The Trouble With Trolls

by jinjyaa

Human rights have improved, but what about the other nondemons? Crisis with the trolls leads to the Dragon Insurrection. And Wolfram's own nondemon ancestry may allow him to give Yuuri children, or ... sprouts?

9. Dearly Departed

Kyou Kara Maou : The Trouble With Trolls

Summary: Wolfram's attempt to bypass Maou Wedding Curse with a small family ceremony, backfires when an uninvited relative arrives - the Troll Mother.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

Chapter 9 : Dearly Departed

The next day, Wolfram and Manfred fell in with Yuuri and Conrad as they walked back from baseball practice, to attend a family meeting called by Tariel. The tiny tyrant who now ruled Shin Makoku through his dragons, gave few details on the agenda – just that all his local descendants, plus Yuuri, should attend, but no children younger than Efram. Tariel's descendants via his late daughter Emeraude included Elliott von Wincott and Cecilie, and thus Gwendal and Conrad, as well as the ruling family of the von Bielenfelds via Friedrich – Aldrich, Manfred, and his sons Wolfram and Efram.

As they neared the meeting room door, something about the mood made them pause to look at Aldrich and the von Gratz brothers, holding a low-voiced conversation some ways down the hall. Normally the quarter-troll Aldrich gave the impression of being large, especially in Bielenfeld's bright blue, surrounded by his compact von Bielenfeld kinsmen. But he wasn't actually any taller than Conrad – just unusually broad in the shoulders and chest. But with only one arm, he didn't get much upper-body exercise. Bracketed by the taller, even broader, muscle-bound Adelbert and Brendan, he almost looked slight. Which was an odd thing to suddenly notice. One saw Aldrich with his younger von Gratz cousins all the time, especially Brendan.

"You son of a –" exploded Adelbert. He grabbed Aldrich by the bejeweled ruffles at his neck and slammed him into the wall, holding him pinned, fist holding up Aldrich's chin and cutting off his windpipe.

"Get off him, Bert!" yelled Brendan, arms folded furiously next to them.

Manfred and Conrad strode toward them. "Not exactly sporting, pinning a one-armed man to a wall, Bert," Manfred observed coldly to his oldest friend. "Walk. Away."

"Not until he –"

Conrad drew steel and laid it on Adelbert's neck. "Walk. Away. Adelbert von Gratz. That is an order from your liege lord." In Gratz, Brendan had offered Adelbert and his half-human daughter Frieda nothing but the lonely freedom of the far mountain rangelands. Conrad, the new Aristocrat Lord Weller, with a mandate to handle the humans and half-humans within the realm, and coordinate police dealings internationally, was the one who offered suitable work for Adelbert to return home with.

Adelbert glared at Aldrich a few moments more, then slammed his head into the wall once more before letting go. "This isn't over, Aldrich," he promised as he finally walked away. Aldrich took a step forward when released, revealing a hole in the wall over a foot wide.

"It is over," ordered Conrad. "I'll be looking for you after this meeting for a full explanation, Adelbert." Adelbert just kept walking. Conrad turned to Aldrich and bowed formally. "I apologize for my liege man's outburst of insanity, Lord Bielenfeld. I trust you are unharmed?"

Aldrich stared stone-faced after Adelbert another moment, then got his face back in order. He smiled at Conrad, one side of his mouth turning up, eyebrows sloping more steeply, and huge green eyes narrowing – Aldrich's unique variation on the evil green-eyed demon smile. "Not your fault, of course, Lord Weller. Thank you for your assistance. Your man's already been killed and revived by von Bielenfelds once this week. Bad for one's health to make a habit of it." He inspected his ruffles briefly, then ripped them off with a savage jerk and stuffed them into a pocket. He headed for the meeting door.

Brendan blocked his way, arms crossed. "My brother's an idiot and a hot-head," he said, his face inches from Aldrich's. "I am neither. I will be joining your meeting. And I will get answers. Aldrich. You owe me that."

"Fine," said Aldrich, smiling harder, and walked around Brendan. He stopped, blocking the doorway, and added, "But if your brother lays a hand on Efram or Wolfram," he turned and met Brendan's eye, "I'll kill him."

Brendan held his eye and nodded slowly. "Fair enough. I'll help."

"Me three," concurred Conrad. "I trust this will all be explained inside, so… Shall we, gentlemen?"

Yuuri hung back, to ask Wolfram, "Ah… what just happened?"

Wolfram didn't meet his eye, just indicated the room with a nod, and went in. What with comings and goings and dragons in the land, Wolfram had found it easy to be vague with Yuuri on what had happened in the Fens. The farther it receded from him… the uglier it looked.

oOo

"We make new peace between demon and dwindling races," began Tariel when the room settled. "But we keep secrets from each other in our family. It is time to stop that." He held Friedrich's eye a moment, who nodded assent. "First, this man is not my kin." The slight blond wood nymph indicated Brendan.

