Words Have Consequences
1686 Words
Once upon a time in a land far away, an ugly old troll approached the stone wall that surrounded a castle. He unlatched the gate. The strong wind ripped it from his bony fingers. The gate clanged against the stones. It took all the troll's strength to force the gate closed behind him as he entered the castle grounds.
The troll's entire body shook when claps of thunder boomed in the distance. Lightning streaked across the sky, momentarily illuminating several statues scattered throughout the grounds. The pounding rains landed on the perfectly sculpted likenesses of Greek gods and muscular warriors. The owner of the castle clearly had an appreciation of the classic, naked male form.
By the time he climbed the stone steps, the troll was completely soaked from head to toe. He shivered as his thin, torn and ratty clothes flapped in the wind.
The troll wrapped both hands around the fancy knot at the end of a thick rope that hung to the right of a large wooden door. He put forth considerable effort yanking on the rope. He heard the bells echo inside the castle.
The handsome prince who owned the castle had been reclining in his reading room. "Who could be ringing the bells at this late hour on a stormy night such as this?" he said aloud as he rose and looked out the window. Seeing the storm in full force, he thought perhaps the wind itself had taken hold of the rope.
Rather than wake his already sleeping servants, the prince decided to check the door himself. If a hunky passing knight needed a place to stay, well, the prince would be glad to share his bed!
The prince walked down the long stone corridor. He descended the winding staircase which led to the front entrance. "Hark! Who goes there?" the prince called through the door.
His voice was like music to the troll's ears. It had been so long since he'd come in contact with a man with a masculine voice like that. Its richness and deepness conjured all kinds of visions of how handsome its owner must be.
"A poor and weary traveler," the troll replied in answer to the prince's question. "May I trouble you for shelter from this horrendous storm and perhaps a morsel of food?"
When the prince heard the troll's high-pitched and whiny voice, he knew he would be short of stature and certainly no threat. The prince removed the heavy wooden bar from its holder. The huge door creaked open.
The candelabras from the foyer provided a sudden patch of bright light. The troll blinked in surprise. He covered his eyes with his hands.
The prince blinked in disgust at the sight of the creature on his doorstep. The misshapen, stooped-over troll couldn't have been more than four feet tall. His scraggly beard went all the way down to the top of his chest. His pointy ears stuck out from under his dirty hat. His fingernails were so sharp, they resembled claws.
"How dare you, an ugly little troll, disturb my reading?" the prince roared.
"Begging your pardon, sir, I lost my way in the dark and I need a place to stay to wait out the storm–"
The prince cut him off. "What you need is a miracle. With the way you look, I shouldn't doubt that terrible storms follow you everywhere you go!"
The troll shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It was obvious that his old joints were aching from the weather. Ignoring the prince's rude remarks, the troll tried another tactic. "I can offer you something in return for your hospitality."
The prince rested his hands on his gold-laced belt. He stared down at the obviously indigent beggar. "What could you possibly offer me, troll?"
The troll produced a compact mirror from his pocket. The prince thought it must have been the only possession the troll had in the world. As he held the mirror out towards him, the prince noticed the troll had tiny hairs growing in the palm of his hand.
The prince gestured at the beautiful castle furnishings behind him. He directed the troll's attention to several full-length mirrors that he used to admire himself from many angles. "I have no need of your trinkets. As you can see, I have gold aplenty to purchase mirrors and anything else my heart desires."
The troll reached into the soaking-wet pocket of his vest. He pulled out a handkerchief decorated with intricate embroidery. He held it up in the prince's line of vision.
Curiously, the handkerchief was completely dry despite the wet conditions from which it was retrieved. The prince thought the troll's vest pocket must have been lined with some type of water-resistant material. In any case, he had no interest in the little piece of fabric.
"Will you consider this handkerchief a fair trade for a bite to eat and a night's lodging in the castle?" the troll asked.
