#desperation's summit

When Cordelia awoke the next morning, it was to a pounding head, a lung wracking cough, and a fever. After a loud sniffle, she added 'sticky congestion' to her list of ailments. Trying to ignore the agitation of being ill, she shifted and her eyes slid around the room.

Upon entering Rakash's room last night, she found a rough-hewn desk and chair a top of pelt-like rug and books in an array of amateurish to professional binding. She didn't know if the books belonged to Karina or if they were legitimately bound Trollish texts and her exhaustion had outweighed her curiosity. There had also been a large fireplace, attached to the one in the main cabin room, she thought.

It took her a few minutes to locate the stairs that led to the mezzanine-like partial floor above, where his more bed and dressing area resided.

On the left side of the bed, morning light squeezed between panels of a curtained window. A large, foldable privacy screen sectioned off a small area of the room, flanked by a heavy, crudely made armoire. Her eye caught on the occasional tunic or discarded sock, reminding her she was in Rakash's domain. As if the scent lingering in his blankets wasn't reminder enough.

Vague snatches of last night danced through her mind. Her run-in with the thrall, the magic that had sizzled from her fingers, Rakash's confessional backstory.

Cordelia rubbed her fingers against the blankets swaddling her, as if she could erase the phantom sensations still burning there. While getting the medicine for Ebra, she had quietly sworn to not indulge Rakash, flirtatiously or carnally. He had disappointed her. She didn't bed people who disappointed her. Or that's what she told herself.

Avoiding the thoughts lurking at the edges of her thoughts, she considered whether she should attempt to venture down the stairs, despite her body's preemptive twinges, and to the kitchen for food.

"How're you feeling?" As if summoned by her consciousness and appetite, Rakash appeared from the stairway with a tray gripped in his hands. The shadows under his eyes had returned, making his features as grim-faced as the first time they met.

Strangely, something felt something was softer about him. Though that might just be thanks to her illness.

"Peachy," Cordelia croaked, her throat aching. Uncomfortable heat, unconnected to her illness, crept into her cheeks as she remembered her impromptu bath last night.

Rakash brought the tray closer, setting it on the bedside table with a soft clack. Without warning, he pressed his palm to her forehead. It took Cordelia a breathless beat to understand what he was doing just before he hummed in consternation, "I was worried this would happen."

"What?" As he stepped back, relieving her of his cooler palm, Cordelia eyed the offerings on the tray. Thick greyish glop steamed in the bowl. She presumed it was oatmeal or gruel. A mug with a greenish yellow hue that was hopefully tea. A piece of toasted bread and - amusingly - a small bowl of fruit sauce.

Faintly, she wondered if a trolling or three had assisted on this breakfast. If so, then they were all feeling well. That eased an unexpected knot in her chest.

Also among the food was her bound journal. An odd offering, she thought, before she remembered. It was the journal with the proportions for the medication scrawled in it. Rakash picked it up, waggling it in the air gently. "Tell me the measurements."

She blinked up at him, not quite understanding before realization hit her. Ah... it waswritten in Common, wasn't it?

That didn't explain why he wanted to know about the medicine now. Her eyebrows furrowed further, a slow mounting dread sinking into her chest. "Why? Your kids are fine, aren't they?"

"For you." Rakash tipped the journal closer to her head but stopped shy of lightly bopping her on the forehead.

Oh, that was why? Cordelia swallowed down a sigh of relief, that cold dread dissipating. Not even looking at Rakash, she dismissively waved her hand. "I'll be fine. It's just a cold."

Rakash narrowed his eyes, his features darkening for a second. He supposed he should be relieved she was back to being obstinate, but her tone rubbed him the wrong way. Something lurked between the words. It reminded him of her words the other night, when she asked if she looked like a "creepy, death-dealing mage."

He realized it hadn't been disgust that colored her tone then. It was disbelief. How could she be a mage? It seemed strange that Cordelia couldn't imagine herself being something.

Quietly, he watched her daintily spoon some of the fruit sauce – a concoction the kids swore she'd enjoy – into her mouth. She swallowed slowly, face pinching with a subdued flinch indicating her throat was raw. At least she went for another bite, which would hopefully fuel the fight inside her.

As he watched her eat, he considered how to convince her to allow him to help her. Maybe she didn't want to rely on him. Or maybe she just liked lording her abilities and capabilities over him. Though, that didn't seem the case, given the last twenty-four hours they'd endured. So why would she fight his assistance?

He supposed it didn't really matter. Cordelia was an adult and could do what she wanted, even if it caused detriment to herself. But something about how she spoke of herself nagged at his thoughts. Further, if she did get worse, would she be able to tell him the correct instructions for the medicine? His lips thinned at that thought. He really didn't want to lose her thanks to her own stubbornness, let alone to an illness he had medicines to combat.

Medicines he possessed specifically because of her.

An idea sparked through his head, forceful and warm. Before he thought too long in it, Rakash stepped forward, grabbed Cordelia by her chin, and stooped over her.

Her body went rigid at his touch. Heat bit at her cheeks and she wildly wondered if this was a fever or blush. Either way, a surprised squeak left her as he forced her gaze up. "What are you doi—!?"

Cordelia's body froze as Rakash swept down and caught her lips. She became very aware of the weight of the tray on her lap, torn between tossing it at the troll and holding it tight to ground herself. She also became agonizingly aware of the chill on one shoulder, where her nightgown had slipped low.

His heat eased the stiff ache in her muscles, the cold from her bones. Tired and weak, Cordelia let her eyes flutter shut, leaning into the kiss, and tilting her head a little. Her cheek brushed against one of his tusks as his tongue breached across her lips.

Despite the suddenness, the kiss was achingly tender. The affection made Cordelia twinge with need on a level entirely different than carnal. Something that battled against the pangs of illness, craving more simple touches versus salacious need.

When Rakash pulled away, Cordelia's eyes dazedly blinked open. She was greeted with his grin spread beneath his tusks.

"Oh no, I've been exposed to this highly contagious sickness." His deadpan words couldn't hide the smug glint in his eye as he leaned back. Once more he held up the journal and waved it in Cordelia's line of sight. "And if I get ill while my children's nanny is sick, there will be no one to care for the triplets."

She blinked up at him, eyes round and cheeks aching where his stubble razed her softer skin. Trying to ignore the embarrassment rising in her, her eyes narrowed. "Oh, you are absolutely wretched."

"As you've said before," Rakash sighed, though the slight curve of his lips betrayed his self-congratulations. Again, he waggled the journal in front of her. "The measurements?"

Cordelia had half a mind to ignore him. Stubbornness and spite didn't want to give into him, especially after he'd kissed her without consent! A small part of her knew she didn't actually mind, since it was Rakash. She shoved that small part to the deeper recesses of her brain, hoping it would never be seen again. He was just looking out for her stubborn self, since without her he'd be alone to care for his kids.

With that thought in mind, Cordelia sighed and relented.

"Zalmir and Kazri got quarter doses as precaution, while Ebra got a half dose for symptoms. Adult humans get full doses. I'm not sure about adult trolls, but I bought enough for ten human adults, just in case." Taking the journal, she flipped to the pages with the doctor's directions. After she indicated the measurements, describing how to differentiate between the ingredients through description or labeling, she shot him a withering look. "Happy now?"

Rakash took a moment to consider her instructions as he rubbed his chin. Once he relieved her of the journal, she pressed back against the pillows, glaring down into the bowl of oatmeal. She fought to convince herself that the way he mumbled the instructions back to himself, personalized for his own understanding, was not making her heart flutter.

When Rakash was certain he had a strong understanding, he flipped the journal shut – keeping a finger on the page to keep his spot – and glanced down at Cordelia. She refused to look at him. Her cheeks were a deeper shade of pink than a fever warranted and small bead of guilt pulsed through him.

It wasn't enough guilt to regret forcing her hand. Still, his voice was soft and gentle as he said, "I think I have it. Thank you."

Only when Rakash turned to leave did Cordelia bring her eyes up, glowering after him. As he descended down the stairs, and out of her sight, she remembered her food. Forcing her attention to the tray, she forced herself to eat while fending off nausea and suffering her sore throat. Another uncomfortable sensation had taken root alongside the queasiness. Something that she, yet again, didn't want to look too closely at.

x x x

Days passed and Cordelia's health slowly climbed closer to what one could call healthy. It was aggravatingly slow compared to Ebra's exuberant return to boisterous health. When she accused Rakash of getting the medicine measurements wrong for her, he calmly reminded her she also had a run-in with a thrall, which may have slowed her healing process. Even more infuriating was the fact she couldn't argue against that.

Even with her sniping, Rakash continued to bring her food, a change of clothes, and an allotment of medicine every day. His attentive behavior made the feelings in her chest tangle even tighter.

Worse, he always settled on the edge of the bed, side to side with her, watching closely as she drank the tonic. It was like he didn't trust her to take her medicine and on a few occasions she had half a mind to spit it at him. She never did, of course. It would have been a waste of medicine, but the temptation was there.

These were Cordelia's musings as she accepted the tonic from Rakash and as he settled beside her on the bed.

Imagining the shock that would paint his face made Cordelia vaguely smile. Of course, then his shock would give way to anger. Maybe even a scowl or a baring of teeth with a curled lip.

Cordelia had fallen silent, as she was wont to do during their newfound morning routine. Rakash chalked it up to her not being fully awake just yet. However, a few days had passed and she'd gotten better over that time, making him want to gauge her health.

He settled on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the headboard but not looking straight at the human woman. "How are you feeling today, Delwi?"

Thankfully, Cordelia had already gulped down the remedy, or else she may have choked. Heat sparked up her, hearing him call her the nickname she grudgingly allowed the trollings to use. The rush of blood to her cheeks made her skin burn as she shot a glare up at Rakash. "You do not call me that!"

"Why not? My kids do." He bit down a grin, watching from the corner of his gaze as the woman visibly bristled. A few days ago, she wouldn't have taken the bait. Opting instead to burrow further into the blankets, while half-heartedly complaining about his stench on them.

"This may come as a surprise to you, but theyare toddlers whereas you are not." Cordelia sniffed disapprovingly at him, settling the cup to the side as she dragged her spoon through the broth he had brought for the midday meal.

"So you noticed," he returned, the ghost of a smile dancing at his lips as his eyes hooded suggestively.

If this was how he interacted with his late wife, Cordelia could almost see his appeal. The irate edge of his voice had softened over the last few days, sounding far smoother than it had since she arrived. Rolling her eyes, she ignored the observation and clung to agitation. "I've barely noticed the difference."

To that, Rakash snorted.

"What?" Cordelia shot back at him.

"You either haven't met many children or know some awfully large ones if you could mistake me for a toddler." He leaned toward her, raising his eyebrows. At some point in their conversation, he had extended an arm behind her shoulders, along the top of the headboard. With her hair plaited and pulled over her shoulder, a vague thought realized he could coast his fingertips along the nape of her neck.

If he wanted to, of course.

"This may be hard for you to understand but I was speaking figuratively, not literally. You do understand the difference, don't you?" She narrowed her eyes at him, funneling haughtiness into her tone. Part of her didn't think he was listening. His gaze seemed angled behind her and Cordelia suddenly felt the open air on her bared skin there. The ambient heat of his arm taunted her.

