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Trouble with Trolls.
Pt One 

little troll for story.png

The sound of loud rumbling from the snug was my cue to get moving. A quick peek into the room confirmed what I suspected—Daddy lay spread out on the large sofa, head thrown back, his snores filling the room. Callum’s no less window-rattling snoring came from the other side of the snug, where he was sprawled in an untidy tangle of limbs on Grandad's recliner. 

“They didn't even make it till midnight. I don’t want to know how you wore Simon out.” I jumped when I heard Mouse's voice, and tried not to squeak too loudly and give us away.

“Shit, Mouse, give a guy some warning.” I gave the room another furtive glance to assure myself that Daddy and Callum hadn't woken up.

“Come on, we need to get a move on if we want to get up there and back before these two old farts wake up.” Mouse held up his hand. He'd grabbed a backpack from somewhere and it seemed rather full.

“What have you got in there?” I went to peek inside but Mouse pulled the bag away, grinning.

“Fun stuff. Come on. I put the torch by the back door. Let's get a move on.” I couldn't resist dashing in and pressing a soft kiss to Daddy’s brow. He mumbled and blew out loudly through his lips, and I had to smother another laugh. Mouse rolled his eyes, but I caught the fond expression that flitted across his face when he looked over at us.

I couldn't believe we were doing this. What had started as a whisper-giggled conversation over dinner, spurred on by more Glogg than we really should have drunk, had led to us deciding we were going to climb the hill and see the Troll Rocks.

I followed Mouse through to the mud room, and we both tried to keep quiet while pulling our boots and heavy jackets on.

Neither of us spoke until we had gotten outside past the main gate, and were making for the rough gravel path that led up to Troll Hill.

The moon was hidden by thick clouds, so the path was only lit by the beam of our solitary torch. It was spooky and fun and I found myself grinning and giggling. Mouse's muffled laugh echoed my humor at the situation.

“There is no such thing as Trolls, right?” I whispered, not out of fear of being caught, but because the hush of the night seemed to call for soft voices.

Mouse turned from walking the path to grin at me, his dark hazel eyes dancing in the torchlight. “You know they’re not real, and I know they’re not real. But do the Trolls know they aren't real? That, my fine curly haired friend, is the real question.”

 

An owl hooted somewhere off in the woods as I gaped at Mouse's ludicrous answer. “Dude, that is not fucking reassuring in the slightest.”

Mouse shrugged, the overlarge jacket he wore bunching up around him as he did. “We’ll be fine. Though, we probably should have brought Ragnar with us as some sort of security.”

“Ragnar the personal protection Ram.” I chuckled at the thought.

“Yeah. The problem is, he only beats up one person. I thought Sy was going to lose his nuts for sure the last time Rags headbutted him.”

I pursed my lips and shook my head. “I’d rather Simon's nuts be safe, thank you very much.”

Mouse made a gagging sound as he walked ahead of me. “Gross.”

“Bet you wouldn't say that if it were Cal’s nuts on the line.” I smirked as Mouse made a muttered choking sound in front of me.

 

###

 

The climb was steep and the path was covered for the most part in fresh snow, but we made it to the top of the hill quicker than I was expecting. The shrubs and small trees that had dotted the path gave way to a sloping open field. To one end stood the two massive rock formations that we’d come to see. As if mother nature wanted to set the scene, the first full moon of the New Year broke through the clouds and bathed the two rock piles in silvery light. 

They were huge; the upper part of the rocks were weathered in such a way that it lent to them having the unmistakable shape of a face. Bulging protrusions looked like bulbous noses and seams of quartz glittered like malevolent eyes.

Mouse stopped in front of the largest of the stone formations and set the backpack on a relatively snow free square of ground. He dropped down onto his bum and motioned for me to join him.

“Please tell me you’ve got something warm to drink in there?” I clapped my mittened hands against my arms, trying to warm up.

Mouse opened the back pack with a flourish and pulled out two small thermoses. “Fresh hot chocolate. No marshmallows, though. Dad went and hid them.” 

“Well that would be because you ate a full bag of them before dinner.” I took the thermos from Mouse. 

I plonked down on the cold ground next to him and watched as he dug around in the pack producing a cloth wrapped parcel.

“Cookies?” I asked hopefully.

“Not this time, but I did make us some roast beef sandwiches with Dad’s chutney.” I grabbed one of the wax paper wrapped sandwiches and hastily unwrapped it. I was a growing lad after all, and roast beef sandwiches were the food of the gods.

