to retreat…
But always…ever ready
Should it become necessary.
Up since first light...
A good day's haul of kindling
Chopped.
He'd earned the right to rest a while...
To soak in…
The quiet…
The solitude…the isolation.
His lips curved…wryly
As if they hadn't been
His constant companions
Since the age of ten...
When his grandmother
Cast him out...
Terrified…
With only the clothes on his back.
He cringed inwardly…
Remembering
How she sneered as he begged.
Remembering…
How wounding the dreadful words
She'd thrown...fast and furious…
At his small…cringing back.
Words far more damaging…
Than the sharp stones
That had greeted him
When hunger finally forced him
Into Bean Town.
Orphaned…
Not by death…
But by birth.
Troll father…human mother…
A half-caste.
Unwanted…
Abandoned…
By sire and dam...
To the cruel ministrations
Of hate-filled troll kin.
Detested…
Reviled by both races
For the differences thoughtlessly…
Carelessly created
By his parent's reckless…
Furtive embraces.
So, rejected…
Shunned…
He'd fled.
Seeking solace
In the depths of the forest.
Sheltering in an abandoned lodge.
Surviving by wits…
Sheer will…
Determination.
Avoiding contact with all beings
Especially
Human and troll.
He shook his head…
As though the action
Might dislodge the pain
That too many memories
Converging bring.
Rubbing his eyes
With a calloused palm
He started to rise
Then froze in place.
A sound…
Barely audible to normal ears
Came bell-clear to his.
A voice…
Melodious…
Pure…
Singing.
Head cocked…
Hearing attuned...
He sought
The music's path.
And once determined...
Set off…
As in a trance…
Through the brush…
Drawn by the haunting sound.
Only to be brought up short
By the invisible barrier
Erected by self-preservation
Long ago.
Standing...
Wavering...
He fought a silent battle
With his fear.
Twenty of his thirty years
Spent hermited.
Safe...
Secure in the confines
Of the green wood.
Hunting...planting...to survive.
The dilapidated lodge repaired…
Rebuilt…
With skills
Learned from covert forays
To bordering Bean Town farms.
And with tools
Bartered from roving gypsies...
Reclusive tree elves.
His only friends...
The magic birds
That frequented the forest...
Who long ago came to understand
He posed no threat.
His overwhelming size...strength
Belying the gentleness
Of the heart within.
So, he became their paladin...
Rescuing them
From gypsy snares and nets.
And now…
To chase a phantom song...
He would forego all safety?
Leave his sanctuary?
But…
Something…
An inflection in the voice…
Not stopping to analyze
He pushed onward...
Following the siren call.
As the trees thinned...
As the song grew nearer…
In volume stronger…
The words clearer...
His blood raced through his veins...
Propelled by an exhilaration…
An excitement…
He couldn't explain.
Then…
Suddenly…
It was there...
Straight ahead…
Around a bend…
The source…
The singer.
Halting behind a massive oak
He leaned his forehead
Against the rough bark.
Closed his eyes…
Breathed deeply...
Exhaled slowly...
Relaxed…
Stabilized his pounding heart.
With caution born of experience…
Hugging the trunk…
He sidled around the tree.
Ever mindful
Of his unsightly appearance...
He masked his lower face
Behind an upraised arm.
Eyes alert…anxious…
He peered over his sleeve…
Scanning the tiny glen
For the ethereal soloist.
But…
Nothing…
Nothing...met his hopeful eyes
Only empty space.
Yet, the song continued…
The singer sang on…
From...some place…
High…
Above him.
Emerging…
Turning slowly
In a circle...
Puzzled eyes scrutinized
Limbs…branches…twigs
Of every tree.
A flash of color
Drew his gaze.
There…
Among a birch's leaves.
A bird…
A magic bird…
Singing sweetly.
A woman’s voice
Spilling from its vibrant throat.
A dagger of disappointment
Stabbed...
The troll winced in surprise...
Unable to understand
Why it should matter so.
The bird…
Observing the troll's distress…
Its curiosity stirred…
Stopped singing…
Descending unafraid...
To a branch
Just out of reach
Above his head.
[Unlike their cousins
In the Disenchanted Forest
The enchanted birds
Of the Fo-Fum Wood
Displayed feathers of brilliant hue...
Deep rich purple
Blending into lilac…
Heads crowned in gold…
Claws tipped in turquoise blue.]
Slapping at a nearby fern...
Head shaking in frustration…
Disgusted at his own naiveté…
The troll started walking back
Toward home.
Half a mile down the path
A thought struck.
Magic birds…
The ones he knew…
Produced no song…
No birdcall of their own…
But possessed the art
Of perfect mimicry.
The one…
Who's song he'd chased...
Had to have heard…
Duplicated…
The tune…words…voice
From someone…
Someone…
Real.
The singer did exist…
Someplace!
Hope reborn he spun…
[Praying his quarry
Had not yet flown]
Dashing pell-mell back down the trail…
Bursting through the undergrowth
Into the glen...
