Page 8 of Heart of the Mountain King

"Of course it is!" Sten's eyes were comically wide as he gestured wildly around them. "Why wouldn't it be? It's why I've been going through all this effort!"

"Because Sten not know vættir like Rask," Rask tried to explain, a feat made that much more difficult with most of a bottle of high-proof brännvin sloshing around in his belly. He didn't think he was as far gone as the little human, but it was still enough to leave his skin pleasantly buzzing and his fingers aching to brush away the strand of hair that'd strayed between Sten's stone-grey eyes…

Rask coughed, forcing his thoughts back into position. "Sten not know what vættir want. Maybe good for humans. Maybe very bad. Humans not tied to land like bergsrår. Can go wherever, far from angry vættir. Maybe like somewhere else better."

"Yeah. It's all just that easy, huh?" Sten asked softly, a bitter twist to his lips. "Look — if we can't stop the vættir, then the foreman has to shut down the quarry. If the quarry shuts down, the merchants will leave, and then there's no need for all the jarlsguard. No need for the quarrymen either, which means most of the town would be out of work."

"So leave," Rask said as he stood, needing to secure his goats if they were to do this. "Find other work."

"Some will," Sten agreed, rising to follow Rask through the mouth of his cave. "Most can't. And those who are left… Too many empty hands and hungry mouths, no purpose and no one left to keep an eye on things? That's usually a recipe for bandits, one way or another. Bandits who’ll have heard the stories same as I or any other child in the valley; tales of the King Under the Mountain, who guards his great treasure alone. Once they've ransacked my village, how long do you think it’ll be before they try their luck up here?”

"Rask has no treasure here," Rask told him, hefting up a bale of hay in each hand and carrying it to the excited goats in their paddock. "Not anymore."

"Won't keep people from coming up to look, will it?" the aggravating man mused as he watched Rask break up the hay and spread it around the pen. "I got up here easily enough."

"So do Rask's goats," Rask countered, turning to the little human. "Should Rask milk Sten, too?"

The human got a funny expression on his face at that. But then he shook himself, as if flinging away whatever thought Rask's words had prompted, and followed Rask without further question as they set off down the mountain.

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Rask scowled at the game trail they followed, the temptation to turn back and leave the little man to his own fate warring with the knowledge of what would happen if Rask tried.

There were too many reasons he shouldn't involve himself on the human's behalf, though. Not least of which was the possibility that the vættirs' wrath could prove to be justified. Humans were always causing trouble in the valleys below his mountain; shouting and fighting with each other, drowning out the Song with their mining. It was not his problem.

Still, Sten had shown spirit coming here, tracking down and arguing with a bergsrå, fulfilling his side of their Deal. There was a fire to him Rask found amusing. He was surprised to realize he would be sad to see this one leave when it was all over. Or worse, learn the frail human had fallen to some vættir trick. Maybe…

No. It didn’t matter how Rask might feel about Sten, did it? There were ancient patterns that must be observed, and Rask had been reckless to offer the human a Deal the way he had. The bergsrå had no choice but to see it through, little though Sten may thank him for it later.

However impossible the terms Rask laid out had seemed at the time, Sten had somehow managed to meet them.

Technically.

Easily.

Cleverly.

Which, for a fae, was already bad enough. But for Rask specifically? The intolerable human’s cheeky answer to the bergsrå's riddle meant he might — might— be interesting after all.

It was absolutely unacceptable.

Glancing over — again — as they walked, Sten was studying Rask now with a different sort of expression from any Rask had seen him wear before.

"What wrong with Sten's face?"

"What?" Sten squawked, before laughing. "Oh, sorry — I was just, um, wondering…"

Rask considered him warily, disconcerted by the way Sten was gnawing at his own lip. Was the human hungry? Did they need to stop for another break? Sten had already called a halt twice to water the trees, and he was having to take three steps for every one of Rask's to keep up.

Sten took a deep breath. "Can bergsrår and human males couple then?"

"What?" Rask's foot came down hard as his gait faltered, nearly choking at the unexpected question.

"Yesterday, when, um…" Sten coughed. "I mean, surely you would not have mentioned it if — if such a thing weren’t possible?"

Rask snorted, amused beyond all measure now. "Rask teasing small human. Sten's face almost as funny as Rask's goats."

The man's head tilted like a bird's as he reconsidered. "So, it's not possible then?"