Queen of the Trolls

By David Anthony Brown

Ashilda the witch looks forward to only one thing at night. The one thing that gives her happiness and joy… Idona, her best friend and secret lover.

But for Idona, her children always come first before true love.

Soon, both women must face their fears when entangled in the lair of the Queen of the Trolls.

If you enjoy Scandinavian inspired fantasy with a lesbian romance, be sure to read this one.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hermit Muse Publishing
• Release date: Jan 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781386778318

Book preview

1

Ashilda put the candle to her nose. Perfect. Idona was going to love it. The candle smelled of home: sage, rose petals, and a faint mixture of herbs that she would never guess at. Ashilda picked up her hairbrush and sat at her table. All of her tools were on the table—mortar, pestle, glass beakers, clay jars. Everything a witch woman needed.

Everything but the obvious. Ashilda would have to clear the table before putting Idona on it. Maybe that was going to be their next get together.

She brushed her still wet hair, thinking about the night and what was about to happen. The days were getting warmer and longer. The small rock ledge they found the last week was perfect. It was in a part of the woods neither had seen before. A small outcrop of rock at the bottom of a drop off. Ashilda imagined sitting at the top of the drop off to watch the sunset with Idona. After that they were going to make a small fire under the ledge, drink the mead Ashilda brewed earlier in the winter, and… Well, things always progressed from that point on in unique and interesting ways. Ashilda never knew what Idona had in mind on any particular night.

The brush caught on a tangle and pulled her hair in an awkward jerk. Ouch. Ashilda gently brushed the tangle, to little effect at first. She thought she was about to rip her scalp off, the tangle was so difficult.

And the tangle reminded her of one hitch to her day dream. Ashilda was never going to watch a sunset with Idona. Her lover always tucked her children in bed and told them a story during sunset. She never failed her children. Ashilda was jealous of the youngsters; they got to see their mother at the most beautiful time of day.

Ashilda coaxed the tangle out, little by little. It came out, but not without pulling a few hairs out with it. She put the brush down and ran her fingers though her hair. Satisfied she stood up. The room was chilly, despite how moderate the day was. It was a fine spring day, and even the drafts were pale in comparison to the cold winter nights that weren’t so far behind.

She climbed the ladder to her upstairs bedroom. The small room was just big enough for a bed and a rough wardrobe. Ashilda opened the wardrobe and pulled out a skirt and tunic; both garments were sewn by Idona during the winter. The fabric was rough and sturdy, but soft underneath. Ashilda smiled to herself as she put on the clothes. Anything Idona touched was blessed in that way. Ashilda longed for her gentle touch and her hot whispers in her ear.

She quickly got dressed and went out the door. The dirt streets were neatly tended to and people were out and about doing their last minute bartering for the day. Ashilda carried with her a jug of mead, some tinder, and a flint. That was all she needed, except for the most important piece: Idona. Ashilda would wait for her in the woods. It was to be soon, but she could hardly wait for nightfall.

Ashilda, wait. A voice called behind her.

She turned around. It was Nels, the local skald and notorious trickster. Ashilda averted the urge to roll her eyes. What do you want?

Nels held his hand to his chest, as if in pain. I have this terrible pain in my hand. I was hoping you do something for me.

Come to my hut in the morning, I’ll have something for you then.

Aren’t you even going to look at my hand? He looked at her anxiously, as if he expected a hug of sympathy or a simple smile.

She gave him neither. Here. Ashilda took his hand and pretended to examine it. She turned his arm over, rather roughly and with as much force as she had without making it look like she was hurting him. He winced in pain, but without a lot of expression. Ashilda ignored him and said good day. She walked away down the dirt road, past the huts and shops.

Ashilda walked through the open unplowed fields and waved at the farmers. The gritty men raised their caps to her, out of respect for her position in the village, and went back to their work. They would likely be there a few more hours, preparing the ground for the crops and feeding their animals. Ashilda continued past them without any more ado.

She came to the edge of the forest and followed the game trail into it. The trees were huge and ancient; the woods had a primal feel that was timeless. Every time she went in the forest, Ashilda felt overawed and small in comparison to the world. That was why she often chose to take Idona to the woods. The feelings the woods evoked for her added to the joy Idona evoked. The sensations that ran in Ashilda’s mind and body were distracting, but not unwelcome. It had been a long time since she had been with Idona in the woods, since the winter was a brutal and unforgiving time to have sex in the forest.

