by Viola Grace
Camder chuckled. “The engineers have all donated copies of their mental imprints to the tower, including voiceprints.”
“Why?”
“As I have stated before. Sometimes the elves need others to speak to.”
The webbing around her legs was covered with the extruded fabric, and when he chimed completion of her clothing, she stood straight and rubbed her hands down her legs. The long vest emerged on a hangar, and she slipped it on, buckling it together and then turning to check the view. She grabbed a crossbody bag for snacks and checked her appearance. Wearing all black in a pastel community was now her thing. It wasn’t a stigma; it was just accepted as part of her identity.
“You have a message.” Camder was amused.
She walked over to her desk and checked her messages. The displayed text and image made her smile. “My nieces and nephews. I can really tell whose parent is whose. Wow. They are going to be changing soon. Time has sure flown by.”
Camder’s voice came from her bracelet. “You will have to get used to that. It is why your first night was important. It is your switch from the mortal world to the ageless. Your turning from your own people to the elves.”
She sent a reply to her mother, and then, she headed to the dining area to have some breakfast and tea. Niika was an early riser, and she was always a good person to talk things out with. This was the best time to catch her.
She headed down to the dining area, got some sandwiches that were wrapped for her adventure, and a cup of tea, as well as a flask of water.
Niika was sitting with a book and a pot of tea. Habel walked up to her and paused. “May I join you?”
Niika beamed. “Habel, please. Have a seat. So, how was it?”
Habel cocked her head and focused on her tea. “It was definitely something I would like to repeat.”
“Do you have a guess as to who it was?” Niika was squirming in her chair.
“I have a guess who it was and also who it was supposed to be. The two were not the same.”
Niika paused. “What?”
“One of my instructors was tapped to do it, but that was not the man in bed with me. The hands were different. Different callouses.”
Niika was stunned. “You are joking.”
Habel gave her a look over the rim of her teacup.
“Who do you think it was?”
“I do not wish to get anyone in trouble, so I am not going to say, but I am fairly certain.”
Niika sat back. “That never happens. There is always a record made by the lover the night after the event. I was going to peek right after breakfast.”
Habel grinned. “Does Ibera have it?”
“It is in the private archive of Monathian.”
Habel got to her feet. “Gotta go. Bye!”
She had her bag of snacks over her, and she sprinted to the private archive, using Monathian’s code to enter. She read the account in the book after a bit of searching for the right tome. It was out on a lectern. The signature was the one she associated with that scent and those hands. Nodding to herself, she headed out to her day in the forest. It was just what she needed to absorb the details of what had just happened.
She ran into the forest and kept running until she was winded. She turned and looked back at the tower and smiled at the distance she had covered. Habel sat silently and felt her ears twitching at the sounds of nature around her.
So. She sighed. According to the documents, it had been Khyran with her the previous day. How he had gotten there and why he was allowed to sign the official documents were baffling. Nerion had been the original decision. She could tell because his contact during their combat trials had changed. He had wrapped his arms around her and tried to get her used to his touch, which was strange considering their two decades of friendship without any romantic overtures previously.
She sat for hours and replayed the touches, the stroking, and the strange feeling of trusting someone else with her body. The hours had been spent in silence, and that was something that she wished had changed.
She heard a footfall and turned to see Nerion standing on a nearby rock. “Afternoon.”
She dug out a sandwich. “Want one?”
He chuckled. “You don’t seem despondent or depressed about yesterday. Niika was worried.”
Habel cocked her head. “Why did you put your name on the list?”
“I wanted you to have someone you trusted who cared for you in return. I believe that is what we had.”
She laughed. “It wasn’t you, dumbass. The hands were wrong. Khyran’s hands are a lot rougher than yours are. You have bands of tough skin from the sword work. Different feeling.”
He sat next to her and took the sandwich. “You knew the whole time?”
“The moment that I burned my hands with the tea.” She shrugged. “Also, there is the little issue that I still have most of my troll senses. Dragons and elves smell different. He did do a good job of hiding his wings, though.”
Nerion mumbled as he ate. “He can hide them if he wants to but not for very long.”
“That was the confusing part. He smelled like Khyran, but the wings were missing.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. He and I had it worked out, and I was willing to swear to even you that it was me and not him. I am both relieved and disappointed that you don’t think it was me.”
She grinned. “We are friends, Nerion. You can take lovers as you like. I am not like that. Even though this was supposed to open me up to the wonderful world of following my impulses, I am not inclined to do so. I like being me, just as I am. The sex was lovely and exciting, but it isn’t what I am going to build my life around. Khyran has gone his way, and I will go mine. I am good with that, and he is as well.”
Nerion smiled slowly. “Are you sure? I haven’t seen him this focused on anyone, and I have known him for hundreds of years.”
