The Crybaby and the Elf Part 3

Just as clarification, this is not my usual writing style, but I like it for these comedic stories.

The Crybaby and the Elf

(And also a really mean dragon)

Part 3

By

Hannah Williams

The clueless-to-a-good-night’s-sleep elf woke her up with the sun. Somehow she was able to crank her arms and legs to different positions and scrunch down the trunk, landing on the ground with a thump. Stiffly, she stood and followed him back out of the forest. All that morning and afternoon they traveled, and Wailbaby only was ever able to that it was exhausting, no details about what they actually went through.

            However, come 6 o’clock, when nice people were sitting down for a nice dinner, they were struggling up the steep, jagged slopes of the Sharded Crags.

            It so happened that the Princess was wearing the most fashionable shoes. She’d seen a commercial for them, blaring, “ARE YOU A PRETTY PRINCESS WHO’S DEEPLY MISUNDERSTOOD? WE’VE GOT THE PERFECT WAY TO PAMPER YOUR VANITY! THE DAINTY 3” HEELED THREAD-BARE SLIPPERS! GUARENTEED TO PLEASE! Side effects include snobbiness and envious friends.”

            She had ordered them at once.

            Now she was wishing she could sue the stupid company, for her feet were blistering and bleeding. In a matter of moments, the slippers had torn away and she was tottering on bare feet. Ow, ow, oh, ow! She stepped on a particularly sharp rock and dropped down to the ground.

            Sharenth had gained some lead on her up the mountain, but now he turned and saw her curled up on the slope. Instantly, he rushed back down and knelt. “What happened? You okay?”

            She thought about yelling, “No, I’m not all right! I’m bleeding to death!” But she was so cold, she wasn’t sure she even could open her lips, much less yell. And the concern in his eyes was so sincere, her heart gave a funny jerk. “I’m fine,” she whispered.

            He helped her up and stayed by her side to escort her over the difficult parts. At last they reached the peaks of the crags where the wind blew bitter ice into their faces. Wailbaby’s teeth couldn’t stop chattering, despite having both the elf’s cloak and arm wrapped around her. Even he was shivering. Stone, blue with frost, jutted up like teeth all around a small hollow and this hollow was a bed of coal.

            They stood there for several useless seconds. And then—

            “Why do an elf and mortal maid dare enter my abode?” asked a voice, strangely hot in this winter world.

            They both whirled around and saw the phoenix.

            Instead of the red, yellow, and orange of typical fire, this one flickered with the hottest flames of blue, green, purple, and even white to keep itself warm.

            Sharenth saulted with a bow, stiff with cold. “From Darlamvelamcosious.” He swept his scroll out with the same movement and handed it to him.

            Skervarcalcosious was nonplussed. “Do you think I can read like that geeky brother of mine?”

            The elf hesitated, bewilderment and uncertainty flashing across his face. Though Wailbaby’s mind felt like it was slowly freezing, one coherent thought stuck out. “I…I…I can read it,” she stammered.

            Surprised and relieved, Sharenth handed it to her. She dutifully read it, not even comprehending the words or noticing the phoenix’s intimidating, unblinking gaze. When she finished, her breath jerked in an unnatural gait. Was someone saying something? Funny thing, she’d been so cold, but now warmth was beginning to spread through her body and everything was going fuzzy. Then spinning. Then black.
 

            A teapot was cheerfully whistling when princess rolled over on the bed, pulling the blankets around her.

            Wait.

            Teapots? Bed?! Blankets?!! Where was she?

            Her eyes flew open to find herself in a small sod house aglow with a pert little fire in the middle of the room over which hung the teakettle. The walls with lined with books and charming knick-knacks. At the far end was curious round door with one oblong narrow window showing the wuthery outdoors. Across the room, she could see an old woman selecting items out of a pantry.

            Wailbaby first thought was, She sure doesn’t keep with the times. That cotton print is so out of date. But regret for the snobby thought followed immediately after, for she couldn’t deny that there was a certain charm to waking in home very much out of a sweet fairy tale.

            Then the lady turned around.

            The princess almost screamed.

            It wasn’t a human! It was a…a troll!

            “Oh please!” Wailbaby gasped, scrunching away against the wall as the trolless came to her bedside. “Don’t eat me!”

            “Eat you?” The trolless repeated, wrinkling her pig nose. “Oh deah me, no. The nice little elf wouldn’t have left you here if I was going to eat you. I’m a civilized troll.” She set a cup down upon the table next the bed and filled it with tea.

            Her heart returning to its proper domain, Wailbaby frowned. “A what?”

            Cradling her own teacup, the troll chuckled. “Call me Aunt Agatha. And I’m a civilized troll. I don’t eat people. I’ve been trying to civilize that hulking nephew of mine, but though she’s got the accent down, he just can’t break his naughty habit.”
Wailbaby tucked her blanket around herself for security and frowned again. “What do you mean little? You’re shorter than me!” 

           Aunt Agatha scooted up a stood and sat her bulky frame upon it. “That’s because I’m so old. You should have seen in my prime. I was so much larger than you little midges.”

            The princess’s alarm flipped to irritation. Little midges indeed!

            But the troll continued. “You tiny humans are so amusing strutting about like cock-crows. I once tried make a pet of one once, but she was much too fussy.”

            The alarm flared back to life.

            “No, no, I’m not making a pet of you. The elf wrote me, asking me to treat you like a fellow civilized troll. Silly request. But I agreed to it just to humor him. Beautiful little things, elves are. Far more intelligent than you humans. Wish he could have stayed longer, though his kind are neveh very amusing.”