"I invited him, Tariel," Aldrich oversimplified. "His father Adeldan von Gratz was killed in the Krist Fens. He seeks answers. Discussing that… is on my agenda for this meeting."

Tariel nodded, looking calmly at Brendan. "Then we discuss that first. And then, I ask you to leave, son of Adeldan von Gratz."

Brendan acknowledged this without agreement. Efram had joked about seeing Brendan in a rage, but he hadn't had long to wait to see the real thing. The young man's self-control was flawless. Which made his rage all the scarier.

"I'll start," offered Friedrich. Tariel nodded. "Brendan, you know how I came to inherit Bielenfeld, though not everyone here does, and you don't know all of it. I was third son of the previous ruling Lord, Theophilus von Bielenfeld. The Moron and I weren't close. I ran off at sixty with a noble's daughter, took up healing at the Institute. I had little to do with my father or the rule of Bielenfeld for centuries. Then one day my father had a party. He ordered me to babysit for my sisters Sophie and Phoebe, and my grandson Wolfred, since I refused to attend.

Friedrich leaned forward, elbows on his knees, almost curling into a ball as he sat. "Over a hundred people died at that party, my wife and son Wolfgang among them. The day I inherited Bielenfeld… All of Bielenfeld – the domain, seven family plantations whose owners were gone, three surviving children under age twenty." He paused, scowling in a rage grown bitter cold. "And a book. Our family's treasured secret book – the von Bielenfeld Empiricist's Bible. The Moron made sure that survived. It was shielded and swathed to protect it from anything, though he killed my entire family, save the small children who were with me."

Brendan, eyes narrowed, said softly, "I was aware of … most of that, uncle. That's how you came to raise my mother and Manfred's parents. Are you saying what happened to my father in the Krist Fens, was … that? That what? I thought there was a fire or something."

"I'll take it, Chichi," murmured Aldrich. "Aunt Sophie wouldn't have told you about the Empiricist's Bible, Brendan. Nor what… the Moron… was trying to do that day. They never knew.

"Efram," Aldrich continued, "you noticed I'm familiar with Igor von Krist's work, Besting Beasts. The majutsu theory Igor was developing in that book was for the sole purpose of wholesale genocide of the other Mazoku races. He wanted to know how Shinou killed the trolls and centaurs and the rest, so he could finish the job." He paused, as Efram looked at him in horror. "All of the spell overrides I tried to suggest you not use… Igor developed a framework for unleashing that scale of destructive power, selectively. By Mazoku race."

"Igor was a theoreticist, Efram," Manfred took up the tale. "He published this framework, and – hah! – it sits it libraries all over the land, used as a children's picture book. But you know how many spells are encoded in those tables – thousands. It's all just theory until it's proven. Igor never met a quarter of those races, nor tried even one percent of the spells. We," he nodded to von Wincott, "are the empiricists. The von Wincotts do potions and the von Bielenfelds do majutsu. We don't publish anything until we're satisfied. Even then… we only tell the world if the world would be a better place for it. That work of the von Bielenfeld men, is the Empiricist's Bible. Theophilus – the Moron – was trying to prove that he'd mastered Igor's central theory, that he could unleash Shinou's power at will."

Efram looked daunted, leaning forward to hug his knees like Friedrich. His mother, Dionne Zarelle, was also a Krist majustsu theorist, a professor of majutsu defense at the Bielenfeld Institute. He hadn't considered the contribution of those who proved the theories. And to prove that a Mazoku could wield Shinou's power…!

"That's what the party was for," said Friedrich. "His demonstration. He invited all those people to see his triumph, the egocentric moron! I wrote back to him, told him it was too risky. His preliminary experiments left unanswered questions, dangerous questions. I begged him to do further controlled experiments, establish safeguards. To hold a victory party – was insane! He was so damned sure of himself, he pasted my letter right into the bible with his refutation. Pointed out my mistakes, my cowardly caution. That was his farewell to me. But in keeping with family tradition, he left up-to-date farewell letters wrapped in the Empiricist's Bible for the rest of his family. They're still there. I wasn't able to deliver a single one. The egotistical moron killed every single addressee."

"Can I… see this book?" asked Efram timidly.

"Not until you make your century," replied Manfred.

"Hypocrite," said Aldrich. "Efram, your father and myself were the last people who experimented to find out where my grandfather went wrong, when Manfred was Wolfram's age – not yet a century."

Manfred snorted. "So I know whereof I speak. You were a hundred fifty, Aldrich. What was your excuse?" He looked wryly at Efram, and answered his own question. "Neither of us happened to care whether we lived or died that day."

