(Warning: Still referencing self harm and pills, cringy content, dubious consent)

[Previously: I cover my neck and press deeper into the spy who makes a noise welcoming and content. I don’t notice the silent exchange between the spy and the chief concern and jealousy but then a knowing wink and the chief being kept up for a while in confusion. Once he realized it though he couldn’t wait to test it out. “Later.” He tells himself. “Later and the wait will make it so much more worth it.”]

“Awake?” He rubs my back, squishing me up further against his body with each stroke. “Do you need something?” He asks sleepily. I’m not sure if I should pretend I’m asleep again. He’s nicer to me when I’m not awake. I hear him shift and then he grabs something from the desk. “How’s your throat? Has your voice come back yet?” I don’t know why I panic but I close my eyes and pretend I’m asleep. Even when he questions me and shakes me a little bit. I didn’t want to face anything that happened yesterday right now, especially as I’m sure the spy has left.

The chief tilts back my head and suddenly in a complete change of behavior presses my lips in a kiss. I gasp and pull away but immediately regret it wanting more as my mouth tingles and I feel warm all over. ‘Stop it,’ I tell myself, ‘I need to establish boundaries with him first.’

“Did that make you feel better?” The chief says, his tone is soft and curious, not something I’d expect from him. I mean maybe I don’t actually know everything there is to him? I don’t feel like responding but the sound of blanket movement and what I assume is him reaching out to grab me by my neck makes me flinch away aggressively, “No.” I respond quickly, voice working but sounding and feeling like I could lose it again. I need to be careful especially when I’m alone with him without the spy to mediate.

“Then why even kiss back?”

“I…uh thats…I didn’t realize I kissed back?” I question myself horsley. He sounds closer so I draw my arms and legs back in towards myself. 

“Why are you cowering?” He asks and I feel like it's a trick question.

“I’m scared.” I say finally. He huffs and I try to think what I’ll do if he decides I’m no longer fun, I mean I figure that’s why he’s been such a brute with me. If he finds me…boring, if he abandons me, how will I survive? He probably won’t let the spy keep me either. I tighten my fingers on my arms and bite my lip. “Because I’m surprisingly easy to break.” I laugh darkly in a hoarser whisper than before. I feel him lean away. I think about the spy and my cheeks flush, 'Not another crush oh god what am I going to do with my stupid horney self?' 

He lifts my head and I start, I didn’t notice him move, how’d he already get this close?!

“Drink,” he orders and presses something against my mouth.

I let it spill, not sure what it was at first before realizing its water and gratefully chug some of it.

“You’re messy.” He wipes my mouth with his thumb.

I wince a little and he suddenly presses down on my bottom lip noticing something, “Stop biting yourself.”

I look away since he won't let go.  He leans in closer and I feel my breath shudder expecting another kiss.

“I said stop self harming.” He growls. I close my eyes tightly and nod. 

“Good, the only time I want you hurt is when I'm the one doing it.” He leans back now holding my jaw tightly. I swallow.

'What does he mean by that… is he going to harm me? Right now?!’ My heart slams against my ribcage and I’m suddenly aware of how long I’ve been without my pills again. He takes a sharp breath as though suddenly realizing he messed up, suddenly holding me tightly, shushing me. 

“I don’t do it on purpose.” I say softly. 

He looks at my arms and says, “Is that why you’re covered in marks?” In a much softer, now curious tone. I wince at the hint of distaste. I look at where my arms are remembering having just dug my nails in it. 'Surely I didn’t do it that often.' 

I avoid looking up as I wait for him to say or do something else. He gently brushes my arm skin. 

The feeling of his breath causes happy tremors when he lowers his head to look at them closer. Suddenly I remember his horns. I want to touch them with an urge not unlike someone addicted to something and slowly I feel my lips mumble the words as I reach out my other hand. He makes a grunt of consent and I feel him pull the arm still in his grip towards him. The next second I feel the hard curving surface. I forget my fear for a second and reach out with my other hand, smoothing the length and tracing fingertips against his horns. I couldn’t reach the tip unless I stood. 'He’s breathing kind of weird, is he…turned on?!' 

I remember myself and hurriedly yank my arms back. He makes an irritated grunt and shoves me backwards away from him. I gasp and turn my body to the side, not sure whether or not to expect further violence. But then he gets up and walks away. I tremble for a second and let out a gasp of relief sinking down deeper into the bed.