"Barely." Rakash leaned closer toward her, arm sliding further along the headboard in an attempt to ease the itch in his fingers. Her body language tensed, the faint pink on her cheeks darkening as she turned away from him with a huff and returned to her soup. Like how his body heat teased Cordelia, hers tempted him. The last few days of taking care of her, coupled with his gratitude for her interference, had further softened him to this arrogant woman. It didn't help that his 'stench' and her scent were intertwined in his bed now.

He found his eyes drawn to her lips more often, especially as she ate, recalling the smallest of sounds she had made during their sudden kiss. His fingers curled, knowing how soft she was from that very first night. When he had accidentally stolen her away. Sitting with her under his arm, Rakash knew he would have willingly made the same mistake again.

The thought struck him like a club over the head and he sat straight, averting his gaze with his arm falling off the headboard and to his own side. Rakash had to remind himself Cordelia was not happy with the circumstances. Even if he wouldn't change his actions, she'd surely wish otherwise. That notion spun around his head, even when she shot him a curious look as he retreated.

If he was a lesser man, he could have convinced himself she was disappointed at him moving away.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Cordelia quietly eating and wondering why he'd suddenly pulled away. Rakash continued to sit on the edge of the bed, leaned back against the headboard. A safe buffer of space had squeezed between them.

It was Rakash who broke the amicable silence as he turned toward Cordelia. "Do you feel well enough to get out of bed today?"

She paused, shooting him a suspicious look with her spoon clamped in her mouth. The momentary relief of his eyes being turned away from her as she ate fled as a breathless sort of apprehension crawled back into her chest. Why she suddenly felt fidgety under Rakash's gaze, Cordelia didn't understand.

With that though securely in place, her eyebrow raised cynically as she eased the spoon from her lips. "So eager to put me back to work?"

Only with willful determination did Rakash not let his eyes drop to Cordelia's lips and watch the utensil slip from between her lips. Well, determination and curiosity to see her reaction to what he had planned. "No, I have something to show you."

Cordelia's nose wrinkled with preemptive disapproval, her thoughts swinging back to their previous discussion. She ignored the bite of heat on her cheeks as she said, "This doesn't have anything to do with you proving you're bigger than a toddler, does it?"

"No," he snorted and shook his head, unable to keep his lips from twitching into a grin. "Though, if you ask nicely, I might be inclined t—"

His teasing words were cut off as a flustered Cordelia flung a pillow into his face. As he chuckled into the cushion, she faintly realized that weeks ago she'd been perversely curious how Rakash looked when he smiled, when he laughed. Now, she was woefully unprepared for that expression on his lips, so close to her own face.

She could have leaned over, closed that distance, and—

Before Rakash fully lowered the pillow, a mass of blankets rained down on him. Cordelia scrambled from the bed, moving her bowl of soup to the bedside table with her mug of tea.

"A momentary change of scenery should be fine," she primly trilled as she staggered on semi-wobbly legs to the little heap of her clothes that sat on a small chest by the privacy screen. In her effort to gain distance from Rakash, Cordelia didn't notice when he pushed the blankets off. Nor did she notice how his eyes followed her.

With the light from the window through the thin material of her chemise, memories of her nude form kneeling beside him washed over Rakash's thoughts. A lump formed in his throat as heat raged in his center. When did it become so warm in the room? Taking a deep breath through his nose, he averted his gaze and stood.

"I'll wait for you below as you get ready," he said and headed for the stairs. She didn't seem to care or notice, he thought, as he descended to the safety below.

Sorting carelessly through her clothes, not really seeing what she was picking up, Cordelia listened to Rakash leave. Try as she might, she couldn't ignore heart thrumming noisomely in her chest.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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—

When Cordelia awoke the next morning, it was to a pounding head, a lung wracking cough, and a fever. After a loud sniffle, she added ‘sticky congestion’ to her list of ailments. Trying to ignore the agitation of being ill, she shifted and her eyes slid around the room.

Upon entering Rakash’s room last night, she found a rough-hewn desk and chair a top of pelt-like rug and books in an array of amateurish to professional binding. She didn't know if the books belonged to Karina or if they were legitimately bound Trollish texts and her exhaustion had outweighed her curiosity. There had also been a large fireplace, attached to the one in the main cabin room, she thought.

It took her a few minutes to locate the stairs that led to the mezzanine-like partial floor above, where his more bed and dressing area resided.

On the left side of the bed, morning light squeezed between panels of a curtained window. A large, foldable privacy screen sectioned off a small area of the room, flanked by a heavy, crudely made armoire. Her eye caught on the occasional tunic or discarded sock, reminding her she was in Rakash’s domain. As if the scent lingering in his blankets wasn’t reminder enough.

Vague snatches of last night danced through her mind. Her run-in with the thrall, the magic that had sizzled from her fingers, Rakash’s confessional backstory.

Cordelia rubbed her fingers against the blankets swaddling her, as if she could erase the phantom sensations still burning there. While getting the medicine for Ebra, she had quietly sworn to not indulge Rakash, flirtatiously or carnally. He had disappointed her. She didn’t bed people who disappointed her. Or that’s what she told herself.

Avoiding the thoughts lurking at the edges of her thoughts, she considered whether she should attempt to venture down the stairs, despite her body’s preemptive twinges, and to the kitchen for food.

“How’re you feeling?” As if summoned by her consciousness and appetite, Rakash appeared from the stairway with a tray gripped in his hands. The shadows under his eyes had returned, making his features as grim-faced as the first time they met.

Strangely, something felt something was softer about him. Though that might just be thanks to her illness.

“Peachy,” Cordelia croaked, her throat aching. Uncomfortable heat, unconnected to her illness, crept into her cheeks as she remembered her impromptu bath last night.

Rakash brought the tray closer, setting it on the bedside table with a soft clack. Without warning, he pressed his palm to her forehead. It took Cordelia a breathless beat to understand what he was doing just before he hummed in consternation, “I was worried this would happen.”

“What?” As he stepped back, relieving her of his cooler palm, Cordelia eyed the offerings on the tray. Thick greyish glop steamed in the bowl. She presumed it was oatmeal or gruel. A mug with a greenish yellow hue that was hopefully tea. A piece of toasted bread and - amusingly - a small bowl of fruit sauce.

Faintly, she wondered if a trolling or three had assisted on this breakfast. If so, then they were all feeling well. That eased an unexpected knot in her chest.

Also among the food was her bound journal. An odd offering, she thought, before she remembered. It was the journal with the proportions for the medication scrawled in it. Rakash picked it up, waggling it in the air gently. “Tell me the measurements.”

She blinked up at him, not quite understanding before realization hit her. Ah… it waswritten in Common, wasn’t it?

That didn't explain why he wanted to know about the medicine now. Her eyebrows furrowed further, a slow mounting dread sinking into her chest. “Why? Your kids are fine, aren’t they?”

“For you.” Rakash tipped the journal closer to her head but stopped shy of lightly bopping her on the forehead.

Oh, that was why? Cordelia swallowed down a sigh of relief, that cold dread dissipating. Not even looking at Rakash, she dismissively waved her hand. “I’ll be fine. It's just a cold.”

Rakash narrowed his eyes, his features darkening for a second. He supposed he should be relieved she was back to being obstinate, but her tone rubbed him the wrong way.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Rakash couldn't help but give a weak grin as Cordelia's expression edged into glare territory. She looked about ready to splash him, which would have been a promising return to normal. But she didn't.

Instead, she sighed and sank deeper until the water reached her chin. She didn't want to think about what that thing - that thrall - had told her. She didn't want to open up a can of worms that threatened to upend her understanding of the world around her.

She was Cordelia, a non-magic user and the 'baby' of the family. If she was being frank, she didn't want to think of that either. Instead, she focused on Rakash, gripping onto the residual annoyance at him. "I suppose I should be thankful you showed up, barely in time."

In the quiet, Rakash had shifted to sitting cross-legged at the water's edge, keeping a watchful eye on Cordelia. She hadn't been doing much, except swaying in the water and glaring off into the distance. He wondered what kept her expression so sour. Was it thoughts of him? Or her situation? Or something he wasn't privy to?

When she spoke, his shoulders hunched under the question. "I came to check, since I thought I heard screaming. Twice."

"You didn't move until the second scream." Cordelia cocked an eyebrow, scoffing at Rakash's lack of urgency in her situation. Part of her knew she couldn't expect more from him. Expecting more simply led to painful disappointment.

"I thought I could be mishearing things," Rakash explained, his gaze flickering to his hands in his lap. His hands flexed, a string of guilt tangling inside his chest and strangling his heart. He should have gone to check on her after the first scream. Just as he should have sought help for Ebra instead of insisting everything would be alright. Thinking back to Cordelia's unmitigated disgust in him, he sighed again and his shoulders hunched further. "I didn't want to disturb you, if I was wrong."

With a hum, Cordelia considered his words. It was true that she didn't want him to bother her. Residual disappointment and rage simmered in her chest still. But he did come for her. Better late than never. And any later might have spelled death for Cordelia, whether at the hand of the thrall or exhausted in the cold.

From her spot, she eyed the miserable-looking Rakash. Bags under his eyes and rumpled clothing appearing to hang off him, as if he were smaller than usual. Maybe she felt just a tiny bit forgiving. "Thank you for coming to get me."

"Don't thank me," he sighed, as morosely as he looked. He had a hard time bringing his eyes to Cordelia's face. "I was only doing the right thing."

That was also true. She couldn't deny that it was right to come to the aid of someone in danger. Although one could argue he had the right to ignore her after the things she said in the heat of fury and all the hassle she gave him.

Instead of voicing those thoughts, Cordelia changed the subject. "Can I undress now and take a proper bath?"

"Keep the clothes in the water. They may be tainted by the creature's magic." Clinging to the conversational change, Rakash rose to his feet and started to exit the area. "I'll get you some soaps and a towel."

Before he was completely gone, Cordelia called out after him, "And a change of clothes."

He didn't turn around, didn't even look at her. Just a backward wave to indicate he heard her.

It took him some time to return. Other than fumbling around in her personal trunk, he probably checked on the triplets. At least she hoped he did. Ebra was probably Still sick, even if they were doing better with the medicine. She couldn't even guess how Kazri and Zalmir were. If the illness was as contagious as the doctor said, the other two would soon read another dose of medicine.

Cordelia tried to enjoy her time floating in the water without the inane troll man. The heat of the bath replaced the cold inside her from both the outdoors and the thrall. The inky black spots dwindled and faded, though she could still see where they were if she looked hard. She wondered if others would be able to spot them or if this was another indication of what the thall had mentioned.

In irritation, Cordelia dunked herself under the water, trying to wash away the residual chill and the memories of the thrall's words.

When Rakash returned, a pile of towels and clothes in one hand and a small crate of Cordelia's toiletries under his other arm, she inclined her head to him. It didn't take long to note the exhaustion that pulled at his body or the red rimming his eyes.

She drifted closer to the water's edge, gaze narrowing on him. "Have you been crying?"

His eyes snapped to her before quickly darting away. Sheepishly, the troll rubbed a palm against one eye, as if he could scrub away the incriminating evidence. "It has been a long day."

Cordelia hummed in agreement, but said no more. She certainly wasn't going to Comfort him. Turning to the crate of goods he'd brought to the water's edge, it seemed he'd brought anything and everything she might need. Letting her knowledge of scents and perfumes take over, she fingered through her available soaps and suds and shampoos.