To find the bird
Still in place…
Preening…
A glossy wing hiding its face.
Winded…
Leaning over…
Hands resting upon knees…
Gasping…
Trying to catch his breath…
The troll studied the bird
From beneath rutted brows...
Devising…
Concocting his strategy.
Normal rhythm restored...
He straightened…
And so as not to alarm...
Deliberately…
Unhurriedly...advanced
Until he stood directly before
The bird's leafy perch.
The bird cocked her head
Focusing a sharp eye
Downward.
Spreading his arms…
Palms up
In non-aggressive pose…
The troll began his campaign
With compliments and praise.
Extolling her avian beauty…
Lauding the sheer artistry…
Talent…
Skill...
With which she performed
Her stolen song.
Downy breast swelling…inflating
With each flattering remark...
She accepted the homage
As justly due.
In the midst of his eulogy
[With downcast eyes
And innocent guile]
The troll
A careless comment threw…
Catching the bird in mid-posturing...
Causing her to flail upon the perch...
Her balance compromised.
Steadying…
Drawing up...wth haughty grace…
Staring down her narrow beak...
In dowager tones…
She demanded
The troll repeat
The words he’d uttered
Moments before.
Feigning surprise at such a response
He complied with her request...
Saying he merely thought
The quality...
Might have been
A trifle...
Off.
As though some timbre
Perhaps had been missed…
Omitted…
During her replicating process.
Feathers stiffened…
Sticking out
In hedgehog-spikes
From head to tail.
Shaking…
Vibrating with indignation…
Outrage…fury…
At the affront to its pride
The bird
Side-stepped
Quickly…
Up…down…
Back…forth…
Upon the branch...
Causing the leaves to shiver
In agitation.
Anger barely under control
She icily informed the troll…
That if he found her skill flawed...
Perhaps he'd like to judge
For himself.
Comparing her rendition
With the original.
Bowing low…
Stammering an apology…
Assuring the slighted bird
No offense had been meant…
The troll accepted her invitation…
Smiling inwardly
At the success of his subterfuge.
With a sniff of disdain...
The bird took wing...
The troll following…
Sprinting…
Hard pressed to watch his step
And keep the bird in sight
As it weaved…darted…zigzagged…
Amongst the trees.
Racing…chasing…
Dodging…through the wood...
Mulling over the possibility
She might be leading him astray
In retaliation
For his insult to her vanity...
The troll almost lost her…
Missed...
When she landed in an elm.
From its limb
She called down a warning...
They were near...
He should proceed
With caution…stealth.
Ferns...tall...feathery...
Bushes...thick...abundant...
Afforded cover as he crept...
Keeping close to the ground.
Ahead…
The sound
Of gently splashing water
Aided to further mask any sound
His approach might make.
In spots
The thicket thinned…
Allowing him glimpses
Of a forest pool...
Glistening blue-green
Sun-dappled surface
Gently agitated
By a fairy waterfall
Spilling like liquid jade silk
Over a pitcher lip of rock above.
Around its edges...
Queen Anne’s lace…
Cattails...
Swayed drowsily
In the breeze
Stirred by the cascade.
So caught up
In the enchanted scene...
He failed to note
The sound..
A woman’s voice…
A thread of melody
That drifted…
Floated…on the balmy air...
Mixing…blending...
Melding
With the fall’s background noise.
His head came up...
Attention finally caught...
Body inching forward…
Ears straining to decipher.
Without warning…
The words came clear...
The song’s theme
Comprehensible...
Catching him unprepared
For the feelings
They disturbed.
Not the words…
[Though significant]
But the pathos creating...
Motivating them...
Assailed his senses.
Winding…wrapping…
Enveloping…trapping...
Leaving him breathless…
Helpless....
Dropping him to his knees…
To his back...
Leaving him immobile
On the mossy ground.
Felled…
Not by magic…enchantment…
Or witch’s spell…
But by a single emotion…
Brought to life
By voice and verse.
An emotion
He had struggled
To ignore...
Survive...
Every day…
Since childhood.
Never daring to confront…
For fear the facing would prove
To much to bear...
So, suppression
Had become his shield.
Now…
That shield
Was stripped away…
Leaving him exposed…
Defenseless…
Forced to confront
The barrenness of his fate.
Blinded by tears
Too long unshed
He rolled…
Burying his face into the grass…
Soaking the ground
With thirty years of constrained…
Repressed
Loneliness.
So immersed in misery...
He never heard
The footsteps that approached...
Muffled by the loam.
Not until the gentle touch
Did he realize …
He was no longer alone.
Like a deer startled...
He bolted upright...
Almost toppling the figure
Bending over him.
Horror...
Panic at being caught in the open...
Far from home...
Washed over him.
Head bowed…
Teeth clenched...
Braced for the cry
Of disgust...loathing...hate...
Muscles tightening
To absorb the obligatory blows...
He waited…
Neither came.
Tentatively he raised his head
To find a woman...
Young...human...
Standing at his side
Head slightly tilted...
Anxious smile upon her lips.