She made her way down the path, picking colorful flowers as she went. Ashilda picked purple, because that was the color she dreamed of Idona wearing. She picked yellow to match Idona’s hair color, and green to match her eyes. Making the bouquet took her mind off of thinking about later, and obsessing over what she couldn’t have. Ashilda, in a way, enjoyed the anxiety, the heady rush of feelings that would be fulfilled only by being in Idona’s arms. But she in place of release, she looked for a way to make the time go faster. Picking flowers was exactly what she did every time to make time go faster. And it forced her to think of ways to make Idona happy. A sort of vicious circle of emotions, but it felt so good.

Ashilda came to the clearing before too long, deep in the forest. The birds sang a jolly spring time tune and all around were beautiful blossoms and fruit. The scenery was perfect for a night of passionate love and wild sex. Ashilda set the bouquet under the ledge and went back into the woods to collect firewood.

Once she had enough wood, she piled it low and waited for the night to come. The sun was setting rapidly. Idona would be there soon, but not soon enough to whet Ashilda’s appetite. They didn’t get to be together enough. Even when they tried for once a week, it wasn’t enough. Ashilda wanted it every day, only a handful of times before had she felt this way about another person. Her late husband never made her feel so passionate, nor had any of her sweethearts of her younger days.

Sundown came and went. Ashilda lit the firewood with her flint and tinder. Soon Idona would be there, and Ashilda couldn’t wait. She sat by the fire, the blaze warming her body, a prelude of sorts to the warmth Idona brought with her.

Before she knew it, she spotted a torch along the game trail. Idona walked up to the camp, with a wide smile on her face. Greetings, dear one.

Ashilda smiled, and opened her arms wide. Greetings to you too.

Idona knelt down and put her head on Ashilda’s shoulder, and wrapped her arms around her. Ashilda hugged her back, and rubbed her hand gently up and down her back. She put a kiss on the back of her hair, which was freshly washed and smelled of oil. When they released each other, Ashilda held Idona’s eye contact and stroked her cheek.

Idona sat down and opened up the sack she carried. She brought out fresh apples and cut them with a small knife. I was afraid I was being followed on the way. I kept hearing footsteps and twigs breaking.

You’ve always been afraid of the forest, said Ashilda. That’s one of your more endearing qualities. Besides being untimely late and utterly beautiful.

Idona smiled again, this time wider. Her lips were full and delicious. You’ve brought me out here enough. I think I know better by now.

Liar. You’re always the one who has to lie nearest to the tree or hill. Not like that would stop a troll from getting you. Ashilda winked. Idona had truly gotten better about being in the woods late at night, but she never went to sleep unless Ashilda held her close. Not that Ashilda minded at all.

It wasn’t that. It really sounded like someone was following. That’s why I’m late. Really. Idona’s eyes were wide and her face earnest. Ashilda told her she believed her. Idona never lied to her anyway; she had nothing to worry about.

Idona continued, I kept stopping along the way, looking behind me, and such. But I saw no one. So I guess it was my imagination after all.

Ashilda put an arm around Idona. You have a wicked imagination. I know that much from experience. Her hand slipped down to Idona’s waist, to her hip. Not that I mind sharing in your imaginings.

Idona giggled. For an older woman with three children, Idona still knew how to giggle like a maiden. Ashilda always enjoyed her laughter, her giggles, and her snorts. Those were just some of the cute qualities Ashilda enjoyed. Those were some of the better things about Idona that rarely came out around others—usually around Ashilda or Idona’s children.

Ashilda took a bite of apple and looked into Idona’s eyes. They were crisp as the apple, bright in the firelight, and warm to Ashilda’s soul. Idona leaned near Ashilda’s ear as if to whisper something, and placed a tiny kiss on her ear lobe. Ashilda put her hand on the back of Idona’s neck and pulled her back when she started pulling away.

Two small sized rocks fell over the ledge. What was that? Idona looked up in fright, as if she could see through the ledge.

Ashilda gripped her shoulder. Don’t worry, she whispered, it’s probably nothing.

But something made those rocks fall, Idona said, clinging to Ashilda like a scared child. Ashilda smoothed her hair. Idona looked around the campsite. Maybe it was a wild animal? Or an accident waiting to happen?

Probably so. Ashilda got to her feet. No point in being silly about it.