She shrugged. “Focused or not, I have a job to do, and I do it very well. His focus isn’t my concern. By the way, don’t tell him that I know if he doesn’t bring it up. He might not want it to be common knowledge.”
They chatted as they drank the water, and then, they started back to the tower at a slow jog when Nerion asked, “So how was he?”
She tried to stomp on her reaction and said, “Pretty good.” Her mind flashed back to lying with his body around hers and their breathing even. She stumbled and slammed into a tree.
Nerion helped her back up and laughed. “Pretty good, indeed.”
They continued back, and she took more care of her path. He was going to be teasing her about this for years. She just knew it.
She grinned as they got back to the tower and headed for the dining area. Definitely pretty good.
Author’s Note
Well, with only one instalment left for book one of the Habel Trollblood series, I have some decisions to make. I know where she is going, but what will she do once she gets there?
As the only elf in the last hundred years, she has responsibilities and duties to the elves of the tower, but is it worth pledging the rest of her very, very long life to?
I will figure it out. I am sure.
Thanks for reading,
Viola Grace
Years have passed, and Habel continues her journey to nudge the elves into social interaction with other races. Her own interaction is her business.
Habel has enjoyed learning all she could, gaining new skills and new friends. Her heart still aches to find a companion, but she doesn’t see one when she looks at the elves around her.
When the dragon engineer asks to meet her for dinner, her heart beats a little faster. When she puts her hand in his, her pulse trips like a hammer. Her heart had chosen him years ago; she just hadn’t let him know. He had never asked.
Part Five: Reliving a Moment
She completed her fifth tour of the garden area in the week. Upgrading the gardens and irrigation systems for the races interested in the newest tech was on the agenda for the tower. It
had been a hundred years since the last upgrade, and some of the old systems needed replacing.
Khyran was with the group, keeping track of the sirens and answering questions about the equipment designs.
Habel was checking out some of the tomatoes when someone bumped into her. She wobbled, and a hand wrapped around her waist to steady her.
Khyran murmured, “Apologies.”
She nodded and fought the memory of the same hand wrapped around the same spot years earlier. At least this time, they were clothed and vertical. “Thanks for the catch.”
He didn’t move. She looked back and up at his dark eyes. “Are you planning on letting go?”
He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “No. Not particularly.”
She put her hand over his. “We might want to discuss this?”
He smiled. “Your lack of grace? Certainly. What are you doing for dinner?”
“Don’t you have to steer your group around?”
Khyran shook his head. “Khydel is taking them to see the water-processing centre.”
“Ah. Well, I do need to eat dinner.” She smiled slightly. “So, we finish the tour and then handoff?”
“Please. It has been difficult to get you alone.” His fingers flexed against her.
Habel covered her mouth and snickered. Monathian kept them apart diligently. He got her friends in on the action, and she was rarely free when Khyran was in the tower, and when she was, he wasn’t.
She wanted to lean into him, but there were a half-dozen interested sirens staring at them. “I believe we have an audience.”
He inhaled slowly. “I don’t care.”
She gripped his fingers and pried his hand away. “I do. I have a job to do.”
“As do I, and yet, here I am.” Khyran smiled.
She pulled his middle finger back, and he hissed and let go. There was a chuckle from the eldest female of the sirens. Her mate snickered as well.
She looked at the group, accounted for them all, and inclined her head. “Pardon my clumsiness. This way to the cucumbers.”
Khyran smiled and followed her. “The cucumbers require more subsoil watering. Let me show you the basic irrigation system.”
They walked through the rest of the gardens, and the elves had proved that the dragon designs were appropriate to the task once again.
It had taken her years to gain all the details. The dragons designed and built the technology, the elves used and perfected the tech. The rest of the world was fed and clothed by the same machines like the ones developed in the tower.
The settlements, clans, and villages of different races came to the tower to choose their tech once every ten decades or so. For installation and repairs, the dragons were on duty, which is why they worked with the night trains. They could bring tech and supplies anywhere in the warrens of tunnels that they called their own. Every race created or provided something that was necessary to keep other races alive, healthy, and happy. Some races mined minerals; others had volcanic soil that made excellent bases for growing certain plants. It all interconnected, and she was part of the chain.
The garden tour went on for another forty minutes, and then, Khydel took over and led the group through the tower.
Habel watched Khyran approach, and she tilted her head. “Dining room or one of the small establishments?”
He smiled. “I think that something with some privacy would be best.”
Habel nodded. “I am pretty sure that I know a place.” She lifted her arm and said, “Camder, can you see if Riikor has a spot for us?”
“Of course, Habel.”
Khyran blinked. “Camder?”
“Computer-assisted manufacturing, design, extrusion, and repair.” She chuckled. “He selected it.”
“It is odd to hear my voice coming through your bracelet.”
“It is my voice; it merely resembles yours, Khyran.”
She grinned at the startled look in the dragon’s eyes. “So, what is the result, Camder?”