Lavender scented assortments with a little punch of bergamot wash, Cordelia decided. A little bit of relaxation with a bit of energy. Heavens knew she could use both.

Rakash dutifully turned away as Cordelia stripped off her wet clothes ) leaving them to float in the water as she cleaned herself. For a time, he remained silent. The slosh of the water only sound between the two of them.

Ignoring his presence, Cordelia's thoughts wandered to meaningless things, letting her mind work on less-than-important topics as a breather. Lurking at the back of her thoughts were concerns. Where to go from here. Could she stand to stay with him until the thaw. Would her heart let her leave the little cretins in his lacking care.

Her meandering thoughts stumbled when Rakash broke the silence. "You were right."

"Hm?" Bobbing deep in the water, Cordelia turned to Rakash. He sat on the pool's edge, his back still turned to her and shoulders tense.

"You were right," he patiently repeated, still not turning.

She hummed, lips twisted with a grudging grin to herself. She couldn't hide her smugness as she hedged, in an almost-singsong taunt, "Once more?"

Now realizing her game, Rakash glowered at the far wall, but still bit out. "You were right, Cordelia."

"What of the many things was I right about this time?" Water sloshed around Cordelia as she floated backward, instinctively mimicking lounging back on a bed of knowledge.

"I failed my kids. I didn't act when I should have." His words came out tight aw stilted. Something in his stomach withered, churned at his own words, imagining Cordelia's expression and eventual utter disgust. "And I did act similarly when Karina died."

Her amusement hiccupped at the mention of his late wife, forcing her to upright herself and float closer to the troll. "Go on."

A moment's pause filled the space between them. Briefly, Rakash considered backtracking, remaining silent. It would be the easier choice. Not admit his shortcomings and simply continue with life.

He wanted to be better than that, though. If only for his children's sake. Cordelia's words, her actions, had made it abundantly clear that there were things he should be able to do, even if he had to force himself, to keep his children alive and thriving.

The strain in the air kept Cordelia quiet. If he continued, she'd listen, but part of her wouldn't have been too surprised if he clammed up, if he moved on entirely. A lesser man would do so, that was for certain. And he hadn't re-won her good grace.

Something in her perked up when he unexpectedly continued.

"The kids had just turned two. They were into everything and keeping us up at all hours. Teething, too. Their tusks were coming in." The words fell from him quietly, recalling the trying nights and lack of sleep. The crying pain the triplets suffered and the exhaustion that wound around himself and Karina.

But it was the two of them. They made it work. They had each other to lean on, Something he'd sorely miss when completely alone with the trollings.

When She was alive, he also had the benefit of getting out every other day, hunting for food or chopping firewood for hours. His wife did not take those chores, by her own choice. She liked staying close to the kids, tending to them, easing their achy gums and cuddling with them. Of course, that also meant cleaning up after them and dealing with their tantrums, but she took it in stride.

Still, he knew she needed to get out, get some fresh air and time away. Maybe if he hadn't, though, she'd still be alive. That thright often plagued him in the days after. "Karina hadn't been out of the house in days, so I offered to stay with the kids while she took Marimone for supplies we couldn't forage for."

His eyes closed, Cordelia's attentive silence burned through him worse than any agitation. Stifling heat filled his lungs, locked around his chest. Vivid memories spilled into his thoughts as he forced his words out, "Marimone had come back without her. She had blood on her flank and I just thought it was a fluke injury, that Karina would be home soon on foot, laughing about Marimone being startled by something small, insignificant.

"She always said I worried too much and I'd overreacted in the past. I forced myself to believe she'd be okay, that she was okay." Shaking his head ruefully, fondly remembering his wife's teasing, Rakash sighed. "Hours passed with no Karina. I didn't move quick enough and, by the time I did go out to look for her..."

"By the time you went out to look for her..." Cordelia prompted as the water around her shifted, as she edged closer to the edge of the pool. She needed to hear the story, no matter how difficult it was for him. It was good practice for him anyway, she decided, for when the children got curious about what happened to their mother.

"I heard her screaming and smelled the smoke before I found her," Rakash continued, tossing an awry pebble he found into the darker part of the bathing area. It clattered across the floor, happy to flee the heavy atmosphere between the two. Rakash's voice dipped low and bitter, a sneer on his lips, "Humans - a caravan of some sort - had her trussed up to a pole. The fire had mostly consumed her when I got to the clearing."

Drawn by his words, or maybe his tone, he heard water slosh as Cordelia inevitably rose out of the bath. Now nude, he remembered. A part of him balked at recalling that aspect, forcing his eyes to the right as she approached his left.

He pushed on with his story, sensing her closing in on his side and crouching down beside him. "They called her a witch and a traitor to humanity since someone had figured out she had half-troll children."

"Rakash." Cordelia said his name so softly, it made a pang go through his chest. He didn't know why she said his name, if she wanted him to stop. If asked, Cordelia herself wouldn't be able to explain herself either.

Ignoring the ache, his voice dropped even lower, guttural with no hint of remorse. "I killed them all."

Her hand paused on its journey to touch his shoulder, to offer him some wordless support. "What?"

"Left their bodies for the buzzards, hauled all their supplies home." Staring to the far wall again, memories filled with blood and stillness filtered through his thoughts. He'd Spent weeks cooped up with the kids, nursing his broken heart and soul while his children unwittingly stabbed him with every mention of Mama. A heaviness settled in his chest, cooling the emotional agony with icy calm. "Went back to collect their skeletons after some time."

Worse than she could have imagined, Cordelia bought time to process by focusing on his last words. "For what?"

"Trade." The word came so easily, along with his one-shouldered shrug. It was almost as if Rakash was talking about something obvious and everyday.

"With who?" Horrified curiosity made Cordelia's words pitchy high.

"Goblins and orcs, mostly." Another one-shouldered shrug, his tone fell with a careless ease as he turned to face her again. "Some dwarves, too."

"Rakash!" The light of the glowstones reflected in Cordelia's wide eyes, both her hands flying to cover her mouth. It wasn't to keep a retch in, but to hide her smile.

He didn't know that, though. Agitation had found its way home, his very words bristling as he snapped, "They killed my wife!"

Rakash glared down at Cordelia and waited, her eyes darting around his features for a moment. He braced for some haughty taunt, a disgusted reply, her face crumpling with disappointment. Her eyes were glassy, unshed tears pooling, before her gaze averted and she dropped her hands. Laughter fell from her lips, stunning Rakash into silence.

"Oh, I shouldn't laugh, but it's that or crying." When Cordelia spoke, her tone was strained and soft. Her attention did flicker back to him, sidelong as her lips quirked a little with impressed amusement. Seeing his rage, believing she was chastising him, brought another laugh bubbling up from her. "I can't say I expected you to sell their bones, though!"

"Why would you cry?" Unprepared for her sympathy, and half-realizing she was still nude beside him, Rakash drew his attention away from her. Thus far, he had successfully staved off tears in retelling his story to Cordelia. Although, perhaps he just cried himself dry earlier.

"Because that's all horrid!" Reaching out, she placed a hand on his upper arm, earning her a hesitant glance from the troll. "You saw her burnt at a stake, hearing her screams. I can't imagine."

Yet Cordelia could imagine. An acrid scent of smoke and burnt flesh and singed hair tickled her nose. A faint screaming echoed in her ears. Mentally, she shook the smells and sounds away. It was just her imagination, coaxing such things. Nothing more.

She had to mentally shake herself harder as the word 'necromancer' danced after the dismissed thoughts.

"But the fact I killed so many?" An entire caravan's worth. He honestly didn't know how many he had killed, but the ground in the area had pooled with blood for weeks afterward. Ravens and vultures still poked about, perhaps sensing old viscera or hoping for a renewal of the dining area.

"As long as no children or adolescents were involved, the caravan made their choice." Cordelia waved her hand, as if swatting away a gnat of an issue. "I don't have patience for small-minded bigotry. They begot what they beget."

To that, Rakash snorted. "If there had been children, I'd have more kids than mine under my roof."

"Oh, so you would've housed a bunch of orphans, but it was such a struggle to get you to house me, a woman you kidnapped?" Soaking in melodrama, Cordelia gasped and pressed a hand to her - still very bare - chest. With Rakash's tale concluded, she realized how cold the air was on her skin, how badly she prickled with goosebumps all over. She ignored the sensations, opting for over-the-top reactions over something insignificant in hopes of lightening the mood. Her eyes wide, lips parted in a gasp, unshed tears gone. The perfect picture of an affronted noblewoman.

Ah, back to this, Rakash thought. Something in him eased, relieved that she was acting familiarly now. He stared at her face for a long time, apparently unmoved by her display. "I wouldn't call you a woman."

"Excuse me?" Despite the way her voice rose with agitation, Cordelia had to bite back a smile. She started to move, shifting to her knees as if she intended to stand in front of him.

He knew she likely would do just that. While pointing at the bits he was fervently ignoring. Parts that made something in him flare.

With a quick more of his arm, Rakash flung a nearby towel over her before he got more of an eyeful. He quickly turned away again, shoulders hunched and arms crossed over his propped up knees. "You're more like the pure essence of annoyance given physical form."

To his surprise, Cordelia laughed at his words. The towel had landed smack over her head and she pulled it off with a shake of her head. "Oh, now you're clever."

"I know, as a father, I am fumbling. It has been difficult without Karina." Rakash continued on while Cordelia thankfully wrapped a towel around her form. He didn't need additional confusion making this night more complicated.

Even with most of her body covered, he spotted the goosebumps prickled over her limbs. Another wave of guilt tickled at the back of his thoughts, but he ignored it. "I forget they cannot handle the same things troll children can. Thank you for the reminder."

The words brought a rush of conflicting feelings over Cordelia. Her eyebrows furrowed, a little fear nagging at her chest. Even if her staying, in perpetuity, to help with the kids was the farthest thing from his mind, she needed to be clear. "I'm not going to be around forever."

His acknowledging nod sent a flurry of combating feelings through her, but he didn't notice. "You offered to help me read Common. That would help my kids later in life, too. Maybe there's other things as well."

"Maybe." Apprehension struck her, making her feel far more tired than she had a moment ago. Her eyes flicked to the pool, over the steaming water and awry floating clothes. The scent of whatever soaps and medicines had filled the air had dissipated over the course of Rakash's story.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you're tired." The sound of Rakash pushing himself to his feet, his boots scraping on the floor, drew Cordelia's eye back to him. Her breath caught as he loomed tall over her. Whatever emotions made him shrink in on himself were now dispelled or packed tightly away. "You can take my bed tonight."

The thought he would want her to stay longer collided through her head again, mixing with his latest words. Heat licked at her cheeks as she took a step back. Clutching the towel closer to her body, Cordelia's voice broke a little as she snapped, "I am not sharing a bed with you!"

Warmth licked hotter against her cheeks as Rakash continued to stare down at her. He was like a pillar of stone, expression unmoving save for that one damnable eyebrow cocking upward.

"I'll take the cot tonight and keep an eye on my kids. I don't think I'll be able to sleep, so a bed would be wasted on me," he replied, soft and level. His tone scraped over Cordelia, making her feel foolish and worsening her blush. Before she could reply, he started about the room, gathering items and heading to his home proper. Behind him, he left Cordelia with her change of clothes.