Stepping back...
Hand raising reflexively
To cover his face...
Pausing...
When he saw
Her pale green eyes
Looked not at him...
But starred into empty air
Beyond his head.
His breath sucked sharply in
She reacted...
Locating him by the act...
Reaching out …
Touching his arm...
Sending a jolt of shock
Coursing through his veins.
Confused he started to yank…
Wrench his arm away...
But stopped…awed
By the first contact...touch...
Enacted by humane gesture…
Rather than fists and stone.
Patting...
Soothing the muscles
Taut beneath cloth and skin
The woman apologized...
In a voice sweet and light...
For intruding on his privacy...
But overhearing his distress
Could not ignore her conscience...
Leave him to his pain...
So came to offer assistance.
Was he hurt?
Wounded in some way?
The troll shook his head…
Then...
Realizing the gesture
Went unseen...
Found his voice…
Croaked out - No.
Much relieved…
The woman smiled...
And invited him to come...
Rest…
Talk with her awhile
Beside the waterfall.
Thunderstruck...
Staring down
Into her upturned face…
At the hand
That rested upon his arm...
Confronted...
For the first time since his birth...
With a being
Who neither judged nor accused
The troll was lost…
Knew not what to say…
Or do...
So…stood frozen...mute.
Mistaking his silence
For assent
She took his hand
Gently but firmly tugging...
As an older sister would…
When he hesitated to follow.
A bewildered smile
Nervously skimmed his lips
At the audacity.
Frantically he searched…
Probed…
Turned his memory
Upside-down, inside-out
For some clue
On how to cope
With this dilemma
But came up empty.
His contact with females...
Of any race...
Had been limited to
A few gypsy women
Who sometimes
Accompanied their men
On bartering quests...
And stood laughing
Amongst themselves...
Mocking...jeering…
Ridiculing...his countenance.
[Unbeknownst to him
Their eyes smoldered lustfully…
When following his tall,
Broad shouldered,
Narrow-hipped frame
As he strode...
With long-legged virile grace...
Amid their less favored mates.]
And his grandmother...
Who’s venomous voice
Malignant eye…withered heart
Plagued his fevered…uneasy dreams.
This woman…
Grasping him by the hand…
Unrepulsed...
Was contrary to any experience
Recalled…
Leaving him confused…
Disoriented.
She led the way...
Surefooted…confident…
Hesitating not a bit...
Evidencing long familiarity
With the layout of the wood.
Entering the clearing
She bade him sit
Upon a lichen covered ledge
And followed suit…
Settling comfortably
Next to him.
His hand freed...
At last...
Gripped its twin...
The knuckles bleached white
Attesting to his anxious state.
He couldn't breathe...
The ledge was too small…
Her proximity disquieting…
Unnerving.
Abruptly rising…
He sat upon the thick grass
At her feet...
Resting his elbows upon his knees…
Studying her
As she began to speak.
Older than he first had thought
Not yet his age…
But close enough
To no longer wear
The blush of youth.
Laugh lines radiated
From slightly slanted lids...
Cheekbones…high…
Nose…freckle-kissed...
Full mouth…used to smiling
But sadness hinted at
In its slight downward curve...
Skin…peached from the sun...
Auburn hair…plaited…waist length...
Body...sylphlike...
Disguising hidden strength.
Caught up in his reverie
He failed to note
The anxious frown
That creased her brow...
Until her hand thrust out…
A finger narrowly missing his eye.
At his startled yelp…
She drew back…
Relief flickering…reflecting
In both body and face.
She’d thought him gone…
He'd been so still…
Silent...
Giving no reply to her question.
She didn't wish to pry…
But lacking for company
She'd longed to hear...
To listen to…
Another voice
Beside her own.
Embarrassed…
He haltingly...huskily
Begged her pardon…
Confessing
He'd been lost in thought.
Mollified...
She repeated
The introduction made
Moments before…
Lise...
Is her name…
What is his?
Humiliated…
Ashamed
To admit
He’d never been given...
Had no...name.
He scoured his memory
For one to assume...
And recalled...
When...
In the year just past...
A trading party...
Three gypsies...
Two men...one young boy...
Had approached his lodge.
While haggling...
The troll noticed
That the boy…
[Though clearly a member of the tribe]
Stood apart...
Separating himself
From the other two.
When their eyes met...
Troll/human...Romany...
There had been a jolt
Of awareness.
The boy
Was not all he seemed.
Something…
Not wholly human...
Lurked beneath the youthful surface.
The child had returned his gaze...
Eyes...strangely elated.
And in that second
Both instinctively recognized
A kinship...not of blood...nor race...
But serendipity.
Freaks…half-castes both.
Their differences decreeing
Wary acceptance for one…
Absolute intolerance for the other.
Yet, both found comfort…
Solace...
In the knowing
That neither was unique
In his curse.
Their bartering completed
The gypsies took their leave.
At the clearing's edge
The boy turned...
His hand raising in farewell.
With heavy heart...
Regret...
The troll had returned the salute.
