The Goddess Martyr

Chapter 6 :D

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Life as a thrall sucked. The day started off with Jeff ‘forgetting’ to wake me up, so I blinked my eyes open to the sound of harsh pounding on the door.

I rubbed my eyes, groaning at how sore my arms and back were. My left shoulder burned, throbbing, and a loud voice yelled at me through the thick wood of the door, “You’ve got five seconds ta open this door, or I’ll rip yeur ears off for Níðhöggr!!”

I barely had time to sit up in bed, before he started counting down. Knowing that he would most likely follow through with his threat, I tumbled out of bed, hitting the floor hard. Flinching, I staggered to the door, wrenching it open in record time to pant in Sigurd’s scarred face.

He was scowling, bushy eyebrows almost covering his piercing eyes, so the only flesh part of his face I could really spot was his nose and ruddy cheeks before his beard started. He growled at me, “Nice ta see that yeur still alive. Here’s yeur patron for the week – you better do everything she says, or I’ll have yeur head. Yeur lucky; normally they don’t volunteer ta babysit brats.”

He stomped off, seeming mad about something, and taking part of his temper out on me. I was in a bad enough mood already to glare after him, snapping my eyes to the leafy figure waiting in front of me. My eyebrows shot up as I recognized her fiery maple-leaf hair, as she winked at me and chirped suggestively, “Looks like you’re stuck with me for the week. Now, where should I put you to work?”

Her flirtatious grin made me abruptly remember that I hadn’t gotten dressed before opening the door, so I was standing in my pjs. My cheeks got hot, and I excused myself quickly while she laughed, chirping.

I walked out ten minutes later, dressed in new clothes but in the same red t-shirt. I glanced down in hatred at the fibrous thrall shirt I was wearing overtop of my t-shirt, and shrugged into my hoodie, hoping that the extra layer would hide some of the shirt.  

My efforts were futile. As the elf led me through the twisting dirt roads of Camp, I heard wolf-whistles and various people yelling insults at me. I gritted my teeth, and feigned being deaf as I stomped quickly after the elf. Someone barrelled their shoulder into mine, my injured one. I had to clench my jaw against the eye-watering pain, and whipped around to glare at a familiar bastard. Charley glared back at me, the slightest bit of bandages peaking out from over his shoulder, under his shirt. I opened my mouth, but the elf had noticed I’d stopped following her, and cheerily called out, “Jenson! C’mon cutie, don’t you want to spend some time with me?”

My cheeks flushed bright red, and Charley smirked at me. He walked off, arrogant expression pissing me off. I stalked up to where the elf stood, waiting for me. I joined her as she moved again, and whispered so the other kids watching me with taunting faces couldn’t hear, “Please don’t call me that.”

She swung her head around to stare down at me (she was a good half-foot taller than me), surprise on her…uh, bark-face. She exclaimed, “What? Cutie? But you are cute! My cousin was right when she described you, back when you were still at school.”

School? I staggered when another person bumped into me, but was gone by the time I whirled around. I continued following the elf, growling, “What school? St. Frederick’s?”

She nodded happily, sending me a flirtatious look with her moss eyes. “She said you liked to sit and watch her often. Not many humans take notice in us, or think we’re attractive.”

She winked at me, and I felt my stomach clench when I finally understood. Her cousin, one of the elves I’d seen in the forest at St. Frederick’s, had told her about me always spending time in the forest. She’d mistaken it for me liking elves, when I’d actually just been mystified by them, and needed a place away from all the jerks at that school.