She glared after Rakash, conflicting feelings warring inside her. Gracious for the bed, but not for the way the option was foisted on her, she couldn't help but mutter to herself, "If I had my own room, I wouldn't need your bed."

Knowing she didn't have the energy to argue, Cordelia sighed and got dressed. Rakash could win this one, her tired bones decided as she shuffled to his room.

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

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It would have helped if more refined guards had been hired. Cordelia wouldn’t have found it necessary to haul all of her things in her same travel wagon. As it was, large and well-made trunks stood like sentries inside of the wagon. All of the boxes contained a collection of books, trinkets, and general memorability from her well-planned adventures, along with her finely tailored clothing and jewelry.

Alas, she didn’t feel it was safe to allow her trunks far from her sight. Her nose wrinkled as she thought of the last time she made that mistake. Too many of her undergarments had gone missing and strange runes - meant to spy on her through a looking glass, she later learned - had been drawn on some key items.

Raucous sounds from outside infiltrated her meager serenity. Judging from the smell of rotten ale, the troupe blew the first half of their funds on booze.

Cordelia ignored the revelry and continued to read about her eventual destination by the light of her candle. There was no point in dwelling on her situation. This was a temporary moment between stimulating locations.

And the dryad city of Florifolia was certain to be a quasi-paradise, she thought as she found her spot on the page. Warm and sunny, with a near criminal abundance of lush flora. Along with the notorious greenery, beaches abound on its borders, which skirted Lathian Sea and seafolk territory. Cordelia kept a mental list of drinks and food and things try in Florifolia.

Cordelia mused it was a bit masochistic to read of such a blissful place while traversing the cold hells that were the mountains.

The thought solidified further as her wagon shifted and her door opened. A cold gust hissed around her room as the caravan leader - Jai - shouldered his way in, without a knock nor invitation. From her bed, Cordelia stared at him, her eyes narrowed. Beside her, the flickering candle sputtered in the uninvited breeze.

Jai was a slab of muscle, topped with long stringy blonde hair and a scruff of a beard. Judging from the smell wafting from him, he’d been soaking in booze with the rest of his cohorts. Seeing her watching him, his lips twisted into a snarl of a smile. Cordelia didn’t much like it.

“Can I help you,” Cordelia intoned, her tone deadpan and her expression none-the-livelier.

The gruesome smile broadened across Jai’s face. Vaguely, Cordelia noted he was missing a tooth. “Just thought the princess was a bit lonely, out here all alone.”

Her pursed lips tipped into a frown at the little nickname. There was no point in explaining she was not royalty, merely a count’s daughter. To Jai’s sort, anyone with money to burn was royal and worthy of scorn.

“I’m quite fine.” She raised her tin of wine and her book. “I have everything I need right here. Good night.”

“You don’t got everything you need.” Innuendo dripped from Jai’s tone. Cordelia snorted and rolled her eyes, though that only seemed to amuse the caravan leader more. He took another step closer to her, leering expectantly.

“A need is something I would die without,” Cordelia primly replied, opening her book once more to dismiss the man. Her tone was chillier than outside. Hopefully, the man would realize he’d get a much warmer welcome at the campfire with his lackeys. “I assure you, whatever you’re offering, I can live without.”

He was not deterred. Jai took another step closer, the air around him thickening with displeasure. “You don’t seem to be understanding what I’m saying.”

“Is that so?” Cordelia didn’t even raise her eyes to him as she took a swig from her tin mug. She channeled her mother’s unending disinterest, trying to calm her heart.

She stood corrected. These were the worst moments in her travels. Entitled people - often men - trying to coerce her into fucking. She’d managed to defend herself against others in the past. Of course, those other times, there was more civilization, more people, to turn to for assistance if things went belly-up.

Cordelia didn’t have much hope that any of the other hired help, currently warming around a campfire and drinking booze, would come running if she screamed. Too many of them were Jai’s men.

Thumping footsteps on the wagon’s stairs interrupted the caravan leader’s threat. He half-turned, eyes wide with anger. “Hells’ bells, boys, I’m in here! Piss off!”

Snatching at the good fortune, Cordelia acted on instinct in Jai’s distraction. Grabbing the dwarven firestarter used to light her candle, Cordelia spat the yet-to-be-swallowed wine at the leader. At the same time, she flicked the firestarter and the little flicker caught the wine and, subsequently, the man.

The sound Jai made was inhuman. One of horror and pain. A shriek that tore through the air as he threw himself from the cart and into a pile of snow.

Adrenaline-fueled excitement and a sense of accomplishment flooded Cordelia. From where she now stood in the wagon, she yelled after the burning Jai, “Stay out!”

With any luck, the state of the caravan leader would dissuade other interested parties. With that thought in mind, Cordelia moved toward her ajar door, intending to close, lock, and blockade the darn thing.

Then she spotted the interloper. The one that had interrupted Jai’s attempts to get his own dick wet.

And all the giddy heat left her.

One word flashed in her head, as snippets of horror stories of the creature flicked in the background of her thoughts: Troll.

It slowly turned its head away from the mercenary en flambe toward Cordelia.

Away from her candle, Cordelia couldn’t tell what color their dark eyes were. But their sunken and intense look made her stomach lurch, especially as they took a step forward. Her brain suddenly hiccuped, the need to plan an escape stumbling into survivalist observation.

The troll was tall and broad and blue. With white thick hair and two sets of tusks jutting from their lower jaw. How large they actually were was hard to tell, beneath the layers and furs they wore. But, even then, they seemed massive as they squeezed into the enclosed space. There was no doubt they were heavy, as the wagon creaked and lurched.

Cordelia’s stomach sank as she stumbled back. Instinctively, she reached for anything and everything to fling at the creature as she screamed, “Help! Troll!”

The troll just stood there, letting themselves be pelted with empty cups, candle sticks, awry books, and even a small sachet of coins. They didn’t budge. Cordelia soon ran out of projectiles and the troll took a step closer. In a gruff, raspy voice - like rocks shearing together -they rumbled, “They’re busy.”

“W-what?” It was only then she noticed it. The screams of terror, mirroring her own. They echoed through the night and bounced off the mountains. On the very edges of the chaos, Cordelia thought she could hear the scattering of hoofed feet and frantically thought of the caravan’s horses.

Her momentary silence was taken as acquiescence. The troll began to lumber forward once more, sparking instant reaction from Cordelia.

She shrieked as two arms locked around her. Pushing and kicking, Cordelia tried to shove herself away, to wiggle free. Her heart threw itself repeatedly against her ribs, trying to mirror Cordelia’s attempts at freedom. But the troll easily dragged her from the wagon. When they both cleared the wagon, the beast threw Cordelia over their shoulder and lumbered into the dark.

“Unhand me this instant!” She screamed, flailing her fists and bare feet against them. Her heart still battered itself against her ribs, instinct relying on a familiar course of action. “How dare you put your grubby paws on me!”

It was a constant stream of demanding yells as she squirmed and writhed in the hold. Part of her desperately hoped if she continued the stream of shrieks, some of her hired swords would pull away from whatever happened at camp. They would be able to follow her voice and would plot to retrieve her. It was their job, after all! Her shouts echoed into the night and through the forest of trees, disturbing birds and animals in the underbrush.

Cordelia didn’t let up her screeching until her throat felt as if it were in tatters and her words came out in achingly soft hisses. Even breathing faintly hurt. Still, she continued to struggle with all her might. Her hands and feet held on longer than her voice. Her kicking and the cold made her toes tingle painfully. The one hand she managed to thump repeatedly against the troll’s back throbbed with a possible bruise. Despite fear and adrenaline still coursing, physical exhaustion got the better of Cordelia, and eventually - miraculously - she had no other choice but to quiet down.

As she calmed, her eyes focused on their surroundings. Or attempted to, at least. Despite the brilliant spray of stars overhead, there was no moon, so the mountainside was near pitch black. Cordelia could only tell there were things - trees, rocks, snow mounds - around them due to varying shades of dark and lumpiness. But it did her little good and often enough, something she thought of as a tree or boulder seemed to move.

Even if she managed to get away, she didn’t know the way back. Even if she had made a list of landmarks from the start, she couldn’t guarantee they hadn’t moved, either!

Without the exertion or her enchanted wagon, the cold of the mountain quickly seeped through her nightgown. Hard as she tried to fight it, her body trembled under the intense chill.

It wasn’t until the troll shifted beneath her that she realized they had noticed. In the darkness, she could barely make out what was happening with all their fidgeting. Not until something warm and furry flopped over her. Instinctively, Cordelia grabbed the furred cape, wrapping it around her best she could while still being balanced on a shoulder.

The troll offered no explanation as they continued to lumber through the dark. She pursed her lips, eyes narrowing as she glared at the shadowed profile of the beast. Even with her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could barely make anything tangible out on their face.

They hadn’t spoken since taking her, either. Which was strange. Usually, sexually interested parties would wax on about what they wanted to do with her. Then again, perhaps he had other plans. Ransom? Or maybe food? Cordelia’s eyes narrowed, her nose wrinkling as she tried to recall any stories where trolls ate humans.

Something soft and furred brushed against her arm, startling Cordelia from her thoughts. She jolted, her mind abuzz with a number of creepy-crawlies that could be scurrying across her arms. Fleas, ticks, bed bugs, frost mites. Who knew what was crawling in the furred cape?

The troll chose that moment to speak up, tone level and seemingly exasperated, “It’s just my tail.”

“Oh.” Cordelia blinked as an instant plan for release dropped into her head. As she reached down, tangling her hand around the tail, she gave a sharp pull. The troll yelped and almost at once, he dropped her to the ground. Pain shot up Cordelia’s bottom, making her gasp. The furred cape, which had come with her, at least offered a little bit of cushion.

“Don’t touch that!” The snarl verged on a whine as the troll spun around on Cordelia.

“Hah! That’s rich coming from someone who just lugged me over their shoulder and kidnapped me!” Fueled on outrage, Cordelia scrambled to her own feet, her heart pounding in her chest, knowing her words were foolish. This was a mountain troll! A big, ferocious, lumbering creature. But the high of indignation was like ongoing inertia.

“I didn’t kidnap you.” Sincere confusion dotted the troll’s brow, as they continued to hold their sore tail. “I told you, there were mountain bandits that-”

“You absolutely did not!”

“Yes, I di-” The troll paused, their dark eyebrows furrowing and dipping into ‘v’. It was evident they were replaying memories. Cordelia’s glare didn’t lessen. Soon, the troll’s long pointy ears drooped and they groaned, running one of their thickly gloved hands over their face.

Spurred on by her interloper seemingly acknowledging their wrong doings, Cordelia gathered all her highborn wrath. With a stomp of her foot, her hands clenched at her sides, she declared, “I demand you take me back!”

“There’s mountain bandits,” the troll repeated, half-indignant and half-exhausted as their hand remained over their face.

“If you didn’t mean to take me,” Cordelia’s sneer and tone made it clear she didn’t believe the excuse, “Then you should take me back. Or to a settlement.”

At her words, the troll dropped their hand from their face. They stared at Cordelia for a beat, eyebrows drawing into a deeper furrow. “No.”

“You kidnapped me and dragged me out here!” Cordelia’s tone was fringing on a shriek, high-pitched and crackling at the edges. “You’re obligated to return me!”