For a short time
He’d shared a bond...
However tenuous.
The boy’s tribe had been bound
For the Fourth Kingdom
To poach the Disenchanted Forest.
Their paths
Had never crossed again.
Now...
A year later...
He christened himself
With the child’s name...
Tybalt.
She repeated the name
As though savoring
A new taste…
A new sound.
He shivered...
Hearing it spoken…
Out loud.
Connected to him...
It was overwhelming…intoxicating
Exhilarating.
It gave him being…
Reality…existence.
The outcast…
The half-breed…
The monster...
Had a name.
They sat…
Woman and troll
Strangers…
Handicapped
By sight lost...
Visage maimed.
Linked…by the common thread
Of solitude…isolation…
Loneliness.
A fragile alliance forged
By the hungering need
To connect.
The dam...
Created by seclusion...
By companionship...
Was breeched.
Words came
Gushing…spilling…tumbling
From her lips…
Eagerly telling him all...
Asking him…everything.
He released his words
In fragments…
Carefully formed half-truths...
Allowing her to envision
An acceptable rendering
Of his life.
To her…
He was Tybalt...
Woodsman...
Orphaned early...
Abandoning village life
To make his way
Alone.
Hunting…fishing…
Bartering...
Gleaning the
Ripe harvest of the greenwood.
She…
[Blinded at age three.
Stupid accident…
Climbing a tree
To reach…
Sneak a peek...
Into a nest
Of screeching…
Hungry baby wrens.
Bark wet,
Slippery with dew...
Leaves sparkling
In the morning light...
Foot slipping…
Body falling…
Head landing...
Hard upon a stone.
Waking up...
To a never-ending night.]
...lived with a brother...older...
Gone to seek work
In River Town.
Three anxious months spent
Alone...waiting
[The journey was a hazardous one
She’d heard].
Each passing day
Without word
Chipped…eroded…
Ate away her hope
That he’d return.
Late
Into the afternoon
They conversed.
Unaware
When daylight waned...
That dusk was on its way.
The troll noticed nothing else
But her animated face.
Ignoring the approaching dark
Until her features
Began to blur...smudge
In the fading light.
The sounds of approaching night
Croaking...hooting...crickets singing
Finally broke through.
She rose...slowly...reluctantly
Marveling at how the time had flown
But it was late...
She’d best be
Off to home.
Disappointment...regret…
Warred within…
The troll.
[Mixed with a twinge of fear
That once she left…
She’d never come again.]
As he stood...
Awkward and unsure
She smiled…
Held out her hand...
Bade him goodnight…
With the hope
They’d meet again
Tomorrow...
There…
In the glen.
Miserable...
He’d accepted her hand...
Not fully comprehending…
Grasping what she’s said.
Then…realization dawned
Exhilaration washed over…
Through him.
A feeling so alien
He did not recognize it
For what it was...
Knowing only ...
Suddenly...
The darkness in his soul
Had been absorbed by light.
She departed…
He followed secretly.
Watching...guarding...
Until she reached
Her cottage door
Then retreated…
Melting into the dark.
Moonlight cast his shadow
Long…huge…black…
Across the grass
As he stood
Still as death...
Eyes sealed tight...
Hoping that...
By some miracle...
The air might retain
Some remnant of the day
For him to capture...
Absorb...preserve
To relive again...again
When reality resumed…
Set in.
[After all...
It had to have been a dream...
Or a puckish prank
Devised by some imp
For amusement...
Spite.]
Lids squeezed...
A tear coursed a silver path
Down the valley of his cheek
To drip…fall…
Unnoticed...
To his feet.
Stirring...rustling...foraging..
Emanated
From trees...water...ground
All around the dormant figure...
Sodden plopping nosedive
Of a frog...
Startled rabbit squeal
Cut short
As talons fasten.
From the mist
A plaintive childish voice
Called out
For help...
Lost...can’t find the way
Home.
Roused from his trance
The troll heard the cry
And grimaced in disgust.
A leshy…
Playing its loathsome game
To lure
The unsuspecting rescuer
To his doom
Within its fetid swamp.
[Malignancy
Of every sort
Permeated the forest
After light
Tricks...traps...
Snares...seductions
Abound...
Set to capture...seize
Those ignorant
Of woodland lore.]
Ignoring
The piteous call
The troll
Lay down
beneath a willow’s overhang
To sleep...
And wait for day.
The digging of a mole
In the earth
Beneath his cheek
Woke the troll.
Disoriented...he sat up
Surveying the area
Within which he lay.
The sun positioned
Directly overhead
Gave evidence
It was midday...
He’d slept the morning through.
As memories flooded
He lay back...stretched out
Arms pillowing head...
To ponder on the
happenings
Of the day before.
He heard her footstep...
The graze of her skirt
Through the brush
Long before
She entered the glade.
His heart
Spasmed...
Constricted
By a sudden...aching joy.
It had been no dream…
Illusion...fantasy
But truth...reality!
A twigged basket
Laden with apples...
Bread...butter crock...
Jar of jam...