Ashilda went outside the ledge and looked up. Idona came over too, and shook her head that she saw nothing. Ashilda climbed up the hill halfway, but in the darkness it was hard to see. An owl hooted not far away, and crickets chirped. But there was surprisingly little else going on above the ledge. Ashilda came back down. It really was nothing.

See, what did I tell you? Idona winked at her.

Brave talk for one who swore never to sleep in the forest at one time.

Idona’s mouth gaped, and she sighed. Sometimes people change. Usually for the better. Her mouth curved into a grin. And someone I know was afraid to explore my curves at one time. Talk about brave talk.

Well, I guess it is true that people change. Perhaps you want to see how much I’ve changed. Ashilda took her in her arms, and brought her close to her body. I think it’s time I showed you what I’ve been dreaming about for the last week.

One thing at a time, said Idona, I have to show you my dreams too. Idona leaned forward and kissed Ashilda on the mouth. Her hot breath tasted like an apple, her fingers curled into her hair. Ashilda thought about the tangles in her hair earlier. She was going to have tangles before going home in the morning.

Ashilda pulled Idona back to the fire, kissing her on the cheek once along the way. She held Idona’s hands, her warmth flowing into her own hands. Ashilda brought their hands close to her mouth, and kissed her fingers. She glided her kisses up her to her hand, her wrist, her forearm. Idona cupped Ashilda’s chin, and brought her mouth to her for another kiss, this time deeper, more passionate, and much longer.

Ashilda stroked Idona’s hips and released away from her. She took the blanket Idona brought with her, shook it a few times, and spread it out on the ground a few feet away from the fire. She motioned for Idona to come to her as she sat on the blanket.

Idona stood over her, stroking her hair. I love you, Ash.

I love you too, ‘Dona. Ashilda looked into her green eyes, which blazed bright in the firelight. She grabbed her by the hands and pulled her down to the blanket. Idona cupped the back of her head and kissed her gently on the corner of her mouth.

Idona unbuttoned Ashilda’s tunic, one button at a time, pausing after each button to smile and coyly wink at Ashilda. Once every button was undone, Idona stroked her fingers around Ashilda’s breasts, playfully avoiding the nipples.

Ashilda stroked Idona’s hair, whispered to her to not stop, to keep going, to touch her breasts. But Idona didn’t obey. Her fingers went to Ashilda’s collarbone, then to the sides of her neck, up her cheeks, around her mouth. Ashilda closed her eyes, and breathed as normally as she could. But her breathing came in ragged pants while Idona worked her fingers on her body, just missing the points that turned her on the most.

Ashilda cupped Idona’s face, and pulled her close for a kiss, but instead whispered how much she wanted her. Idona’s fingers stroked her elbows. I want you too, Ash.

Ashilda unbuttoned Idona’s tunic in the same way Idona undid hers. Slowly, with great care, and just barely missed touching her nipples. When she had Idona’s tunic stripped, she kissed her neck, leaving a trail of kisses down her shoulder, her collarbone. Ashilda stopped just above her right breast, her soft skin just underneath her lips. Idona’s nipples were erect, and stuck out in the cold night air. She cupped Idona’s breasts with both hands, and gently massaged them. Your poor breasts. So cold.

Idona put her hands on top of Ashilda’s, and kissed her neck. The sensation left ripples of chills up and down her spine. She closed her eyes again, savoring every little kiss, no matter how soft and delicate. Each kiss made her shiver in delight, each kiss went a little further south.

Finally Idona reached her left breast with her kisses. She almost felt the next kiss on her nipple, anticipated it. She wanted it, but Idona missed the nipple and continued her kisses on her abdomen. No, please, ‘Dona. My gods…

Idona giggled and kissed her way to the top of her skirt. This is in the way.

We can fix that. Ashilda didn’t wait for Idona to take her skirt off. She unbuttoned it, slide it half way, and let Idona slide the rest of the way off. The rough fabric brushed against skin like a comb, and she awaited Idona’s soft mouth and hands to touch her.

Instead of putting her mouth onto Ashilda’s clitoris, like she wanted, Idona kissed where she left off before taking the skirt off. And planted little kisses up her abdomen, back to her breasts. She left her kisses all the way around her breasts, first one, and then the other. Each kiss was a sweet sensation, and warm touch. Warmth flooded all over her body, her nipples ached. Finally, Idona kissed one, just barely. Ashilda squealed