Troll - 1. Chapter 1

The darkness under the bridge kept him from ever having to deal with the possible damage the sun could cause him. Unlike most of his kind, he really didn’t care about anyone using his bridge, or much of anything else, as long as he was left alone. That is the thing about trolls; they do like their privacy. Unfortunately, this wasn’t going to be the case for this troll, for he was to meet Calvin, who would change his whole world.

The rain had been falling steadily for two days now, here in the early spring. The river was rising and the cave he had clawed out of the rock as his home might soon be in danger if this continued. People had begun earlier in the day to move from the lower plains in the south, over the bridge, toward higher ground where the local palace stood. All day long he heard the clunk, clunk, clunk, and tap, tap, tap as wagons and feet moved overhead as people pushed forward on their journey.

“Keep quiet up there,” he groaned softly, as he heard the noise echoing into his cave. “You have no respect for a troll’s home.”

He went and sat on the edge of his cave letting his feet dangle inches from the running water. The water was dark and brackish, flowing quickly past. He watched the leaves and branches that had been caught in the water spin and weave as they swept past him.

It was while he sat there in the darkness of the bridge that he heard the muffled cry and then the screaming.

“Stupid boy. How many times have I told you, stop that nonsense and watch after the sheep? We lost one of them now.” The sound of flesh hitting flesh was especially loud to a troll’s large conical ears.

He could hear the sniffling and a moment later was surprised to see a small boy land on his back across from him on the other side of the bridge. He hit with such force that he seemed to make a crater in the mud and then didn’t move.

“Don’t you dare come home, boy, unless you find that missing sheep.” The deep voice from above commanded like a god. A moment later, the sounds of a wagon, many sheep, and someone striding away could be heard above, until silence fell again.

The troll watched, but the figure of the boy didn’t move.

“Can’t have a dead body lying under my bridge. It will make the whole thing smell, and I ain’t moving.”

The troll slowly stood up and jumped straight up into the air. His strong claws caught little gaps in the stone and he pulled himself across under the bridge. With a slurping sound he landed in the deep mud beside the boy.

“Wake up, boy,” the troll began as he made his voice deep and threatening, “before I eat you.”

The boy continued to lay there unconscious, just barely in the light of the sun. The troll looked out of the side of the bridge. The sun was setting, and even from where he stood, he could tell that the light would be gone shortly and the night would soon be his. He leaned against the side of the bridge and waited.

As the darkness spread, the troll’s vision improved to where he could see the bugs crawling over the dark rich wet dirt. He clumped his way through the thick, viscous mud reaching the boy’s side. He could clearly see the boy’s chest rising and falling, but the child made no attempt to open his eyes.

“Grrrr. It would be easier to drown your worthless hide, boy.”

Reaching down, the troll scooped the boy out of the mud and made his way topside. The roadway was empty, as the troll carried the figure across the bridge and down the other side. He made his way to his cave and looked for a spot to drop the boy. He had his nest and not much else. So he was forced to put the boy there before he moved toward his wood pile. He began his nightly work of building a small fire that warmed the cave and created a small light in the darkness. He slipped out again and went hunting.

There were many different types of trolls and all different types of abilities among them. However, this troll was a bridge troll. He was small, stocky, and very strong. He had wiry brown hair the stuck out from his rocky sort of body. He was quick to action and fast on his feet. Each night, he used his size and strength to his advantage when he went hunting. Tonight, he sat high in a tree limb, watching a deer slowly come into the clearing below. Once he was sure of his prey, he dropped like a stone onto its back and sliced its throat open with his claws.

“Looks like I eat meat tonight.” He smiled, showing his teeth, as he lifted the deer up and swung it easily over his shoulder. Unlike most of his fellow trolls, he had taken a liking to cooked meat so he headed back to his cave to roast his deer.

When he returned he was surprised to hear a soft moaning. He had nearly forgotten the boy that he had dragged back to his cave.

Tearing off the rear legs he stuck them over the fire on a stick to cook. The rest of the deer he would cook later, so he left it on the edge of his cave. Looking in he realized the boy would need some of the food and water as well.