Chewing thoughtfully on my sandwich I looked at the two large trolls. “They really do look like they could come to life at any minute.” Mouse followed my gaze and nodded, his long hair bouncing out of his hair tie. “Right? They look like at any moment they could stand up and start having a rock fight, or stomp down to the farm and cause some trouble.” Mouse reached up and patted the stone he leaned against. “I grew up with tales of trolls and Nisse. Dad always had some story or another. Is it any wonder I grew up thinking these guys were actually trolls?’

Shaking my head, I looked over at the other troll. My overactive imagination made it feel like it was looking back at me, waiting for the right time to pounce and crunch my bones. It gave me a wonderful fright—it was exhilarating, like riding a rollercoaster or watching a scary movie.

 I chewed my sandwich faster and finished my hot chocolate, eager to look around a bit more. We shoved the thermos and wax paper back into Mouse's pack and stood, brushing the dirt and snow off our bums.

“Wanna go check out the other one? He's the largest and scariest looking.” Mouse pointed over to the one I had been watching.

I looked over at it again as the breeze started to pick up, and for just a moment I imagined the rocks subtly shifting. Mouse saw my expression, moving closer until our shoulders were brushing against each other. 

“Did you see that?” I kept my voice low, not taking my eyes off the rocks in front of me.

“If you mean did I see a pile of rocks move, yeah I did.” Mouse's voice quavered.

“Maybe it was just a stoat moving around it, or even a rabbit,” I suggested, still not daring to take my eyes off the rocks.

‘Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. We’re just scaring ourselves. Silly, innit, two grown men afraid of a pile of rocks.” But Mouse didn't sound very sure at all.

“Okay, let's do this. A quick look at that lump of rock, and then we head back down before Simon and Callum wonder where the hell we’ve gotten to,” I suggested, straightening up and trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Mouse's long fingers linked with mine as we took a step towards the rocks. The breeze seemed to die down as if it was holding its breath. 

And then we heard it. 

The sound of rocks falling and grinding. A low long bellow seemed to come from the troll rock in front of us, and another from the one we’d just walked away from.

“Oh, fuck!”

Oh fuck was right. I tugged on Mouse's hand and started back towards the path we’d come up. “I’m no hero, Mouse, and you're no knight.”

Mouse dug his heels in and stopped. “My backpack!” As he spoke another loud bellow came from the rocks

“We’ll send Daddy up to get it tomorrow.” I grabbed at Mouse's hand, pulling him along with me.

“Fine. At least the old grouch can’t paddle my arse. but yours is going to be glowing tomorrow.”

Even in my terror, I still managed to giggle “You say it like it's a bad thing.” Another bellow closer caused me to scream, Mouse echoing the sound as we tore down the slope towards the farm.


 

###

 

Simon 

 

Dusting gravel off my legs I moved from behind the rocks, grinning when I saw Cal step out from behind the other troll rock. “They are going to give us hell when they find out it was us.” Callum grinned ear to ear.

I smiled fondly, watching the boys disappear down the path. “Yup. Totally worth it. Happy New Year, Cal.”

“You too, Sy.” Callum flung an arm over my shoulder, stifling a laugh “I can still hear ‘em. I’m honestly shocked we got up here in time.”

I watched my breath steam in the air as I barked out a laugh. “Mouse never noticed that old goat track leading up here. He always stuck to the main path when he came up here as a kid. The trail we took was one I used to take when me and the lads came up to smoke and stuff and didn't want Da noticing us.”

“Jesus, I thought you’d given the game away when you fell over that tree stump. God knows how you didn't see it. Got to start wondering if you need your eyes checked.” Callum grinned, enjoying himself.

“Hmm. You know, you probably don’t want to start teasing me about not seeing what's right in front of me, considering.” I rubbed my knee. There was going to be a bruise come morning, that was for sure.

Callum narrowed his eyes for a moment as he tried to work out what he’d missed. “Sometimes I worry about you, Sy.”

“Me too, mate. Come on, let's head down. We’ve given them enough of a head start. They should be at least halfway down by now.”

Callum reached down, grabbing Mouse’s backpack “Are we following them down or taking the goat track?”

I smirked as an evil idea popped into my head. Rhys would probably read me the riot act if he ever found out, but damn, it would be worth it. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell them it was us. Just leave Mouse's pack by the back door and make a couple of Troll sized footprints around it. If we take the goat track, we'll be home before them for sure.”

Callum smiled, showing off his teeth. “You are an evil, evil man. Let's give them time to hide inside, then head down.”


 

To Be continued…

"I’d never had a relationship, kinky or otherwise, but I knew my heart. I knew how I felt when I was around Simon. He made me feel calm and in control, even when I handed over that control to him. I trusted him.”

—Rhys---Viking Ink

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