“I saved you from mountain bandits.” Once again, the troll repeated their excuse. But a hardness had settled into their voice as they crossed their arms over their broad chest. “Be thankful for that and be on your way.”

“How am I going to make it down the mountain in this and with no proper boots?” Unfamiliar with being dismissed, the human woman continued her own tirade. She waved a hand at herself, indicating her flimsy shift that would offer little against the mountain chill, before raising a leg to show off her bare foot.

The stern expression never wavered from the troll’s features. They simply glared down at Cordelia, their eyes trailing over the nightgown and down to her bare feet. While the gown was only rumpled, her feet probably looked worse for wear. Red and raw in the cold, now dirty from standing in disgusting slush. Even fueled with the hate of rage and wrapped in the furred cape, Cordelia couldn’t keep herself from shivering.

The hard set of the troll’s shoulders sagged as they heaved a gih. Turning away from Cordelia, they muttered, “Follow.”

“Need I remind you?” High off the success of her uppity complaints, Cordelia found herself continuing to ride the wave of calling out the troll’s injustices. Once again, she raised a foot and savagely motioned toward it. “No shoes.”

The troll tossed a look over their shoulder, their words biting and sardonic, “Do you want me to lug you around again?”

Cordelia huffed, hands on her hips as she surveyed the area. It was hard to be certain of anything in the darkened landscape. In the near distance, she could see lights from what looked like a cabin. Though, she couldn’t be sure that’s where they were heading.

Still, either she acquiesced to the troll touching her or she stubbornly marched through the snow and muck to wherever they were heading. Which might be much farther than she was anticipating. When her eyes flaked back to the troll, she bristled. They had turned to face her, waiting patiently for her answer, though she thought she could sense the faintest vindication around them.

Once again, pride came to her aide. Or, perhaps, downfall. With a scoff, she inclined her head away from the troll and stuck her nose into the air. “I’ll walk for now, thank you very much.”

The empty halls and rooms of her childhood home. The quiet, solitary birthdays and holidays, while she received cards from her parents and siblings. Watching fairs and festivals and parades march by her home, but rarely managing to go to the festivities herself. The few familiar, yet distant, servants that populated her memories.

It hadn't always been so lonely, Cordelia knew. There used to be Nanny Gerta and her plethora of children. The times when the maid would take her out on errands and then bring her to the shack she called home. There, a gaggle of children waited and, for once, Cordelia didn't feel so alone as she played with them.

Angrily, Cordelia swiped at the tears. Those memories only brought more pain, she knew, as her heart lurched in her chest. It had gone on for years, up until Cordelia was ten. Then Nanny Gerta just disappeared one day. Along with her children. Cordelia never got an answer from her parents or siblings or other servants. And to make matters worse, the other servants began distancing themselves further, as well.

Leaving little Cordelia to her own devices, once more.

She hated those memories. Hated the pang that came to her chest whenever they settled in her head. Hated how hard it was to shake the incessant misery.

"Stop it!" Cordelia hissed to herself, as she pushed her palms against her eyes. The tears refused to stop.

She had not thought Rakash could disappoint her so badly. Oh yes, he was stubborn and overprotective of his trollings, to the point of isolating them from the world. But he cared about his children. She had watched him fawn over them, bathe them, feed them.

Never once had it crossed her mind he'd so willfully ignore a problem to the point of allowing one of his children to suffer, maybe even die! Cordelia didn't even want to consider the ripple effects on Kazri and Zalmir.

It was one thing to be disappointed over superficial, silly things. Those didn't matter.

It was another thing to be upset by - and admit - to expecting a level of performance from someone else. It hurt when they failed.

The tears slowly eased and Cordelia sighed, pressing her head back against the tree trunk. This was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous.

This was exactly why she didn't get close to anyone.

They always disappointed her. Her own standards were just too high, so why expect anyone to meet them? Why give anyone that chance? No one needed to deal with Cordelia's expectations and she had no desire to constantly be dissatisfied and distressed.

This was her mistake for inadvertently expecting more of Rakash than was warranted.

A sound caught her ear. The crunch of snow trodden underfoot. Cordelia's first thought swung to Rakash. A frustrating mix of hope and annoyance filtered through her thoughts.

Then she realized the steps were far too light for the large troll.

Narrowing her eyes and sitting straight, Cordelia held perfectly still.

Something moved through the shadows of the trees. She followed it with her eyes and, as if her eyes were adjusting from darkness to illumination, the thing slowly came into focus.

Tall and skinny. Skin taut and tight over their bones. Dark splotches of discoloration, reminiscent of rot, spread from one side of their throat to their cheek. Their dark hair hung, long and stringy and in the thing's face. Tattered grey clothes, with no shape or identifying marks - A dress? A tunic? A shawl? - to indicate what they'd once been.

As they crept closer, from tree to tree, Cordelia realized with a start they were barefoot. Their toes tipped with pointed, dark nails. Dreadful alarms sang in her head, telling her to run.

Being as quiet and careful as possible, she got to her feet. Her eyes flickered to the cabin. Had the thing noticed her? Most likely, since it was creeping closer to her. If so, why hadn't it said a damned thing? Her lips pressed together in thought, her heart thrumming in her chest and her eyes aching. The one thing she really, truly wanted was to lay down somewhere warm.

She should scream for help, she knew. Call on Rakash and hope he wasn't too angry that he ignored her.

"You are aware of my presence," asserted the figure, a hiss to their voice. Without thinking, Cordelia glanced over to them, catching a dreadful smile splitting their lips. It split far too wide along their face, showing innumerable sharp teeth filling every inch of their mouth.

Cordelia simply stared, wide-eyed. She didn't know what to do. Stubbornness didn't want to go screaming for Rakash. But she was so tired, she honestly had no plan of action. While her mind rushed, trying to make her move or do something, something stirred inside her. A cool sensation, like condensation dripping down a glass, trickled through her and made her fingertips buzz.

"Do not play dumb!" They hissed, seeming to flicker in and out of existence, until they were suddenly on Cordelia.

The scream rent from Cordelia's lips, instinctive and surprised as weight landed on her. Her scream cut short as her back slammed against a tree, air knocked from her lungs with a gasp. Whoever this creature was, their ice-cold hands clamped down on Cordelia's forearms - seeming to phase through her coat - as she struggled. Their nails bit into her skin, fabric untouched. Cordelia's stomach lurched with nausea, fright straining at her chest.

Closer, Cordelia realized their mouth certainly was filled to the brim with teeth, jutting at odd angles. Like the deepsea fish she'd read about. A shudder ran down her spine as she continued to grapple against them.

The thing leaned closer to Cordelia, nearly spitting in her face. "Our kind has an agreement with yours and you broke it!"

"I have no clue what you're talking about," cried Cordelia, trying to break free of the iron-clad grip. The chill of its skin was painfully sinking into Cordelia's own flesh. "Unhand me this instant!"

An ugly laugh fell from the creature's maw, dark spittle dribbling from the corner of their mouth. "I am no fool. I know what you are!"

Cordelia attempted to remain calm, even as she began to see black blister along her arms, where this creature held her. She stowed her panic deep in her chest, stilling her fear. Channeling all of her hate and frustration and anger of the previous situation into her words, she spat back, "And what, pray tell, is that?"

Cocking its head to the side, the creature narrowed its gaze. As if they were considering whether Cordelia was telling the truth or not. She wished it'd say something, considering whatever it was doing to her arm hadn't stopped. It felt as if it was reaching into her forearm's bone, chilling her to the marrow.

"Necromancer," breathed the creature, once more elongating the hiss in the word.

"I beg your pardon!" Cordelia's eyes widened, a heat clawing up her spine. A magic user? A death-centric one at that? Unthinkable! Her sister was the only mage in the family, touted as a mystical genius and given a position of authority in a neighboring kingdom. Her family would have known. Cordelia would have known if she herself were magically-inclined. "I am no mancer of any sort!"

Annoyance flickered across the creature's face and, with a jerk, they slammed Cordelia back into the tree. "Stop lying! You stole that child's essence back and now a price must be paid!"

"If I had magic, I'd kno-" Cordelia's own retort ended with a startled shriek as the trembling jittery tingling that had been climbing up her arms suddenly burned her fingertips.

Everything happened too fast for Cordelia to keep up. A dark ball of condensed shadows slammed into the creature and the creature yowled in pain as it hurtled back, into a far tree. The tree shuddered, snow falling in heaps down its branches.

With trembling knees, Cordelia leaned against the trunk behind her. She stared at her hands, trying to make sense of what just happened. The wind continued to shriek around her, unable to shake Cordelia from her shock.

The creature was back to its feet, sliding effortlessly through the snow, too soon for Cordelia to run, to even think of escape as confusion wracked her brain.

With a hissing snarl, the creature crouched down, prepared to hurl itself at Cordelia once more. It was so focused on Cordelia, it didn't see or sense the axe hurtling toward it. The impact of metal and flesh rang out through the air, accompanied by a sickening shluck as the creature's head became pinned to a nearby tree.

From the treeline, Rakash charged toward the creature, a snarl tangled in his throat. He hefted the axe by its handle from the creature's head, quickly slamming it down once more to part head and body. After kicking the head away, watching it tumble over the edge of the nearest drop, Rakash turned to Cordelia.

She looked so small, trembling against a tree, staring at her arms. Something in his stomach dropped, the words 'too late' hissing through his thoughts.

A sensation worked its way through her body, strongest where the creature had held her. It felt cold and slimy, making her stomach pitch terribly. Something else moved through her, though. Threading dark hot-cold something through her veins.

"Did it touch you?" Rakash bellowed, unable to control his volume as he stormed over to her. In his chest, his heart slammed wildly, unable to calm.

Dazed, Cordelia turned her attention from her hands to him. She held her arms out and quietly said, "My forearms."

Rakash's heart stuttered, seeing the whites of her eyes darkened to black, but clamped down on his outward reaction. If he reacted poorly, she would notice and this calm veneer would disintegrate. Calmness, even if it was a state of shock, was needed.

He knelt down in front of her, grabbing her arm and pulling the sleeve of her coat and undershirt up, careful to not touch skin to skin. Where it had touched her, despite the layers of fabric, a dark mark consumed the bulk of her forearm. Like a splotch of bleeding ink, faintly hand shaped. And the inky black was sluggishly consuming her arm.

A curse left Rakash as he checked her other forearm, which was in the same state. They had to act quickly, before it spread. Even if they managed to contain or cure the rot, he had no clue if it'd save Cordelia.

A thrall's soul rot could dig in, deep and fast, until no amount of corporeal medicine would help.

It took Rakash a moment to realize Cordelia was trembling. Even after he had dropped her arm. He couldn't recall a moment in their short acquaintanceship when she had done so. That realization brought a lump to his throat.

A glance to her face and he noted how red rimmed they were, from prior crying, even though her eyes still shone glassily. As if there were more tears yet in her. He didn't focus on that - or the leaden guilt forming in his chest - for too long. She needed to be cleansed before the soul rot settled further into her bones.

Acting more on instinct than coherent thought, Rakash rose to his feet and scooped her up in his arms. A part of him braced for a disagreement or struggle or even a scream, but she just sat in his arms, staring blankly ahead. Dread itched along his skin.

His feet moved without processing instructions from his brain. He didn't need to wonder why her lack of reaction was bad, knowing what he knew.

