When I arrived at the Northern gate, hastily strapping on my armor and adjusting my chainmail, the battalion was already gone. The gate was still open to the outside, the ground around it torn up and muddied from the three dozen horses that had sprinted through. I cursed loudly. Why were the Norns so determined to weave such rotten luck into my fortune?

I stomped over to a nearby stablehand sweeping the stalls. He tried very hard to ignore me at first, but eventually he was forced to set aside his broom and look up.

"When did they leave?" I demanded.

"You only just missed them, my lady," He said. "The men will certainly take care of the troll, Princess. Perhaps you should return to your chambers and-"

"Saddle my horse," I snapped impatiently. Like all the servants, this one was under father's control. Of course he would deter me from leaving.

"My lady, the battalion has taken all of the fresh horses already-"

"Did I say a fresh horse?" I retorted. I was gritting my teeth once again. My jaw was definitely going to ache tomorrow. I casually drew a knife from my belt and began to spin it across my knuckles like a child spins a top, watching the man's hands tighten on his broom. "I won't repeat myself."

The stablehand gulped and disappeared into the stalls without another word.

A minute later he reemerged leading Tan by the reins, already saddled and ready to ride. When the time had come for me to learn horseback riding, father had given me my own horse as a gift. He was a beautiful colt with long, sturdy legs, mottled gray hair, and a shaggy silver mane. And, of course, he was huge, tall and strong enough to carry even someone my size a great distance astride his back. If he ever came face to face with a bear, I truly couldn't be certain which animal would win.

Father had already named him: Tanngnjóstr, after the proud beast that pulled Thor's golden chariot. A long and stuffy old name, just like my own. At that age, I could barely even spell out the runes for it, and so I'd shortened the name to Tan. He seemed to be fond of his nickname, at least. We had that in common.

Tan snorted impatiently, and I lifted myself onto his back. I pulled harshly on the reins, causing him to rear back with a whinny before galloping through the gate at break neck speed.

Outside the castle, it was all forest as far as the eye could see, which wasn't much considering the gray, soupy sky and the low mist that hung in midair, obscuring my vision. I followed the battalion's tracks as best I could, leading Tan along the trail of footprints in the dirt. It seemed that they'd followed the main roadway leading away from the castle.

Soon, however, the tracks split into many different paths. This must have been where they'd separated to search for the troll. I hadn't really thought about the fact that finding the creature might be difficult- after all, how do you miss a huge monster lumbering through your woods? But in this weather, spotting the troll before it spotted you would be difficult. It could be anywhere, watching you from just beyond the mist, waiting for the perfect moment to strike...

I urged Tan along the tracks of one of the smaller groups, peering warily around me. I jumped in panic as I felt something on my shoulder, only to realize that it was just a drop of rain. A light drizzle began, just enough to make the ground slippery and mask any low sounds. The troll would have the same disadvantages in a fight, but still, I didn't like it one bit.

Why in the nine realms would Ingrid go to seek out the troll? I tried to puzzle out an answer in my mind, but I couldn't conjure up anything that made sense. I focused on my anger at her, how I'd give her a good talking to when I did find her. It distracted me from the fear.

I smelled the bodies before I saw them. Though disgusting, the scent of rotting flesh wasn't an unfamiliar one. I'd accompanied Gregor on enough skirmishes with rebelling peasants or lawless bandits to recognize it anywhere.

Sure enough, the tracks soon ended where the riders had fallen. There were three of them, their blood standing out starkly against the dull mud. I didn't care to look too closely, but I forced myself. Two of the men had no obvious external wounds. Their bodies lay in awkward angles, their lifeless eyes staring up into nothing. It had probably taken just one swing of the troll's fist to instantly crush their hearts in their chests. Lucky bastards. Their comrade hadn't been quite so fortunate.

The third man had been torn cleanly in half, a gruesome death even on the battlefield. The top half of the body was the only part visible. It lay near the corpse of one of the horses in a pool of its own blood, the bottom half probably rotting in some corner of the woods nearby. The arms were horribly mangled as well, twisted and broken in several different places, and parts of the ribcage poked through the skin. The image rose in my mind unbidden: A giant, shadowy figure using both hands to grab the poor dead man by his middle and pull with all its might...