Wine...
Hung from the crook of her arm.
Hidden...
Prone upon the ground...
Presence unannounced...
The troll watched
As she stooped
Settling her burden
Upon the ground.
Rising...stealthily...
Anxious she not guess…
Realize
He’d spent the night...
The troll reentered the glen
By a circuitous route.
As he made
His presence known...
Her head turned
Eagerly...
Smile spreading
Dazzlingly...
His name flowing
Easily
From her parted lips...
Hand outstretching...
Welcoming...
Offering
An apple.
Reverently
Accepting her charity
He knelt...
Overjoyed...content
To be once more
In her company.
Their visits…trysts continued...
Their friendship…bond...
Grew stronger ...deeper
With each passing
Day...week...month.
Spring’s greenery dried
In Summer’s heat...
Igniting...bursting forth
Into Autumn’s flame.
The forest reflected
Every change
Taking place
In the season…
In their hearts.
Lise’s songs now
Filled the woods
With joy...
Not melancholy.
Eager to give…
Something back...
A shelter...bower
He built
To provide her cover when
The weather turned inclement.
Strewing the floor with flowers…
Heady…aromatic herbs
To enchant her senses
If not her sight.
In turn…
She gifted him
With laughter...
Taught his mouth to smile.
An ability so small...
But vast
To one who’d never
Had the chance
or reason
To try.
One day
The fragile illusion
Of normalcy
Wavered...trembled...
Almost cracked
When she asked
To touch...
Explore the contours
Of his face...
‘See’ him
Through her hands.
Panic dug in its claws
Terrified
Her sensitive fingertips
Would discover...
Reveal the truth...
He’d denied permission.
[She’d never asked again
Yet, he knew...deep within
She wondered at the rejection.]
Leaves began their fall
Temperate breezes
Turned to chill
Forcing their visits
Indoors.
Long… delightful hours spent
Before the fire
Talking…basking in the glow
Of each other’s company.
He’d balked…
At first...
Declining her invitation
Troubled…anxious...afraid
His presence might be noted
By nearby neighbors...
Passerby.
But when the tiny cottage
Proved secluded…
Safe from curious...
Prying eyes...
His fears abated
And relinquishing his guard
Immersed fully
In the warmth…
Comfort of a home.
Mid-September.
Eventide.
Outside...
Rain skated lazily
Down the windowpane.
Inside...
Dragon tongues of flame
Licked ravenously…greedily
At the belly of the iron pot
Suspended within the hearth.
Stew bubbled merrily...
Flooding the room with
Mouthwatering scent.
The troll sat
Cross-legged
Before the fire…
Stirring the stew...
[Occasionally]
Smiling lazily
At the antics
Of the tabby kitten
Stalking…pouncing
Worrying his bootlace.
Lise
Leaned drowsily
Against his side...
Eyes closed…
Cheek pillowed
Upon his shoulder
Hair sweetly tickling
His neck.
His chin rested firmly
Against her curls...
Contentment
Flowed like wine
Through his veins
Lulling…dulling…
Clouding his senses.
The outside latch lifting...
Opening...
Sent his head whipping around
His body stiffening…freezing.
The shadowed figure poised
Upon the threshold
Mirrored his shock
As it took in the scene.
Neither moved…nor spoke.
The troll rose slowly
Eyes riveted
As deer to hunter
Never shifting…wary
As he helped Lise
To her feet.
His arm dropped…
He backed away
The stranger called out
Her name.
Surprise...hope...
Crisscrossed her face.
Dawning realization...
Joy...
Sent her running
Across the room
To be embraced
Tightly...lovingly.
Pressing
His sister's shaking form
To his chest
Ewan struggled
In desperate horror…
To understand how
A filthy …
Sickening…
Troll
Came to be in his house…
Alone with…
Its arms about…
His sister!
Too caught up in happiness
To sense the tension
Roiling in the room
Lise took her brother's arm
Drew him in…sat him down
Before the fire...
Helping to remove
His soaking boots and cloak.
The troll
Stood statue-still
In the shadows...
A sick taste in his mouth.
In the brother's eyes…
Boring into his…
Hatred burned…churned.
His mind reeled as though
A physical blow
Had ripped…torn into his gut.
Rain amplifyed
Then abruptly muffled
Was her first clue
That someone
Had left the house.
Hurrying into the room...
Calling out Tybalt’s name...
Her brother's voice
Answered instead.
He'd gone...
Without a word.
Confused…
She turned to Ewan...
Questions spilling.
A finger
Laid across lips
Hushed her.
Hands upon her shoulders
Forced her down...
Bade her sit.
Clasping her hands
Ewan began to speak…
Slowly...distinctly
As to a child.
She'd been tricked…mislead.
A vile deception
Had been played.
But she was not to blame
Should feel no shame.
It had been an easy ruse
Being she was blind.
She sat before him
Saying…
Expressing nothing.
Did she not comprehend?
Understand?
Annoyance
Nipped at him.
