Table of Contents

Mr. Rumpel and Mr. Grimm

Book Details

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

About the Author

Mr. Rumpel

and Mr. Grimm

Echo Ishii

Claude Rumpel is a goblin turned human, living a quiet life in his little repair shop at the edge of town. He is in sore need of money to fund his inventions, and a cure for his hands, which he must keep covered at all times.

Daniel Grimm is half elf, descended from a wealthy family but now down on his luck. He is determined to restore his family's prestige and has a daring plan to do so.

The gold thread that Claude spins, and Daniel's ability to sell it, seems a perfect plan for their goals. The casual sex is a pleasant bonus. But they are constantly thwarted from all sides: Daniel's dealing with a powerful witch, the opposing magic of their lineages, and Claude's dark goblin desires...

Book Details

Mr. Rumpel and Mr. Grimm

By Echo Ishii

Published by Less Than Three Press LLC

All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

Edited by J. Ang

Cover designed by London Burden

This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

First Edition October 2014

Copyright © 2014 by Echo Ishii

Printed in the United States of America

Digital ISBN 9781620044452

I would like to thank my awesome beta reader Arielle Pierce and all the support of the Goodreads M/M romance writers group. Also, my fellow bloggers at the Smart Girls blog for their encouragement. And the team at Less Than Three for getting my novella into shape!

As always, most importantly, to JS and the little princess for their love and support.

Chapter One

"Say my name, Daniel Grimm." Claude Rumpel straddled his conquest, holding the other man's arms against the deep brown wooden backboard. The bed creaked loudly under the weight of both men.

"If you are any more aggressive, my little inventor, you'll break this bed with both of us in it," his lover said, without so much as a gasp.

It wouldn't break; Claude knew that because he'd restored it himself. It was from the strongest wood of the original world trees; from the house of a long dead sorcerer. Nothing could break this bed. Not even the passion with which he and Daniel coupled.

Claude was dizzy with lust and on the verge of madness, wishing his stare could will his lover into compliance.

Daniel smirked, wisps of white blonde hair clinging to his face with sweat. He moved his body just slightly as if feigning a struggle.

Claude wanted to be in charge, but his will was drowning in the sea of Daniel's blue eyes.

"You can only hope to make me call your name, Mr. Rumpel," Daniel said, straining against Claude's grip. Daniel was shorter, thinner, and lighter than Claude but deceptively strong. He moved his head up and gave Claude a passionate, bruising kiss. Claude could feel the muscles in his neck strain, heard the sounds of his own moaning as Daniel's tongue wrapped up in his firing the lust between them.

Claude's shoulders relaxed; his arms grew weak. Claude had foolishly cast himself in the role of the dominant, but it was clear.

He'd never win.

Daniel released him from his ardent kiss and Claude collapsed down onto his arms, rolling off to the side. The faerie silk sheets were cool and smooth against his skin; but even they provided no comfort to the loss of Daniel's hot-blooded body and warm nakedness. Daniel snaked away from him. Claude watched Daniel's sleek body gracefully exit the bed. Daniel Grimm had long legs, firm muscles, and flawless skin covered in a sheen of sweat. His long hair, hanging messily down his back, was the only hint of imperfection.

Claude couldn't stop watching him. He propped himself up to sitting position, legs hanging down the side, speechless.

Damn Daniel! Claude cursed and praised the day he met him. He reached over and flicked a small gold switch on the bedside lamp. Light scattered across the room, much brighter than Claude expected. This pleased him. This simple brass lamp was a six months of focused work. He had wanted a lamp that shown without adding any oil for days on end.

Claude glanced at his mechanical gadgets lining the shelves. Clocks that were more accurate than those used at sea; lenses that could see creatures so small no one would believe him if he told them they were there.

He never shared them with anyone, of course. Not with the townspeople and not with the other magical people that roamed the woods. Daniel was the first one he had invited in this secret room in the back of his shop.

Daniel, still completely naked, stretched and grabbed a towel. Claude was amazed at how completely at ease he was with his nudity. Not a hint of the shame Claude felt when he undressed. He watched Daniel walk over to the basin of cold water, dip in the towel, and wash his face clean.

"I have hot water," Claude stammered. He bit his lip and blinked his eyes. Looking at Daniel too long was like staring directly at the sun.

"Truly?" Daniel looked over at him.

"Reach for that lever over there," Claude lifted a hand and pointed, "No, further to your right." He watched Daniel fumble around near the set of gears. It was confusing, Claude knew. The brass and steel contraptions he worked on were sometimes hastily designed.

Daniel pulled the lever. There was the sound of clanging as the boiler heated up. Steam came out of the top of the funnel.

"This looks dangerous, Claude." Daniel backed up a little, wrapping the towel around his waist.

"It takes a few moments," Claude swung his legs off the bed. His fixed his trousers, hands shaking as he went over to stand beside Daniel.

"I don't remember this device from the last time," Daniel said.

"It wasn't working then," Claude said. "It took me some time to do the modifications."

A few seconds later, water began to pour out of the spout. Daniel glanced at him—eyes wide. Claude nodded. Daniel reached one hand slowly under the spout. A smile spread across his face.

"Mr. Rumpel, you amaze with your inventions."

Claude was pleased. He was proud of his work. The gears and gadgets that he tinkered with each day were his source of pleasure. And now with the lucrative business he had—thanks to Daniel—he had the spare coin to spend on his inventions.

Daniel whipped the towel off. He splashed warm water over his face and slowly washed his body as best as he could.

Every inch of Daniel was muscular perfection. His cock, even flaccid, was an impressive sight. Claude felt his member harden with desire.

"I can't imagine what other inventions you can make. Although, I can think of nothing better than hot water in minutes." Daniel said. He pulled on his breeches and a cotton shirt.

Claude smiled.

"There are other things as impressive but I am hoping that someday there will be a way that anyone can have a hot water machine."

"Anyone? You mean even those who haven't any magic?" Daniel looked at Claude in utter disbelief.

"Of course," Claude said. "There will come a day when anyone will be capable of amazing feats and they won't need magic."

Daniel laughed. "I can't imagine such a world."

Claude sighed. Most people couldn't... even Claude had difficulty believing his own fanciful thoughts at time. Still, he there was a small whispering in his ear that told him that a world without magic would not be such a bad thing.

"In any world, magic or not, wealth makes it easier," Daniel said excitedly, "And as long as you keep spinning that gold thread, we are set to be very wealthy men."

"This does provide money for my inventions," Claude said.

"There's more where that came from. The Fae Princess Adorannette has personally requested twenty spools."

"Twenty spools?" Claude said in utter shock.

"Can you spin it?"

"Of course I can. But twenty spools?" Claude calculated the amount in his head. It was so much he almost felt faint.

"I tell you Claude, we are going to be as rich as kings," Daniel said, "and I consider myself fortunate to benefit from your magical skills as well as your more physical ones."

Daniel looked at Claude. It was then that Claude realized that his buttons were still undone. Frantically, he fixed his clothes.

Claude felt his face grow hot. "I... I..."

"You think I don't notice your cock?" Daniel sat in a chair and pulled on his boots. "It's the only part of you you'll let me see."

Claude stood there like a fool. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but all that came out was a pitiful little grunt. He went over to his machine, shutting down the dials, checking the steam valves were closed properly. Making himself busy with his contraptions hid his face.

"I notice you Claude Rumpel," Daniel said, "and some day you're going to strip all the way down for me and let me see you. You'll take those gloves off too."

Not the gloves, Claude thought, never the gloves.

"I'll come for more gold thread in a fortnight." Daniel glanced over in the direction of a small room off to the side.

"And I shall have it." Claude said, relieved at the change of subject.

"True, true, Claude Rumpel. You are a man of your word."

Daniel pulled on his outer cloak, put a hat on top of his head. Every move was so casual, as if their recent moments hadn't been filled with furious coupling.

Claude followed Daniel as he walked to the front where Daniel kept his shop. He hurried behind Daniel, closing the heavy wooden door and turning the steel locks in place. He then tugged with all his might to slide a heavy wooden wall down over the door. It looked as if it were just another wall. No one knew there was anything back here, save Daniel and himself. It had been his private place for his secret self but now doubled as a spot of their trysts.

Still, Claude was thankful it was night and no one passing by this far down the alleyway. Claude prized this location on the bare outskirts of Greenwood Cross. The village was large enough for the necessities of living comfortably—a reliable post, a decent butcher, and a well—stocked goods store. It also had the advantage of being relatively unimportant in the schemes of kings and armies. Claude's centuries of existence had made him wary of kings.

If a man wanted a life of obscurity, this village was a good choice.

But Daniel coming here always made him feel a tiny bit exposed. They had to be secretive. There were so many reasons why.

Daniel walked past the counter. There were still glasses set out, two containers of tinctures, and ledger left open. Daniel had come by unexpectedly and Claude had gotten too wrapped up in passion to attend to his shop.

Daniel's boot came down hard with a crunch.

"Sorry, Claude." Daniel said.

"I'll clean it." It was just a small jar, nothing significant.

"We'll have to be more careful next time," Daniel said, "no more trying to mount me as soon as I walk in the door."

Claude's face flushed with embarrassment again. He was thankful Daniel couldn't see it in the dark.

"I will try to learn more control," Claude said. That would be hard—damned impossible. He could only stifle a sigh as Daniel walked out into the cold night air.

*~*~*

Claude could still bring up the memory of Daniel's warm body. The taste of their rough kisses lingered. When he'd first become human, Claude had been ill prepared for the depths of emotions that coursed through him.

He looked down at the gloves on his hands. Moved the fingers inside of them as a reminder of what he truly was.

Goblins had little need for contact—certainly not sexual desires. They cursed, toiled, ate and slept. He had been a goblin for many, many decades longing for little.

But things changed, and he'd become human. Life had been had been simpler before. Certainly, before he'd met Daniel.

He found a broom and swept the glass off the floor. He'd neglected to carry in his sign, but did so now. He braced open the door with the heel of one boot, and carried the heavy oak sign: RUMPEL GEARS AND GADGETS.

Underneath in smaller letters REPAIRS. Since Daniel had devised the plan of selling gold thread to the Fae nobility, Claude no longer needed the money from repairs.

There were firm locks on the door—not that anyone would dare break in. Claude had hired an enchanter put up wards that made the idea of entering off-putting to most humans. Proof enough that Daniel wasn't entirely human, because he'd had no trouble tracking Claude down that fateful day they'd first met.

Claude looked around the room. It needed a good dusting. There was an old wizard's chair in the left corner in dire need of a shine. The books on his shelves were a bit out of order.

Claude took a deep breath. He was stalling. The job needed to be done and he was the only one who could do it. The amount that Daniel had negotiated for gold thread was more than Claude could imagine. He could travel the world. He could make inventions.

And somewhere there might be a cure for his hands.

Claude walked over to a small cabinet behind the counter. He brushed a hand over it, saying the magic words. It swung open.

The bottle.

It was the easiest way to a full transformation. There was no way to spin gold without changing and his magic was too poor to force a transition without it.

He took the bottle. He pulled out the cork and took a sip before he could change his mind. He put it back and waited.

A spasm hit and he fell to his knees. His arms curled up near his chest, then stiffened. His neck dropped to the left shoulder. Claude bit his tongue with the surges of pain.

He was changing.

Claude hated this part. The sensation of sharp needles pushing against his skin made him frantic. The goblin hair was growing. Barely able to breathe amid the change, he struggled to force his arms to his sides.

Another spasm hit. His back jerked—forward, back, forward, back. He hunched over with the ugly lump now fully formed.

*~*~*

Claude the goblin stood in the entrance of the spinning room.

The spinning wheel stood in the corner beckoning like a mistress. It wasn't one of his steel and brass inventions. Oh no, it was ancient, deadly magic forged by hands that had never walked this human realm.

He'd grown to loathe the thing.

The magic pulsed from it. Now that Claude was his creature form, he could feel its power all the more. There was a lyrical tune spilling from its gears—the musical signature of whichever sorcerer had originally created it. He closed his eyes for a moment letting the music soothe him.

He had to finish spinning the straw into gold. Daniel said that he needed it soon, and Claude, admittedly, had little resistance to the spinning wheel's enchantment. There was time before dawn and he had work to do.

Claude's hands never changed. Whether man or goblin, they were still long dark bony talons. That was the curse of the spinning wheel. As long as the device existed, the claws would never change. A goblin was bound to its spinning wheel and the spinning wheel kept him a goblin.

At any rate, the long nimble fingers and dark talons were perfect for working.

Claude scampered over to the spinning wheel. He could see his grotesque shadow in the candlelight—a large lumbering thing with a hunched back. Claude sat down. He gathered together the hay and began to thumb it through the spinning needles. His goblin hands could work quickly this way. He whistled, humming his true name in time to the spinning wheel's music as he made quick work of the straw.

Straw and hay, thread and spin—on the floor beside him long strands of gold thread piled up and up.

Chapter Two

"Have you got the payment?" The troll's voice was so loud, the few thieves and pirates and various other denizens of the night actually stopped and looked in Daniel's direction.

Generally, Daniel loved an audience, but not right now.

He held out a bag of coins. Daniel didn't want to get any closer to the troll than he had too. The creature was foul with dirty, matted hair and a body stench that traveled in the night air. Daniel always reminded himself never to breathe deeply in the troll's presence.

"Madame will be pleased," the troll said, his genteel voice at complete odds with his outward appearance.

"Give Maleadora my regards," Daniel replied.

"You can do so for yourself," said the troll, completely disregarding—or perhaps oblivious to—Daniel's sarcasm.

Daniel raised an eyebrow.

"Pardon?"

"Your last payment. Madame would like you to make it personally."

Daniel began to feel slightly ill. "But I thought I would just pay you and then you can turn over the item."

The troll shook his head. "Madame does not trust me with the item. She asks that you meet with her. Then an exchange will be made."

Daniel had not been expecting this. He knew that dealing with her was dangerous. The woman employed trolls—that was always a sign. Still, she was the only one who had what he wanted.

Daniel's thoughts turned to Claude. His partner was probably spinning gold thread at this very moment. Those spools sold to the faerie were giving Daniel the gold he needed to buy the item from the Madame. There was no way he stop now; he was so close.

"Fine. We can meet in town."

"Madame insists that you come to her residence."

Daniel's stomach rolled as if a pixie were flying around in it.

"The one in the wood?" Daniel said weakly.

"That one of course. Do you know of any other?" The troll folded his arms across his chest, nodded his head, and gave a little snort.

