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Lina
It was good to be back.
Foam tickled my nose as I peered down into the sparkling chalice on the bar. The glass was very nearly my height, but that didn’t matter to me one bit—not when most things were made for people so much bigger than me.
“Careful there, little lady.” The voice came from a man I’d never seen in here before, sitting a couple of barstools down.
I studied his friendly face and noticed the glossy look of inebriation in his eyes. Maybe he didn’t meanlittleas an insult, but he had no idea how unnecessary his warning was.
I smiled back at him over the rim of my glass, but someone else responded for me.
“Don’t worry, Breldor. Lina can hold her liquor better than your average Ogre,” my friend Vale said, from the other side of the bar. Then he glanced at the stool behind me, red flushing into his cheeks. “No offense, Wigbert.”
“None taken,” the kind ogre assured him.
The man simply nodded before taking his drinks back to his booth. Vale gave me a small wink before topping off my glass and heading back to the kitchens. I almost swore I heard the hearts of several girls break at his departure. I knew that most of them came to this tavern for a glimpse of him, if not for his fantastic cooking skills alone.
When it was his sister's turn at the bar, the smiles and attention didn’t lessen. Neira and Vale were cut from the same perfect cloth; stunning creatures with raven-colored hair that contrasted starkly against their porcelain skin and hazel eyes. Their younger siblings shared these gorgeous looks, as well, and thus, all four were widely recognized around town.
Taking a sip of my ale, I couldn’t deny the slight jealousy that rose up inside of me as I watched the room watch them for their beauty, and not for their oddities.What I wouldn’t give to know other people who look more like me.
I’d never seen someone as small as me in the village—and I’d never heard of anyone like me outside of it. As far as I knew, I was the only one of my kind.
When Mama was alive, none of that seemed to matter. But now...
I took a deep breath, allowing the heady scents of whiskey and roasted meats to transport me to a happier time in my life. One when I would spend a few nights a week here at the tavern with my closest friends. One where I wasn’t mourning or avoiding those same people for fear of breaking down all over again.
By my fourth pint, I was feeling better than I had in ages. The apple ale dulled the back spasms that had assaulted me for years, and it even soothed that ache in my chest that came whenever I thought of Mama.
It’s just the distraction I need.
The familiar clinking of glass and metal ricocheted as Neira poured tankards of ale, whiskey, and cider for the eager customers, and their coins hit the bar in payment.
“Hey, Lina’s back!” A few of the elves called over to me as they made their way to a shared booth with a group of orcs, something you would never see outside of this tavern.
I waved and smiled. The Poisoned Apple Tavern was a safe haven for all of usmisfits. For anyone who the High Queen of Floriend hadn’t deemedhuman enough.
As far as I knew, it was the one place in the world where there was an unspoken truce, no matter where you came from; Orcs, Elves, Men, Ogres, and one thumb-sized girl could all meet up, share a meal, and know that the man next to him wasn’t an enemy.
And I knew all of them, for the most part. Each of them had been there for me during Mama’s funeral. Every person here, everyone I’d ever known, had shown up and offered their condolences.
Everyone buthim.
I pushed the thought away as Neira approached, bringing me another pint and a plate of fried vegetables with my favorite dipping sauce. My mouth was already watering when she set the plate down in front of me. An unexpected squeak escaped my lips as she pulled out a slice of apple pie with the crumbly sweet topping I loved from the cooling tray, and added it to my plate.
Not a slice for someone my size, but a regular one. A slice I could sleep on if I didn’t have plans to devour it whole.
“It’s on the house,” she said, walking away before giving me a chance to argue.
“I’ll have whatever she’s having.” A feminine voice came from behind me as she strode up to the bar.
Neira smiled at her and handed her a slice of pie before a furry hand reached out and scratched at the counter.
“One for Frankie, too?” Neira asked and the girl smiled.
“Yes, please.”