Raking hands through hair
Taking a deep breath…
Steadying…
He tried again
Intending to be blunt
No longer sparing feelings.
The man…
[He spat the word]
Was a troll…
Not full-blooded
[That was subtly obvious]
But it made him no less…
A member of that
Murderous...perverted…
Depraved race.
A smile
Lit her face...
So exquisite
He felt his heart break
Dreading the words
He feared she'd speak.
She loved him.
They hung there
In the quiet of the room...
Three little words
So powerful in their simplicity
He wanted to reach up
Tear them from the air
Erase their existence.
Leaping from where he knelt
He paced the room…
Stockinged feet
Drumming a harsh tattoo
Across the wooden boards.
Halting…
Throwing his hands
Against the mantel frame…
Glaring into the flames…
He cruelly spewed out…
Sparing her nothing…
That the creature in whose arms
She had laid
Was monstrous…hideous
His features malformed…
She has no idea…
How could he explain…
Make her understand?
He jumped when her hand
Touched his back.
Oh, how wrong he was…
Ewan heard her say.
She knows…
Has known
For quite some time.
Stunned…
He faced her
Grabbing
Her shoulders...
Fingers digging in.
No flinching…no cry of pain
Did she make
Simply stared back
As his eyes probed hers.
Hers...green as pale jade...
Were not quite as opaque…
Cloudy...
As he remembered them.
Disbelief…hope…
Spread through his heart.
Could it be...?
Was it possible...?
Eagerly…
Hard pressed to contain
Her excitement
She recounted how...
Over several months...
Her sight began to reappear.
Dimly…faintly…weakly
At first.
Shapes…forms…outlines only.
Then little by little…bit by bit
Increasing in clarity.
Not fully restored…
She did admit
But getting there…
Gradually...steadily.
Ewan pulled her close
Tears of thankfulness
Wetting his cheeks.
Gently…but firmly
Lise pushed…
Drawing back
In his arms.
And…in a calm
Determined voice…
Reiterated
She'd seen her love’s face.
Every unsightly…
Shocking feature
Fuzzy…out of focus…perhaps
But enough to know
It mattered not…
Never would…
She loved him…that much.
And planned to spend her life
As his…
If he so wished.
Ewan’s exultation
Turned to ash
At her words.
The prospect of an alliance
Between his sister and the troll
Was too grotesque...
Too revolting...
For him to bear…
Accept.
His loving embrace
Distorted into fury…
His hands gripping…
Shaking…her violently
To and fro
The room vibrating
With his roar
Of impotent rage.
How dare she!
Never would he consent
To such an outrage!
She would come with him
To River Town.
They would leave tomorrow.
Put this loathsome folly
Behind them...
Build a new life...there.
The troll had placed her
Under a spell…an enchantment
Of course…that was it!
And once removed
From his influence
All would be well…
She’d be herself again!
Wrestling from his grip
Anger…hurt…disappointment
Warring within her breast
She stood proud…defiant
Before him.
He could go…tomorrow…
Live his life as he pleased
But never would she follow
Her place was…would always be
By Tybalt’s side.
Yes, he could go to River Town
But she…
Was remaining there.
Turning sharply upon her heel
She walked with dignity
To the staircase…
Ascended…
The slamming of a bedroom door
Reverberated down the stairs.
Standing…body quivering...
Shuddering...
His thoughts in turmoil...
Ewan threw himself in a chair
Covering his face.
Tears…hot and anger fueled
Seeping…dripping like blood
Between his clenched fingers.
From the shelter of the woodbox
in the shadows
Two tiny…hazel eyes
Peered out
Saucer wide...
Hesitant…unsure
Whether it was safe
To venture forth once more.
A cock crowed…
Dawn was breaking
The precipitation passed.
Water dripped from leaves…eaves
Rivulets rivering through the grass.
In the glen a figure paced…
As it had all night…
In the rain.
Exhaustion…misery…
Anguish…
Epitomized in posture…bearing.
Such a fool he’d been
To have faith…believe
In Happy Ever After.
That happiness…love…
Finally…
Was in his grasp.
It’s done…ended…
All hope is dead
He’d never see...touch…
Be near her…ever…again.
Her brother would make sure of that.
He’d describe…reveal
In horrid detail...
The truth about the foul beast
She’d given her heart to.
Falling to his knees…
In the mud...
Before the pond...
He stared at the image
Reflected back.
Covering his face
In shame…
Cringing…
Envisioning the revulsion...
The look of horror that would
Cross her face
When she learned the truth.
The image was too much…
More than he could take.
His head fell back…
Grief howling…tearing
From his throat.
The forest grew still…
As though in deference
To his pain.
Drained…shoulders sagging
Head slumped forward
Arms hugging…
The troll rocked…
Groaning in agony.
A whisper of cloth…
A stifled splash
[As if
A foot slipped
Side-stepping a puddle]
Cut through the veil of misery.
He slowly raised his head
In disbelief...
Could it be?!
She’d come…
Had forgiven him!
Loved him in spite
Of his deception…
What he was!