“Damn boy. Still might be easier to kill him than care for him.” Even as he grumbled about it he strode across the cave. He took the one pot he had and smiled. It had been thrown at him by an old woman years ago when she had seen him as she was crossing the bridge in her cart. She cursed when she realized he had caught the pot and moved quickly away. Now he took the pot and headed out of the cave. He had kept it, and used it to get water from the nearby spring.

When he returned again with a pot full of water he found the boy was sitting up and looking at the legs of the deer hungrily.

“Don’t even think about it.”

The boy turned and looked at him in fear, his face losing color and his eyes opening wide.

It was only now that the troll truly took stock of the boy. He was older than he thought when he had been unconscious. The boy was probably closer to a man than a child, he was just small for his age. He had dark black hair that curled like the many lambs and sheep he often caught for his meals. His dark brown eyes seemed to be locked in horror, with his mouth making a perfect “o”.

“Shut your mouth. If I wanted you dead, you would be already.”

The boy shuddered and curled up into a fetal position on the troll’s nest of skins.

“Who are you?” The boy looked at him with wide eyes.

“Troll.”

“I know what you are, but what is your name?”

The troll looked at the boy and shook his head.

“You …” There was a pause as the boy licked his dry lips before he spoke again. “You mean you don’t have a name?”

“I’m a troll. What difference does a name make?”

The boy sat back a moment. Then tilted his head and really seemed to study the troll.

“Drink, boy.” The troll held out the pot.

“I’m Calvin.”

The troll just stood there holding out the pot.

Finally Calvin reached out and took the pot. “Thank you.”

The troll strolled over and checked the legs. He had used his claws to remove the skin and fur before cooking the meat. Now he checked to make sure it was fully cooked before he pulled them off. Reluctantly he passed one of the legs over to Calvin before he devoured his.

Calvin ate in silence, alternating between eating the leg of deer and sipping the water from the pot. He watched the troll, who had finished eating his leg, then he took the bones and tossed them into the rapidly moving water below the cave. As Calvin watched, the troll sliced the head off the deer and butchered the meat with his claws. When he finished he carefully dried his claws and then carried the meat back inside on a long stick.

“The leg won’t hold me long, boy, so I am going to cook the rest of this. Do you need more water?”

Calvin shook his head no and watched as the troll set up the meat across the fire again. The boy was surprised the cave didn’t fill with smoke, but then noticed there was a small hole above the fire. The troll watched where the boy was looking and smiled.

“The hole lets out beneath a bush and a tree. They hide the smoke here on this side of the bridge. Most are too scared knowing a troll lives here to come looking for me, but why confirm exactly where I am?”

Calvin nodded, and soon fell asleep where he sat. The troll watched the boy sleep, unsure why he was doing any of this.

When Calvin woke the next day, he sat up again and looked at the troll, who had curled up on part of the nest and fallen asleep. The troll was solid, and Calvin found himself reaching out to touch the creature. As he did, the troll seemed to sense he was awake. Soon Calvin found himself caught in the dark silver eyes that snapped to attention as the troll sat up and stared at him.

“Thank you for helping me.” Calvin carefully slipped his hand back into his lap as he watched the troll roll to the side of the nest.

The troll grumbled but didn’t say anything as he stood and scratched his chest.

Calvin took in the troll’s dark rocky skin, obvious size, and figure, and smiled for a moment.

“I name you Rock.”

“Rock? A troll doesn’t have a name, boy.”

“Well you do. I’m calling you Rock from now on.”

So, for the first time in history, a troll had a name, and it was Rock.

It rained heavily again that day, so Calvin stayed inside Rock’s cave. When night fell, Rock helped Calvin find a sheep that he could bring home. Rock figured that would be the end of it, especially now that the rains had stopped, but it wasn’t. Day after day, Calvin showed up late at night to talk and share the things that had happened to him during the day.

It was a strange relationship that developed between them. Slowly each night, Calvin showed up at Rock’s cave. At first Rock stayed as far away from the boy as he could, but eventually, the two began to talk. Rock would sit with the fire burning and Calvin would arrive and sit beside Rock, even daring to occasionally touch his arm. Night after night, they talked about the events of the day, what was happening in the human world, and how lonely Calvin was, and how grateful he was to be able to talk to Rock and not have to sleep in the small barn near were the sheep where kept each night.