“You may proceed. Riikor is happy to have you and your guest.”
Habel laughed at the expression in Khyran’s eyes. “You seem perturbed.”
“The AI was so much nicer in your first few years.”
She turned and spoke as she led the way. “When you were trying to influence him into dressing me in sexy outfits?”
He took a few steps and offered her his hand. She slid her fingers along his, and he closed his grip around her hand carefully.
“We are going to level four, southwest corner.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
They walked through the public areas, and far fewer people stopped to stare than they did on her first day with Niika.
Khyran chuckled. “I thought that more people would be staring.”
She smiled. “I have desensitized them. It took decades, but I managed it.”
“Are you still the only novice?”
She nodded. “I am.”
He sighed. “So, they wouldn’t let you take a trip then.”
Habel shrugged. “It depends on where I was going. I really want to see my family before my mother passes. I have been keeping track, and she should be close to passing into her next life.”
“That is one of the things I wished to discuss. I will be making a journey to the troll settlement shortly and was wondering if you could get clearance to accompany me.”
She glanced at him, but he was looking forward. They entered the lift and headed up to the fourth level. There were far fewer folks milling around here. They walked to the southwest edge of the building, and Riikor’s subtle signage was above the door.
When they entered, the host bowed and smiled. “Please, Novice Habel, come this way.”
Khyran looked around. “What is this place?”
“Riikor describes it as a private feast. It is not for the faint of heart.”
“Huh. I guess it has been a while since I was here.” He grinned. “The couches have no backs.”
Habel smiled as they were escorted to a private area surrounded by decorative panels. The two low couches were at right angles, and there was a low table accessible to both. She waved at him. “Pick your spot.”
Khyran settled on his left side, and she felt her cheeks heat. One night years earlier and just the look of him settling in sent memories through her. She exhaled and settled on her couch. Her face was less than a foot from his, so she straightened up a little.
The server brought out bowls and towels, waiting while they washed their hands and then whisking the items away. The food and drink arrived a few moments later, and Habel offered the first selection to her guest. “Go ahead.”
He blinked. “Just pick anything?”
“Sure. Start with dessert first if you like.”
He picked up one of the cream tarts with fresh berries on it and smiled as he handed it to her.
Habel blinked. “Thank you.”
He smiled. “I think they are one of your favourites.”
She chuckled. “They are. Have you been spying on me near buffet tables?”
“Only once or twice.”
She bit into the small tart and quickly had to rescue the shattered pastry with her hand and then her tongue. She glanced at him and mumbled, “Why are you watching?”
“Just storing away a mental image for when I am alone on the train runs.”
She finished the tart and picked up a skewer with cubes of meat and vegetable in equal measure.
She nibbled at the meat and looked at him. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
“There was an incident a few years ago that I would like to discuss with you.”
Habel nodded and continued to eat. “You don’t say. What kind of incident?”
He reached for a piece of meat, dipped it in the spiced oil, and popped it into his mouth. “It is a delicate subject?”
“Is it when you transformed and left a message for me to get off your balls?”
He coughed
. “Is that what the message said?”
“That was relatively close. Time has blurred my memory somewhat as I was laughing too hard.” She smiled and set down the skewer with the roasted tomatoes on it.
“You don’t like tomatoes?”
“I don’t like them hot with skin on.”
“Fair enough. I was referring to your first night.” He blurted it out, his dark grey skin looking even darker.
“Ah. That. Nerion let slip that he was the one that was drawn for it.”
Khyran froze. “He did?”
She smiled and picked up some fruit to nibble at, giggling. “You should see your face. Khyran, I knew it was you when I burned my fingers. Before that, if I recall correctly, I was ninety percent sure that it was you.”
He stared at her. “You knew? All this time?”
She shrugged. “Of course. I may have shiny skin and pointy ears, but I still have the sense of smell I would have had as a troll. I caught your scent when you entered the room, and it just got stronger as the night went on.”
He blinked slowly. “You knew.”
“Yup.” She nibbled at the food and flicked light glances at him. “Why do you look like you just choked on one of the skewers?”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t my business. You were acting like nothing happened. Nerion was relieved that I figured it out.”
“You haven’t taken other lovers since.”
Habel shrugged. “There was no point. I don’t want any of them, so why would I?”
He exhaled slowly, sat up, and reached for her, pulling her onto his lap. He inhaled against the space between her neck and shoulder. “Why don’t you want them?”
She touched his cheek. “I was raised that I would choose my mate, he would battle for the honour of fathering my children, and we would grow old together. None of that is possible here, but the instincts are still wired into me.”
“So, back then, you chose me?”
Habel stroked his cheek again. “I chose you the first time I met you, but I had no idea if it was acceptable or not. I was still learning, and I also had no idea what those impulses meant with this body. I also had impulses to punch people, but not acting on them became habit.”