It was only when he got to the door of his home, he paused. He leerily looked from Cordelia to the door. If she wasn't afflicted with soul rot - but some alternative like a mystical plague or illness - he didn't want her spreading it to his children. There wasn't time to sequester the kids elsewhere as he brought her through, though. And he didn't trust Cordelia's safety outdoors while he cared for his kids.

Faint memories of his childhood, of the troll caves, burbled forth. Whenever someone severely ill - to the point of unresponsive - was carted through to the healer, everyone else was told to stop breathing until the cart passed.

"Hold your breath," he instructed her, his tone unyielding and rough. When Cordelia didn't respond, he gave a frustrated growl. After a quick adjustment, one of his arms cradled Cordelia and his free hand clamped over her nose and mouth.

Though she felt his hand on her face, Cordelia couldn't find any will to react. All she felt was all-consuming numbness.

As quietly and swiftly as he could, Rakash entered his home and locked the door behind him. He passed as far from his sleeping children as he could and hauled Cordelia into the mountain, toward the hot springs. When they had gotten to the bathing area, he removed his hand from her face.

Quietly, she took a deep inhale and Rakash realized she had been listening to him. She hadn't been breathing as they moved through his home. That was a good sign. Cordelia's senses were still there, even if her ability - or desire - to speak was not.

"Stay here," he sternly directed, as he put her down on her feet. She looked up at him, almost dolefully. Voice rough from concern, he reiterated with a growl, "Don't move."

Rushing back to where the hall branched to multiple doors, he ducked into the storage closet, retrieving a small cask filled with herbs and dried flowers and little glass bottles. When he rushed back to the bathing area, he almost expected Cordelia to have not listened, to be gone or already climbing into the water or...

Rakash almost froze when he saw her. Cordelia was standing where he left her, like a statue, staring at the water.

His lips pressed tightly together, bading off conflicting feelings in his chest. He didn't like seeing her like this. After dumping handfuls of dried plants into the springs and pouring an entire container of purifying solution into the water, he turned to her and pointed at the water, "Get in."

Cordelia made a move to shrug off her jacket, but he stopped her with a wave of his hand. Her eyes flickered to him, a glimmer of curiosity deep in their dark depths. Rakash stifled his wishful hope that, even now, she was rallying. Or that whatever the thrall had done hadn't sunk too deep. "Clothes stay on."

She made a soft sound of acknowledgement, or he assumed it was acknowledgement considering she moved toward the water. Into the spring, she climbed, still dressed in her coat and boots. Rakash followed her closely, prepared to haul her up if the heft of her wet clothes took her under. Thankfully, it did not, though she moved sluggishly. It was like she waded through mud, instead of clear water.

"Dunk." Rakash pointed to the water, right in the middle of the swirling herbs and flowers.

Cordelia didn't argue. She simply drew in a deep breath and ducked under the warm water, right where he instructed. Rakash hovered by the water's edge, waiting for her to resurface. He aggravatedly wondered how long a human could hold their breath, just before Cordelia rose. Water streamed down her body, her coat, as she inhaled sharply.

When her eyes fluttered open, Rakash eased as he saw the black had faded to a dark grey. It was progress. Holding out his hand, palm up, he said, "Give me your hand."

"Rather forward," Cordelia sighed, her voice monotonous, but she held her arm out to him. As Rakash pushed the sleeve up over her forearm, he wondered if she had woodenly made a joke about his choice of words. 'To give one's hand' in marriage would certainly be forward. Rakash snorted at the very thought of requesting Cordelia's hand in marriage, especially at this juncture.

Focusing back on her arm, another wave of relief bled through him. The black mark had ceased its encroachment on her skin. That was another good sign, though Rakash stifled the delight in his chest. He was not going to celebrate, until this was entirely over.

"What was that thing?" Cordelia asked, her arm still in Rakash's grip. Her senses were slowly shaking off the shock. Her eyes climbed up from the black spot on her arm to his face.

He met Cordelia's eyes as he released her arm. "A thrall."

"What's that?" Her eyebrows furrowed as she sunk low in the water, up to her neck. For some reason, she instinctively thought keeping as much of her body under the water, for an extended period of time, was the best course of action.

"A soul who bartered with Death." Rakash sat on the edge of the spring, watching Cordelia with an intense gaze. She couldn't quite call it concern, but it was similar enough to add a strange heat to her thawing body. "They return as thralls, beings that exist in the space between life and death, meant to strike a number of others down in order to return to living."

"Ah..." It was a noncommittal reply, only meant to let him know she heard. In her head, she was replaying the whole event and trying to memorize what she'd seen of the creature before it was lost to trauma. Her lips pressed tightly, as her thoughts lolled over what it had said.

As if reading her mind, Rakash asked, "What did it say to you?"

Cordelia's head jerked to him, having momentarily forgotten he was there. She bit at her bottom lip, wondering if she should impart what the thrall had taunted her with. There was no way to tell if it was true or if the essence spoken about had been Ebra's soul. But, given the isolation on the mountain, like it had been.

Eventually, she sighed and relented. As lacking as Rakash's performance as a father had been, he still deserved to know. "That I had 'stolen that child's essence' back and a price had to be reaped."

Rakash narrowed his eyes, wondering if Ebra's illness had been the thrall's doing. It would make sense. A thrall had a number of powers to aid in their end goal. Though Rakash hadn't felt bad for lopping its head off earlier, he certainly felt a stronger sense of vindication now.

There was a slosh of water as Cordelia swam a little further out. Airily, as if it was no big deal, she added, "They also said I'm a necromancer."

Oddly, that didn't surprise Rakash. Many magic users had particularly strong personalities. And Cordelia certainly had that, plus an attitude to match. Although, considering his own solitude, Rakash was probably just unfamiliar with such character.

He watched the woman carefully, head cocked to the side as he discerned her reaction to the potential news. Her guarded mask had returned, firmly affixed. For some reason, that disappointed Rakash. "Are you a necromancer?"

That was not the answer Cordelia expected. She had anticipated a laugh or a derisive snort. Something to indicate that no, of course she wasn't a mancer, let alone one of the necro variety. Who could ever believe such a silly thing?

Turning to Rakash, Cordelia slapped her hands against the water. "Do I look like some creepy, death-dealing mage?"

The human shoved off the cot, standing in front of Rakash with a confidence that spoke of little to no survival instinct. Especially as they dared to smile up at him. “Cordelia. She/her.”

Rakash’s thoughts tripped, unable to keep up with this human’s thought process. “What?”

“Those are my name and pronouns. You might not have manners, but I do.” Cordelia motioned toward him with a flick of her wrist, before pressing her hand to her chest. If possible, her tone took on an even more cavalier air. “Polite company always introduces with name and pronouns.”

“Oh,” scoffed Rakash, with a roll of his eyes. If it wasn’t for the quasi-teasing tone in the human - Cordelia’s - voice, he’d have felt more irritable. Then again, perhaps it was exhaustion blunting his awareness. But, she wasn’t wrong. It was friendly and proper to introduce oneself. Even though their interactions so far hadn’t been either of those things, he grudgingly muttered, “Rakash, he/him.”

He thought Cordelia’s smile ticked a little brighter, but his own eyes burned too much to really be certain. Gods, he just wanted to lay down already.

“So, where should I sleep? I’m assuming this sad little bed is yours.” Cordelia looked at the cot

Rakash bit back a sigh. What was with this human? An uncomfortable sensation throbbed through his head, like a burr lodged into his temple that shifted with his every move. With an annoyed growl, he grumbled, “You’re leaving.”

“But it’s dark outside!” Her reaction was almost instantaneous. Faintly, Rakash wondered if she was still running on adrenaline or if this was her usual level of energy. As she stared up at him, her lower lip jutted out in a pout and her eyebrows dipping into a ‘v’. “You’ll be sending me off to my death. After kidnapping me.”

Another rumble vibrated through Rakash’s chest at the reminder of his misstep. She didn’t even flinch. Instead, her hands went to her hips and she held his glare. Then his attention dropped a little lower than her face, to the clothes he allowed her to borrow. They fit her as well as he expected, though he wished they hadn’t. For a long moment, Rakash stared down at the woman.

The neck of the yellow tunic hung low enough for Cordelia’s cleavage to peep out. The fabric draped over her breasts, cinched at her waist with the length of fabric he’d given her for a belt. Even the trousers - which he had been a little worried about since Karina’s legs had been more toned - seemed to fit snug around her hips and legs.

A confounding, frustrating mix of thoughts wobbled through his tired synapses. How the new clothes gave him a better view of her form. How his fingers twitched, curious to see if the softness her form suggested was the reality. How he was a terrible man for noting such a thing. How his late wife would have been angry with him for shoving Cordelia out into the deathly cold.   Everything else rattling about his head aside, Karina would have been incensed at his potential cruelty to the woman.

That thought got through the tangle. He couldn’t disappoint his wife, even if she were dead and unable to see it.

Without a word to the human, he stomped to the other room. He hoped she’d just leave. Let his wordless retreat be the push to send her out the door. There was no blood on his hands if she willingly left. Irritation prickled through Rakash as he returned, gathered furs and pillows in arm, seeing Cordelia had not moved from her spot. With a grumble, he tossed the pile of blankets and pillows into her arms.

With a savage point toward a spot in front of the fireplace, he growled, “There.”

“It would be nice if you didn’t treat me like a dog,” she commented, not even looking at Rakash as she surveyed the pile of furs and pillows in her arms.

Rakash wasn’t sure what it was that flared something in him. Her constant complaints. Her apt ability to use the most insulting tones. The way her nose wrinkled, likely with disgust, at the furs he offered after she insisted on staying the night. His own exhaustion and desire to get some sleep raged against her continued existence needing his attention.

Whatever it was, it pitched his voice into a low biting snarl, “Stop your bitching and I’ll stop treating you like a bitch.”

His words made Cordelia’s head snap up to him. Rakash only caught how her eyes flashed with rage before the furs came hurtling at his head, Cordelia giving a wordless snarl of her own. He simply allowed the pelts to thwap against him, before they fell to the floor. With a roll of his eyes, he moved toward his cot, settling on it with a groan.

The woman glared at him, apparently expecting something from him. What it was, he didn’t know. As he leaned over to untie his boots, she dropped to the indicated spot on the floor with such petulance Rakash could only cringe. It reminded him how his younger siblings would act, when denied something they wanted. Not to mention, that would be his future with his three little hellions.

Cordelia laid on her side and faced away from him with her arms crossed, wordlessly emanating ire. Silently, she glared into the flickering flames. Possibly hoping a stray spark would burn Rakash’s home down.

With his shoes off and finally being off his feet, a sense of shame crept into his thoughts. He couldn’t exactly blame the human for wanting to be returned somewhere familiar. Especially considering this whole thing was his foolish - albeit sleep-deprived - mistake. He pinched at the bridge of his nose, the now-acknowledged shame biting into him.

Rakash heaved a deep breath, looking back to Cordelia. She still glared into the flames. “I’m sorry I shouldn't have called you that.”

Speaking to her seemed to renew her rage. She pushed herself up and twisted to lodge her vicious glare at him. “You shouldn’t have kidnapped me!”