“So I managed to keep the sheep safe from the wolf. My father didn’t even try to beat me today. It was a fairly good day, Rock.”

“So you seem to be doing better.”

“Rock, can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.”

Calvin stared at Rock. He shook his head and sighed before he spoke again.

“I never know if you are joking or not. Do trolls have a sense of humor?”

“Not really. Trolls aren’t like you. We don’t really feel extreme happiness or sadness - just small degrees of pleasure or pain. Trolls do not laugh as you humans do for joy, or cry when we are in pain. Some trolls can walk in the sun and fight like a creature possessed. Others of us cannot go into the sunlight. We’d turn to stone if we did. However, we’re a tough breed.”

“But you have been hurt. I’ve seen you come back with that scar on your stomach from the boar you fought.”

Rock smiled as he remembered the battle with the boar. He had eaten well due to its enormous size. Even his rough skin had been slightly pierced by the powerful tusks of the boar as he had made the final death blow with his claws.

“I didn’t say we were incapable of being hurt. We are just not ones for great emotion. Trolls can’t cry.”

“You can’t cry?”

“We lack …” Rock thought about how to answer this. Trolls really never thought of their lives or emotions. They were born, they found their niche in life, and they stayed there till the end. “I guess you can say we lack whatever it is that allows you to live like you do. We just don’t feel or worry about things like you humans do.”

Calvin laughed.

“What is so funny?”

“You. Rock, you worry more about me than my own father did. You’re my best friend.”

Rock was silent the rest of the night as he thought about what Calvin had said.

Rock hated to admit it, but he was waited for Calvin to show up. It became a part of his routine. Sharing some of his kill from that day, he listened to the things that happened beyond his bridge. He learned of the growing skills that Calvin had, the festival that was soon to happen, the announcement that the King was looking for mates for all three of his sons. He learned of the work being done to build a mill down the stream from his bridge and how most people weren’t sure if he really did live under the bridge cause he didn’t seem to challenge them if they crossed his bridge.

As the seasons changed, Calvin grew ever more comfortable with Rock, now even being so bold as to lay his head in Rock’s lap and talk. It was during one of these conversations that Rock noticed a difference in Calvin.

“You don’t mention your father much anymore boy. Is something wrong?”

Calvin blinked and blushed. “Um,” he barely whispered. “No, not really.”

Rock noticed the clothes weren’t so worn and Calvin seemed to smell better than he used to.

Calvin didn’t say much about his changes, but Rock noted them. He also began to notice changes in himself. The ones happening to him were something he didn’t know how to explain.

Last month, he had woken thinking of his conversation with Calvin, when he noticed a dark crack in the skin of his arm. Each day, the crack seemed longer and darker, and then it began to flake. Over the past month his dark grey skin had slowly cracked and peeled away. Now, his skin no longer seemed as hard, and had changed to a sort of dusky tan color. He had taken to keeping to the shadows as much as possible whenever Calvin arrived so as not to scare him with his changes.

The other major issues had been his claws and his ears. All of his life, his claws had been sharper than the sharpest steel. They were long and easily an extension of his natural prowess. Now two of them had broken off, and his long sharp claws were left smooth and flat like those of a human. He worried as he noticed the remaining claws were no longer as sharp or as hard as they had been. Then there was his other problem. His ears had been burning lately and he began to notice that he couldn’t hear as well as he used to. His body was altering, and he wasn’t sure why it was happening.

Time continued to pass, and soon snow had begun to cover the ground again, when Rock realized something was wrong. Calvin hadn’t been to his cave in over a week. Not only that, but for the first time in his life, he felt the cold. Rock dried out the skins from the animals he had killed and instead of using them for his nest, he fashioned them into clothing to wear to keep warm.

When evening finally fell, Rock made his way toward the castle where Calvin had last vanished. Eventually, he came upon a farm on the outer reaches of a town. Just beyond it lay the houses outside the castle gates, so he knew he had reached the area Calvin often talked about and began his search.

While his nails, hearing, and skin had changed, his sense of smell and his night vision remained as acute as ever. He had found the farmhouse where Calvin once lived. The smell of Calvin had been faint and he stayed listening as the voice of Calvin’s father let him know Calvin wasn’t there. He’d stayed just outside the farmhouse listening and watching as the man raged inside.