"Fine, then," Daniel said, knowing that it most certainly wasn't fine.

The troll stuffed the coin bag in its pocket. "I will find you and let you know the date and time."

"I await it most eagerly."

The troll laughed. It was an unpleasant sound—like a death rattle with bit of a 'ha ha ha' at the end of it. Daniel watched at the creature walked off the path and disappear into the night.

Daniel knew that he should go directly home, but now he desperately needed a drink.

Or two.

Or three.

*~*~*

A slightly drunk Daniel Grimm stood in front of the waterfall, getting wet from the mist.

Damn the troll. Damn the Madame.

At least there was Claude. The inventor, the magical worker, the surprisingly passionate lover—he was so many things. Daniel had never said it aloud, but the truth was he was in awe of Claude Rumpel.

"Stop that line of thinking, Daniel Grimm," Daniel spoke softly out loud in the night. He had a long term goal and no time to sacrifice it to lust.

Daniel tended to sacrifice a great many things to lust.

He looked behind once more to make sure no one had followed him out of town. It was unlikely, but one never knew.

Just a few months ago, a robber had followed his sister Giselle from town all the way to this point. The poor man probably thought a lone woman was an easy target. Giselle had made sure that he didn't get back alive to tell anyone about it.

Daniel didn't have the stomach for killing anyone. He had his flaws, but murderous instincts were not among them.

The moon was full above him. The night was silent, save for the screech of an owl in the distance. He half hoped that he might see signs of the Night Elves out for a sail across the moonlit river. That was not likely.

These days there were only the handful of magical misfits such as him and spoiled, greedy Faerie nobles wasting away their wealth.

Daniel took one quick glance to his left and another to his right. Certain that he was not being watched, he sang out the password.

The stream of water disappeared. There was a booming sound as the rocks split apart. An opening appeared, and Daniel stepped through.

Once on the other side, he looked up. The same moon. The same night sky. Even the sound of an owl was the same. It was veiled territory. That was the only way they could protect themselves after the magical Scourge Wars. Daniel had no idea how many other veiled estates were out there; his family was not the only sorcerer lineage in these parts. But the Grimm family had, unquestionably, been the strongest. He had tried to find some information on the fate of others—but the magical creatures that existed out and about now were careful, timid, constantly hiding. Like Claude.

Or dark and dangerous and best left hidden.

In front of him was the estate. A large castle surrounded by four gardens now mainly gone wild. The castle was empty, as were the stables, and the kitchen house, and the servant quarters. There were not enough servants or staff to keep the grand castle open, so for now they—Daniel, his sister Giselle, and brother Sebastian when he was in residence—all lived in two little cottages back behind to old stables. Cousin Mary and her companion did most of the day work and they lived in a hut further out in the wood.

To the left of the estate was the dragon hold—a long, square stone fortress with gold locks. In the old days, all the great sorcerer families kept a dragon. Daniel would spend hours out near the dragon hold with his father, Count Grimm. They didn't have the closest relationship; the Count's wife despised bastard Daniel and his Elven mother, but they were both men with a keen love of the magnificence of dragons. Daniel loved to pet the mighty creatures, to watch them fly, and someday hoped to ride one.

If there was anything that could recapture the glory of the Grimm lineage, it would be having a dragon here once again.

Daniel had a plan for that.

He trudged through the gardens and back to their temporary housing.

The cottages were cramped. On cold days, it smelled like onions from constantly boiling stew. On hot days, it stank of cattle and sweat. Daniel wished it smelled of perfumes or baked bread or even the tinctures of Claude's shop.

Cousin Mary was there. She greeted him with a tired smile and the nod of her head. She couldn't speak—not since some witch had stolen her tongue.

"Daniel," a voice called out lazily from the side. "I didn't think you'd come back. Claude let you go?"

His elder sister Giselle slinked out of the shadows. Giselle was every bit as tall as Daniel; but where he was fair-haired, she was raven dark. She was the mirror of her twin brother, Sebastian, who was as always off on some adventure. Daniel never really understood his siblings. Their mother hadn't been the Count's wife either. Probably some other magical creature the Count had trapped to sire a powerful heir.

A nasty bit of business was old Count Grimm, but he was their father.

Giselle wore a heavy men's apron over her frock. Her hair was messy and she'd clearly been working.

"I'm back because I'm done for the evening." Daniel said.

"I'm sure you are." Giselle said, "And what have you and the goblin been up to?"

"Spinning gold."

"Is that what they call it now?" Giselle said loudly.

Mary's cheeks turned red with embarrassment as she left the room.

"Giselle, you bother Mary with such crude talk", Daniel took off his coat and his shoes. He sat at the table.

"She's no innocent. Besides you smell of sex." Giselle sat down opposite him.

"I care for Mary ," Daniel said, "I don't enjoy making her feel uncomfortable."

"I care for her too," Giselle said.

Daniel snorted. Giselle made no bones of the fact that she considered Cousin Mary a distant cousin—and treated her like a servant. She meant no ill will; that was just Giselle's way.

Daniel ate a spoonful of Mary's soup. It was surprisingly good. Somehow Mary managed to make simple vegetables into a feast with her meager foraging in the woods.

"How much gold thread has been spun?" Giselle asked.

"Enough," Daniels said, concentrating more on the soup than Giselle.

"Are you still keeping secret what you intend to do with that fortune the two of you are amassing?" Giselle asked.

"It's hardly a fortune," Daniel said.

"I'm no fool, Daniel. I know the Fae and their obsession with extravagant things. They are paying you vast amounts just to strut around in pure gold cloaks and the like."

"I'm going to use the money to help the family."

"I suspect this help consists of new clothes? Some trips to travel and gamble and fornicate to your heart's content?" Giselle laughed.

"Actually," Daniel said, "I have larger goals."

"Really?"

Daniel put his soup spoon down. "I want to do something to restore the family's honor." He said with all the pride he could muster.

"Isn't family honor Sebastian's job?" Giselle said. She poured a mug of beer for each of them and gulped hers down. Daniel thought of reminding her that none of the women in town would guzzle beer like a sailor, but it was useless getting Giselle to conform.

Daniel left his beer untouched. "I... intend to breed dragons." He left the words hang there.

Giselle paused. She lifted an eyebrow. "You intend to breed dragons?"

"Yes."

"You?"

"That is what I said." Daniel grabbed his mug and nervously took a drink.

Giselle laughed.

"Daniel, what on earth, heaven, and all the worlds in between makes you think you can breed dragons?"

"I have the means to acquire a dragon egg," Daniel said, "And I will start my own herd."

"I know the details," Giselle said, "what I meant was, well, Daniel you're not really right kind for dragons."

"I have a plan."

"Sebastian, now, Sebastian could breed dragons. That's the sort of thing he does."

"I am just as capable as Sebastian."

Giselle sighed. "Daniel, raising dragons—how you even intend to find dragon eggs is anyone's guess—is not in your capabilities."

The words stung. Giselle didn't have to say it because they both knew what it meant. Daniel didn't have the power of magic working like Giselle or Sebastian. His mother had been an Elf, but not a sorceress.

"It's my plan. I have the coin," His voice sounded weaker than he would have liked, "Besides, Claude has provided almost all that we need."

"You should trap him," Giselle's voice was tinged with excitement.

"No."

"Goblins were bred to be ensorcelled." Giselle got out of her seat and stood up. She waved her hands around in a circle weaving a light ball of magic. She let it go and they both watched it dance around the room.

Mary peeped in, took one look around, and fled back out.

"We could use a creature like him. Think of how useful he could be," Giselle said.

"Giselle." Daniel said with warning in his voice.

Daniel knew full well that Giselle imagined herself the powerful ruler of her own kingdom. She played at being the odd little forest witch, but Daniel knew she was far more ambitious than she let on.

"I think having a goblin makes more sense than raising dragons," Giselle said.

"We'll talk no more of this," Daniel drank down the rest of his beer. Giselle refilled her mug and then his. They drank in silence.

"I see you've been working today," Daniel said, eager for a change of subject.

Giselle gave him an evil grin. "I have been working on an old spell of mother's."

She pulled something out of her pocket and set it on the table.

"It's an apple," Daniel said.

"Not any apple," she said. "One bite of this and a victim falls into a sleep so deep it looks like death." Her grin was triumphant.

"Lovely, just lovely, Giselle."

Daniel looked around. Mary had wandered back in and set to work cleaning the plates. He half listened as Giselle prattled on about curses and poisonings and her latest spells.

There was something off about Mary doing all this work… alone.

"Mary, where's Alice?" Daniel asked.

Mary gave him a sad look. She held up her hands and signed. "Sick."

"Since when?"

"Two days," Mary signed again.

Daniel turned to Giselle. "Did you know about this?"

"Alice's illness?" Giselle said, pouring more beer and not bothering to look up.

"Yes," Daniel bit his lip to hide his exasperation.

"I think she has a cough or something." Giselle said.

"Have you been to check?"

"I'm a witch, not a healer." Giselle was clearly uninterested. Daniel knew he'd have to check on his own.

Chapter Three

"Take me to her, Mary," Daniel said.

Mary nodded. The lines around her eyes smoothed out as relief spread across her face. No doubt, she'd been worried. If she'd ventured asking Giselle for help it had been useless. Poor Mary. Poor Alice. Daniel resolved to look out for them more.

Daniel followed his cousin out of the cottage. He pulled his cloak closer as cold night winds whipped through the air. Mary had only a thin apron and wooden shoes but still walked quickly across the field in the dark night. Her wood sprite blood made her more at home in the outdoors than in the main castle.

Daniel loved the natural world too—after all, Elves were supposed to thrive in it—but he didn't have Mary's surety of foot in the dark. He stumbled over some twigs and branches. He scraped his knees against something sharp. His boots stepped into something that made a horrid squishy sound. Daniel prayed he never found out what that had been.

It didn't take long to arrive at the hut Mary and Alice used as their residence. The spires of the castle could still be seen, but it was far enough back to be private from the outside world.

The light of the candles glowed in the windows. A wind rustled the curtains. The smoke of a fire spiraled up lazily from the chimney. It was so... domestic. Daniel wished for a second he could stay out here rather than with Giselle.

Mary murmured an incantation and the door swung open. Daniel graciously stepped aside, and ushered Mary in first. After all, he was a Count's son and a gentlemen. She rewarded him with a grateful nod and a soft smile.

It was as beautiful inside their cottage as it had been peering through the window. Fresh flowers were set out along the tables. The soft light of the candles highlighted a few sketches on the walls. There were books and numerous pieces of pottery all neatly arranged along shelves. It was cozy, warm, and loved.

Mary went quickly to a small room in the back and Daniel followed.

Alice lay in her bed. It was low to the floor, not terribly sturdy, but Alice was a wisp of a thing. She was a flower sprite, even smaller than her wood sprite lover. A blanket covered her and she was turned to the wall, resting.

"Alice?" Daniel said softly. He approached the bed with slow, careful steps as if too much noise might harm her. All sprites had fierce magic but they were delicate.

Daniel reached out and gently patted her arm. The blanket was too thin. He'd fetch a thicker one from the main house tonight and make sure to buy a proper one in town in the morning.

"Lord Grimm," she turned her head and gave a weak smile. She looked for an instant much like Mary—same small frame and wide eyes. Daniel wondered if it were true that couples began to look alike over time. Mary and Alice were the closest thing he'd ever seen to true love. His father's marriages had clearly never approached love. Giselle had many suitors, but was probably not capable of love. Sebastian was in love with his own reflection.

And Daniel, well, lust was more his field of expertise.

Alice sat up and coughed. Mary raised a cup of water to her lips.

"Mary tells me you're sick," Daniel said.

"It hurts Lord Grimm," she sputtered out after her cough had abated.

"Call me Daniel," he was always slightly embarrassed when Alice was formal. He was the Count's son, but he'd never done anything that made him deserve to be a 'Lord'.

Daniel rolled up her sleeves. Red blotches formed angry lines up and down her arms.

"How did this happen?" Daniel asked.

Alice coughed again, and lay back down, exhausted.

"We ventured out into the wood one day to forage," Alice winced as he touched one of the scabs, "and ran into an old Witches' garden."

That was possible. After the Scourge Wars, many of the High Witches had abandoned their covens. This Witch must have left so quickly she failed to destroy her magical herbs.

"I haven't been able to do my work," Alice said, sounding apologetic even though she had been the one suffering.

"Don't you worry about that. I can help," Daniel said. He looked over at Mary. "Give me a knife."

Mary shook her head frantically.

"I want to do this," Daniel said. He may not have the magical skill of Giselle or the heroic nature of Sebastian, but he could be of use.

Mary handed him the knife. Daniel grimaced as he sliced into his own palm. He held his hand over Alice's arms letting drops of blood spill down onto her skin.

The effects were immediate. Even Daniel was awed by how quickly it worked. His blood, his Elven heritage, was like an elixir across the flower sprite's skin. The angry pustules began to clear up.

He squeezed his hand for more blood to come out.

Watching his own blood dripping out was not something that he enjoyed. He would look away, but then he wouldn't be able to see Alice heal. Even he marveled at watching magic happen right before his eyes.

After a few moments, he was done. Daniel turned away from the bedside. Mary handed him a towel, which he wrapped around his hand. He could ask Giselle to help him bandage it properly later.

"Thank you, Daniel," he heard Alice whisper weakly.

Daniel's felt the heat rise in his cheeks, knowing he was flush with embarrassment. Alice was always too fulsome in her praise.

He nodded and plopped down in the nearest chair.

"You should be fine in the morning," Daniel said.

Alice reached out and Mary rushed to clutch her hand. There was no sound except Alice's soft sighs. Daniel wasn't entirely sure how to behave. He thought to leave, but somehow didn't want the sounds of his footfalls to ruin the moment.

So he didn't.

Chapter Four

Daniel woke the next morning with a headache. He grunted and rolled over, realizing too late that he'd fallen asleep on the table as he fell to the floor.

He cursed. Falling on a stone floor was not an auspicious start to the day. He'd come back drained after Alice's healing and Giselle insisted she had a potion that would work wonders.

Wretched Giselle and her concoctions.

Daniel pulled himself upright. Every joint screamed in agony. He held out his left arm and gave it a shake. Thank the gods the bones seemed to all be in order. He did the same with his right. It was only at that point that he caught a glimpse of himself in a broken piece of mirror Mary kept over the doorway to ward off vampires.

He looked ridiculous.

He stopped the shaking.