‘I can finally relax.’ I suddenly realize in relief. I rub my legs against the soft blanket enjoying the sensation and trust my ears to tell me when he comes back.

If he comes back. It’s been at least an hour. I close my eyes and calmly stare up at the ceiling of the tent. I should probably get out of bed, eat something and use the bathroom. I don’t really have any real urge to get up but I’m starting to think the Chief isn’t coming back. Guess I insulted him again. Maybe I should ask what their horns mean to them? I groan getting up to use the bathroom. After relieving myself I consider working out. It's been so long since I’ve felt like my body was in shape.

“What are you doing?!” Someone bursts through the curtains.

I jump at the accusation, ‘I’m just standing here?’

“You’re staying in bed until that ankle finally heals.” San says. 

I gasp as I suddenly recognize him, excitedly exclaiming, “San!” I hold out my arms for him to come closer, grabbing his forearms. I drill him for answers, “What happened after the trial and while you were under house arrest? They didn’t hurt you right, you’re okay?” 

“My parents were pissed but they’re just relieved now. I’m not going to be able to sneak off for a while.The chief put me on the worst chores for like a whole cycle. They’re watching me like I’ll try to climb to the surface next.” Something in his voice changes but I just laugh despite the fact we almost did just that. 

“Are your…horns okay?” I ask and he lets out an embarrassed laugh and leans down so I can feel them. When I make sure they’re still there I close my eyes, “What about Kal?”

“He’s still in trouble but that’s more because of his parents than anything else.” I sigh relieved and fall back against the bed looking up into the darkness. The bed shifts as the troll looks down at me.

“I have a few questions if you feel up to answering them.”

I’m starting to feel ill from the pain but nod anyway. “Shoot.”

“Shoot?” He repeats confusedly then asks me, “You decided to stay even though you care about the other two humans Sarah and Kris?” I know my face scrunches up from the accusatory question. I sit up holding my head.

“Yeah I’m worried about being killed by my stepmother.” I emphasize and shudder from the memory. 

“I don’t understand why would your mother want to kill you?” He breathes in horror coming closer. "Is it because you were chosen to be a sacrifice?" I cringe from the lie apparently that hadn't been fully cleared up.

“I was never actually a sacrifice." I breathe wondering if the sharp noise he made is the feeling of betrayal, "I came up with it as a stupid bluff. I just didn't want," My voice breaks and I have to choke out, "to get anyone else killed."

San is quite I can almost feel him struggling with whether or not he should keep trusting me, "B, but if you weren't a sacrifice then why...why were you thrown?" I can hear from his voice that the sight of my mutilated body had actually left quite a mental mark.

"She’s not my birth mother, my dad married her after my real mother…passed away." I rub my head in discomfort and ask, “Is there any pain medicine I can take?” 

“Oh! Yeah! Actually I was supposed to make you something to drink.” He gets up quickly and makes some noise a little away where I smell a fire start. Another minute he’s asking me, “But what about your dad, he’d protect you right?”

I furrow my eyebrows and legitimately wonder whether or not he’d side with me. Part of me remembers him being a good dad and doing everything he can for me but the other part remembers the darker days when he couldn’t even face me. Leaving me alone for days in bed. I shake my head violently to scatter the memories forcing myself to forget them.

“He was grieving too.” I say out loud.

“What?” San asks and then goes quiet. I listen but other than the sounds of water being poured in metal and the fire heating it up I can’t tell what he’s doing. I’m content not asking. Despite scattering the memories of my slow recovery from my blindness I remember having to use the bathroom so badly that I forced myself to get up and do my best to go by myself. It was the first time I walked completely alone in the new permanent darkness. Even when I used to get up in the middle of the night there was the comforting glow of light from the windows, now there was nothing.

I followed the wall until I passed one, two doorways and then reached out for the other side of the hallway. But the bathroom door had been left open so I walked in without realizing. The gut wrenching feeling of walking further than I should have been able to. I was lost. I had no idea where I was. I called for my dad knowing he’s somewhere in ear shot. 'He didn’t come. I used to tell myself that he abandoned me to force me to learn how to function with my blindness,' but now I wonder, ‘was he actually mad at me. Did he really blame me as well?’