“Damn boy. Managed to get up in the world.” The man smashed something to the ground. “Did he worry about his poor father? No! Should have been paid for that useless son of mine. Lucky little bastard gets to live up there.”

Rock now knew that Calvin had moved up to the town near the castle. He moved quickly down the dark dirt path and began his search of each home. It seemed to be an impossible task, but he checked each house and window, smelling his way and checking inside for Calvin. As he finished the last home, he realized that left only the castle itself to search. Rock was nervous about this. He was a troll, and no troll in his right mind went looking to enter an area where they could be bound and left for the sun to turn them to stone.

“Damn boy has gotten to me. I need to know he is okay.”

Rock slid up to the castle gates. There were guards everywhere, and he couldn’t see a way to slip in. Worse, as he neared the gate he caught a whiff of Calvin’s scent. The boy was somewhere within the stone keep.

Rock walked slowly around the outside of the castle. Finding the darkest spot he could, he began to use his claws to help him climb the wall. As he did, another of his nails broke and shattered. It hurt, but he found he was more concerned over what might be happening to Calvin.

By the time he had reached the top of the wall he had lost three more nails. He looked into the darkened courtyard and saw small homes here as well. There were also quarters inside the walls guarding the castle. Rock moved slowly and quietly as he made his way down the inside of the garrison walls. He barely managed to slip past two men who were heading into bed. He listened as they climbed into their beds. Once all was silent again he pushed on, still trying to pick up Calvin’s scent.

He had made his way out into the courtyard and was nearly caught by one of the maids, who was busy talking with a guard.

“It’s true. He’s due to marry her next week, but the whole castle knows he’s taken that boy.”

“No, he can’t be. He’s a god fearing man. Why would he want some boy from the village?”

“Seems the boy stopped a wolf from getting him.” The maid paused and took a breath. She leaned back and nearly fell onto the barrel Rock was hiding behind.

“Careful, Mary.”

“Just lost my footing is all. Anyway, the boy saved him, and ever since, he has been taking care of him. Got the boy better clothing, and then he moved the boy here this week.” Mary smiled and dropped her voice as she spoke. “He’s probably in bed with him now.”

“His Majesty would never allow that!”

“The king and his brothers don’t know. Well, they know the boy saved him, but not that he is being used that way.”

“You palace maids get all the good scuttlebutt. “

Mary winked.

“So what’s the boy’s name?”

“Well none of us has talked to him, but he’s been called Kevin or Calvin or something like that.”

“Must be that small guy. He was given one of the small rooms inside the castle. I know Lord Darius was upset that some commoner was given space, even if it was down near the bowels of the kitchens.”

“Well, the room is right by the servant staircase to the royal quarters.”

The guard and Mary began to move off then, and Rock didn’t get to hear the rest.

Could the boy be Calvin?

Rock found a door way and slipped inside. It was getting to be very late, and no one was around for most had now gone to bed. He found the kitchen by scent alone. Then, after remembering what the maid had said, worked his way around the kitchen, until he found a small hall that led to a single room. The door to the room was unlocked, and Rock soon found himself surrounded by Calvin’s scent.

“Where are you?” Rock quickly made a tour of the room, moving as silently as possible, but the room was empty. Having no choice, he slipped out, and only then noticed the faint trail of Calvin’s scent as it moved up a small staircase.

Rock glanced at the hallway that led to Calvin’s room, then toward where the doorway was that would allow him back into the courtyard and his way out. Slowly he shook his head, lifted his nose, and followed the scent upwards.

As he reached the upper levels, he noticed a few things. Here, there were skins and cloth that covered the walls. The floors were smoother and there were torches set to give light. He also had to move carefully to avoid guards that wandered the hallways. He’d barely had time to hide behind a large stuffed bear when a young woman and man raced into one of the rooms and closed the door, giggling. He was about to give up when the overpowering scent of Calvin seemed to finally stop behind one of the doors. The door wouldn’t open to his touch. He felt along it and couldn’t see why until he noticed the lock. He tried not to growl as he slipped one of his few remaining claws into the lock and broke it open almost silently.