Even worse, he looked a mess. Daniel hated that.

Mary came to the door, gave him a quizzical look, and laid a bucket and a towel on the table.

"Thank you with many blessings, Mary," Daniel said.

He grabbed the towel to wipe his face. As the cold water hit him, he thought for just a moment how nice it would be to have one of Claude's hot water inventions.

"Is Alice better?"

Mary nodded. A gentle expression eased across her face. For a moment, she looked so much younger and so much more alive.

Ah, love.

"Is Giselle about?" Daniel asked.

Mary shook her head. She made a rapid sign with her hands.

"Gone out in the woods, has she?"

Mary nodded. She reached into the cabinet and pulled out a stack of plates.

"Anyone with her?" Daniel braced himself for the answer.

Mary set the plates down on the table. She mimed an elongated gesture from her nose out to the air in front of her. Long nose. She cupped her hands around her eyes. Big eyes. She opened her mouth and bared her teeth. Long teeth.

"Lucius," Daniel said. "If she's off with him again it could be no good."

Mary gave a wry smile and nodded.

"I can only hope they'll be more discreet this time."

Mary shook her head, this time in pity.

Daniel had vivid memories of the man-beast wailing and his own sister's cries of ecstasy as they frolicked out in the abandoned barn, of all places. There were times when Elven hearing was a curse.

Daniel didn't care for that man-beast Lucius. Nor did he care for the wild-eyed hunter she sometimes spent her nights with. If the Count were still alive, Giselle would have been married off to some properly raised nobleman by now.

More than likely, she would have swiftly arranged to be the rich widow of some properly raised nobleman, but at least she would have conformed for a time.

Daniel sighed. It wasn't his place to control Giselle. It wasn't his place to take care of Alice and Mary or to do anything at all. Yet, lately he had felt as if the Grimm family was sinking into quicksand, and it was left up to him to take action.

Mary busied herself with the morning breakfast, gliding past Daniel as she set out platters and mugs. The rooster crowed in the distance. The birdsong of early morning drifted through the windows.

"I won't be eating today, Mary, I have to set out early."

She cocked her head, blinking her eyes. Her brows creased with concern.

"There's no need to worry. I'll be back by nightfall and check on Alice again."

She moved her hands up and down, signing worry. She pointed at him.

"You don't need to worry about me," Daniel said as he turned away. He gathered his boots from the corner. He had to make himself presentable before heading into town.

With luck, Claude would have the bolts of thread almost ready.

He could assure Princess Adoranette that it was coming and confirm the payment.

Then… he just had to wait until he was summoned to see Maleadora.

Maleadora. The Old Hag. A shiver ran up his spine thinking about her. Her payments had been extravagant. But she was the only one he could find who had a dragon egg and was willing to sell. There was no guarantee that it would breed a dragon—that was the risk.

In years of searching, however, it was the closest he had ever come.

*~*~*

Greenwood Cross was a growing town, past the point of being considered a country village. It was nothing like the territories the Grimm's had once ruled over—at least according to Giselle. Daniel had been too young to take much notice of things outside the castle grounds before the Scourge Wars.

He went past the shops and down the streets. Many of the women, and a few of the men, gave him soft looks of desire. The probably weren't even aware that they were doing it—the curving lips, the lifting of the eyebrows, the quick run of the tongue across hungry lips.

Daniel could keep his Elven glamour in check by abstinence. He loathed that option. The minute he'd found Claude, he'd forgone any thoughts of that. Daniel had expected that the goblin would have human form; but never that it would be quite so well formed.

Broad shoulders, deep voice, taut muscles.

Daniel knew that he and Claude were only business partners. Claude spun the thread, Daniel sold it. The fact that things had been heating up between them… well, that must only be the glamour. As soon as he Daniel had enough coin to purchase a dragon's egg, his goblin lover would likely disappear into the night.

Daniel's relationships never lasted long.

Daniel continued past the bakery, the butcher, the clothier, the shoemaker, and several vegetable stands. A church and a schoolhouse stood parallel across the town center marked by a large stone fountain carved into a man on horseback. It was Daniel's great-great-great-grandfather, the Third Count Grimm, though no one else in town was likely aware of that.

Daniel kept walking until he came to a dark, narrow alleyway leading away from the town center. He sighed with relief. This was the way to Claude's shop.

Chapter Five

Daniel stared up at the simple sign hanging on the door read RUMPEL GEARS AND GADGETS. The windows were covered with black curtains and the heavy, wooden door looked equally uninviting. Some dried onions wrapped in cheesecloth, with a bag of amulets hung just over the door. Claude had told Daniel it was there to keep out vampires, but the smell alone could keep almost anyone away.

The lock was made of iron. Humans would think nothing of it, but Daniel did. He had enough Elven blood for it to burn his skin.

It was a dark, disturbing little storefront. Townspeople seldom came down this alleyway even in broad daylight.

"Claude Rumpel," Daniel called out.

"Come in."

Daniel opened his satchel. He pulled out a heavy cloth and wrapped it around his right hand to keep his skin from making contact with the iron. Pushing his shoulder against the door, and his elbow against the top of the lock, he managed to pry it open. Luckily, it was more for show than security. Magical people always had magical wards.

The lock gave way. Daniel pushed open the door.

Despite its foreboding look on the outside, the shop was remarkably clean inside. All the items were neatly arranged. There was not a speck of dust; there was no rust on the pots; no dander on the furniture fabrics; nor streaks on the windows. Even the horrible onion smell never penetrated the inside.

It smelled of cleaning oil with a hint of exotic spices.

"Just a moment, Daniel. I'm coming." Claude's deep voice boomed through the room. Daniel could hear the sounds of turning. The spinning wheel? He thought about looking, wandering what it would be to see Claude's large bear-like frame hunched over hay, spinning gold.

Maybe it was best not to look.

Daniel sat down on a stool by the counter. It was long, covering half the room, too big really for the space, but clean and orderly. It was heavy, old wood with deep grooves. The latticework was an elaborate design of old Greek gods and goddess cavorting in gardens. This counter was finer than anything these townspeople would own; and likely worth more than all they possessed.

Claude had secrets.

The ledger was still open. The cash machine locked. The abacus sat by the side.

On the side of the room were Claude's projects—chairs, chests, low tables. They were polished, repaired, and ready to be returned to their owners. Daniel had asked Claude once how he managed to get all this done and the man had just sighed and said, "Time. There is always more time."

Claude was one for cryptic answers.

"Would you care for some tea, Mr. Grimm?" Claude came from the back room carrying a dainty porcelain platter with teacups and a teapot. It was incongruous to see such large, gloved hands carrying such a delicate object. Claude refused to remove the gloves even when they were intimate. He claimed they were scarred in a terrible accident. Daniel had his doubts.

"I think we're beyond the point of you calling me Mr. Grimm."

"Of course, Daniel." Claude poured them some tea.

Daniel noticed Claude's gait.

"You are limping," Daniel said.

"An old injury."

"I've never noticed it before."

"It irritates me in poor weather," Claude mumbled.

"The weather is wonderful outside," Daniel said.

"A storm is coming. I can feel it in my bones." Claude wouldn't look him in the eye, so Daniel got quiet and drank his tea.

"Are you almost finished?" Daniel didn't feel he needed to say the words. They both knew what the question was about.

"Two more nights," Claude answered.

"Can I see what you have now?" Daniel asked.

"Of course, Mr. Grimm," Claude paused, "Daniel."

Claude opened the counter and Daniel slipped through, bumping into Claude. They were the same height, but Claude was firmer and broader. He smelled like clean soap and fresh hay. Daniel believed it was his Elven senses that latched onto the hay scent—soil and plants and grass and all the wild things that were his birthright.

He followed Claude into a small room in the back. It was little bigger than a closet. Both men had to squeeze themselves in. Daniel was aware of Claude's body pressed against him.

"These are five spools," Claude said. He pointed to a shelf, "And over there, several more."

"All real gold."

"Of course." It had to be. The Fae would know real gold thread from fake easily.

"How is it that so much gold can be light to carry?"

"It is spell worked. As light as cloth, but pure gold it is."

"Two more nights then," Daniel said. "I need to make arrangements." He turned. They were packed so tightly together that as soon as he turned he was pressed, chest to chest, against Claude.

There was a rush of lust. Images of their last tryst came back to him.

He hadn't expected such passion from Claude—the tight grip, the hot bites that doubled as kisses. Daniel had had many lovers. None had treated his body with such intense focus.

He shivered.

He was keenly aware of Claude's body pressed against him.

"You're one of the few who's ever known of my true nature," Claude's breath was hot against Daniel's neck as he spoke.

"I consider myself lucky," Daniel replied. He took Claude's mouth in a deep kiss.

He felt Claude go rigid for just a second as if he were shocked by the sudden contact. Probably, as it was the first time Daniel had initiated a kiss. Even Daniel was surprised by his sudden ardor. Desire was racing up and down his body from the top of his head to the tingling in his loins.

"It's daylight," Claude gasped out as soon as Daniel released his kiss, "someone may come by."

"Do they ever?"

"No."

Daniel embraced Claude again. He needed Claude. He wanted Claude to take him. He moved his hands down the front of Claude's breeches and his lover gave out a deep, primal moan.

"Don't stop, please," Claude was staring at him now, desire burning in his eyes. He grabbed Daniel's arm. Through the gloves Daniel could feel a vice-like grip.

It was frightening and intriguing. Daniel had a bit of a darker sexual desire inside him, wanting to mix pleasure with a little bit of pain. He had kept that buried deep, but the sharp feel from Claude's gloves bought those dangerous desires to the surface.

He pushed it back down. Not yet. Not yet.

Still, Daniel needed what only Claude could give him.

They fumbled out the door, back into the main shop room. The windows were still covered, but daylight shone through cracks. Daniel could hear voices and footfalls outside.

Risky, but that only excited Daniel more.

Claude's hands were firm on Daniel's shoulders as he bent him over the counter. Claude was always forceful, but never cruel. Claude's gloved hands were all over Daniel's body, running through his hair, grabbing at his waist, pulling at his pants.

The anticipation was wearing thin. Each part of Daniel's skin was alive with heat. He was caught in his own glamour.

Daniel jerked his head, bit his lip, as Claude thrust into him.

Daniel moaned and Claude grunted in a twisted dance of ecstasy. Claude's lustful savagery with his body was the only thing that could quench the thirst in Daniel's body. Daniel bit his tongue to quiet himself down. He gritted his teeth letting little gasps of air escape. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. Daniel raised his head just a little to look towards the windows and see a stream of light coming in from the outside.

He was on the edge of exploding. Claude's large frame began to shake as he was reaching his own climax.

Daniel grabbed onto the table, bracing himself. Claude was braced against him, hands digging into his waist. Daniel closed his eyes and gave himself over to passion.

Chapter Six

"I can wash and repair them for you," Claude said. He took Daniel's torn breeches and balanced precariously on one of the counter stools.

Daniel nodded a meek thanks. He wore an old pair of Claude's breeches and a cotton shirt. Claude was taller and larger around than he, so describing the clothes as loose would be generous. Daniel almost felt as if he were dressed in bed sheets. Still, Daniel tucked in the shirt and pulled a cord belt around—twice—managing to look presentable.

"Your clothes are well made," Claude remarked. He paused as he looked closely at the shirt in his hands. "This thread..."

Claude looked up at Daniel, realization apparent in his gaze.

"This is Elven thread."

"Yes."

"Real Elven thread," Claude said the excitement apparent in his voice.

"I inherited some of my grandfather's things from my mother."

Claude seemed completely fascinated by clothes in his hands. He looked over at Daniel, his brows furrowed.

"It has been at least a century since I've seen such fine work," Claude spoke in low tones, "There are few who can weave as fine as Elves anymore." Claude held the shirt up, turning it this way and that.

"Remarkable," Claude said.

Daniel snorted. "This from a man who can weave straw into gold."

Claude shook his head without looking up. "That is only a curse borne of trickery." He laid the shirt gently on the counter. "This is the remnant of a fine heritage."

"I know little of the Elves, save my mother's fabricated stories of plates made of silver and floors made of glass," Daniel replied.

"They are no exaggeration. I visited an Elven court once," Claude said.

"Truly?" Daniel found it difficult to imagine Claude walking around an Elven Court. Claude's bulk alone was likely to break a glass floor. Not that Daniel minded. He adored Claude's bulk.

"Yes," Claude said, "But I was a goblin then."

Naturally. Daniel's cheek grew hot with shame, embarrassed by his earlier thoughts. "And may I ask why you were at an Elven court?"

Claude sat back, almost falling off the stool. He grabbed at the counter to balance himself. There was silence for a second. Then he spoke, "I was… summoned."

"By whom?"

"I had dealings with an Elven mage. Or rather, he had need of me."

Daniel sat down beside him. "An Elven mage? I thought Elves had no magic."

"Are you telling me you have no magic?"

"I have the glamour. But that's not working magic. That just the way I'm made, so to speak."

"Daniel, Elven mages have, had, powerful magic. They were expert magic workers. Cruel even." Claude's voice dropped.

"Did this mage harm you?" It was odd, seeing Claude with fear in his eyes.

"Maybe I will tell that tale some other day." Claude stood up quickly. Daniel wanted to know more, but thought it not the best time to press the issue.

There was an uncomfortable silence as Claude went to the back room. A few minutes later, he returned with the breeches.

Daniel had no idea how he managed to do it so rapidly, particularly with the gloves, but the goblin was a mystery.

"I will be gone for a day or so," Daniel said, "but I will come back for the thread."

"You have business to attend to?"

"Yes, arrangements must be made."

"Does this concern the thread I spin for the Lady Adoranette?" Claude asked. He gave the breeches a firm shake like Daniel had seen housemaids do, and set them on the counter.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Daniel grabbed the breeches and gleefully shed the potato sack replacements he'd been wearing.

"And this will be all the thread you will need?"

"For the Lady, the twenty will be sufficient."

"Then perhaps after that, we could cease making the thread," Claude said.

Daniel looked at him, "Why?"

"If you have all you need, I wish to stop."

"There are many more customers Claude," Daniel said panic rising in his voice. "We could be wealthy men."

"I do not need to be wealthy," Claude said flatly.

Daniel was stunned. Things had been going so well with this business venture, and Claude wanted it to end? It made no sense.

"I suppose after the twenty spools, I will have enough money," Daniel said the words slowly.

