Fourteen: Troll
A/N: Trolololo
A/N 2: This was also inspired by Terry Pratchett..
A/N 3: Trolls aren't actually afraid of fire. They're afraid of lightening, according to Scandinavian lore. I'm exercising my creative licence...

Kurt didn't know where the day had gone wrong. Honestly, all he wanted to do was get into town and buy some of the silk he'd seen the merchants bringing in before everyone else snatched all the good bolts. Was that too much to ask? He didn't think so, but apparently what he thought didn't matter.

Being the son of a world-famous barbarian kind of sucked like that. Everyone expected him to be just like his father. Kurt loved his father, don't get him wrong, but he most certainly did not appreciate the stifled creativity he constantly suffered from.

At any rate, here he was, sitting in the middle of the forest, relying on the skills his father had taught him when he was still young enough to eagerly soak up anything he wanted to teach his son, after being forcibly involved in a long winded game of, 'Let's char the hobbit and his equally-as-small female companion for busting our eardrums with their annoying duet' (the Mage trying to burn them literally stood and explained it to Kurt, which is how Blaine and Rachel made their escape). Needless to say, it didn't work and only really served to make Kurt unforgivably late. Not only was his father going to needlessly worry, which wasn't good for his heart, but all the good bolts of fabric were going to be gone by the time he got into the city.

At least he was still able to moisturize, even if the scent of camp fire was sinking into the fabric of his shirt and wouldn't likely come out for weeks.

Sighing softly Kurt glanced around the clearing he'd made himself camp in. Not too far off there was a mountain that his father said was home to a family of trolls and the forest surrounded the slope of the base at least three miles out in each direction. Kurt was roughly a mile and a half away, just far enough that the hill was angled comfortably. The trees here were an eclectic mixture of deciduous and coniferous, with a mixture of thick underbrush usually found North and exotic ferns. Ivy crawled up the large rock he was using as a windbreaker.

Kurt thought that the underlying layer of magic from people burying magical artifacts and forgetting them for a few odd hundred years was responsible for that.

He didn't notice the broad form approaching on silent feet from the East until he caught sight of a shadow where shadows had no place being. He slipped a surreptitious hand behind his back and fingered the hilt of the sai sword strapped to his thigh. "Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"Not half bad for a human. Most wouldn't have noticed me until I was already cutting them." Kurt was honestly a little surprised at the size of the troll that stepped out of the bushes. The green-ish grey colour of the skin and the small cone shaped horns were nothing new, but the trolls Kurt had seen must have been closer to twice the size of the one standing before him.

"Mm, well, most humans are idiots who couldn't see five feet beyond their own noses if their lives depended on it," Kurt replied with a small, sarcastic smile. "And it very usually does, which is why the population is declining."

"And here you are, seeing ten feet to the right of your nose." The troll laughed and sauntered further into the clearing. "Let me guess, mother's a barbarian and she taught you the ropes?"

"Close," Kurt said, sarcasm sliding into a more placid mirth. "Father is. You haven't told me your name yet."

"Can't get them all I guess. Clothes threw me off." He leaned against the rock, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his dark beige trousers, the loose fabric bunching at the front. "And you never told me yours. That's bad manners."

"Well I did ask first, but my name's Kurt." Kurt stood but stayed on his side of the fire. Trolls weren't exactly known for their affable attitude towards humans but this one hadn't tried to rush him yet. Granted, that could have something to do with the fire in between them, but Kurt would much rather prefer to believe that he was conversing with one of the few polite ones.

"Puck." Hazel eyes watched him closely before a grin broke out onto his face, revealing small, pointy teeth. "You gonna take your hand off your weapon?"

"That depends," Kurt replied. "Are you going to try to attack me?"

Puck chuckled and shook his head. "Only if you try first. My sense of self-preservation is only so small, you see. Arming yourself I understand. Throwing the knife you're holding 'just in case' at me and claiming you slipped? Not so much."

"I... don't know if I want to hear that story," Kurt said carefully, sliding his hands up to rest on his waist instead of his hips. Puck snorted and moved further into the clearing, deliberately leaning against the trunk of a massive willow.

"No, that's definitely a story for another day." Kurt was tempted to raise an intrigued eyebrow but refrained, instead turning their conversation to something a little more neutral.

"So, what are you doing here?" he asked shuffling closer and perching on a small flat rock. At Puck's questioning expression he expounded. "You were coming here specifically, correct? Or else you would have either assaulted me or continued on your way."

"Maybe I was just impressed by the way you spotted me and wanted to talk."

"Trolls don't sit for a chat just because you caught them skulking around," Kurt stated, pointedly ignoring the muttered, "I don't skulk." "So what were you doing?"

Puck nodded at the stone he'd just moved away from. "My dad. Dumb ass stayed out too early and petrified."

"I see. So if you stayed out until daybreak, would half of you ossify? Seeing as you're only half troll." Kurt carefully watched for a reaction.

"How'd you know that?" Puck asked, clearly intrigued. He pushed away from the willow and walked forward. "Not many people get it so soon."

"For one you're smaller than the average troll, which could be chalked up to unfortunate genetics, but you're also smarter and your innate dislike for humans isn't quite as strong." Kurt smiled and slipped off the rock, slowly walking to meet Puck halfway. He cocked his head and Puck lowered his, brushing his nose against Kurt's cheek. Before he could reach his goal Kurt pulled away and sat back on his rock. "Sorry, but I don't kiss strangers."

Puck snorted, grinned, and shrugged, dropping to the ground where he stood. "Well then, I guess we're just gonna have to get to know each other."