Told one night at a bar by Pota, nocker grump, to Hunter, a wilder troll:
Skade was one a' your kithmates. A troll- and just about the prettiest damn troll I've ever seen. Yourself included, no offense. She was tall, lean, athletic. Long, dark blue hair she kept all done up in braids, and skin the color of a frozen river. Not that I gave a shit- but it was true, and I want you to understand what she was like.
She was a fireman- firefighter, I guess you're supposed to call 'em nowadays. And her looks were nothing but a source of trouble to her. She was constantly getting hit on, by changelings and mortals alike. She wanted nothing to do with any of it, and she turned 'em all down, to a man. People would'a speculated about her being more interested in the ladies, except she turned them all down, too. Skade was alone, and she was happy that way. We used to call her the Ice Queen.
Real original and shit, I know. Try to keep in mind that I'm fucking old, and lines that're cliche now were new back then.
Anyhow. Skade and me, we got along pretty good. I think that she liked my tendency to call a spade a fuckin' shovel, if you know what I mean. And she was funny as shit. Quiet, kept to herself- but fucking hilarious sense of humor when it came down to it. She was loyal, like all you big blue motherfuckers. But, y'know, she had my back. When I needed it. We were... well, she was about the best friend I had at the time. Probably the best friend I've ever had.
About the time the war was heating up for us in Boston, our contingent of the Minute Men got sent to treat with a nearby group of Nunnehi. We'd heard that the sidhe were sending envoys, and we figured we had to put our word in. If the Nunnehi sided with the sidhe- or even allowed them free passage across their lands- we'd'a been fucked up the ass, right and proper. So, I packed up the tank- the very first tank I ever built, I might add- and we headed out.
The night before we were supposed to meet with the representatives of Nations in that area, we were camping out in the tank. No fire or nothing, because we didn't want to be rude. It was damp, and, I must say, fucking miserable with six of us crammed in sleeping in a six-seater tank.
Skade was on watch that night. She was sittin' there, being vigilant or whatever the fuck you trolls do when you're on watch, when she started to hear this singing. She followed it, to see what it was, and all of a sudden she found herself way out in the woods. She found out it was one of the Nunnehi, and they talked, and she ended up promising to meet him after the talks the following day.
Well, next day, we did our talking with the Nunnehi. It was looking kind of promising, because you could just see the fuckin' sidhe digging their own graves at the parlay table. They just couldn't see why they should treat these guys like equals. I mean, hell, they didn't treat us commoners like equals. Why should they do that for some foreigners? And the Nunnehi there were always proud- not willing to let us Euro fuckers push 'em around just 'cause.
But I digress. The Nunnehi basically told the lot of us to get lost, and they'd let us know later what they decided. Skade went off to make good on her promise- with our blessings, since we wanted to foster good relations with the Nunnehi, and all. Maybe two hours later, she finally shows back up at the tank. And what's she got in tow, but the walking fucking undead!
I found out later that he was a Pu'gwis, and that's just what they look like. But at the time, everyone in our group started to freak out. I saw one chick go all green, even. Then, Skade introduced him as her friend- Roland- and I could see in her eyes that she cared about him. Wanted us to be kind to him- wanted to protect him from everyone who didn't understand what kind of person he was under the rotting flesh and the peeling skin.
As I recall, I walked up to him and said, "Well, aren't you an ugly motherfucker!" and then shook his hand. Firmly. It was... what I could do for him, y'know? To just say what everyone was thinking, and make it clear that I was going to treat him like a human being regardless.
Well, Roland came back with us. His word on us put us in the Nations' good graces, which saved our asses then, and later. Once we got back to Boston, he moved in with Skade. She slept on the couch- insisted he take the bed.
From then on, they were inseparable. This led to no end of comments about Beauty and the Beast, and shit, but they were happy. They loved each other. To this day, I have no idea if their relationship ever turned romantic or not- you better believe I didn't think too hard about Roland's sex life- but it was clear that neither one was as whole or as happy without the other.
Roland deserved her, too. He was a good man- loyal, attentive, caring. He cooked. He even wore these huge rubber gloves when he cooked, for fear that people might be revolted by the idea of him touching their food. I mean, he was thoughtful that way.
If I was close with her, I was also pretty close with him. I think he appreciated that I never tried to pretend he was anything but what he was, but never shied away from him either. I mean, hell- she loved him. What was I going to do? Insult my best friend's... I d'know what he was to her. Soulmate, maybe.
So, they were happy for a time. But the war was still going on. We were all wanted fugitives- which is a story for another time- and we ended up having to hoof it out of town at one point. That's when I left MIT, and she lost her job at the fire station. We headed north, in time to get caught up in the sea battle on the Great Lakes.
I went out on a ship- my first time sailing, that was. She and Roland were part of the force defending the fort on the land. So, I only pieced this part together later. I was elsewhere, doing other things at the time.
That entire fucking battle was a disaster from start to finish. The fort fell, and she and Roland were taken captive. When they woke up, they were being tortured for intelligence- they had matched her to their list of wanted, and figured she had to know something. Those bastards figured out real quick that it was more efficient to torture Roland than her, and he passed out from the pain. That was a mistake, though. Once she thought he was dead, she refused to say a damn word more. Not even screams.
So, they tortured her for a while. When it became clear that she wasn't going to talk, they took her away. Then, just because they're the fucking coldhearted iceblooded donkeyfucking sidhe, they put a knife in Roland's hand and let him wake up in a pool of her blood, thinking it was somehow his fault.
Her, they took away and brainwashed. They made her a new life, where she hated commoners and would never have fallen in love with a zombie like Roland. And then, they put her to work, guarding the area where the rest of the commoner prisoners were being kept. So, surprise surprise, when we showed up to rescue our prisoners, who was waiting for us?
That's why I hated the fucking sidhe- the mind games. It's not enough to defeat their opponents- they have to mindrape them and crush their very souls.
So, I was forced to kill my best friend- there was no other way. I gutted her with my claws, and watched the life drain out of her eyes. Blood dribbled out of her mouth and spattered onto the faceplate of my armor.
And then I took her to a safehouse, and did what I could for her. It was months before she woke up again, and it was months after that before Roland resurfaced. Things were never really right between them again- he was haunted by guilt, even if it was undeserved, and she never quite lost the memories of the other life they implanted in her head.
And she died so many times. She was the strongest of us- the best fighter, the biggest, the fastest. So, she always went in on the front lines, and she paid the price for it. By the time the war was reaching its conclusion, she'd died more than half a dozen times, and it took its toll. She was Undone before the treaties were signed. Her body was in a coma for 17 years before it finally gave up the ghost.
Roland only lasted three months after her, before he died, too- of a broken heart, and a bottle full of sleeping pills, and a gaping throat wound to boot.
Pota's voice has grown soft, and quiet. "If they were alive, this'd be the 37th anniversary of the day they first met and fell in love, alone in that forest." She raises her glass. "To Skade, and Roland, and the possibility of real love, even if the world can't fucking leave it alone. I hope they walked that Bright Road, and are happy somewhere, together again."
Pota downs her glass, and hangs her head, obscuring her eyes from view. She's silent for a long moment, and then she coughs, and says in a shaky voice, "Well, Hunter, I've kept you listening for a long damn time. Didn't mean to talk your ear off."