The prince scoffed. "I have royal tailors who create these magnificent clothes you see me wearing before you. I hardly need your pitiful scrap of material."
The troll tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket. "Ah!" said the troll, "I have skills which Your Majesty might find pleasing."
Unconvinced, the prince allowed, "Go on. I'm listening."
"I'm very skilled in the sensual arts," said the troll. "If you show me to your bedchamber, I will take you to heights of s****l pleasure, the likes of which you've never experienced!"
One thing was for sure – the prince laughed the likes of which he had never experienced. He held his stomach as he doubled over in fit after fit of laughter. He couldn't even catch his breath to comment on the troll's declaration.
"I see you find my offer funny," the troll said, stating the obvious with a distinct edge of anger creeping into his voice.
"Hysterical would be more accurate," the prince told him as he attempted to regain his composure. "Repulsive and delusional come to mind too. You think I would share a bed with a grotesque little creature like you? I've been with the hottest knights, finest princes, and most handsome kings in all the realms!"
"Yet, you are still alone," the troll pointed out.
The prince bristled. He didn't want to show the troll that he'd hit a nerve. "Not that it's any of your business, troll, but it does get a little repetitive with so many gorgeous men throwing themselves at my feet all the time."
"That must be a burden," agreed the troll, making no attempt to hide the sarcasm in his voice. "Perhaps some of those fine men are not finding what they are looking for within you. And perhaps the rest of them are – because all those men want from you is a worked-out body and a good time, but nothing of any substance."
"What would you know about it, troll?" snapped the prince. "Nobody would ever go near a horrid, old and dried up thing like you!"
Inside, the troll's blood boiled. He clasped his claw-like hands together. He sighed quietly, willing himself to remain as calm as possible. With a deliberate and measured tone, he responded, "My good Prince, I entreat you to think of how you sound. Words have consequences. Appearances are not always what they seem. For true beauty, goodness, and even talent are found within. I shall give you a moment to reconsider your harsh words."
"Insolent fool!" screamed the prince. "I know exactly what I'm saying. I'm done wasting my time with the likes of you. Go crawl back under your bridge, or your rock, or wherever you came from. Only a disgusting beast would even bother to give you the time of day!"
The troll flashed an evil smile. The few white spots on his pointy and otherwise stained teeth gleamed in the candlelight. "So everything they said about you in the village is true! You may be the most handsome man in all the realms, but inside, you are dark and ugly, there is no love in your heart. You wouldn't even take pity on a poor and weary traveler in the height of a storm. As you said yourself, you have gold aplenty and an exquisitely furnished castle so it would cost you nothing to shelter a destitute stranger for an evening."
"You're boring me with your babbling on. Be gone with you," said the prince with a dismissive wave of the hand. He gave the wooden door a good shove with his other hand, fully expecting it to slam shut with a resounding thud in the troll's face.
The troll simply held up one of his sharp fingernails. The heavy door instantly and inexplicably stopped moving. The troll blew gently in the door's direction. It swung wide-open again.
"How did you do that?" the prince asked in disbelief.
"I'm a sorcerer," the troll explained. "I'm on a mission to find a man whose inner beauty matches his outward appearance. In all the men I've come across so far in my travels, you are definitely the most handsome man I've seen."
"Of course," the prince said jutting his chin out a bit.
"You're also the one with the most contrast between his outward looks and his inner true self. I'm going to fix that," the troll threatened as magic sparks of energy jumped from the fingertips of one of his hands to the other.
The prince took a step back into the castle. He reached for the sword in its sheath at his side.
"You won't be using that sword tonight," the troll stated. He merely glared at it.
The prince struggled to remove his weapon from its sheath. No matter how hard he pulled, no matter how much his impressive muscles strained, the sword refused to budge.
The troll's eyes danced with mischief. He looked directly at the prince's impressive bulge in his tights. "I also predict you won't be using that sword any time soon, if ever again, after I'm done with you."
- Writer