"Chichi and I talked about it for years, ever since I made my century and studied the book," said Aldrich. "We had theories, but… never really wanted to test them. But Manfred and I…"

"Were both suicidal," reiterated Friedrich. "This suicidal streak is key to understanding this story, Efram." Friedrich tone made clear what he thought of their experimental procedures, or lack thereof. "Their letters were quite touching, though, especially the ones to Cecilie and Wolfram and Glynda. I had plenty of time to read them after I brought them back from the dead the second time. Or was it the third?"

"Um, I dunno," admitted Aldrich, chuckling. "What was the order again? The first attempt was the out of control fireball that burned down all your barns, wasn't it, Manfred? So I healed Manfred's third degree burns… And we made an adjustment."

Manfred grinned evilly. "They were my mother's barns at the time. Yeah, then it was my turn, and that one made the world disappear – only it turns out we were inside a ball of light so bright we couldn't see anything outside. Really scared the farmers."

"But neither of us was injured that time, so we were improving," said Aldrich, clearly getting back into the warped spirit of adventure of that long-ago day. "So we made another adjustment –"

"No, Aldrich," Manfred, in a similarly dark joyful mood, corrected him. "Next we decided to check for repeatability. We did exactly the same thing, but instead of putting ourselves inside a ball of light, it summoned that tornado that picked up a few dozen pigs and dumped them in the manor house flower patch. You always forget that one." He grinned his very most evil green-eyed demon smile at Aldrich. Who grinned back.

Friedrich had his face half-covered by one hand, but glared out greenly from the other side. He murmured, "The parents' age-old curse. May you two grow to have children Just. Like. You."

"And to think you raised six of us, counting Manfred. Lucky Chichi," said Aldrich, with a delighted grin reminiscent of his troll childishness, but with deepest black humor added. "So – that was a little disheartening."

"Right, we weren't dead yet," said Manfred. "And we were trying ever so hard. I think next we tried to repeat the exact same thing, to make sure we had the pattern right."

"And we did!" agreed Aldrich. "That was the first time you died, Manfred, wasn't it? A geyser opened up beneath you, and hurtled you fifty feet into the air. You were pretty scalded. Well, and dead from the broken neck."

"That pattern being," Elliott von Wincott suggested timorously, "that you produced catastrophic, uncontrolled, unpredictable results each time?"

"Exactly!" agreed Manfred. "So then we –"

"Enough!" cut in Friedrich. "It was bad enough having to read the sorry tale while I waited for you two idiots to regain consciousness. We don't need to rehash the gory details." He glared at Aldrich and Manfred. "The farmfolk had the sense to run away, and send someone to fetch me to bring them under control. They were both passed out and I left them that way while I read what they'd been doing –"

"He left us lying unconscious in the mud, in the pouring rain," Manfred confided to Efram. "He had a giant umbrella and a little writing table with tea service and the book."

"I'm not the one who conjured the typhoon," countered Friedrich.

Aldrich also looked sadly at Efram, mock-pleading for sympathy. "He was composing a new experimental protocol, to test his conclusions based on Manfred and my findings. He made us get up and do more experiments. Chichi was mean to us."

"Richly deserved," breathed von Wincott. Conrad and his mother both had hands over their mouths and eyebrows scraping their hairlines. Gwendal wore a fairly standard scowl. Wolfram and Efram looked… demonically amused. Brendan was still waiting for his answers.

"What we proved that day," summarized Friedrich, "was an effect I refer to as resonances. Igor's override spells might be controllable if carried out with only pure-bloods within the effective radius. We haven't let any pure-bloods read the book, so we don't know. We decided to stop killing each other and the livestock for the day, before we could determine the effective radius. With mixed bloods – which includes every Mazoku of high enough power levels to use these spells – resonant effects, sort of like harmonics, arise, that cannot be predicted."

"Although," said Aldrich sourly, "the anti-troll spells generally do kill trolls. Just – not controllably. Efram, you were just as likely to get a typhoon or a geyser or… Shinou knows, maybe a sudden stampede of flying trees. Some effects would hurt only the trolls, others would have killed everyone on the field. It's not your fault, Efram. You counter-attacked an assailant who might have killed Wolfram. The spell you chose… worked."

Efram lowered his eyes. Still hugging his knees, he nodded slowly.

Aldrich turned to Brendan. "So. That's how your father died."

"Your father?" cried Wolfram. "What?"

"There was a blond half-troll among the group you killed," said Brendan. "My father, Adeldan von Gratz." Brendan had no sympathy for the troll-killers at the moment. He turned to Aldrich. "But that's not all, Aldrich. Is it. You knew my father was alive, and you didn't tell me. Explain yourself. Cousin."