Rakash winced as Cordelia’s tone pitched high, crackling at the edges. “I told you, there were mountain bandits.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?” She pushed herself onto her knees, turning to face him. With an emphatic hand on her chest, she added, “Let me make the decision!”

“I thought I had. Besides, there wasn’t a lot of time.”

Sitting back on her heels, Cordelia crossed her arms and frowned. “Until that can be proven, my point stands.”

“I haven’t been sleeping well for months. I thought I told you, but…” He trailed off, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. He had no clue how to convince this human just how tired he’d been, how tired he still was. Pain throbbed behind his gaze and at his temples as sleep tried to drag him forcefully down.

The silence only lasted a breath, before Cordelia was hurling questions at him. “What about your family? Or your wife’s family? Why does your lack of sleep even matter when it comes to abducting me?”

Rakash didn’t move his hands from his eyes as he continued the hellish unending conversation. “Hers would sooner kill me. Mine would sooner kill my children.”

“So, here you are, a lonely parent struggling to raise three little sprats all on your lonesome.” Cordelia’s voice sounded anything but sympathetic. She didn’t sound convinced and there was a sharp mocking lilt to her tone. Rakash slowly lowered his hands to stare at her. Maybe his fatigue was getting the better of him, expecting her to be rude. He was met with a biting accusation and an unmoved expression on the woman’s face. “Quite the sob story.”

Rakash just stared. Between his exhaustion and the mounting irritation burning in his chest, he couldn’t find the energy to respond. He’d lost his wife, essentially had his heart ripped out, and was doing his best with three children. He was trying so hard. And this human thought he deserved derision. Why? Because she was inconvenienced? Or she thought he lied about it all?

Fucking ridiculous.

He flopped back on the cot, turning away from the human. The small bed rattled beneath him. Rakash was quietly thankful it hadn’t just clattered to the floor at that moment. Pulling a pelt over his body, blissfully closing his eyes, he grumbled one more demand to the human,“Go to sleep.”

There was a brief moment when he heard her mockingly mimic him. Rakash simply ignored her. Burrowing down under the blankets, Rakash willed himself to get as much sleep as possible. Nothing was going to rouse him from bed, except for one of his children.

And that was due to be in about two or, if he was lucky, three hours, when they’d want to be fed yet again.

He tried not to think how short of a time that was as his breathing slowly evened out.

x x x

When Cordelia next roused, after moodily falling asleep in anger, she instantly recalled her utterly unacceptable situation. The troll, the trek in the cold, the complete disregard for her. It flared her irritation at once, adding more oomph as she pushed into a sitting position.

Even though the children in the cribs had been confirmed to be Rakash’s - or at least trollish in heritage, considering their blueish skin and fur-tipped tails - she hadn’t grown less suspicious of him. His over-the-top sob story hadn’t helped her mood or her doubt. Oh, he lost his wife and can’t go to anyone for help with children. Hah! Right. About as believable as his ‘there were mountain bandits’ claim.

Then again, such a story seemed a bit much to lie about. But there was no one to confirm or deny anything he said. We’ll… except the triplets, but they were really reliable.

The fire still burned, though not quite as bright as earlier. With the pelts off her, she realized a slight chill had settled into the air. Not enough to be uncomfortable and certainly not enough to wake her.

So what had disturbed her?

A sound caught Cordelia’s attention. Small annoyed babbles issued from behind her. Turning, she caught sight of Rakash, feet planted on the floor while the rest of him slouched sideways on the cot. He’d apparently been sitting upright at one point.

In front of him, trying to tug a bottle from his grip, Kazri stood. Their tail flickered back and forth, their grunts of annoyance hedging into frustrated crying.

Cordelia came up behind the little one, surveying the scene with pursed lips. Kazri turned and looked up at Cordelia, their long pointed ears twitching at her approach.

“Da sleep.” Kazri pointed to the sleeping troll, before their finger drifted to the bottle. “Mine.”

“Ah, I see,” Cordelia replied, wondering what she should do. Rakash had not liked her help earlier. Besides, a part of her wanted to be petty and not help him, again. Just wake him up and let him suffer through being conscious as he tended to Kazri.

Cordelia’s hands planted on her hips as she frowned at his pose. He was going to end up with a crick in his neck. That would likely make him even more unpleasant. Why he didn’t choose an actual chair while feeding Kazri, Cordelia had no idea.

Catching a buzzing sound, Cordelia glanced down at the child. Kazri’s face scrunched up in concentration and Cordelia realized they were humming in thought. It took them a long beat, but they eventually settled on their profound request. With another point to the bottle, Kazri looked up at Cordelia. “Help?”

Under Kazri’s wide-eyed gaze - purple, like their father’s - Cordelia’s pettiness floundered. In this situation, lashing out at Rakash didn’t only hurt him. “I suppose I should.”

With the troll asleep, Cordelia took the chance to study him further. He was still huge and hulking, but less intimidating while sitting and asleep. Four tusks - slightly smaller than orcish tusks Cordelia realized - jutted out from his lower jaw. His dark blue skin was darker than his children’s own tones and contrasted against light-blue-almost-white hair. Though his eyebrows were dark, still tilted downward in a perpetually frustrated ‘v’ even in rest. Stubble dotted his jawline and bags still hung under his eyes.

Kneeling on the floor beside Kazri, Cordelia gently placed a hand over Rakash’s knuckles. With her free hand, she attempted to wiggle the bottle from his grasp. She tilted his heavy hand this way and that, managing to slide the prize closer and closer to freedom.

That is, until Rakash startled in his sleep. His grasp tightened on the bottle as he half-rose on his elbow.  With eyes bleary from sleep, Rakash’s attention fell on Cordelia. His eyebrows dipped into further confusion. “What are you doing?”

Sitting back in her heels, Cordelia informed him, “You fell asleep on Kazri.”

That was the wrong thing to say, Cordelia realized, as the troll’s eyes widened and he sat bolt upright. He twisted and turned, obviously looking for the child he fell asleep on top of.

“No! Not like that.” Before Cordelia could manage herself, her hand pressed to Rakash’s upper arm. He jerked at the touch, turning his attention to her. She simply plucked the bottle from his slackened grip, waggling it side to side. “They just want to finish their bottle, but you had a death grip on it.”

“Oh.” Almost at once, Rakash relaxed. Cordelia even thought his hair smoothed as he realized his child wasn’t in danger.

Cordelia handed the bottle off to Kazri, who happily accepted it with an affirmative grunt. They had barely brought their treat to their mouth, before their eyes alit on Cordelia once more. With their assertive finger pointing at Cordelia, Kazri said, “Sit.”

“I’m already sitting,” she snorted, though she suspected the trolling had other ideas.

“No.” Kazri sighed, much like Rakash sighed when put upon. “I sit.”

From the corner of her eye, Cordelia watched Rakash perk up, his ears jumping straighter. His tone was almost desperate as he said, “Kazri, I can hold you. I won’t fall asleep again.”

“Da lie.” Cordelia had to stifle a laugh. Kazri had said it so straightforward, completely unaware of how it obviously struck Rakash. With another point toward Cordelia, the trolling insisted, “I sit.”

“It’s fine.” Cordelia had already turned her back to the cot as she adjusted her legs in a crossed position. Kazri toddled over, flopping unceremoniously into the crux of Cordelia’s legs. As the trolling wriggled into a comfortable spot, she supported their upper back with her arm. “You sleep, Rakash.”

“But-” His words were cut off as Cordelia shot a livid glare at him. Rakash’s sleep-hazed mind must have watered down his stubbornness, she thought. Or perhaps he could sense the absolute vitriol she still harbored over his actions toward her. Either way, he clamped his mouth shut, stiff shoulders slumping.

“I’ve made my decision. As has Kazri.” She motioned toward the child with her free hand. They happily slurped away while lounging in Cordelia’s lap, like a sultan on a mountain of pillows. Her words were stern and offered no wiggle room for argument, “Get some rest.”

Though Rakash gave a disagreeable grumble, he offered no verbal complaint as he laid back on the cot. Cordelia could feel his eyes on her, watching her and his child. He didn’t trust her, which a small part of Cordelia knew was understandable. She still didn’t have to like it, though.

Before she knew it, Cordelia found herself humming and carding her fingers through Kazri’s hair. The tune was soft and melodic and dusty from past memories. She wasn’t even sure who first lulled her to sleep with the gentle hum. But it seemed to have the same effect on Kazri as it had on little Cordelia, all those years ago.

Soon enough, Kazri had fallen asleep, their belly full and the bottle now empty.

The lullaby was more effective than Cordelia realized, when she heard Rakash give a snort and rolled over on the cot in his sleep. Given how large he was, she was surprised he didn’t fall off the flimsy thing. Perhaps he had, at some point in the past. That petty part of her took solace in that thought, after once more helping the infuriating man.

With an irritable sigh to herself, Cordelia awkwardly got to her feet with the little troll in her arms. As she gently placed the child in the crib, she couldn’t help but dwell on how ungrateful Rakash would be in the morning. She’d be lucky if he remembered her good deed. Or even acknowledged it.

As Cordelia straightened from her stoop, she took a couple steps away from the cribs. With her hands on her hips, she waited.

Though she had very little experience in child rearing, intuition told her not to go back to bed. Even if she wanted to lay down, the fires of frustration still simmered in her veins. The urge to do something buzzed through her.

Without thinking, Cordelia glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping Rakash. He had ended up on his back, his chest rising and falling greatly with the rhythm of sleep. Cordelia’s gaze flickered over his large hands, recalling how warm and rough they were beneath her palm. A warmth crawled up her spine.

Before her thoughts could stray too far, Zalmir began tossing and turning, fussing grumpily. Silently, she thanked her intuition as she went to the crib. Hefting Zalmir up, she balanced the little troll on her hip. With a strange mix of affection and exasperation in her voice, Cordelia tapped the trolling on the nose. “Just as I thought. You little monsters don’t let your father rest, at all.”

Zalmir pulled back at their nose being touched, blinking groggily up at Cordelia. There was a moment’s confusion, realizing the adult who held them was not their father. But there were greater things on Zalmir’s mind. “Bah’tl?”

“Yes, bottle.” Cordelia reassured them, heading toward the kitchen. Her eyes trailed over the cabinets, the utensils, the stovetop. She had no clue where to start. “I might need your help. Can you help me?”

The trolling gave an affirmative grunt, making grabby hands at the floor. “Down.”

Once on the floor, Zalmir guided Cordelia through the kitchen, pointing to where the prepared bottles were - a hole carved into the hole, which amazingly acted as an ice box - and where to heat them up at. As Cordelia stumbled through the steps, she realized she probably took longer than Rakash. Thankfully, Zalmir didn’t seem to mind.

Soon enough, Cordelia was sitting on the floor once more, this time with Zalmir in her arms. They’d only managed to drink half their bottle, before Cordelia’s hummed lullaby lulled them to sleep.

As semi-expected, no sooner had she laid Zalmir to bed did Ebra begin stirring. As Cordelia went through the routine again, now more assured after the dry run with Zalmir, sleep began tugging at her eyes. It wasn’t enough to make her fall asleep while feeding Ebra, but enough to make her notice.

Caring for three babies certainly was a feat, she admitted to herself. As Ebra drank, she sleepily wondered what other things had to be done. Changings and bathing and, before now, burpings. She faintly wondered how bad the teethings were for trolls, especially the tusks. The triplets had one set of tusks, already. Had the three of them wailed as strange pains throbbed through their gums?