"Good then," Claude said briskly, "I hope that you have a sufficient amount saved. Should you want advice on investments, I have contacts in banking." Claude was back to his cold, methodical shopkeeper manner. As if he had not just shocked Daniel with a sudden end to their business venture.

That was all it was, of course, a business venture. Daniel could not reasonably expect Claude to want to work with him forever. They weren't even friends, really, when one thought about it.

"I don't need investments," Daniel said, "I have a treasure that I am purchasing."

"It is a secret?" Claude asked.

"I can tell you if you're curious," Daniel loved dangling the secret out there, seeing if Claude would take the bait.

"I am curious."

Daniel turned and stared deeply into Claude's eyes. "A magical curiosity. You would love to see it, Claude."

"Tell me," Daniel could hear the excitement in Claude's voice.

"A dragon egg," Daniel said.

He let the words hang out there in the air. It took on a life of its own and echoed against the walls.

"A dragon egg," Claude's voice was filled with wonder. He watched as the brawny goblin man walked to the side of the room and began to fuss about his bookshelves. He pulled out a tome. It was large, old, dusty. Browned with gold leafing on the spine. The title was a script that Daniel didn't recognize.

"Are you familiar with this?" Claude pointed to the title.

"I'm not much of a scholar." Daniel saw no point in lying. Reading was never one of his pursuits.

Claude continued on, opening the tome and looking through pages. "I have several books on dragons," Claude said. He went back to the bookshelf and set another one down on the counter with a thud. "If you tell me what kind of dragon egg you are procuring, perhaps I can help you with its breeding."

Daniel shrugged. "I was unaware there were differences in dragon eggs."

"Not the egg per se, but the difference in the dragon breed that will hatch," Claude explained, "Is it a white dragon perhaps? A silver one?"

Daniel shook his head in confusion. "I have no idea."

"Male or female?" Claude asked, more insistently.

"Does it make a difference?"

"Female dragons are rare; easier to train because they don't blow fire."

"I would like to avoid fire." Daniel said.

"But, female dragons don't take well to captivity. They are known to drown themselves rather than continue such an existence." Claude said with authority.

"Male then, I hope," Daniel wasn't interested in a suicidal dragon. He was certain that would not be helpful in restoring the Grimm family reputation.

"A silver dragon would be your best choice. They like jewels and finery," Claude said. "Be careful though. They're intelligent and cunning."

"I can handle any dragon tricks," Daniel said with more confidence than he felt.

"And how will you go about procuring this dragon egg?" Claude asked.

"I know someone who is willing to sell," Daniel said.

"Who?" Claude said as he reached into a drawer. He pulled out a pair of spectacles and set them on the edge of his nose.

They slid down and he clumsily tried to adjust them.

Daniel reached over and gently pushed the spectacles back up the bridge of his nose.

"You should remove those clumsy gloves of yours."

"I can't. My hands are injured."

"They were not too injured to fix these breeches," Daniel remarked. Claude glared at him.

"Do not concern yourself with my hands," Claude answered.

"You can't possibly spin gold with gloves on."

"I said, do not concern yourself."

"Now who has secrets?" Daniel said bluntly.

Claude turned away. "There are few who possess a dragon's egg," Claude said, "Around here, I can't imagine who would."

Daniel weighed the pros and cons of telling him. He had no idea how Claude would react, but generally once they heard the name of his contact anyone would react poorly. He hadn't even told Giselle.

"I have a special contact."

"Whom?"

"Miss Maleadora," Daniel said looking at the floor.

"Miss Maleadora?" Claude's voice a mix of astonishment and anger, "the Olde Hag?"

"I know what she is," Daniel replied sounding petulant to his own ears. He cringed inwardly.

"Then you know it dangerous to deal with her. She's..."

"A mix of a witch and ogre. I know. I can deal with her. She has a dragon's egg and I have payment that she wants."

Claude sighed. "She's more than a mix of witch and ogre, trust me. Darker things lurk in her heart."

"I have to do this."

Claude fixed his eyes on Daniel. "Her usual price is a sacrifice," Claude enunciated each word like tiny arrows piercing the skin.

"Not this time. She has agreed to an amount I am willing to pay," Daniel answered. What kind of creature did Claude think he was?

"I've never known her to be so reasonable," Claude's gaze never relented. He didn't blink.

"Claude, it's none of your concern."

"It isn't, but I want it to be." Claude said the last words in a whisper but Daniel heard him. He pretended like he didn't.

"At least let me come with you," Claude said.

Daniel shook his head.

Claude moved closer to him. "I know the Olde Hag. I know her ways. I can tell if she is tricking you."

It was very possible that Claude did know about her. Goblins and ogres were of a kind.

"I don't want anyone else involved."

"But I can be of help."

"Why? Just a few moments ago, you wished to end our association, did you not?"

Claude's nostrils flared in and out. "I only wished to cease spinning."

"If you cease spinning, we have no more business. Ergo, our association comes to an end," Daniel said.

"Is that how you feel, Mr. Grimm? No need to associate with the goblin once the work is done?"

It sounded harsh when Claude said it that way. "I only meant since our relationship is largely business, and the business has ended, then it would seem that the association would also…" Daniel couldn't look Claude in the eye as he said it.

"I see," Claude said. If words could sound like stones being dropped on a floor, that would be the tone that Daniel heard now.

There was silence. Daniel tried to push back the too recent memories of Claude's hands on his body.

That was just glamour, nothing more.

"I am not in need of your assistance," Daniel said.

Silence.

"I like to keep business partnerships strictly business," Daniel said with more conviction than he felt. "It's not necessary for you to spend your time on my personal endeavors."

Silence.

Claude was standing there, face unreadable. His gloves hands were crossed in front. Nothing shown in his eyes.

"If there is no more to discuss, I'll be leaving then," Daniel put on his coat and picked up his satchel. He headed to the door, stepped just outside it and looked back.

Claude finally moved. He looked at Daniel with a stare that made his spine grow cold.

"Goodbye, Mr. Grimm," Claude said.

The door slammed shut.

Chapter Seven

There were times when Daniel realized that he was in over his head.

This was one of those times.

The troll was here, behind the wards, beyond the waterfall. That was not a good sign.

Daniel had made many mistakes in the last twenty-four hours.

"I knew you'd be surprised to see me," the troll said. He had sat himself at the table and helped himself to the beer. Cousin Mary hands were trembling as she set out more food on the table. The troll ate it with his hands, shoving it down his throat.

If such a creature had a throat, Daniel thought. All he could see was an overly large head on shoulders—like boulders stacked one upon another. .

"How did you find my home?"

"Her lady makes it her business to know her potential customers well," the Troll said, "especially if they wish to acquire one of her lady's specialty items."

"I am bringing her the monies," Daniel said. "I have one more sale to make which will be the complete amount. Miss Maleadora does not need to worry about that."

The troll laughed and slammed his hand against the table. "Lady worries about nothing, elf. It's you who needs to worry. Why, she could sell the item to a thousand different buyers, but she decided to sell it to you. She expects you to buy it."

The last bit sounded like a threat to Daniel's ear, but then everything the troll said sounded like a threat.

Giselle had left. Sebastian was still off on a quest. All that was here to protect Mary, Alice, and the estate was Daniel.

That thought depressed even him.

"What if I were to give a small gift of good faith?" Daniel said. He tried a smile, but it failed. "Let's see... We have..." He looked desperately around the room for something that might be of interest to an ancient magical ogre witch. There wasn't much to choose from in a kitchen.

"She won't want any of this," the troll said, "so you may as well not waste your time."

"I could check the attic."

"Anything she wanted, she could steal from a thousand old sorcerer families. You lot are all over the place. No, if you want to appease her, you need something magic."

"I don't do magic. Giselle will return in a few days. Perhaps then..."

The troll banged the table again and Daniel went silent.

"You have elf blood. She would like that."

Mary looked up then, frantically shaking her head.

Daniel turned away. Yes, it would be foolish. Yes, blood payments never turned out well. He shook away those thoughts. Realistically, what choice did he have? He was going to handle things. He was going to get that dragon egg.

"A small sample," Daniel said, "that should be sufficient."

His shoes felt as if they were made of lead as he walked over to the pantry. Daniel took out a knife, and with a quick slash, cut into his skin.

He let a few drops spill into a bottle.

"Here," Daniel felt sick but he refused to let it show. "Take this to Maleadora. Tell her my word is good."

The troll grabbed the bottle and smiled. He smiled at Mary too, but she looked him full in the face and glared at him.

He stomped out.

As soon as Daniel could no longer hear the troll's footfalls, he collapsed down into a chair.

"Beer," he called, holding out a hand, expecting it to be filled with a mug.

There was nothing. He looked up. Mary was glaring at him.

Daniel sighed.

"You don’t approve of what I have done," Daniel said.

"No," Mary signed. Her fingers were always more rapid when she was angry. "You should never make a blood bargain with creatures like that."

"I had to let Miss Maleadora know I intend to go through with our deal."

"You have no business making deals with her." Mary was obviously still angry. "How could you be so foolish?"

"What’s done is done." He stood up and poured his own beer.

"Wait and take Giselle with you," Mary signed.

"I can’t. And you know Giselle, she would only mock me."

"You need someone who can do magic," Mary said. She stopped and drummed her fingers on the table. She started signing again, "I’ll ask Alice."

"No," Daniel said. He had just healed Alice. He wasn’t going to put her at risk.

"Then what about your friend, Mr. Rumpel?"

"We are business partners."

Mary narrowed her eyes. Her mouth twitched at the edges.

"I thought you cared for him," she signed.

Cared for him? A little, perhaps. The way one had an investment in an enterprise. The sex was nothing, of course. It was meant to have no attachment. They had agreed to that in the beginning.

"He knows magic. You should take him with you," Mary continued.

Daniel felt his face grow red. "Claude—Mr. Rumpel—and I no longer associate."

"How did this happen?" Daniel watched Mary's fingers form the words and the expression on his face. It was as if the fingers were accusatory.

He wasn't in the wrong. He couldn't have been. Claude was just moody. Glum. Stuck in that hovel. Too easily angered.

But Daniel couldn't deny what he had seen. The hurt in Claude's eyes. They had the most passionate encounter thus far and Daniel had put his foot in his mouth.

"If I ask for his help, I will need to apologize."

Mary nodded her head.

"Do you think he will accept it?"

Mary shrugged. She walked over to him and patted him gently on the shoulder. He'd have to humble himself this time. A real apology; no joking.

He stood up and went away to think things through.

Chapter Eight

Claude finished the last of the spools. He had driven himself without rest for a day and a night, determined to get it done.

Now he sat in the corner of the room, exhausted. His body was back in human form, but he hadn't bothered to shower or dress yet.

He just stared at those damned spools.

Anger had kept him awake. Anger at himself, of course. He had been a fool too think Daniel was doing anything more than using his glamour to manipulate. The sweat, the groans, the whispers of desire—that was just a part of the act.

Keep the goblin happy, and keep the business going.

Well, the gold was spun now. Let Daniel come around to pick it up and that was that.

He was destroying the spindle for good.

And the potion. There was no need for goblin form with no spindle. No need for a spindle if there was no...

Forget that. Forget Daniel.

Let Daniel face the Olde Hag alone. It was certainly no business of Claude's. As long as Claude had his money, why should he care? He wanted to get out anyway. He had told Daniel as much.

The Olde Hag was deadly. If Daniel got himself killed, he'd not get paid. Claude had no skill at talking to Fae nobility. He had no gift for taking gold thread to market.

Purely in business terms, it would be unfortunate should something happen to Daniel.

There was a knock at the door.

Claude panicked. No one was supposed to be here at this hour. It was far too late for the lad who was sent around to do the deliveries. He sprang to his feet, found some clothing and pulled it on.

The knocking was still insistent. Claude hated confrontation, but he wouldn't allow robbers in his shop. It was warded, but there were some creatures, trolls and giants mostly, who could sneak in.

Claude flexed his hands. He looked down watching his own claws grow larger. He could fight if things came to that.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Claude finally decided to reply.

"Who goes there?" Quaint, but it worked with giants.

"Claude, it's me Daniel." And so it was the melodious voice, the hint of mischief, the undertone of desire.

"How am I to know it's really you?" Claude said, fighting back the urge to rush to the door and take Daniel in an embrace. "You could be a ghost, a Fae mimic, a shape shifter."

There was a heavy sigh on the other side of the door.

"Daniel, it is truly I. And... I have come to apologize."

Apologize? Claude slumped. He retracted his claws.

"I fear I misspoke. Your friendship means a great deal to me. I shouldn't have been so dismissive of your offer of help."

Claude was stopped short. He had said friendship. He had admitted that he at least noticed Claude's feelings.

Claude reached to the counter. He pulled gloves over his hands. He took two quick steps, and flung open the door.

There stood Daniel.

His hair was in the same state of careless disarray as always. His satchel was around his shoulders. He smiled but it wasn't his usual look of playfulness.

"I am truly sorry," Daniel said before Claude could say anything.

"That's a weak apology," Claude replied.

"I would like to attempt to make amends," Daniel said.

Claude thought about it for a moment. He let it linger in his mind. By rights, he should be glad to no longer associate with Daniel Grimm. The man was thoughtless, foolish, and reckless.

But he had managed to make Claude a wealthy man.

And he did have a certain amount of excitement that seemed to hang around him.

"I assume your apology means you want me help?" Claude wasn't going to let himself just give in so easily.

"I respect your magical abilities," Daniel said. He honestly looked contrite.

"Well," Claude said, ushering Daniel in with a wide swings of his arm," I suppose in the interest of protecting my business, I should assist you."

Daniel walked in. He perched himself on one of the stools at the counter.

"I would be grateful for your help."

Claude grunted. He pulled two glasses out of his counter and poured brandy. He offered Daniel a glass.

It was enthusiastically accepted.

"Now Daniel," Claude said, "no games. If you want me to help you, you must tell me… beginning to end… what sort of bargain you've made with the Olde Hag. I can't promise success, but I know a bit of magic and I'll do what I can."

Daniel spilled out his story like a fount overflowing. It was rather fascinating. Dragon eggs. Sorcerer siblings. Wood faerie friends.

"So you think that breeding dragons will win you some respect?" Claude asked.

"I think it would be good for the Grimm family." Daniel replied.

For a moment, Claude thought fondly of the old days when he was only a goblin. The country had been full of magical folk then. It had been a beautiful, wonderful time.

And a dark and dangerous time.

"I haven't used magic in some time," Claude said, "save for our gold thread. I mean, your gold thread." A slip of the tongue he wasn't going to make again.

