A Trylle Fanfiction
Jasper Frost has never been an ordinary child. He could see and do things which nobody else could.
When he is rescued by a tracker and taken to the city Förening, Jasper is assured that this was where he truly belonged. However...
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Madelyn Laris and her family bowed before me and introduced themselves (with a wink "Even though have already met and been introduced"). Madelyn lingered around me for some more time, talking about normal things such as what did I do in the palace all day long, how I survive my dad's wrath, where all have I been in the city and about what kinds of ghosts I have acquainted myself to, around here.
"Well, I'll tell you what. There is an entire row of armed tin soldier ghosts standing obediently at the palace gate, not realising that their efforts are quite in vain. And then, there are all of history's former kings and queens in the throne room, each one boasting about the reign, their jewels, their accomplishments and their wealth, and all of them fighting to sit on the throne. And then, there is my bossy great grandmother; she is a totally different category of horrible beings. I just hope she hasn't heard me say what I said about her."
Madelyn laughed. "That should be expected from the palace, shouldn't it?"
But before I could reply, a rough hand grabbed me by my shoulder. "My apologies for so rudely snatching away the host of the evening, Marksinna. May I have a word with you, Jasper?" I whipped about clumsily to find His Majesty with his strong calloused hand on my shoulder.
Normally I would've been intimidated by his callouses, but tonight I saw them differently. Tonight, they signified all the self harm he had subjected himself to, in honour of Zoe Frank.
"Uh, sure." I replied uncertainly. I wasn't sure how to react around my father anymore. Should I be the same sassy and normal myself? Should I still hate him for being so cold and rude? Should I treat him with softness, pity and understanding? Should I speak up to him about Zoe Frank?
My instincts decided that for me. "Why didn't you tell me?" I quietly asked.
"Tell you what?" The King snapped hoarsely.
"About Zoe." I barely whispered. "I learnt last night. I went to your treehouse, and then Zoe let me view her memories after her de - "
"How. Dare. You?" Oliver spoke each word, low but hard. "Do you think it is very smart of you to go prying into other's pasts? Do you think it is impressive to unveil others' dark secrets?"
"Secrets? The entire city knew - except for me!"
"And what would you have done, even if you knew?! Offer me your pity! Try to pat my shoulder and say that you understand, when you don't!"
"I could make Zoe Frank visible and audible for you." I offered. "We could - we could try healing her together: myself with my necromantic powers, and you as a healer."
The King's face remained tightly strained for some time, before he exhaled and spoke in a hopeless, lifeless voice "Often, son, when you have lived in the darkness for too long, you forget what light looks like. And when there aren't 2 distinct hemispheres of light and dark . . . .well, what are you living on? You aren't living at all. Just never offer me your pity or care anymore. And I am done with your necromancy."