With hope rising
Scarcely daring to breath
He spun around…
And caught
The plunging dagger
Deep
Within his chest.
Ewan cantered his horse
Down the road
That would eventually lead
To River Town...
His sister…
Their parting...
Weighing heavily on his mind.
He'd argued…pled…begged
Said things
Later to regret...
But still he could not bully…
Cajole…convince her to leave.
His brooding eyes
Fell to the stains
Dried black upon his gloves.
A ghastly smile spread…
At least he could find consolation
Knowing he’d left her safe…
Set her free.
With a shout he dug his spurs...
The horse leapt forward...
Hooves tossing clots of mud
In their wake.
Washing…straightening…
Cleaning...crying...
She tried to erase
The hateful…horrid things
Ewan had said.
So happy
To have him back home...
So very relieved
To have him gone.
How could things have ended
So badly?.
The kitten pounced
Attacking her hem…her feet.
Picking it up…
She stroked and crooned
As she walked aimlessly
Through the house.
Why today...
Must time tarry…
Drag its feet…
When she was
So anxious to be gone?
It was still too early...
No!
She couldn't...
Wouldn’t wait!
Hurrying out the garden gate
Her cloak caught
She ripped it from the nail
Hastening down the path.
She prayed
He'd be early.
Today…
She'd tell him today.
Reveal her secret.
She’d kept it from him...
Too long
But she’d seen the fear ...
Naked...undisguised
That had met her request
To touch his face.
She’d know then
How strong and deep
His terror ran.
She’d feared
[And rightly so]
He’d never
Be able to believe
The truth
That she could love him
The way he was...
And would disappear.
She must find some way
To prove to him
How wrong
He’d been.
Reaching the clearing
The first thing she spied
Was a shape…a body
Lying…curled upon its side…
In the reeds…
Half in…half out of the water.
The ground…the grass
All around…stained
Bloody pink…
The bright red blood
Diluted by the raindrops
Captured in the grass blades.
Resisting...
Denying...
Her mind refusing to accept
The truth of what
Her eyes are telling...
She sleepwalked
Toward the pond.
Unheedful of the mud…
The blood...
She collapsed beside the corpse.
With shaking hands
Pulling…tugging
The head into her lap.
Without feeling for a pulse...
She knew
He was dead.
No one could be so still…
So pale…so cold
And live.
Tenderly she touched
Her lips to his...
Their first and only kiss...
Then buried her head
Into his neck
And cried.
Through the morning…
Afternoon…evening
She sat
Cradling…rocking…
The body within her arms.
Shadows lengthened…
Chilling wind blew…
The moon lending
A deathly pallor
To the scene.
She did not leave…
Not physically...
But exhaustion…shock…
Sorrow at last won out
And she fainted...
Falling…limp
Across the body.
In the darkness of the pool
The spray from the waterfall
Flurried…twirled…whirled…
Faster…faster
Gathering…assimilating…
Molding…shaping into a being
Of living water
That rippled…rolled...
Undulated delicately upon
The surface.
A water fay...
Guardian…protector of the pool.
The fairy swayed
Considering the tableau
Upon the bank.
She had been privy to
All that had transpired there.
Now she waited impatiently
For Lise to waken
And heed what she had to say.
Liquid…icy…shocking
Forcing her to consciousness.
Fighting…struggling…resisting
She battled for oblivion
Until a voice called her name...
Pierced the coma
Reviving her.
Lids…grainy…tight
Vision…blurry…fuzzy…
Making it hard to comprehend
The translucent…sapphire vision
That rhythmically rose and fell
Before her…in the moonlight.
Relishing her return
To consciousness
Reality stabbed
Eager to resume its torture.
She became aware
Of the viscous mud...
The sodden gown...
The burden pillowed...
On her lap.
A soft mewling escaped
Her lips...
Melancholia began its descent.
A liquid arm flowed up
Then out
Spraying…showering icy drops
Causing her to flinch…gasp
Shiver…shake
Break free…snap out
Of misery’s debilitating grip.
Wiping water from her eyes
Lise watched in wonderment
As the fairy glided closer
Its bottom half
Forming a glistening
Gently twisting
Waterspout.
A voice…
Evocative of
Water lapping upon a shore...
Issued from a nonapparent mouth
Whispering...
That she could have him back
Restored to life
But…
[A dripping hand
Warned...
Halted Lise's hasty
Fervent response]
She must be willing
To give up…
Freely…
Without hesitation
That which would be
Demanded
To cast the spell.
Eyes shining with
A desperate hope
Lise cried out for the fairy
To take anything
She required.
No matter what it entailed
She’d give it gladly…
With no regret.
The water fay…
Swaying gently…
Assessed Lise in silence...
At last bowing her head
In acquiescence.
As Lise wished…
So it would be done
But first…
Her eyes
Must be removed
To seal the bargain.
Lise's answer came…
Swiftly…
Without falter…waver
Granting her permission.
Asking just one favor...
A moment to gaze
One final time
Upon her lover's face.
In the flickering light
Emitting from the sprite...
