Page 10 of A Light So Blinding
“Lucky you.”
There was a long pause of silence, and again Bjorn wondered what Rabbit had been doing today. He supposed it wasn’t worth it to ask. Whatever the male had done, it was traumatic enough to wreck his voice and he didn’t likely wish to talk about it again.
Bjorn didn’t like talking, anyway. He’d learned a long time ago that it was foolish to want to hold on to that part of himself. The part that used to talk all the time, to everyone who would listen. He remembered holding conversations for hours on end. He’d talked through feasts that had gone on until the sun came up the next morning, and he had never slowed. Not once.
Shaking his head, he leaned back on the cot, lying down to rest. “Tell me a story, Rabbit.”
This was what they did every evening. The humans did whatever torture they could think of, and then he and Rabbit came back together to relive the lives they once had. Before Ragnar had broken into the labyrinth, Bjorn never would have entertained this. Remembering home in those ten years had been a weakness he could not show. Home was a soft place, a safe place, a hidden spot in his mind that he only visited at his worst.
But now, he wanted to remember. Now he wanted to be assured that he was going to be all right when he finally made it back to Trollveggen.
“Have I ever told you the one about how my sister met her husband?” Rabbit asked.
He had. Countless times.
Bjorn loved the story all the same.
He grunted for the other man to continue, and let himself spiral into a world he barely remembered. A story with a young troll woman, her coloring a lovely deep violet so dark her skin was almost black. And how she had found solace in the arms of a bright turquoise troll, much smaller than her. A lean man who had been kind and soft when she’d needed that.
Rabbit’s sister had been a warrior in a warband that had traveled beyond Trollveggen. He’d never shared where she had gone, or where she’d met her husband, but it must’ve been the same place Bjorn was from. He remembered leaving the mountain for months on end in the summer to see his mother and her people.
His father had been a cruel man. Dag the Destroyer had always been a fighter, and nothing could have prevented him from battle. But his mother had been softer, more afraid. So they had only visited her on the rare occasion, though it had been enough for Bjorn to love that gentle side of her.
The story wove around him like a spell. He could almost see the lands that Rabbit spoke of. The emerald green hills on the other side of Trollveggen. The wild that was so untouched by humans, it was like the only paths to be found were the ones that had been carved by animals. It was hope that allowed him to dream of it again. Hope that someday, he would return to those emerald meadows without fear of what he might bring with him.
The story ended as it always did, startling Bjorn out of his own memories and back into a story of a couple that had lasted forever.
Rabbit always ended with a flourish. “And that bastard loved her until the day I left. I assume he’ll love her until the day he dies.”
“Why call him a bastard?” Bjorn asked, the same as always. But the repetition made both of them feel better.
“Because he loved her so much it was hard to watch,” Rabbit muttered. “She’s my baby sister, and seeing him with her like that... well, it reminded me that she wasn’t a baby anymore.”
Bjorn hummed in agreement.
“You’re talking a lot more than you ever have, by the way. Does that have something to do with those other trolls we met?”
They hadn’t talked about that, but hadn’t really had the chance either. Trolls were meant to be silent here. The less they talked, the better. Bjorn and Rabbit had gotten into the habit of it, but only through the crack in the wall.
A commotion in the hallway caught his attention. Bjorn had no idea how long it had taken Rabbit to tell the story this time. It seemed every time he told it, there were more and more embellishments that turned it into a fantastical tale he was certain was mostly untrue. But a commotion at this time of night? It was unheard of.
Then he could hear words as the guards walked through the halls once more, too late for it to be anything good.
“Prisoners! Behold your newest prize! The fight tomorrow evening will be the greatest you sorry lot have ever seen.” Then a loud clang as a sword met the openings of a window on the door. “Don’t try to touch her, you animal! Tomorrow, if you win, you get to touch her.”
Her?
“Oh no,” Rabbit muttered, and Bjorn heard the sound of him getting up and heading to his door.
Often the warriors were given the opportunity of a woman for their prize for winning in the labyrinth, but no one had ever gotten this much fanfare. Whoever the poor soul was, they were going to be torn apart by whatever man was “lucky” enough to win her.
Bjorn got up as well, curious to see who they had brought in. Usually the women were...
Dark thoughts battered against his mind. So many necks that he’d snapped. So many women he’d held the hands of as they drifted away into that realm where no one else could follow until it was their time. Death dogged his footsteps. Death they begged for, and only he could give it to them without punishment.
Shaking his head to clear those old, guilty thoughts, he headed to the window with the others.
The person in the cell across from him was a man he tried to forget. The human had been caught doing all manner of terrible things, and as such, his punishment was to be in here. Bjorn had heard him bragging about murdering a man who had been living on the streets and made it a point to target him in the labyrinth. Unfortunately, the human was an unreasonably good fighter and a large man who could hold his own against even trolls.