            “He left me?” Wailbaby squeaked in dismay.

            “He wrote he would be back in three to five days to bring you back to your home. Brought you in on phoenix, if you care to know. Peppery things, those phoenixes. Well, then what is your name, child?”

            For a moment she could answer, silently writing with rage and worry that Sharnth had actually left her behind. When the question finally computed, she murmured, “Um, Wailbaby. Princess Wailbaby.”

            The troll’s mouth dropped open. “What a horrid name!” she exclaimed. “What are those humans thinking? A pretty gel like you can’t have such a horrid title! Well, I shall call you Wailie. I see it’s high time you had some looking after. Yes, you will become a fine little lady. A proper trollette!”

            Over the next few days, Wailie, as she was hence forth dubbed, began an epoch in her life that she would never forget. With Agatha’s guidance, she learned the basics of cooking, cleaning, and gardening. Throughout it all, the trolless kept a steady stream of talk, and though the princess was annoyed with humans constantly referred to as little, she came to enjoy the old woman’s gossip.

            She learned far more about trolls than she ever wanted, amongst such was that she learned actual trolls were senior male trolls, trollesses were senior females, trollimps were young males, and trollettes were young females. This at least had come about with the fashionable “civilization” of trollkind.

            She also read many books in the library. One day, she found a enormously fat book entitled, Everything You Need To Know (And More!) About Botany. Gasping in delight, she pulled it down and began pouring over it. In truth, no subject bored her more (except perhaps eraser-making), but she was determined to impress Sharenth when he returned.

            But by the sixth day, when he still had not come, Wailie became anxious. “He should have been back by now!” she worried aloud.

            “I’m sure he can take of himself,” Aunt Agatha assured.

            Two more days passed, and still no sign of him.

            What if he had forgetton about her? Or worse, what if he intended to abandon her? She began packing supplies and when the trolless inquired as to her intention, she stubbornly declared. “I’m going to find him! You can’t stop me! Now which way did he go?”

            With a huff, Aunt Agatha pointed north. Screwing up courage, Wailie bestowed a kiss on the old trolless’s cheek and thanked her, before starting off. It was a surprising feeling that she was sorry to leave Agatha behind. But the thought of Sharenth in some sort of danger was too unbearable for words.

            By the next day, however, she began to wonder if she had been a bit rash to take on the search.

But by incredible fortune or blessing, as was walking beside a woodland creek, she was slashed by a wave of water.

            Er, you might say. What, pray tell, is so fortunate about that?

            Just keep listening.

            Another wave of water soaked her.

            “Hey!” she shouted, not even sure who was speaking to. “Stop that! I’m getting wet!”

            A silvery laugh twinkled in the air. “I know! Isn’t it glorious?”

            Curiosity prevailing over fear, Wailie leaned out over the stream, trying to catch a glimpse of her mysterious assailant. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the water right before the water rose in a strange hump as if someone was pushing it up from underneath. Leaping back, she watched in awe as the hump spread into a form, and then the form had color, and then she was staring at a young woman halfway out of the water. Her hand rested on the creek ’s surface, making little circles. From her waist down, she dissolved into the stream. A smile bloomed across her pretty face.

            “You’re a…” Wailie began blankly.

            “A nyad, dearie.” She shook her hair, sending water flying.

            Squeaking, Wailbaby ducked away.

            “You don’t like water?” the nyad asked, looking hurt.

            “I don’t like getting wet. Excuse me for changing the subject, but have seen an elf come by?”

            “A handsome one?” she asked with wide-eyed innocence.

            “Yes, I didn’t think you saw an ugly one,” Wailbaby returned, her brow scrunching in irritation.

            “I did, I did! I splashed him and he didn’t mind—unlike some people—and he traveled down my stream. But then he went away and I was lonely and then I saw you! This is my day!” she bubbled. “Come on, I’ll show where he went.”

            “If he followed the stream, I don’t think I’ll need directions,” Wailie said, who wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this new acquaintance.

            “Oh, but there are several forks in it!” she fluttered. “Follow me!”

            As they traveled, and no forks appeared, Wailie began to guess that it was simply an excuse for the nyad to have someone to chatter to.  For a while, the princess had to rest, so the nyad dashed on ahead. When she was ready to begin again, Wailie called for the water-nymph, not truly expecting a reply. But up she burst, smiling still.

            “How’d you hear me?” Wailie exclaimed.

            With a silver laugh, the nyad answered, “This is my stream. I am in all of it.”

            The princess struggled up. “How far ahead is Sharenth anyways?”

            “The elf? Some hours ahead, I should think.”

            “A couple of hours? I’ll never catch up!”

            “You were lucky enough to have even been near his vicinity. Well, let me help.” She swept over to a fallen log, pulled it into the current, and brought it over. “Climb on,” she invited.

            Wailie timidly complied, straddling the log with all her limbs. The nyad dipped down and surfaced on the rear end of the log. “Hold on!” she called merrily.

            The next moment, the log was zooming through the water at blurring speed, stealing even her screams away. She felt like her eyes were going to rip out, and her golden hair streamed like a banner behind her.

             Finally, they drifted to a stop. “Here we are! They’re right through that brush over there. Hear them?”

            Wailie rolled onto the bank, her legs too shaky to stand. “A-a-all I hear is trees,” she said.

            The nyad laughed. “Of course. What did you expect?” With a wave, she dipped back into the water and vanished.

To Be Continued...