"You know far more than I," Daniel replied.

"I keep mainly to clockwork and mechanical things. Trust me, what you can create with your mind is far better than magic in the long run." Claude wasn't certain if Daniel was listening. He wasn't even certain if what he said was true. He knew of clockwork inventors like himself who had created deadly objects. There were times when he wondered if there was evil inside everyone; not just goblin spawn like himself.

"If you come with me, Claude, I would appreciate the help. I need you," Daniel spoke so gently that Claude was amazed. There was no joking in his tone; no sly grin on his face.

Daniel needed him. He had said as much.

Claude opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't think of what to say. Instead, he shuffled his feet nervously. He looked into Daniel's eyes.

"Alright, Daniel Grimm, you have my assistance," Claude said.

Chapter Nine

"You don't like it out here do you?" Daniel asked Claude. They were trekking along a well-worn path, cleared of falling limbs loose rocks and surrounded by green trees. In was the smell of late spring, not yet summer, crisp, fresh, and vigorous.

Daniel had stayed at Claude's shop all night talking and drinking. That was all. When Claude had nodded off—as big as he was, he couldn't hold his drink—Daniel had decided to stay.

He prayed that hadn't been a mistake.

Daniel inhaled the sweet air. He lifted his face to feel the sun warm his cheeks.

"You have to love it out here. It’s beautiful," Daniel said.

"I am used to my shop," Claude said with a brief pant.

"Used to the darkness," Daniel said, "Claude, you live in a hovel. You should get out into the sun."

Daniel turned to see Claude wrinkle his nose. He readjusted his sack on his shoulders.

"Generally speaking, I avoid the sun," Claude said.

"Is it because of what you are... were?" Daniel added the last word quickly, hoping Claude wouldn't take offense.

"Goblins are used to bridges, caves, abandoned houses," Claude said.

Daniel wanted to ask what it had been like to be a goblin, but was certain that Claude would never give him a straight answer.

"I like the sun," Daniel said. "The woods, especially in the spring. Giselle adores it. Each year Giselle, Sebastian, Mary, Alice and I all go out in the woods to feast."

"I can't imagine." An insect buzzed by. A dragonfly. Claude swatted at it wildly dodging out of the way as if being attacked by a soldier with a lance. Daniel had to stifle a laugh.

"Oh, it's a fine, fine time. Mary makes rabbit stew and hot bread. Giselle brews the ale."

"Is this an all night affair?" Claude was still doing battle with the dragonfly, his words coming out in short bursts.

"Three days, two nights."

"Sounds… cold," Claude said.

"Not at all. Why, you can even dance naked in the moonlight," Daniel smiled thinking of that. "Next time, you must join us." Daniel wanted to choke back the words as soon as he'd said them. Now what made him say a thing like that? He was too embarrassed to look Claude in the eye. He glanced at the forest floor and bent down as if to pick something up.

Daniel knew he'd created an awkward moment.

They walked along in silence. Daniel focused on the woods around him: the greenery, the blue sky, the clouds. It was a beautiful day.

"It makes sense that you'd enjoy the outdoors, with Elf blood." Claude said breaking the silence.

Daniel shrugged. "I hadn't thought that the cause. I spent a lot of time in the woods with my mother when I was a child."

"Elf blood runs strongest if it's from the mother. It makes sense you would inherit a love of the woods. It would also explain why you're so…" Claude stopped speaking. Daniel turned and looked at him.

"That would explain why I'm so… what?" Daniel wasn't sure if he was going to be criticized, so he wanted to hear plain what Claude had to say.

"Attractive," Claude mumbled. He shook his head and raised his chin, "As in attracting people. You have the glamour."

"It's stronger some times than others."

"Do you use it on me?" Claude said.

"The glamour is a part of me. I can't control it." That was the closest to the truth Daniel could manage to say.

"Are your siblings like you?"

Daniel shook his head. He kept walking through the thicket, hearing Claude's heavy footfalls (and occasional curses) behind him.

"Giselle and Sebastian are twins. We do not share a mother. Our family arrangements are a bit… unconventional." Daniel paused and pushed a branch out of the way. He looked up at the large white clouds against the deep blue sky. He sighed with satisfaction.

"You told me they have magical power," Claude's voice was getting fainter as he was losing ground.

"Both do. Giselle is stronger," Daniel stopped, waiting for Claude to catch up. The man was hunched over even though his pack wasn't heavy. He was staring at the ground as if expecting the branches to jump out and attack him.

Daniel decided that he would begin taking Claude outside more often.

Perhaps it was the way Claude looked at him with such intensity. Or maybe it was because Claude never laughed at him.

Claude took him seriously.

This was new to Daniel.

"The truth is, Claude, most of my family, considers me a joke. They think I'll fail at this because I usually fail at these sorts of things." Daniel said, not entirely sure why he was suddenly being so honest.

"Prove them wrong, then," Claude said.

Chapter Ten

The woods were as green as they had been before, except now they had gone silent. The sparrow calls that had greeted them as they entered the wood in the morning had vanished. Daniel knew it meant they were close.

The Olde Hag's magic was powerful and her evil strong enough to scare off the birds.

"What kind of dwelling does she have now?" Claude asked.

"A cottage in the woods." Daniel replied.

The Olde Hag's dwelling changed—sometimes a palace; sometimes a brick house; other times a cabin. And a few times, when she was hungry for a young sacrifice, a house made of brightly colored candy.

They made it to a clearing. This time the Olde Hag's residence was a simple cottage in the woods. There were flowers planting along the pathway. A rocking chair was on the porch with a cat napping in the afternoon sun. There was the scent of spice apple pie.

As pleasant as she made her surroundings, it was always a trap.

"Tread carefully," Claude cautioned.

"I know what I am doing," Daniel answered.

"Are you certain?" Claude turned to face Daniel. He rested a hand on his arm. Daniel noticed the grip was sharp, as if nails were digging into him.

"This may look inviting but it is not." Claude's voice had changed too—it was deeper somehow, almost animalistic.

"I know what she can do." Daniel said, pulling his arm away from Claude and stepping back a few steps.

"Knowing a thing and experiencing it are different," Claude sputtered as he spoke, "The Olde Hag is a trickster. She lurks. She seduces. I've heard gruesome stories. The grimmest of the grim."

"You didn't have to come. It's no business of yours," Daniel was surprised at his sharp tone.

"I'm here because I want to be. You need my help."

"Then trust that I know what I am doing."

"She's the one I don't trust. The Olde Hag's a creature of the Underneath."

Daniel narrowed his eyes, "Like you?" he said.

A pained looked crossed Claude's face. He took one step forward until he loomed over Daniel.

"I will ignore what you have said," Claude spoke in a low, measured tone, "because I know it is her magic at work. She creates conflict. Breeds the anger inside. Already, she is spell working you Daniel and you don't even know it."

Daniel felt deeply ashamed. He did feel… odd. He was never an angry man. This was a mistake. The Olde Hag was too powerful.

He thought about turning around, but he couldn't. He needed that dragon egg.

"I'm going ahead," Daniel said his voice shaking.

"I'll be right behind you." Claude's voice was quiet.

Daniel walked slowly towards the cottage. It didn't look threatening at all. The scent of pie was wonderful. Sugar and spice. Apple wasn't it? He loved an apple pie.

Daniel's anger seeped away replaced by a rush of bliss. Sweets. Comfort. Home. His body felt lighter. The woods took on a haze of green and sunlight.

He was startled when Claude grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and spun him around.

"I told you she tricks. She's done it again."

Daniel was almost at the porch. He looked at the ground. In his daze, he'd even removed his satchel and left his sword lying on the ground.

Daniel felt humiliated. He wasn't even at the cottage yet, and she was already working her magic.

Claude reached down and grabbed Daniel's bag and handed it to him. Daniel swung it over his shoulder. Claude picked up the sword also.

"This is an Elven sword isn't it?"

Daniel nodded. "Passed down to me from my mother."

"They do such beautiful work, elves," Claude swung the sword back and forth with two quick motions and sighed.

"Never rusts, never dulls, feared even by the immortal," Claude uttered with awe.

"Yes, yes, all that sort." Daniel reached out. Claude handed the sword over.

"That will work against the Olde Hag," Claude said, "It's probably the only thing that will destroy her."

"Only if necessary," Daniel said. He hoped it wasn't necessary. Daniel only had a few lessons in swordsmanship and he'd certainly never killed anything with it. Count Grimm and Sebastian had forced him to practice on scarecrows with pumpkin heads, pretending to decapitate foes. The whole ordeal had filled him with such disgust he'd hidden in the forest and refused to come out for days.

The two men walked up the porch. Claude hung back while Daniel rapped the knocker against the door. He jerked his hand back as pain shot through it. Iron. Burning. The knocker was a disturbing looking item—two twisted, disembodied hands. Daniel prayed they weren't real. He felt a shiver go up his spine.

The door swung open, slamming against the sides. No one stood there.

Daniel stuck his head in to peer inside. Claude followed with the same action.

"Greetings." A woman stood in the middle of the room. They hadn't noticed her appear, but there she was. She was pleasantly plump, dressed in an array of pink and white. Her hair was done up in a bun. Her eyes sparkled. Her cheeks had dimples.

She opened her mouth in a wide smile.

Her teeth were as long and sharp as a vampire.

"So you must be young Mr. Grimm." She said.

"Yes," Daniel answered uncomfortably. "The troll said..."

"I know what he said, I sent him," she stretched out the words. That odd shiver ran back up his spine. "The one who comes for the dragon egg."

She turned to Claude. Another stare, and then her eyes narrowed.

"Gnome," she said with disgust.

"Goblin," Claude replied.

She turned back to Daniel. "And why have you brought him here?"

"He is my—" Daniel wasn't sure how to introduce him, lover didn't seem appropriate, "partner. Travel companion. He will be assisting me."

Daniel wasn't sure how Claude would react at that last bit of information. He glanced over at his friend. Claude was staring intently at the Olde Hag.

"Come, come, sit down." The Olde Hag ushered them to a table. There were four seats around it. The Olde Hag sat in one, Daniel in another. Claude squeezed his broad frame, clearly uncomfortably, into the seat closest to the window.

"Tea?" The Olde Hag smiled. She set the teacups out and poured from the pot. She pushed a platter of sweets in front of them.

"It looks delicious," Daniel said honestly. He reached for one. Claude pulled the platter away.

"She's doing it again," Claude said.

Daniel lowered his eyes, embarrassed.

Claude looked sternly at the Olde Hag. "We won't be needing anything to eat."

"I'm terribly thirsty," Daniel said. He suddenly felt it even more powerfully than the hunger he had felt moments before.

"Drink from this," Claude thrust a flask up to him mouth.

Daniel guzzled it down. There was bitterness to it, but it was fresh and cold.

The Olde Hag banged a fist on the table. The cup, the tea, the sweets and the platter all disintegrated into dust. The Olde Hag brushed it away with a cloth.

"Since you won't be civil like guests, then you will just be customers."

She stood up, spread her arms wide, and yelled, "Come!"

The floorboards shook as the troll came in. The same troll always sent to Daniel. His clothes were of a different color, but just as filthy as always.

He held a large chest in his hands.

"Shall I open it, my Lady?" the troll said, opening its mouth to reveal its broken yellowed teeth.

"You talk too much," the Olde Hag replied. She brought her hands to her mouth, and blew what looked like pixie dust at him. The troll coughed as the dust hit his nose, then went still.

Turned to stone.

"Open," the Olde Hag commanded.

The lock fell to the ground at the Olde Hag's command. The top opened up.

"Take a look," Maleadora said, "you too, goblin."

Daniel got up from his chair and raced towards the chest.

Claude followed behind him. He looked down also.

There was… a dragon's egg.

It was a blue—black with dark red lines running across it. Not much larger than a common hen's egg, but the coloring was enough to know it was no ordinary object.

"It's yours if you have payment," the Olde Hag said. "Now to our business. Don't fear. The dragon egg is safe there. Our troll is not going anywhere." She laughed. Daniel did not join in. Neither did Claude.

"Payment."

Daniel pulled three small, cloth bags. He untied the strings and poured its contents out on the table. Gold and silver coins. A few with rubies and pearls inlaid in the center. Some of the Fae had been so impressed with Claude's fine weaving they had paid in Fae currency. There was a small fortune spread across the table.

"There's more where that comes from."

The Olde Hag threw back her head and laughed. It was loud and not at all pleasant. It seeped deep into his soul like shards of ice.

"Silly little half-Elf bastard, I am no goblin to be paid in coins," she waved her hand across the table tossing the coins to the floor.

"And Fae currency? It’s worse than sorcerer's gold to me and mine. You clearly know nothing of our creatures." She was laughing so loudly now that it reverberated throughout the room. A cruel echo of the curse running up and down the sides of the house.

The whole place now felt dark, wicked, and wrong.

Daniel gulped and gathered his courage. He opened his mouth to speak.

"No," Claude said, "Don't. Ask. Her. We should leave now. We can find a dragon egg some other way.

"What do you want?" Daniel asked the Olde Hag, ignoring Claude's plea.

" Ahh..." said the Olde Hag, " What do I want?" She was showing her fangs again. There was an undertone of a hiss as she spoke and Daniel half-expected to see a serpent's tongue.

"I rather liked the blood," She smiled.

Daniel's stomach lurched at the way she said the word.

"What blood, Daniel?" He heard Claude's voice behind him.

"Stupid, stupid Elf. Blood. Yours." She leaned closer to him and licked her lips.

"You bargained with blood?" Claude said. Daniel heard the rising anger in his voice.

"Your blood. Elf blood. Invigorating. Youthful. Don't worry I don't need much. Just a little as a pick me up. Like you helped your little wood sprite friend."

Daniel paled. "How did you know that?"

"I know everything," She said.

Daniel took a deep breath.

"How much?" He asked.

"Just a little bit for my cup," The Olde Hag was speaking rapidly in a lyrical tone. She didn't sound at all human now. She jumped up from her chair and raced into another room. There was noise as if rustling in a kitchen.

Claude looked at him, anger evident in his eyes. "Do you realize what she could do with blood?"

"I had no choice."

"I don't want you to do this."

"Then I'll do it without you," Daniel needed to be firm.

Claude moved away. Daniel was stunned. Claude was leaving. He had said he didn't need Claude, but the Olde Hag was more dangerous than he'd expected.

Instead Claude grabbed his satchel, and began to look through it as if searching.