Through all these thoughts, an underlying consideration rippled. Rakash had gone through months of this. As Cordelia glanced toward the sleeping troll, she figured he did act like the exhausted parent of three. If he’d had any consciousness left in him, he’d have refused to allow Cordelia to take care of his children as she had.

But the troll had already ducked into a room adjacent from the hall. Faintly, she heard the thunk of opening trunks and rustling fabric. The vague sound of frustrated and rushed movement.

She ignored it, her eyes flickering back to her surroundings. Near the center of the cabin - had there been a back - a pillar of rock still stood. Inside that pillar, a hearty fire burned and the smoke went upward, to some unseen ventilated hole. Cordelia wondered how far up it went, before realizing, to the right of the pillar, was what looked to be a kitchen.

Moving toward it, Cordelia was a little surprised to see the sink appeared to have dwarven spigots, like an affluent noble’s home. She supposed it made sense. This troll likely bartered with something to get the pipes put in place. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. There was likely a spring nearby to siphon water from and deeper into the rock offered a natural cold box.

Her considerations of the logicality behind this abode came to a crashing halt as her foot landed on something soft and squeaky.

With a yelp, Cordelia jumped back. A scream readied itself in her throat as she imagined she had trod on a huge frost rat or some sort of ugly trollish pet.

But it was none of those. She bent to pick it up, eyeing the button eyes and floppy limbs. It was simply a toy. A ragged handmade toy, but a toy all the same.

Cordelia’s eyebrows dipped, staring at it. He hadn’t seemed the sort to keep toys, she thought. Something shifted to her left, catching her attention. Her attention snapped to three trough-like bits of furniture, set up in a semicircle near - but not too near - the fireplace. They were positioned in such a way, one could see them clearly from nearly anywhere in the cabin section of the home. Close to the strange furniture sat a cot, with a rumpled pillow and fur blanket.

She hadn’t seen them earlier. Or perhaps she hadn’t wanted to see them.

Weren’t there rumors of trolls stealing human children to eat?

Before Cordelia could edge closer to the cribs, the blue behemoth returned. They shot her a glare, as if to say ‘I told you not to move.’ Instead of speaking, they held up a small stack of clothes in one hand and boots in the other.

There was a beat of silence, as both of them stared, each expecting the other to come closer. Finally, Cordelia chose to be the bigger person. Warily she closed the distance between herself and the troll, reaching to grab the offerings.

“Your… mate won’t mind me taking these?” Cordelia shifted through the clothes, wrinkling her nose at the color and texture of the fabric. The boots, at least, were tolerable. And they would be warm.

“My wife is dead.” The troll pulled a chain that hung around his neck out from under his clothing. Two rings, one far larger than the other, hung on it. They certainly appeared to be simple wedding rings, but whether they actually belonged to the troll was another question. Turning away from her, the troll stalked toward the kitchen. “Get changed in the first room down the hall and leave.”

“I have no clue where I am, thanks to you,” she reminded them, a heavy amount of accusation in her tone. With the troll turned away, Cordelia hazarded a curious glance to the cribs. “I need a map.”

“I’ll find one. Go,” the troll growled, jabbing a finger in the direction of a separate room though they refused to face her.

Cordelia took a breath to look between the cribs and the troll’s broad back, her eyes narrowing. Curiosity nipped at her thoughts. She wished she had more time to look into the cribs, see what was there. Troll or human, whatever the children were, the blue behemoth would likely be tetchy at her looking.

Cold ached through her feet and she turned and headed to the other room.

Regardless of what was in the cribs, traipsing about the troll’s lair in only a nightie a moment longer made her already cold feet ache worse. Best to wear something durable before doing something rash, decided Cordelia.

Still, she couldn’t help risking one last glance at the cribs, before ducking into the other room to change.

x x x

The human was taking a long time to just put on simple clothes, Rakash thought sourly. He’d hoped to get the annoying thing out of his home before feeding time. But as feeding time drew nearer, Rakash couldn’t wait any longer. Better to have the milk warmed and ready, instead of suffering the pain of three squalling tots.  

As expected, Zalmir’s red-haired self popped up from their crib, at the rustle of the pans. They were soon followed by Kazri whining. With Kazri on Rakash’s hip and Zalmir in a feeding chair - so their father could keep one hand free - Ebra inevitably began fussing. Loudly. They stood in their crib, little fingers clutched to the stone rail, and their mouth wide in erratic sobs.

It was going to be another night of patchy sleep. The thought made Rakash’s body ache and a throb echo behind his eyes. Kazri watched quietly as Rakash tended to the milk while Zalmir pounced rhythmically on the chair’s feeding table, as if to chant for food. To the third child, he simply sighed and spoke above the wailing, “The milk is warming as quick as possible, Ebra.”

For a few more seconds, the bawling continued. Rakash tuned it out, focusing on the task at hand.

When the silence fell, Rakash’s head snapped up. That sound had been foreign in this household, whenever the triplets were up. The human had silently re-emerged from the other room without his notice. Although, they had gained the notice of all the children, each watching with wide eyes. And the human gathered Ebra up in their arms.

For a brief second, Rakash’s brain had fooled him, though. He thought Karina had returned from the dead. Until the long dark hair, so unlike his late wife’s golden tresses, registered. The lump in his throat dropped to his stomach, especially as the human taunted his child.

“Well, aren’t you a little terror, hm?” The human tapped Ebra on the nose, making the little one scrunch their face before they reached for her hand. The human shot Rakash a look, eyebrow cocked. “Family trait?”

He could feel his hair and the fur along the back of his shoulders bristle. Through gritted teeth, he growled low, “Put them down.”

“They’ll just go back to crying.” There was a sing-song warning in the human’s voice. It grated on Rakash’s patience. Ebra had managed to grasp the human’s hand, turning it this way and that and babbling. Rakash couldn’t even imagine what a troll child thought was so intriguing. Perhaps the human’s pinkish skin tone, considering every other skin tone in Ebra’s memory was likely some shade of blue.

He really, truly wished Ebra would go back to screaming, to squirming uncomfortably in the human’s arms. Or that the human wouldn’t humor his child’s curiosity. It pinged something deep in his chest. Something he couldn’t bear to look at right now.

“Down,” snarled Rakash, jabbing a finger back at the crib. Even after the word left his lips, the growl did not. It warbled through his chest, vibrating through the air. Most humans would fear that echoing rumble. Cowed into submission.

This human did not even sag. Their dark eyes flicked from Ebra, who they watched with some sort of macabre fascination, to Rakash. With a shrug, they simply sighed, “Fine.”

Satisfaction eased Rakash’s bristling fur, as the human carefully set Ebra into the crib. He managed to return to the milk over the fire, before something in the air flickered. Rakash’s fur bristled again as Ebra began fussing, then whinging, before finally bawling.

He shot a glance at the child, who stood in their crib and made persistent grabby hands at the human who infuriatingly stood close to the crib. The human had their arms crossed over their chest, a knowing smile on their lips.

Zalmir and Kazri started following their sibling’s lead after a few breaths, whining and fidgeting in their respective spots. Rakash clenched his eyes shut, his temples throbbing with pain. He just… couldn’t deal with this.

Not right now. Not after everything that had been happening. He just didn’t have the fortitude.

If the human wanted to pick up his child, what was the problem? They were no match for him, should they try something horrible with Ebra. The moment of quiet had, admittedly, been a little salve. Especially amid months of frantically caring for these three.

Rakash hated the sense of defeat that filled his own chest. “Pick them back up.”

To the human’s credit, they didn’t gloat or push him to say more. They simply shot him a smug smirk, before dipping down to lift Ebra from the crib. Almost at once, Ebra’s fussing stopped, replaced by curious coos. Their siblings calmed and quieted, as well. Both quiet and curious as the strange thing held their sibling.

As Rakash finished preparing the bottles - an uncharacteristic calm between the triplets making the work faster - the back of his eyes burned hotter and his head pulsed from fatigue. To Zalmir, the largest of the three, he handed the bottle. The little red-head trolling had become adept at feeding himself. Kazri, the smallest of the three, he still held in his arms.

Which left Ebra. Usually, Rakash would fumble with the remaining two and the bottles, sitting himself on the cot that was stationed close to the cribs. The human looked up expectantly at him, eyebrows raised but not proffering their hand for the bottle. There was an amusement in their eyes that chafed at Rakash’s sense.

“Should I feed them?”

Rakash looked from the human to Ebra to the bottles balanced in his own hand. Kazri was making grabby hands toward the bottles, grunting in agitation at the delay. Ebra appeared content to stay in the human’s arms.

Once more, Rakash’s chest filled with a sense of defeat and he - against his better judgment - held a bottle out to the human.

“Good choice,” the human laughed, accepting the bottle from Rakash’s hand. Their fingertips skimmed over his palm, sending tingles up his arm. He clamped down hard on the feelings, watching as the human surveyed his home. Their eyes landed on the cot and, without shame, they sauntered over and sat down.

Rakash slowly followed them, sitting down on the remaining length of the cot. Tension wrought up his back. It was the closest the two had been, since he’d thrown the human over his shoulder and made off with them in the night.

Quiet descended in the household, as the triplets noisily suckled from their bottles.

Ebra finished first, as they always did. Despite Zalmir’s size, Ebra always seemed the speedier eater of the two. Setting the empty bottle to the side, the human stood and swayed with the trolling for a beat, a look of uncertainty pinching their features.

“Should I… what’s it called? Pat them on the back until they…” As their sentence trailed off, the human made a ‘bleh’ sound. Apparently imitating the way babies spat up after meals.

“They’ve outgrown spitting up.” Rakash tried to ignore a conflicting feeling in his chest. Relief, perhaps. Or maybe some level of thankfulness. He simply chalked it up to being too tired to fight or scoff at the ignorant human. “Ebra and Kazri simply like being held when eating. Zalmir is more independent.”

As he said the children’s names, he nodded to each in turn. Ebra, in the human’s arms. Kazri, in his own arms. Zalmir, slurping away at his bottle in their chair. The human followed Rakash’s nodded inciations, a thoughtful expression on their face. As if they were actually filing the trollings’ names away for later.

That thought brought another swirl of conflict in Rakash. Encouraged, yet suspicious. Why would this human need to know his children’s names? What did they plan to do? With a grunt, Rakash shook his head, dispersing the paranoid thoughts. The human didn’t plan to do anything. They were alone and too weak to put up any fight.

“So, just back in the bed, then?” The human spoke up once more, rousing Rakash’s tired eyes to them. Ebra was starting to nod off in their arms thanks to the swaying.

Rakash nodded, giving an affirmative grunt, though his gaze returned to Kazri. They were always the slowest at eating, often getting distracted and looking about with their wide purple eyes. Tonight seemed different. Perhaps the excitement of the new person made them drowse easier. Or maybe without Rakash fiddling with both Ebra and Kazri, the latter was able to rest quicker.

He couldn’t - shouldn’t - get used to this moment of assistance and reprieve. It was going to be short-lived and then he’d be on his own again, tending to his children. Hunting and gathering what he could in the limited time his children slept. Getting a few hours a sleep in between feedings.

A weak part of him started to wonder if, maybe, having another set of hands wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

Defiance bristled in him as he, once more, shook his head.