She drank in every feature
Every scar…trait…attribute
Burning…searing it deep
Into her memory...
Then raising her head
Offered the price
That had to be paid.
A fluid net
Cast into the air
Spread out…over…
Dropped down…
Molding…encasing
Lise’s head…
Skin-tight.
Unable to breath
She slumped
Unconscious
To the ground.
Twin points of green
Emerged from the net
Hovered in the dark…
Then disappeared...
One by one...
Into the pool.
Sparkling…shimmering
As they sank.
Hair grass...
Twisted into tentacles…
Stretched…
Searched…
Reached…
Wrapped…
Dragged…
The troll's body
Across the bank
Into the water
Pulling it beneath
The waterfall.
Waking…
Dazed...
Muddled…
Confused...
The troll groaned...
Attempted to sit up
Then sank weakly back.
His mind ajumble
With recollections
Jockeying…vying for position
Pictures flashing…collaging.
The only memories
Making sense...
Lise…fire…stew…kitten.
Arms bracing…propping
Legs bending…kneeling
Breathing…deeply
Squinting…bleary eyed
Trying to focus
On something white
Lying by his side
In the waning moonlight.
White…
Oval-shaped...
Features...
Face…
Lise!
Shock dissipated
The fuzziness in his brain.
All else forgot
But the lifeless body
Lying before him
Dress stained
With blood.
Pressing an ear
To her chest
His heart leapt…
A pulse…faint…but real!
Not lifeless!…
Yet!
Snatching her up…
Standing unsteadily...
His muscles threatening
To give way...
Trying to get his bearings
To think
Where to go!…what to do!
Decision made...
All fear for himself forgot...
He began to jog…
[Hurry]
Sprint…
[Quicker]
Run...
[Faster…faster]
Race
Through the wood
To the road
Toward Bean Town.
Dawn had broken...
The village was rousing...
Farmers were heading…
Yawning…
For their fields...
Shepherds had begun to herd
Their flocks to pasture...
Scullery maids were filling water jugs
From the public fountain...
Bakers sampling their fresh
Warm wares...
When the troll burst into
The village square
Racing…oblivious
Of the screams and stares…
For the physician's shingle
Swinging in the morning chill
At the end
Of the cobbled street.
Frantic…
Frenzied pounding…
Jolted the elderly doctor
Awake...
And he scrambled
From his bed...
Hastening to the door
To deal with whatever
Calamity had arisen.
The bolt had barely left
Its lock
When a heavy blow
Sent the door crashing
Back against the wall.
A huge figure shouldered
Past him...
Knocking him aside...
A muddied…bloodied
Limp body clutched
In its arms.
His lungs laboring for breath
Barely able to speak
The troll
In a silent plea
Held out his arms
His eyes pleading for
Help!
Momentarily rattled
By the sudden...violent
Invasion of his home
The doctor’s heart
Was moved
By the pitiful sight
Before him.
Quickly regaining
His composure
He beckoned
The stranger to follow
As he hurried
Down a hall…
Into his dispensary.
Placing his burden tenderly
Upon a couch
As instructed...
The troll knelt on one knee
Pressing Lise’s hand
To his chest.
Sternly…but kindly
The doctor ordered him
From the room...
Closing the door firmly
In his face.
Anxious…uncertain
The troll backed away
Retreating to the outer room.
Now that help was at hand
The enormity of his actions
And where they had led him...
Struck.
Surveying the room...
Crossing quickly...
He sank to the floor
Against the wall
Furthest from the
Windows...door.
Huddling...
Waiting...
In the shadows
For the doctor
To appear.
The troll’s head jerked...
He’d fallen asleep...
A door had opened...
Tensing…
He waited …
Stoically resigned…
For the angry mob
To pour into the room.
She was fine…
Was asking for him…
This last was told to his back
As he rushed
Past the doctor
Down the hall…
Sliding to a stop
Inside the door
Drinking in the sight
Of Lise
Sitting up
On the couch…
Smiling…laughing
Holding out her arms.
Neither heard
Nor were aware
When the door
Softly closed
It was past noon
When they took their leave.
The doctor
Impatiently waving aside
Their gratitude.
At the open door
The troll
Hesitated…
Pausing upon the threshold.
Trepidation…apprehension
Gnawing.
A slight shudder
Spread through his frame.
Squaring his shoulders...
Settling Lise securely in his arms...
Stepping out into the sunlight...
He started walking
With measured stride
Down the thoroughfare.
Eyes looking
Neither right nor left
But straight ahead.
The doctor...
Standing in the doorway...
Watched the retreating couple.
He sighed...
Struck a match...
Lit his pipe…
Shaking his head
At the tragedy…unfairness
Of Life…
Smoke wreathing his head
He gave a mental shrug.
Having seen the way
The man gazed down
At the woman snuggled
In his arms...
The love so
Bare...raw
Upon his handsome face...
The doctor knew
It mattered not
To him
That she was blind…
And never would.
If you enjoyed this poem, please let Mary-Cade know.