The Olde Hag came back in. She carried a cup in one hand and a sharp knife in the other. The knife was long. It's blade didn't glisten like the Elven sword. But it was certainly sharp. The bone handle—Daniel was certain he didn't wish to know whose bone—was cracked.

"Payment, Elf," She sounded gleeful. She walked closer to him and held the knife up to his face. Daniel could see it closely now. The hilt was caked with dried blood.

"Just a bit from the arm." She held up the cup and the knife.

Daniel gulped. This was going to be painful. Daniel closed his eyes. He made a fist, tightening his arm.

"No." Claude's voice boomed out. Daniel opened his eyes. Claude pulled back the Olde Hag's arm. She blinked as if startled. No one dared touch the Olde Hag.

"Goblin..." she said with an unmistakable hiss. "This is no business of yours."

"I'll cut him. You'll get your payment." He didn't let go of the woman, and let out a low growl.

It was harsher than that of any earthly creature Daniel had come across. It was worse than a dog's growl or a wolf's or a werewolf's. An ugly sound that invaded his ears.

The Olde Hag momentarily paled. She opened her mouth, showed her fangs, then quickly closed it again.

"Fair enough."

She thrust the goblet and knife at Claude.

"I will not use this," Claude threw the knife on the floor, "I will not use anything made of a unicorn's bone. Disgusting."

Unicorn bone for a knife blade, Daniel felt fear coursing through him. If the Olde Hag could afford such an item as that, she clearly never needed any of Daniel's money. He had been duped from the beginning.

"You've got your own knife then?" The Olde Hag asked.

Claude pulled a hunting knife out of his bag. "This one."

"You can't," Daniel called out becoming uncomfortable at the sight of the two discussing how to slice into his flesh. "It's got iron in it, you can't use that."

"You've got sharp little claws creature," The Olde Hag said.

"Silence." Claude told her.

"Oh, embarrassed to show your claws to the pretty little Elf here?" She laughed again. This time it felt like ice water was being poured down his back.

Daniel looked at Claude. Claude's jaw was set so tight he looked like it might bite off his own tongue. The goblin man turned to him.

"Daniel, I can't use her knife. It might be spelled or poisoned."

Daniel could only nod. He knew he was in trouble.

"I have only one option, but you have to trust me," Claude said looking deep into Daniel's eyes.

"I trust you Claude." Daniel said. Claude was a moody bastard at times, but he had never betrayed him.

Daniel thrust his arm out.

Claude removed his gloves. He held them up, letting Daniel get a good look.

Daniel was transfixed by Claude’s talons. Long and sharp like a hawk's sweeping down on its prey. He had always known that Claude was something different. He'd suspected that there were things the man kept hidden.

Daniel put those thoughts out of his mind and held out his arm again.

"Do it," he said.

Daniel clenched his teeth as Claude's talons cut into his skin. It was painful, there was no doubt of that. He held his arm over the goblet and focused on watching drops of his own blood fill it up. The Olde Hag looked on. She licked her lips and her eyes bulged wide as if she were hungry.

It was repulsive.

This entire situation filled Daniel with disgust. He was now certain that he'd made a mistake coming here. The Olde Hag was worse than he suspected and Claude was in the middle of this mess also. The stress was getting to him. Daniel started to feel sick to his stomach.

"That is enough," Claude said, holding the goblet in his claws. Daniel collapsed back into his chair.

"Are you alright, Daniel?" Claude said, his tone a bit harsher than usual.

"I'll survive," Daniel said with the awful thought that perhaps those words weren't true.

Claude held out the goblet to the Olde Hag, "Drink it and give it back to me."

Her hands grabbed the goblet. She drank it down quickly. Daniel looked on in disgust as she guzzled it down noisily, a little of the blood dripping down her chin.

"Ah, yes, good, good." The wrinkles on her face smoothed out. Her hair lost every bit of its grey. She wasn't suddenly a young maid, but she looked distinctly younger.

"Here," she handed the goblet back to Claude, "I left a few drops for you."

"No." Claude turned away.

"Drink it goblin. Those hands of yours can be prettied up. That's why you're friends with the Elf isn't it?"

"Silence."

"Oh, I know. You play with the Elf-boy's beautiful little body hoping he'll heal your hands."

She stood in Claude's face, "You'd love to run real human hands all over him wouldn't you?"

Maybe it was the loss of blood, but Daniel felt a sudden coldness. Was it true? Claude was not like her. Goblins were of the Underneath, but Claude had to be different. He must be different.

The Olde Hag looked over at Daniel. She was staring at him intently, almost as if she were reading his mind.

"We are what we are, Elf. You should know that," she tilted her chin in the direction of Claude. Daniel took a look.

Claude's demeanor changed. His eyes were slit with yellow like the Olde Hag's. Claude opened his mouth. There were fangs. His shoulders hunched over as his body seemed to expand—muscles pushed at his shirt and his face morphed before Daniel's eyes.

Daniel refused to turn away.

A few minutes later, Daniel stared at a goblin. What was once Claude was now a creature with an elongated nose and yellow eyes, spouts of hair coming out of the skin. Claude moved over closer to the hag, a limp as evident as the pronounced hump on his back.

The goblet was in Claude's claws and Daniel watched as he brought it up to his nose and took in its scent.

The room was dark now, so very dark. The surroundings began to smell like less like cooking and more like burning. Daniel was frozen with fear. Even his talent for breaking the tension with a bit of wit left him. His throat went dry.

Daniel coughed. Black smoke began to cover the room. He began to choke as it filled his lungs.

He passed out.

Chapter Eleven

A bloodcurdling shriek split through the night.

Screams followed behind it—of men, of women, of children. Claude wanted the awful keening to stop. He covered his ears but somehow that didn't lessen the noise. The shouts and cries were deep in his mind, lingering as always on the edge of his dreams; clawing its way through the comfort of his sleep. A thousand different curses from the Underneath called out to Claude and summoning him with his true name.

He woke up, sat bolt upright, sweat dripping down his face. He gasped as he sucked in a breath and then another. He glanced out a window. The night was passing over. The sun was slowly rising over the ridge.

Claude glanced around. It was an unfamiliar room, most certainly not his. Alarmed, he swung one leg over the side of the bed.

As he did so he grasped at the blanket and felt the soft cotton in his hands. He looked down.

They were hands—true hands, not claws. All thought of the nightmares were washed away as he looked at his own body in complete shock. No hair sprouting from pores, no bony lumps pocking out from the skin on his arms.

Claude closed his eyes. He opened them again.

It wasn't a dream. It wasn't an illusion. He had fingers were there had been claws, nails where there had been talons, smooth skin where there had been rough.

But most importantly he had hands that could feel. He gripped the cotton tighter. The light, fluffy softness caressed his palms.

"You're awake."

Claude looked up and dropped the blanket from his hands, turning red with embarrassment.

A woman entered the room. "So wonderful that you are awake."

Her voice was as melodic as birdsong. Claude looked at her. She was beautiful with long auburn hair down to her waist and deep brown eyes. She wore a dress of light green that reached down to her ankles and swept across the floor.

She walked over to him and sat down next to him on the edge of the bed. She smelled of flowers and early morning dew. Her breasts strained at the top of her dress. Claude blushed. He tried not to look too closely.

It was odd. He wasn't attracted to women—in that sense but even he could tell she was unnaturally alluring. There was a sense about her that was pulling at his gut.

"Who are you?" Claude asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know answer. He held up and hands and looked at them. Fingers. Nails. Smooth skin.

The woman smiled at him, "I am a princess to a prince." She reached out to him, running a single nail along the outside of one of his hands. It felt so wonderful, it ached. She intertwined her hands with his; her delicate, slender fingers curling around his rougher, longer ones. The woman leaned in and kissed his hands.

Soft lips on his flesh. A shiver went through him. He had real hands that could feel in a human way. He reached out to touch her. It was like a dam had been burst in his soul. Touching someone with his hands, not to have them recoil, was a marvel.

"Let's eat, my prince," his woman said. Her name? What was her name? There was something on the edge of his mind giving names to things but somehow he could not remember. It didn't matter.

Not with these hands of his.

She led him to a table. A fine spread of food set out before them.

He nibbled only a little, enthralled by the way he could hold a knife and fork in human hands without the awkwardness of claws or the clumsiness of gloves.

He held one fork in his hand, and a knife in the other, and cut into a large juicy piece of meat.

A sharp pain ran through his hands. He dropped the fork and knife hearing them clank on the floor. His fingers curled up into tight, painful fists on their own.

"What's happening?"

"It's wearing off." The woman said.

Claude looked down at his hands. The nails were elongating. The skin was turning rougher.

"But it can't."

"I gave you only a few drops while you slept my dear. You need more than that," she said.

"Give me some then." Claude said. Part of him knew he shouldn't be saying that. There was a part of him that was taken aback by the coldness in his own voice.

But his hands. The twisted claws.

Claude paid little attention to the woman. He was cupping his hands, his mouth set tight. If he were still a child, tears would have come down his eyes. His lovely hands were going away.

"Here," Claude turned at the sound of the woman's voice.

She stood in the middle of the room, with an Elfin man on a leash. The string was made of gold, but the collar was iron of some sort. His hair was down, brushing across his face. He was extraordinarily handsome. There was a strange look to his eyes, as if they were unfocused.

He was also completely naked.

"He's a pretty little pet, isn't he," the woman said.

Claude wasn't sure how to respond. He forced himself to look away.

"He's not speaking," Claude said more to himself than the woman. He looked back and the Elven man for a mere second, as he glanced around the room.

There was something wrong here. He didn't know whose house this was, yet it was somehow familiar. He looked over at the food on the table. The smells were no longer so pleasant; the large steak seemed raw and rancid.

"It takes time for the calandra root to wear off. He cannot speak for now," the woman said.

"You've poisoned him." Him. The name was at the tip of Claude's tongue. He knew this man.

She walked over to the wall and pulled down a sword. It glinted even in the dark, its eldritch beauty brightening the entire room.

The woman ran her hand along the hilt. "They always made such lovely things, those cursed Elves. If only we could have had their beauty."

She held the sword clumsily. It was clear she had no skill in wielding it.

"We have to collect the blood before he's aware," She said.

"I can't... I can't watch you do that."

The woman laughed, loud, long and terrible. "I'm not going to. You are."

"I can't," Claude said.

"You can and you will. It's quite simple. Just take a little blood from here," she pushed the barest tip of the blade against the lower part of the man's stomach. It pressed it against the flat fine muscles. "And we'll mix it with our potion."

The prisoner made no noise. There was no response in his face at all. It disturbed Claude to see the man so lifeless.

The woman let go of the sword. She placed it noisily on the table. It would be easy to reach, Claude thought. If only I could … but his hands were painful lumps turning slowly back into claws.

The woman—a witch she must be—ran her hands down the Elf's body. "He really is quite handsome." She ran her hands down his chest, down across his stomach, and began to stroke his sex.

The prisoner moaned. His face settled into a look of ecstasy as if he were caught in the middle of a passionate dream.

"He won't even understand what is happening. And you can keep him for your own pleasure as well. He is completely compliant," the witch said.

Claude studied this victim: naked, aroused, pliant. A handsome, beautiful man awash in sex and completely under his control. Isn't that what he'd always wanted? What he'd secretly dreamed of?

No. Not like this. He'd dreamed of wicked games with a consenting partner, not this.

He glanced over at the sword.

It was an Elfin sword. This man's sword.

The fuzziness of his mind was leaving, giving way to a new clarity. The woman was beginning to change before his very eyes.

She was not so beautiful. As a matter of fact, there was a roughness to her. An unpleasant glare that came from her eyes. He pushed away from her and stood up.

"The Olde Hag," Claude said. Now he remembered. He and… and... Daniel. That was it. He and Daniel had come to the woods to find the Olde Hag.

"What have you done to Daniel?" Claude asked. He glanced around frantically realizing he had nothing to fight her with. No satchel. No knife. Nothing.

"I do what I wish."

"Let us go."

"I am not keeping you prisoner," the Olde Hag said. She let go of Daniel's leash and he slumped to the floor. She may have looked more desirable now, but her beauty seemed to fade the more she spoke.

"You are free to leave. I have my blood. I keep my bargains." She looked resentful.

"You tried to spell us."

"I kept the bargain I intended to make. I can't be responsible for your own foolishness."

Claude went over to Daniel. He still had a glazed look to his eyes. He grabbed a cloak in a weak attempt to at least cover him.

"Give me the dragon's egg."

"The bargain was with the Elf, not you," The Olde Hag's voice dripped anger.

He pulled out a flask. There was water left. As best he could, Claude pried Daniels mouth open and forced in some water.

"It's difficult with those claws, isn't it?"

Claude knew he shouldn't but he looked down at them.

"A little spell work, a little Elf blood. That's all we need," The Olde Hag mocked him.

Claude forced himself to focus on Daniel. He needed him awake and aware. He couldn't think about how disgusted Daniel would be at the sight of these talons.

"We are of a kind, you and I," the Olde Hag laughed. "We are of the dirt, and dust, the Underneath."

Claude did his best to block out the Olde Hag's speech.

"He is of mist, and ice, and tears. A creature of the Mirage. Leave him to his fate." Her speech was relentless. She was testing his will.

His hands shook as he tried to wake Daniel. He forced him more water, shook the half-Elf to coax his mind into wakefulness.

Yet, it was as if she were mocking him. Her words were sinking deep into him.

Maybe she is right. Maybe I belong here with her.

*~*~*

For the first time in his life, Daniel understood fear.

It was not a pleasant sensation. He had joked his way through life, always confident that he would come out on top, because he usually did. Sure, he'd had run-ins with angry drunks that hung along the docks, but adrenaline kicked in and he fought his way out.

Here he was helpless.

His blood. That creature, the Olde Hag, had taken so much blood in the last few hours. He was aware that he was somewhere but his eyes wouldn't open. He was trapped in a nightmare.

Helpless to do anything.

Giselle would have a plan, but she had no knowledge that he was even here. Sebastian was not coming to the rescue.

Daniel tasted water in his mouth. Not some potion of the Olde Hag's but real, cool water. Fresh water from a mountain stream. He was faintly aware of someone shaking him. He tried to open his eyes, but somehow they would not obey him.

Think, Daniel told himself, think.

He was an Elf. It was his nature, like the sprites and the faerie, to respond to the calls of nature. The water was his lifeline. It poured across his lips and he drank it down.

The fresh water coursed through his body. He was coming back to himself. He felt energy and life begin to return to his limbs. The burning sensation—iron—around his neck began to subside.

