Page 27
Story: Troll Queen
“I am fine!” Farrendel let himself yell. Magic crackled along his fingertips. “Stop hovering! I am tired of you ordering me around and constantly watching every move I make. I just need space and time and no one is giving that to me. Leave me alone!”
At the last word, magic flashed out. Weylind ducked, and a wall of branches flung up between him and Farrendel’s magic.
Farrendel tried to yank his magic back, but he could not stifle it quickly enough. Weylind’s protective branches were incinerated, but Weylind remained unscathed behind them.
Farrendel slumped against the wall behind him, hands shaking. Unlike Essie, Weylind was not immune to his magic. He would have been killed if he had not been fast enough.
This was why Farrendel had to stay away from others. He was far too dangerous.
Weylind slowly straightened, his hands held in front of him as if he was prepared to grow another protective wall.
Farrendel wrapped his arms over his stomach. “Please, shashon. I just need time. Please.”
“I know. I know that most times you can sort yourself out eventually. But, not this time.” Weylind waved in the direction of the main room, the hard expression softening into one of compassion. “Your wife is down there worried out of her mind for you. You cannot go on like this.”
Essie. Farrendel hunched, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor of the porch. He was hurting her by pushing her away, yet he would hurt her if she got too close. Either way, he had no choice that did not harm her, and it killed him inside. He sighed and rested his head on his arms. “I know, shashon.”
“Good.” The bossy older brother tone was back in Weylind’s voice. “Rheva is visiting her father right now and letting him know that you will be there to see him tomorrow morning, bright and early.”
Taranath, Rheva’s father, had helped last time Farrendel had spiraled this much. Seeing him was the right thing to do. For Essie’s sake even more than for himself.
But something inside him still turned stubborn at being forced to go by Weylind. He raised his head and met Weylind’s gaze. “And if I do not go?”
Weylind raised an eyebrow at him, meeting him stare for stare. “Then I will set Machasheni Leyleira on you.”
“You would not dare.” Farrendel glared back, though without any heat. His brother was playing dirty, pulling the grandmother card.
Weylind just stared back, though the corner of his mouth twitched in a suppressed smile.
“Fine. I will go.” At least being angry at Weylind had cleared Farrendel’s head and finally made him feel something besides the crushing numbness. A momentary reprieve, but welcome nonetheless.
Essie waited in themain room, huddled on the cushions. It had been nice to hug Averett and Julien before they had boarded the train to continue the rest of the way to Escarland, but it had hurt to try to smile and pretend she was fine even with Farrendel’s conspicuous absence.
Through the opening to the guest bedroom, she could hear Farrendel shouting, something she had never heard from him before. Was it wrong that she was relieved it was Weylind who was taking Farrendel’s anger right now?
After a few more moments, the shouting quieted. Then, Weylind reappeared in the wrecked doorway to the room. The set of his shoulders seemed less tense than it had been when he’d torn the door off its hinges and marched up the stairs.
Essie scrambled to her feet, her stomach still knotted. “How is he?”
“Things will get better.” Weylind awkwardly patted her shoulder. “One of us will be back in the morning. You and Farrendel are not alone.”
He was trying, at least, and Essie barely resisted hugging him. She had never expected Weylind would use his protectiveness for her like this. “Thank you.”
With one last nod, Weylind left, softly closing the outer door behind him.
Essie let out a long sigh, weary after the long day she’d had. With a deep breath, she faced the open door to Farrendel’s room. Now that she could go and talk to him, a part of her didn’t want to. She didn’t want to see Farrendel like this, nor was she sure how he would react.
But he was her husband. He was still her husband even when he was dealing with trauma just as much as when he was happy.
No more stalling. Essie squared her shoulders and marched up the stairs to the guest bedroom.
She found him on the porch around the back of the treetop room. He leaned against the wall, legs sprawled in front of him. His hair straggled across his forehead, unwashed and greasy. He was still wearing the same light green shirt and trousers as the last time she’d seen him.
It was the most bedraggled she’d seen him, except for the moment when she’d fought her way to his dungeon cell in the now ruined fortress of Gror Grar. This seemed almost worse since, in Kostaria, she’d expected him to look awful.
Essie sank onto the floor next to him, close enough she could take his hand if he let her, but with several inches between their shoulders. She didn’t say anything. For once, she didn’t have the words to fill the painful silence.
After several long minutes, Farrendel sighed, his head resting against the wall behind him as he stared up at the broad, red-gold autumn leaves of Ellonahshinel rather than at her. “Essie...you should go back to Escarland with your brothers. I just make you miserable.”
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