With Heart to Hear

She stepped closer. The troll narrowed his eyes, but remained still. Slowly, she reached up to touch his face. His skin was cool and rough; she let her hand rest below a prominent cheekbone. The troll’s dark eyes widened in surprise, and he flinched. Then he turned his face into her palm and his eyes closed tightly. A moment later, Elise felt the monster’s cold tears trailing down her wrist.

A chill ran down Elise’s arm, sending a shiver through her frame, quickly chased by a spreading warmth in her fingertips.

Beneath her hand, flowing outward, he was changing. Racing across the surface of his face like wildfire across a wind-swept field, smooth, healthy flesh replaced the rough, mottled green skin. No longer disfigured and snaggle-toothed, his face reflected nobility in his straight nose, broad brow, and sensuous lips.

Across his shoulders and chest, the sweeping change continued. Elise’s gaze followed the edge of transformation down his torso as it revealed his nakedness, as beautiful in its symmetry as Michelangelo’s David. Heat rose in Elise’s face as her embarrassment flared, but she didn’t turn away.

The man, for man he now was, raised his face from Elise’s palm. Wavy, chestnut-colored hair fell to his shoulders. His eyes, now green, still held a hint of grief, but the anger and bitterness were gone. A sudden smile transformed his face still further as he stretched his strong, clean, human hands before him. He threw his arms wide and laughed like the sound of bells ringing. Then he lifted Elise and twirled her in a circle.

Instead of feeling alarmed, Elise found herself grinning foolishly, caught up in the man’s joy. When he set her down again, the splash of cold water on her feet and legs did little to dispel her giddy happiness, despite the oddness of the situation. None of the etiquette books had prepared Elise for a moment such as this, but the awkwardness she expected to feel was absent as the nude man took her hand and inclined his head. “I am Garth, Lord… Sheehan.”

Habit came to her rescue. “My lord,” she said, curtseying.

Lord Sheehan reached for her other hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. The touch of his lips sent a shiver reminiscent of her dream through her body. Then he pulled her gently to the bank of the brook.
In the back of her mind, Elise was aware that any proper lady would have long since run screaming or collapsed in a dead faint. She’d always striven to behave appropriately, but her interest in science and the natural world often overrode her best intentions. Her curiosity, however, wasn’t what now made her go with him. Something drew her, like iron filings to a magnet. The absolute strangeness of events and the unfamiliar sensations tickling her awareness colored her thoughts and inclined Elise to follow, unresisting.

As she stepped out of the stream, Elise felt a faint vibration against the soles of her bare feet, subtle and varied like the rhythm of distant music. Lord Sheehan helped her climb the steep bank, and when they reached more level ground Elise began to sense, more than hear, a subtle melody. Almost out of reach, many voices contributed to its whole. The bird flitting from stem to branch, the field mouse’s scurrying, the clouds flowing past the distant hills all added to the song.

Her companion reached behind her and unbuttoned the two large buttons of her work smock.

“Lord Sheehan?”

His hands stilled but remained where they were, holding her in a partial embrace. “Garth. And may I call you Elise?”

Using first names was too familiar for propriety, but it felt right, fitting smoothly into the music surrounding them. She nodded. “Garth.”

He pulled the smock from her, causing the knotted hem of her skirts to fall down around her wet legs. Her petticoat stuck to the dampness, and she kicked at the clinging fabric.

“Take it off.” Garth’s resonant voice matched his handsome face. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

The suggestion was outrageous. His removal of the smock had been presumptuous enough, but Elise didn’t feel outraged. She heard the meadow grass singing of freedom in the evening breeze and the confining fabric of the petticoat suddenly seemed too much to bear. Elise hiked up her skirt and untied the strings. Then Garth’s hands were on her hips under her skirt, sliding the garment down. Elise felt the heat of his touch through the fabric as they traveled down her thighs. The rhythm of her blood sang harmony with the chorus whispering around her.