He jerked up his head.

Finally, Daniel could open his eyes.

Claude.

The most wonderful sight he could imagine.

"Get up," Claude said, not cruelly, but not kindly. Daniel struggled to right himself. His knees were still weak, but he pulled himself up off the floor and stood.

He saw the Olde Hag standing there. She looked at him with pure hatred. He glanced away quickly and looked down at himself.

He was half naked, covered in a cloak.

"Give us the key, Olde Hag," Claude was saying, "you've made a bargain." Claude threw a shirt and breeches at Daniel. He grabbed them and pulled on clothes as quickly as he could.

The Olde Hag and Claude stood staring at each other as if in a trance. There was something happening—ancient, dangerous, and dark.

The Olde Hag reached into her cloak and pulled out the dragon key. She threw it in Daniel's direction.

"There. The contract is complete." She never took her eyes off Claude and he never took his eyes off her.

Daniel looked about the cottage. He wasn't imagining things. The room was much darker now than when they arrived. The cheerful colors were gone. Even the plants—he was certain there had been plants—were now no more than sticks and straw. And the troll still stood as stone statue holding the dragon's egg chest.

"Creature," The Olde Hag was taunting Claude, "Does your pretty prince desire you now? You're no better than the rest of us, foul goblin hatchling."

"Claude, we have to leave now."

"Leave. Without. Me." Claude's voice was low and guttural; tinged with darkness.

There was dangerous magic gathering up. He didn't know how Underneath magic worked, but he knew the beginning of a magical firestorm.

The magic crackled in the air. The Olde Hag held out her hands and a burst of energy flew out of them much like a red ball of light. It hit Claude in the stomach and he fell over.

Daniel winced at the sight of it. To his surprise, Claude stood back up. He opened wide his arms, spread out… claws, and fired another magical ball of light. Bigger than the Olde Hag's.

She took it in willingly. It hit her in the chest and spread throughout her body. She began to laugh loudly.

"More. More."

Daniel was no fool. This was magical feedback. He'd seen Giselle use it before. Two sorcerer's exchanging magic back and forth until one of them died. The participants were transfixed in it. They couldn't stop themselves once they started.

If I were smart, Daniel said, I'd grab the dragon egg and run.

He looked again at the scene being played out in front of him. Claude took another hit to the chest, got back up weaker, and fired back again. Claude couldn't beat the Olde Hag. But he'd keep striking back until he died.

Daniel made a decision. He had to do it.

He grabbed the sword on the table. It was Elven. Never rusts, never dulls, and most importantly—can kill even the Immortal.

Using it cost a bit of your soul, but one deadly strike was all it would need.

Daniel picked it up. The songs of his Elven ancestors sang through his blood. With one swift stroke, he severed the Olde Hag's head.

The room went silent. The sickening sound of the disembodied head rolling across the floor made Daniel's stomach lurch. He couldn't bear to look at the sword knowing it was coated with the Olde Hag's blood.

"We must leave now Claude," Daniel said through heavy breaths.

Claude stood there in the middle of the room staring at the spot where the Olde Hag had been. There was a dazed look to his eyes and his hands were long, sharp claws. His Claude was always a tall, broad, strong man… but now there was something about him that was wilder and older than anything Daniel had seen before.

There was a spark of fear making itself up his spine. Claude could hurt him, Daniel realized.

Daniel took a careful step towards Claude, the sickening sound of the blood squishing under his feet.

"I'll get the dragon egg," Daniel said, "And we will leave."

Claude didn't answer. He did turn his head and focus his eyes on Daniel. They were cold and emotionless.

Daniel gulped, but took one more step closer to Claude.

"You should come with me," Daniel said, "Claude."

Daniel wanted to believe that the mention of his name had some effect. Claude cocked his head to the side, and lowered his eyes.

"The Olde Hag is dangerous," Claude said in a whisper.

"That she is."

"It's dangerous to deal with creatures of the Underneath," Claude continued, "just look at them."

Daniel glanced down. Claude was clicking his claws against each other. The sound bounced around the room.

Daniel knew Claude. Daniel had spent hours working with him, watching the man tinker in his shop, listening to his stories of gadgets that the locals brought in, listening to his wise words and his soft voice as they huddled and touched each other in the dark.

Claude was no creature. He was nothing like the Olde Hag.

With all of the bravery he had inside, Daniel stepped close enough to Claude to touch. He gripped the Claude's arm, never looking at the claws, and met his gaze.

"We have the dragon's egg Claude. You and I." Daniel knew Claude was strong enough to break from his grasp; that there was nothing he could do about it if he did.

But Claude didn't. His body shook a little. Daniel lay the sword down. He held out his arms in an embrace, but too slight for Claude's broad frame, he nestled himself instead next to his Goblin Man.

There wasn't a sound in the room save that of their rhythmic breathing.

Chapter Twelve

The rain was hard, heavy, and merciless. It beat against the walls and the doors. At least the storm bought with it the clouds and the comfort of gray skies.

The gray and the dark—that was Claude's world. Not the birds, and the green, and the sun. He was back in his own shop. They had run until they were exhausted. Daniel was in a deep slumber in the back rooms.

Claude came to the front, cleaning like he always did when he needed to relax himself. There was a spot near the side window that leaked. Claude stuffed an old rag in the crack.

Now it was obvious that despite the exterior, he was still just a goblin. The lowest member of the Underneath; even the Olde Hag knew that. He was disgusted with himself. For a moment, Daniel's blood had been deliciously tasty. Claude was a hatchling of the dust and dirt. A cursed little creature.

Claude turned when he heard footfalls.

"I think I am rested now," Daniel said. Daniel stood barefoot in the doorway, borrowed clothes hanging loosely on him. He rotated his arm painfully. Most of the color was back in his face.

"You should be going then." Claude said.

"Ah, yes," Daniel answered. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly closed it back.

"There is a bit of hay left. I will spin it. You could get a fair amount of money for it," Claude said without looking at Daniel.

"Good. Good." The air in the room was heavy with tension, but what could be said? The Olde Hag's mirages had brought out the ugliness in Claude. Daniel had seen what he really was. That couldn't be hidden now.

"I..." Daniel began, moving closer to Claude. His hair fell across his eyes and he pushed it back. He had a perfectly symmetrical Elfin face. The creature inside Claude remembered the allure of Daniel's blood. The sweet, delicious scent that had pulsed through his body and given him hands. He stopped that train of thought. No need to let that ugliness out again.

"Before I go, I was wondering if you could take a look at our final contract? Just once. I am not familiar with all the Fae languages. I want to make sure we fulfilled all of Princess Adoranette's requests," Daniel said.

Business, of course. What did Claude think? Daniel was going to walk out of the room and declare his love?

You're a goblin.

"Bring the contract here," Claude said more bluntly than he intended.

Daniel went back into the room and returned a few second later with a scroll. He opened it and smoothed it out across the counter. Claude grabbed his spectacles from the shelf and put the own. He pulled his gloves on over his claws.

"Is it satisfactory?" Daniel asked.

"Yes," Claude said, "Princess Adoranette's treasurer keeps accurate records. Besides, you see this..." He pointed to a red stamp on the side," this is a warded seal. It assures that the information is accurate."

"You amaze me that you know so much about this sort of thing," Daniel said.

"I make it my business to understand all manner of contracts—human, Fae, genie." Claude replied.

"I've never studied the Fae languages. I have barely passable Elvish. This looks similar to Elvish though."

"Fae and Elves had common roots," Claude said, "nymphs and sprites, too."

"Your knowledge rivals the greatest sorcerers," Daniel said. His voice was cheerful. Claude shrugged. It was probably a forced cheer.

Claude rolled the scroll back up. "I've done my duty. I will have the rest of the gold thread completed by tomorrow and you can be on your way." He didn't look at Daniel. He wouldn't.

Daniel placed a hand on top of his, stopping Claude as he rolled up the map.

"Let me see."

"What? I have explained it all."

"Your hands," Daniel said softly. Claude was stunned. The air seemed to go out of the room.

"No," he sputtered out weakly.

"Yes," Daniel said, sounding uncharacteristically insistent.

"You don't want to see them." Claude said. "They are hideous."

"They are you, Claude. I want to know you."

Claude's stomach was turning up and down and around. He wanted to scream, You want to see me! No, no, my Elven prince, you don't.

Perhaps it was just as well. Let Daniel see what he was really dealing with.

Claude pulled off his gloves with such force it was as if he were tearing them off like bandages.

There they were. Long and nimble. Talons. Rough skin.

"These never changed like the rest of me," Claude said. "They can't as long as that cursed spindle is here."

Daniel was silent. Very silent.

"Still, you can thank these claws for sewing your thread so quickly. They are far more nimble than fingers." Claude laughed. It was a sick, twisted laugh that sounded hollow even to his ears.

"My blood transformed them, didn't it?" Daniel said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't need pity," Claude spat out. He held his hands up and waved them in Daniel's face. Demanding that Daniel look at them. Claude seldom studied his own hands in the light, but he would right now.

"This... is what I am. A trickster. A goblin. We are embodiments of curses. Our trues names bind and unbind us. Strange, isn't it? To see a curse made flesh?"

"You're more than that."

"Really?" Claude couldn't stop himself. "Let me tell you a story Daniel. Please. Sit." He pulled out a stool, scratching his claws along the bottom. It was a rough, harsh sound that echoed throughout the room.

Daniel, too his credit, sat down on the stool, legs hanging off, hands balancing in the center. His face was expressionless.

Claude didn't know what his expression was like. He didn't want to. Part of him feared that if he looked in a mirror now he'd only see a grotesque face staring back.

"Our goblin mother, the monster Brunhilde, would get lonely and seduce young men. Some human. Some elf. Then her belly becomes full with the lot of us—a dozen or so. She hates us, loathes us. And as she pushes each of us out into the world she screams a curse. The curse becomes our name and we become bound within it."

"That's where it starts," Daniel said softly.

"The gold—I learned to spin it. I can't tell you where, but my father was not as human as she believed. I knew if I perfected the process, I could pay and sorcerer to make me look more human. It almost worked." Claude was suddenly spent. It was the first time in his long life that he'd ever uttered the story of his shame.

He collapsed down onto the stool, gripping the edges with his talons.

"Your mother—she is some creature like the Olde Hag?" Daniel asked.

Claude nodded. "They are both creatures of the Underneath magic. Unlike Elves, which are of the Mirage, as they call it."

"I think Elves consider themselves Woodland Magic."

"Different perspective," Claude winced as he spoke, "Most of the Underneath hate the Elves and Fae."

"They don't have to fear us Elves," Daniel said, "most are only part-elf like me."

"But you have that... glamour. That quality of Elves that makes men weak." Claude couldn't bear to look at Daniel. There was bound be something in his expression: disgust or pity. He'd hate both.

Daniel stood up. He walked across the cold floor, opened the cabinet, and pulled out two glasses. He then pulled out a bottle—one of Claude's rare gins and poured a bit in each glass.

"Drink." Daniel said.

Claude grabbed the glass with his talons. They scraped the edges with a harsh sound, but nothing broke. He looked up to see if Daniel was noticing but there was little reaction.

Daniel drank his down easily. For Claude, the gin hit sharp and he wanted almost to spit it out, but he didn't. He wasn't one much for liquors and only had it as payment for work some time ago.

"My blood has an effect on you?"

"I don't need your blood."

"Claude, please, answer the question."

"The change at the Olde Hag's place was only temporary. The true source that keeps these talons is the spindle."

Claude watched as Daniel took another drink. He was waiting for the tension to break.

The gin set warm in his belly, calming him down. The anger, the shame, all those emotions the Olde Hag had brought to the surface, began to dissipate.

Now there was just the dull throbbing of embarrassment. Claude knew he had talked too much and revealed more than needed.

Claude sat his glass down, and reached for his gloves.

Chapter Thirteen

Daniel grabbed the gloves, lightning quick, and threw them on the opposite counter.

"Stop Claude Rumpel," Daniel said, "no more fooling each other."

"I am a goblin," Claude said.

"And I'm an elf. What does it matter?" Daniel reached out and grabbed on of Claude's hands. Claude wanted to pull away but Daniel's grasp was firmer than usual. It was odd: here he was, the taller, the broader, the stronger but Daniel had somehow caught him in his grip.

"They're rather interesting when you think of it," Daniel traced one of the long, sharp talons with his fingers. "Dangerous. A little sexy."

Claude felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Claude, Claude," Daniel said looking him in the eyes, "you know I've never been opposed to the rougher ways."

"I could hurt you."

"You won't. You've spent too much time saving my life."

"I almost drank your blood. I almost kept you prisoner."

"But you didn't, Claude. If there is anyone who can be trusted, it is you." The words hung in the air. Trusted. In all of Claude's years as a goblin and as a man, no one had said they trusted him.

"Come on, Claude, enough of those looks. You don't do self-pity well."

Claude hardly knew how to respond. He nervously clicked the talons of his free hand.

Daniel got up. He went back behind the counter and began shuffling through the cabinets. Daniel got up nervously after him, straining to see what he was looking for.

"There is more drink."

"I'm not searching for drink." Daniel said. He turned and gave Claude a full-on stare. A lustful one. Claude felt his cock straining against his breeches.

"This is what I am looking for," Daniel said triumphantly. He held a bottle. Claude caught his breath.

It was a mixture he had made of oils traded from passing merchants. An exotic mix of subtle essences meant to increase desire and ward off diseases. Claude hadn't had the opportunity to dissect in detail, but it held possibilities.

He bought it because it was useful for him and Claude in more amorous ways.

Daniel had that leer; the sheen of sex that was always about him. The tousled looked of his hair, even, that held the promise of desire.

Oh, Claude knew it was the Elven glamour that made it so strong, but that couldn't be it alone. Glamour didn't make it feel so real deep in the bones. Glamour could seduce him, but Claude could see it in the eyes—Daniel wanted him.

"I trust you Claude," Daniel said, "I wouldn't let you do what we do if I didn't."

Claude breathing grew heavy. His cock rose to attention. He must have release. He thought about reaching for his gloves; wanting to stroke his throbbing member without shredding himself with his talons.

He didn't need to move. Daniel grabbed at Claude's breeches, loosening the string, and pulling them down.

Claude gritted his teeth.

Daniel began stroking his cock. Slowly, but with a firm grip. Claude grasped at the counter to keep from stumbling. He closed his eyes and threw back his head, feeling his own desire rise.