The sound of boiling water brings me back to my senses. San has been quiet this whole time.

“Are you still there?” I ask weakly. 

“Uh yeah.” He says “I didn't want to bother you while you were lost in your thoughts.” 

I look away from him and then softly say, “Yeah I think he’d choose her over me.” My body aches with a sadness I hadn’t processed yet, I never ever considered that with the death of my mom I’d lost my dad as well. The smell of the chief brings me a little comfort as I pull his pillow into me, breathing it in. I remember him getting upset and leaving again, 'I should just ask him, why? I know but I also know words are hard for me sometimes. Especially if I feel like there will be an argument.' I feel a twinge when I remember the spy, 'he seems to have a very close relationship with the chief maybe I could ask him!'

“Are you tired?” San asks and I nod. “Drink this before you sleep, it’ll help.” He stands awkwardly for a second. “Guess the stories about humans being monsters are true.”

“We’re not supposed to be.” I sigh. “I mean it's in the word we're supposed to be humane. I meant it when I said that I’d help a wounded troll if our positions were switched.” I think about how that’d go, “I’d probably ask for some help, just like you did.” 

“Kal and I have been friends for a very long time.” He agrees and then softly with a tint of sadness continues with, “His family though, are in charge of more responsibilities than mine. I knew they’d punish him severely for having anything to do with you but I still asked him to help me…sometimes I wonder if I am a bad friend.”

“You’re not.” I mumble, never releasing the pillow, “Because you sent him away to do what was right or follow the rules once you realized he was in danger.” San is quiet, and I suddenly have a sense that there’s something he feels guilty about.

I would know since I’ve had a long time to get used to the heavy company of guilt. It really makes you choke on your words threatening to reveal your dark secrets while you still cling to the insolence of others as long as you stay silent. ‘What did he do?’  

“San?” I ask and he lets out a shuddering breath making his voice falsely positive, “It’s nothing you’re right, drink your tea.” I reach for it and then feel the warmth from the steam on my face blow on it for a while not wanting to burn my tongue. 

“Can you keep a secret?” He asks like he’s going to explode.” I nod. “I want to leave.” He says suddenly breathier. 

I tilt my head, “You mean go to the surface?”

“Yes,” he’s hyperventilating, “I’ve wanted to go ever since I was a small kind” He switches to German and I get lost. I lean back a little bit blown away by his excitement as he rambles on in a language I don't understand.

“Are you feeling guilty about liking me because I’m interesting and from up-top when Kal is your best friend, is that it?”

He mumbles something which sounds like an agreement still not switching back to english. Apparently confessing everything to someone who couldn’t understand was helping him feel better.

I smile. 

“I…I’m mad at you too.” He says, sounding so ashamed of himself. I tense. “I was hoping that you’d ask to go back and then I could go with you.” I open my mouth to exclaim he wouldn’t like living where I lived. “Maybe we can still go.” He offers pathetically knowing I’d turn it down, “I’m so sick of being here and being a troll.”

I don’t know much about rebellious teenagers other than media portrations I was a pretty happy, nourished kid before so I try to think about what my mom would say.

“If you run away you’ll never be able to see your family again.” I start. 

“I know where they are. I can return to visit but that’s only if I don’t immediately get killed by humans.” I open and close my mouth, “How about I answer all your questions first, I can tell you all about the human world and you can promise me not to make any rash decisions.” 

“I want to know if there is somewhere up there for someone like me?” he grabs my shoulders and I want to shake my head no but I know that yes, I nod, there are places that would happily accept him as is. He relaxes and I let out a pained smile.

“You’re going to have to learn to be more gentle with humans first.”

He pulls away quickly, “sorry.” 

“Listen,” I say suddenly very seriously, “There are people and places and wonderful things you can experience as a troll without fear of repercussions like being caged or killed but you need a human or someone who knows to be a guide up there.”

“The spies get to go up top,” he mutters as if he assumes that’s where I’m going, “but there are certain places and things not even they know about, that they can’t experience.” I think about it for a second. “Well I don’t think I can physically stop you so I better make sure you are completely prepared before you go, so that you are safe.” 

“Will you be my guide?” I look away ashamed and take a sip of the tea. It’s a lovely mixture of barely drinkable but instantly effective medicine.