I shivered and moved onward. The dead would be collected later and sent to Valhalla with a pyre. For now, I had to worry about the living. As I gripped Tan's reins, about to push him to continue running north, I saw it. There, in the mud not ten feet away: a large footprint, faded in the rain but clear.

The troll's trail.

I took one more glance at the dead men, promising myself that I'd give my best armor to their funeral pyre, and led Tan in the direction the troll had gone.

The mist only got thicker the deeper into the forest we went. I was forced to slow Tan to a trot to avoid smashing into any trees, as much as it irritated me to do so. It was impossible to see anything but white all around us, as if we were walking through the realm of the gods.

And then came the voices. One foreign, unfamiliar, the other a timbre I would recognize anywhere. They drifted softly through the wood, like the snatches of a ghost's wails or the howling of distant winds. On any other day, I would have shrugged them off as the sounds of the forest's animals. But not today.

Ingrid.

I pushed Tan to a sprint, to Hel with crashing into any trees. Before he had even reached his fastest, we burst onto the scene.

The voices ceased. The world seemed to pause for a moment, holding its breath, as my eyes took in the sight before me.

There was Ingrid, her soft blond hair damp from the rain, the train of her dress muddy and frayed from her journey. I couldn't recall the last time I'd seen her in such a bedraggled, unkempt state. She looked better this way, I noted to myself. Less grand, less postured. Like any simple girl gone out to the countryside to escape a claustrophobic keep and an overbearing father. The dirt and rain suited her well.

I felt a heavy weight relinquish its hold on my heart at the sight of her, but Ingrid only captured my attention for the briefest of moments. After a swift glance to ensure her safety, my gaze was automatically drawn to the troll.

After all of the stories, all of the fearful rumors and panicked preparations because of these monsters, seeing an actual troll for the first time was rather underwhelming. The beast was large certainly, perhaps seven or eight feet tall, yet I doubt it would have been able to crush an entire village underfoot. It was freakishly ugly. A blocky, misshapen head with large ears and an even larger nose that sat upon a bulky, muscular body. Its skin was a dull gray pallor that made it blend in perfectly with the rocks and rain. Still, the creature was strangely humanoid, with four limbs, two blinking eyes, and skin made of flesh, not stone.

If anything, it merely appeared to be a large, horribly disfigured man.

Then I saw the blood dripping down its arms and my contemplation vanished, battle instinct, cold and pure, taking its place.

Ingrid would not burn with the others this monster had already killed, not while I was still breathing.

I drew my sword and forced a terrified Tan to charge at the troll. I could just barely make out Ingrid shouting in fear over the pounding of Tan's hooves on the dirt and my own heartbeat galloping out of my chest.

The troll pulled out a weapon- a club- and swung. Tan neighed in panic as his feet fell out from under him, and we toppled over. I rolled back to my feet and thrust Spoon threateningly at the troll. I kept a firm stance, expecting it to lumber towards me as trolls were said to do, but it moved with unprecedented speed. I quickly shifted my body out of the way of a direct hit, but the monster's fist still connected with my side, sending me flying backwards.

I landed with a squelch in the muddy ground, Spoon slipping out of my grasp. Breathing heavily, I stood up on my feet again, but the pain in my side was almost unbearable. One of my ribs must have been bruised, if not broken. There was only one person I knew of who could put that much force behind a hit: myself.

Ingrid was screaming again but I drowned her out. A trickle of fear crept up my spine as I realized the situation I was in. In all of my previous battles, I could rely on my strength to grant me victory even against faster or more skilled opponents, but I had never before faced someone equal to me in pure physical power. The horrible truth was that I didn't know if I could win with such odds.

"Stop!" Ingrid shouted. Her voice sounded hoarse from trying to be heard over the fight. The troll frowned and hesitated. I ran forward to strike.

It just managed to dodge my first blow and responded by kneeing me in the gut. I gasped out, all of the air crushed out of my lungs at once, but didn't fall. I quickly grabbed a firm hold of its leg and flung the troll across the clearing with an angry grunt. It crashed into a small tree, which shuddered and toppled at the impact.