He opened one eye and looked out the window. The rain had stopped. There was the sound of footsteps. Voices of people walking by. It was an odd symphony to what was happening here and now.

"You never let me see you naked, Claude," Daniel said.

"Well, I..." he struggled to speak. It was difficult getting words out with Daniel's ministrations, "I don't look like you."

"I know. I want to see you. Undress."

"Here?" A small bit of clarity for a moment. He couldn't. He shouldn't.

"I've seen your hands," Daniel moved closer, and whispered in Claude's ear, "but I want to see the rest of you." He stroked Claude again.

"Don't stop," Claude grunted.

"I will do more if you undress for me."

Claude nodded vigorously. He'd do anything at this point to be granted release. Daniel let go. The ache of emptiness coursed through him. He'd been so close.

Claude had never been completely unclothed in front of a lover. The few he'd had before Daniel never lasted more than a few times and were mainly quick fumbling in a back alley. He was always the large, lumbering one. Others bent over for him and he obliged himself to provide release. Sometimes, most times, they'd gotten what they wanted, he'd gotten release, and they never even had to touch Claude.

Claude stripped off his clothes. It was cool in the room as a draft blew through. In minutes, Claude was standing in the middle of the room, bare-assed naked. He felt half-foolish yet painfully aroused. He looked down at himself, still hard and he could swear it was throbbing.

"Claude, Claude," Daniel repeated his name. He watched the handsome Elf-man take his shirt off. Claude gazed hungrily at the slender body and taunt muscles.

"Dearest Claude," Daniel walked around him in a circle as if inspecting his body. He did it twice, licking his lips just a little. He finally stopped in back of Claude, pressing his body up against him.

"Hold still Claude."

"Why?" Claude choked out.

"I want you to hold still Claude. Feel."

Claude forced himself to hold still. His body was as taut as a bowstring. Shivers of excitement ran along his skin. He wanted to believe it was just the cool hitting his body, but he knew it was more than that. It was anticipation.

He felt Daniel press his warm chest against his back.

"Claude." Daniel had a way of saying his name and implying seduction with no other words. He ran his hands all over Claude's body. He spread oil across his back, down to his hips, along the backs of his thighs.

Claude was aware of nothing but Daniel’s long thin fingers. Fingers that had wielded a sword now moved across Claude’s body with tenderness.

Claude stood there in awe as Daniel came to the front of him and got down on his knees. He licked his tongue around his lips and smiled up at Claude.

The next sensation could hardly be believed. His cock enveloped in the warmth of Daniel's mouth.

It was difficult to stand. Claude gripped Daniel's shoulders. A violent storm of emotions fought inside him—lust, need, and pleasure.

Claude's talons sunk deeper into Daniel's flesh, leaving marks. He pulled back. He wouldn't really hurt Daniel. He couldn't ever do that. Instead he teased at the very edge of danger, loosing his grip just enough so that the talons scraped along the edges of the delicate Elven skin rather than digging in. A rough kiss rather than a bite.

He saw his claws—his creature hands—resting on Daniel's shoulders. He moved them up delicately as he could and ran his fingers through Daniel's hair. He's never felt it before only through the gloves.

Daniel didn't pull away. He didn't register disgust or repulsion.

There was a lump in his throat. Claude wasn't used to that sort of look. He wanted to cry out with joy.

Daniel leaned in and covered Claude's member with his mouth again. Daniel's hands grasped the back of Claude's ass. Claude's legs ached from standing; his cock ached with the fill of his essence inside it.

Then it came. It hit all at once. The crescendo of Daniel's jaws pumping; of Daniel's fingers pulling at the hole in his ass; at Daniel's golden locks brushing against his stomach.

The thought of Daniel's desirous gaze on him.

Claude. The goblin.

Claude threw his head back and howled his release.

There was silence.

*~*~*

Claude's breathing slowed. Daniel pulled away. Claude's knees went weak and gave way as he collapsed onto the floor.

He heard the sound of water from the next room and Daniel no doubt worked the hot water contraption. Claude pulled on his clothes, careful not to shred them with his claws. He felt weak but it was a good weakness—a cleansing. All that he'd held inside—the violent edge of the Underneath that the Olde Hag had brought to the surface—was gone out of him now.

Daniel finally came into the room. He'd dressed but his hair was still wet. He had his cloak on. He had his satchel thrown across his shoulders. He leaned over and grabbed the dragon map.

Claude searched for words but none would come. He needed to say something, express his gratitude, but it was all a mix of words in his mouth.

"Daniel," he managed to utter, just to break the stalemate.

Daniel held up a hand, motioning him to silence. He watched the Elven-man, Daniel Grimm, his lover, as he approached. The stood almost eye to eye. Daniel leaned in, warm breathe on Claude's ears.

"Rumpelstiltskin," his true name seemed more like song than a curse coming from Daniel's lips. The very words, in just the right magical tone, raced through Claude's body like a warm elixir.

"Daniel, you know my name," Claude said.

"I always have," Daniel said.

"And it never bothered you? The stories of the name alone, most people wouldn't…"

"I'm not most people."

"No," Claude said quietly, "you are not."

"Destroy the spindle, Claude, be free," Daniel said.

And before Claude could weep with joy, Daniel turned and left.

Chapter Fourteen

Two days seemed like a year ago. Two days since Claude, and the Olde Hag, and...

The store looked as if it had been abandoned decades ago. The windows were sealed shut, the glassed, the vials, the books, the gin… completely gone.

And of course, the gold spinning wheel and anything left of the gold.

Daniel realized that he had been a complete fool.

"Magic," Giselle said. She was standing beside him in the now empty shop, next to the abandoned counter. "That's the only way you can clear a place this fast."

"The herbs, the journals, the gin." Daniel said.

"All gone. Most likely he destroyed it all. No one who works magic wants to risk a sorcerer coming around and poaching their things."

Daniel gazed forlornly into the adjacent room. He'd opened it; all of it, as soon as he found the shop empty and summoned Giselle. The contraption was gone too, with all of its hot water. Daniel sighed.

The room that had held the spinning wheel was now just a sad little empty hovel with a few bits of hay strewn on the floor. He wandered into the room, picked up one of the wispy little sticks, and crushed it in his palm with a curse.

"Daniel," Giselle came in after him, "I told you to be careful."

"I know."

"Goblins are tricksters. How on earth did he get you to release him?"

Daniel didn't answer that.

"Once the spindle is gone, he can blend in like anyone. Likely he's moved on by now."

Daniel's stomach churned. "Yes, I know he's moved on." There was a bitter taste in his mouth.

"He is a goblin, Daniel. Whatever you may have wanted him to be."

"I know what he is, Giselle," Daniel looked at her and spoke through gritted teeth, "I don't need a lecture."

Giselle sighed. She was dressed in a bright, red cloak for some unfathomable reason. So red it reminded him of blood, and he had too many memories of that. Her dark locks were pulled back in a ponytail and a man's hat was on top of her head. Probably the Woodsman's. He'd had to have a messenger drag her—apparently rather dishabille—from the Woodsman's lodge.

His heart felt like a brick was lodged in it.

Giselle rested a hand on his arm. "Look, brother. I know what you wanted to do. It's noble of you. And you did get the dragon egg. That's a start."

"This is not about the dragon egg." Daniel said, knowing it was probably hopeless getting Giselle to understand.

"Magic is brutal," Giselle continued, "I should know." She gave a little laugh. "You're a different sort Daniel. You have your charms. Dealing with dark creatures… catching dragons…" she let the words trail off.

"I'm just a pretty face." Daniel said shocked at the bitterness in his own voice.

"You are what you are." She said crisply. She stamped her foot. "It's drafty in here. And so damned dark." She left the room.

Daniel could hear Giselle out front—boots stomping across the wood floor, rattling and crashing noises. She was searching around the remains of Claude's shop, no doubt, for anything that might be magical. Daniel sighed.

Giselle was right, of course. Daniel had done his job. Found a goblin, had good sex, a few laughs.

That was it.

He swept away the last bits of hay with the heel of his boots, and walked out to join Giselle.

*~*~*

The stench of piss and beer should have put anyone off, but Daniel was still in this demon-cursed shack that passed for a bar on the edges of town. A few customers were scattered here and there; smelly fishermen mostly. The empty tables had empty glasses and filthy plates piled on them. Emaciated dogs sniffed around hunting for scraps.

If Daniel had any sense, he would burn all of his clothing as soon as he left the place.

How long had he been here? Hours, Daniel was sure. He leaned over almost falling out of the booth. He shoved sleeping man next to him out of the way and watched him fall to the floor.

"Hey you, you can't leave him there." The bar owner yelled out.

"I don't know him," Daniel said. He glanced at the drunk young man sprawled unattractively in spilled foam across a dirty floor.

"He was drinking with you." The owner said. He was a big, burly man who didn't look happy. "I want my money and I want him off my floor." He was thumping a large wooden stick in his hands.

Daniel didn't need any trouble. He had no idea why he ended up in the backwoods beer hall except that it was close to the docks and decrepit enough not to be frequented by anyone he knew.

He pulled out some gold thread and set it on the table.

"What the cuss is this?" The bar owner said. He picked up the thread in his paw-like hands.

"Gold thread." Daniel announced, triumphantly. He was a little tipsy.

"Gold thread, is it?" The owner threw it on the floor. He shoved Daniel, "Coin."

It was all so laughable. These villagers didn't even know that that gold thread was worth more than this whole damned bar.

"Enough with your laughing."

Daniel emptied his pockets of all of his coins. He was slowly starting to remember how he'd gotten here. He'd drank with Giselle until she'd gotten bored; then he'd found Stefan. Oh, Stefan. That was his name. He glanced at the man still lying on the floor. A pleasant diversion from before he met Claude. He'd considered drowning his sorrows in the baker boy's eager body, but couldn't… uh… rise to the occasion. So, he opted for more drinking.

Unfortunately, it was hard to get an Elf drunk, even a half one, and he was only beginning to have a bit of success.

"No trouble." Daniel dumped piles of coins on the table and held up his hands. He stepped over Stefan's body. The young man squirmed.

"Take your friend."

"I don't even know him" Daniel lied.

Daniel headed for the door.

The cool night air was bracing. He felt around in his pockets. There was still some of Claude's gold thread. Well, he didn't need that now. Daniel wanted to get rid of every bit of it. That was the best thing to do.

He walked along the docks, past the boats, and towards the natural river leading out of town. It got quieter and quieter with only the restful sounds of the waterfall. That was where he belonged.

There was a shimmer. Daniel saw a figure coming out of the waterfall and into view. It was too small to be Giselle.

"Lord Grimm," Alice raced up to him. Her wings were translucent—visible to Elven eyes as the moonlight hit them. It explained her speed at any rate.

She looked well. At least his blood had done somebody some good.

"It's not safe for you to be about." Daniel said.

Alice flitted next to him, before settling down. "Someone's trying to get in."

Daniel was alarmed. "More trolls?"

"Possibly," Alice said, "We need you."

Daniel thought about it. He could handle this. After all, he'd killed a monster woman with a sword. Whatever else he failed at; he had proven he possessed some of his Elven grandfather's warrior blood.

They crept along quietly along the paths near the waterfall. Daniel forced himself to be as alert as his hangover would allow. He wouldn't let Alice down.

"There he is." Alice pointed. Daniel felt all of the breath go out of him.

It was Claude—the broad shoulders, the dark hair, the strong arms and firm form. Daniel would recognize that lumbering gait in the woods anywhere.

"Go to him," Alice said softly. He looked at her. Her eyes twinkled. "He seems nice. Some sort of magical creature."

"Partially."

"Not human?"

"Not entirely," Daniel said and turned to her, "but neither are we." He motioned her behind him. "And you and Mary need to stay out of my love life."

Alice grinned and blended into the woods so quickly and thoroughly it was as if she'd never been there. She was definitely a wood sprite.

"Claude," Daniel called out. He walked closer. "Trying to get in?"

"I was looking for you."

"Really? What do you want, Claude?" He said through gritted teeth. His heart was pounding. He was caught between wanting to embrace the man and wanting to punch him.

Claude cocked his head. A puzzled look spread across his face.

"I have what you need."

Claude walked over to a wagon. He threw back the tarp.

"Harnesses, ropes, dust from a unicorn's horn. Just what we need to raise and breed a dragon." Claude looked at Daniel, a triumphant smile across his face. Daniel had never seen Claude smile before.

For the first time in his life, Daniel was speechless.

"The winter season will arrive soon, so we need to force a dragon hatchling as soon as possible." Claude said.

Daniel finally found some words. "I told you to destroy the spindle."

"I did," Claude said quietly, "The wretched thing. I burned it; watched it turn into cinders. I can never spin gold again, but..." His voice drifted off.

"The whole store was emptied," Daniel said.

"If you were imprisoned and suddenly unchained wouldn't you want to flee?" Claude said. "For a whole day, I destroyed everything in that place. I ran free with my magic. I'll admit, a part of me considered running free forever."

"But you came back."

Claude pulled off his gloves and threw them to the ground. He held up his hands.

Flesh, no talons.

"I cannot make a living spinning gold anymore, so I shall have to find a new profession," Claude smiled.

Daniel smiled back.

"You need to hatch and raise a dragon," Claude said, "and I have enough magical skills to help you." He pulled the tarp back over. "I sold the rest of my things to purchase some supplies."

Claude began to pull out objects. "I've been experimenting with some new items. We find a mate and breed more than dragons. We could raise a phoenix. Perhaps we can harness twilight. All this you can use to rebuild your family's residence." Claude looked up, "that is your plan, right?"

Daniel was so stunned he barely managed to mumble his reply.

"You came back."

"We're going to breed this dragon, Daniel, if you will let me assist you?" Claude's voice was full of affection.

All Daniel could see was his handsome goblin man with his inventions, and his intelligence, and his terrible beauty. Daniel would make it his life's mission to have Claude see those things.

"I would be pleased to have you as my companion." Daniel said.

They both knew there was more in those words.

Daniel stood at the edge of the waterfall. He sang out the words, and the partition opened.

"We will start in the morning," Daniel said, "but first, I want you to come to my castle. Meet with my family."

Claude stood there. Daniel could only imagine that he shared the same lump in his throat and ache in his heart that he did.

Wordlessly, Claude followed him in.

Fin

About the Author

Echo Ishii loves to write stories of the fantastic-from high fantasy to high tech and everything in between.

Website: http://echoishiizone.wordpress.com

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Twitter: @mrsbookmark