Rock slipped into the room and closed the door behind. The room was dark except for what little light came through the window. Rock’s nose found Calvin’s scent everywhere in the room and it seemed most concentrated in the nest in the middle of the room. The nest wasn’t like his. Here, wood beams lifted it off the floor and it was large and square in shape. Under material he was unfamiliar with, he finally found Calvin and another. Calvin was entwined with the other man.

Rock found a part of himself hurt as it never had before. He wasn’t sure why his chest hurt, but finding Calvin didn’t ease the pain he had been suffering. If anything, finding him as he did made it increase.

Rock stood for a moment watching the two sleep in each other’s arms. He dropped his head as he headed for the door and noticed water on his hand. Reaching up he found his cheeks were wet but there was no way it could rain inside. As he made his way back down to the kitchen he tripped and fell. He felt a sharp pain in his hand, looked down, and saw the last of his claws had shattered. He no longer had his most fierce weapon to protect him.

Rock made his way to the front gate, but none of the guards attempted to stop him as he left the castle. He made his way back to Calvin’s farm and climbed into the loft. He collapsed as the first rays of the sun rose in the sky.

It was late afternoon when he woke to shouts below him.

“Have you seen the monster? The troll was in the castle last night. He broke into the prince’s room.”

“So what has that to do with me?”

Rock recognized the voice of Calvin’s father and carefully crawled to the edge of the loft to see below.

“Wasn’t your son involved in saving the prince?” A guard stood with a long sword at his side pointing angrily at the older man.

“Yes.” He sneered and then leaned in. “Why? Was Calvin killed?” A wicked smile graced his humorless face.

The guard looked disgusted.

“You have no sense of what could have happened, do you? We have found the troll’s home but it is empty. We have no idea why it broke into the castle. We found its broken claws everywhere. “

Calvin’s father just stood there.

“I’ll inform the King of your … obvious concern.”

The guard walked out as Calvin’s father made a rude gesture.

They have been through my home. They wait for me. I’m doomed.

Rock watched as Calvin’s father left the feed where it was and walked out of the barn.

“I’m of no use now. I have no home and my claws are no more.” Rock lifted his hands and looked at the small flat nails he now had. No longer the super sharp claws of a predator but instead the flat smooth nails of human. Again he felt tears on his cheeks.

He climbed down and saw the sun shone brightly through the open doorway of the barn. Rock took a breath and then ran into the bright sunlight, his arm raised to prevent him from seeing his doom clearly, and after a few moments, he stopped.

Why haven’t I turned to stone?

“Who are you, and why are you in my barn?” Rock turned to find Calvin’s father stomping angrily toward him.

“Rock.”

“Rock? What sort of name is Rock? Why are you here?”

Rock dropped his arm and looked for the first time clearly at Calvin’s father. The man was older, with dark blond hair going grey. There were deep wrinkles in his face, and his eyes were the cold grey of stone, not the soft green eyes that Calvin had. This was the man that beat Calvin, hurt him, and had even tossed an unconscious Calvin over the side of his bridge so long ago.

“I came to say goodbye to Calvin, but he isn’t here, is he?”

Calvin’s father crossed his arms and stared.

“Nevermind.” Rock had so much that had happened to him. His ears burned, and as he reached up to scratch, a large part of it flaked off in his hand. He pulled the skins up over his head, fashioning a hood to help hide his ears and face, and made his way toward the gate.

“You’re an ugly beast of a man. Rock suits you.”

Rock just kept walking. He wasn’t a troll any longer. He didn’t turn to stone, he could cry, and his weapons were gone. The time he had spent with Calvin had changed him. Perhaps it had changed Calvin, too, but now Rock had to figure out what he was going to do. As he made his way back toward his bridge, he found knights and guards everywhere near the bridge. He couldn’t go home. Instead, Rock crossed the bridge and kept moving.

Once upon a time a troll found a nice warm bridge to live under. Time came when he made the mistake of taking care of a human. The human used his magic to change the troll, but he never bothered to tell the troll what his new life would be like. Eventually the troll became a human, and had to find out how to survive without the weapons and the protection he had as a troll. Once upon a time, a new man had to discover how to live his life without the one person who had changed him.