My breath was coming out in heaves now. I glanced around quickly- I had to find Spoon before the creature recovered enough to stand, which I didn't imagine would take very long. I kicked about the dead leaves and scrambled through the mud, but still couldn't find my sword. To Hel with it all! I'd use my fists if I had to.

I turned back towards where I'd thrown the troll and stopped in my tracks. Ingrid stood before it, Spoon held tightly in her hands and pointing at me. At me.

A mix of hurt and betrayal flashed across my face. She couldn't really think that I was one of them now, did she? Did she not realize I was fighting to protect her? I didn't think I could bear it if Ingrid, too, started to treat me like I was one of them. What if the violence had been too much for her to handle? Would she be afraid of me from now on? What if-

"Bryn," Ingrid spoke, her voice steady and surprisingly calm. "Please listen to me. I need you to stop."

Behind her, the troll stirred. I moved to get around her, but she only stepped to the side to block my way. My own sword, pointed right at me. What did she think she was doing?

"We can talk later," I nearly growled at her. "I need to kill the troll before-"

"No," Ingrid said firmly.

I stared. "'No?'"

"Bryn," She spoke my name again. She was using that tone that meant she was about to explain something that would be very difficult for me to understand. "What we think we know about them isn't true. They're not monsters."

I continued to stare, unable to comprehend what she was trying to say. "Not monsters?" I repeated. "Did you see the bodies of those men?"

She flinched but remained resolute. "That was in self defense-"

"Self defense!" I cried incredulously. All of the color suddenly drained from my face. "Have they used their magic to manipulate you? Is that why you're saying such crazy things?"

"No, it's not..." She trailed off, hearing the same sound that I was: the distant shouts of men and the pounding of hooves.

The troll finally stood up onto its feet. I tightened my fists, preparing to attack at the slightest move it made toward Ingrid, but it just stood there, watching. Waiting.

"Please Bryn, you have to trust me! You have to believe that everything they've said is a lie." She glanced toward the direction the battalion was coming from, looking more panicked and desperate each second. The mist swirled around her, making me doubt for a second whether all of this might have been a fantastical dream. The scent of blood and dirt in the air reminded me of how painfully real this was.

"Come with us to Herot," She blurted out suddenly. "I can tell you everything there."

"Ingrid!" I looked in surprise at the troll, wondering at its ability to speak. The troll's voice was heavily accented and clearly accusatory: Ingrid had not been meant to reveal this information to me.

Ingrid ignored it, still looking at me expectantly. Expecting what? For me to betray my kingdom, my fellow soldiers, my father? Our father? I still was not convinced that Ingrid was in her right mind. The Ingrid I knew would never have done something so bold, so daring. The Ingrid I knew was proper, vain to a fault, and one of the kindest people I had ever known. But she was not some inflammatory rebel, to out of the blue claim that our oldest enemies, who had shed the blood of us and our ancestors for generations, were no longer the monsters we knew them to be.

I met her gaze, her strong, determined gaze and felt a twinge of betrayal, this time not toward Ingrid but myself. How much of the Ingrid I knew was real, and what was just a front, the ideal image of an obedient, haughty, and intelligent princess? All that they expected her to be and more. Was I so blinded by my own selfish misery? How did I never question it before?

I couldn't trust this Ingrid, even if it hurt my heart not to do so. I thought of Gregor, his dogged determination to protect the people of Geatland, the bodies of those soldiers torn to shreds for no other reason than fulfilling their duty to their king. Even my father, his ability to put his country even above his own kith and kin. I couldn't turn my back on that, not even if Ingrid asked me to.

I shook my head from side to side, closing my eyes so I wouldn't have to see the shock and hurt on my sister's face. As always, she had expected me to trust her explicitly, to follow her anywhere. The fact that I would not, could not, changed something between us, something deep and unspoken. Something that I was unsure could ever be healed.

When I opened my eyes once more Ingrid and the troll were gone, and only the rain was left to wash away my tears. 

Sorry for the delay, I spent a lot of time rewriting and revising this one. What do you think of the new development? How do you think Bryn will react? Thank you all so much for reading, and I'd love to hear your feedback!