Aldrich studied his hand a few moments before answering quietly. "I didn't know – never knew – for sure. I didn't even suspect until three years ago. Brendan… I believed I was an eighth troll, and you and Adelbert as well. Until Franklin told me, and then all the structure of lies that supported that lie, just… fell apart. Then it was clear that your father was a half-troll… It's not likely he'd have died of breeding."

"But you didn't tell me," Brendan accused.

"I bloody well wish I had," Aldrich vented. "Instead I told Glynda I wanted a divorce, that her mental illness had gotten too severe, that Lord Wincott and I agreed it was best for her to divorce and go back to Wincott. And I told her I was a quarter troll, in the same conversation. The night she committed suicide, after Gwendal's men locked her in the dungeons to cool off, for disturbing the peace. And, Dietrich was eavesdropping on the whole damned thing."

"Oh, my –" Brendan gasped in horror. "Aldrich…"

Tears were running down Aldrich's face. "That's why. I thought you'd probably accept me even if you knew, that Chichi and Manfred and Elliott would, and… but… I just chose not… to test it. And you… Brendan, when your father walked out on you, and Adelbert couldn't be bothered to come back and rule the domain, you… Damn. To re-open those wounds, for nothing. That you and Adelbert were quarter trolls – I hinted to you about that, that there was doubt. There's a letter to you with my papers, in case I… didn't succeed this week. You needed to know that. But that your father might be alive… Hell, he made his choice. I understand it. But I'd never forgive him for it."

"Not your choice to make," said Brendan softly. "Though… I understand."

"Right," said Aldrich, wiping his face on his torn fragments of shirt ruffle. "And I apologize abjectly. You've grown into a fine man, Brendan von Gratz. I trust and treasure you as a friend, and try to treat you as an equal. But sometimes… the old habit of the elder cousin protecting the baby cousin kicks in, and… I fail to treat you with the respect you deserve as the man you've become. I'm truly sorry, and I hope you'll find a way to forgive me."

Brendan got up and walked over to him, holding out a hand. Aldrich stood and shook hands with him. Brendan said, "Understood, forgiven, and put behind us." He pulled Aldrich into an embrace over their joined hands.

"Bren, I'm sorry for your loss," said Aldrich. "Again. To lose him once was bad enough."

Brendan nodded and pulled away. "Thank you. And Rick – talk to me and tell me what I need to know. Don't protect me that way, but… I'm still lucky to have my big cousin to look up to, and to look after me."

Aldrich chuckled. "Even though your big cousin's been smaller than you for some time now."

"You have shrunk, especially these scrawny wings of yours," agreed Brendan, playfully demonstrating he could bracket Aldrich's upper arms between thumb and middle finger of his massive hands. Aldrich jabbed him with an elbow.

"So," said Aldrich, "now you've had a taste of our dark and nymphy secrets, are you overwhelmed by curiosity to stay and hear even worse? Or are you willing to leave now and let us deal with the darker family secrets without you?"

"Gah!" replied Brendan. "I leave it on your honor to tell me anything I really need to know. It's a pity you'll never get Grandfather-the-Moron's ugly genie back into its bottle. Though, the spells were actually Igor von Krist's monstrous gift to posterity."

There was a fair bit of milling around as everyone offered condolences on the death of Brendan's father. Brendan made a point of shaking hands with Wolfram and Efram. He said there was nothing to forgive them for – they killed his father in self-defense. He just needed to get the whole story before he could lay it to rest.

oOo

Once Brendan left, Tariel resumed control of the meeting. "There are other secrets. Garena?"

"What?" replied Garena defensively. The masculine half-nymph was getting more expressive as he spent time among his demon kin. He was holding his physique fairly close in size and build to Friedrich's now.

"Talk to Manfred."

Garena balked. Manfred sat forward, and demanded, "Yeah. Out with it already. You've been glaring and scowling at me, and criticizing my sons, ever since you got here. What is your problem with me, Uncle Garena?"

Garena glared back at him. "I'm not your uncle. I'm your father."

"You... You what?" Manfred gaped a moment, then scowled at him harder. "You – I'm the product of incest between you and your own half-sister?!"

"No. My great-nephew, Wolfred. He is… was…" Garena seemed to have an easier time grasping time tenses than the full wood nymph, but wasn't very fluent. "Wolfred was both, like Tariel. I am only male. You are very demon-like, so after you sprout, Wolfred brought you back to Bielenfeld to raise."

"He didn't really mean 'sprout', did he?" Aldrich quietly asked his father, in an aside. Friedrich made a gesture suggesting Aldrich let the pageant unfold.

"But you're –" began Efram, alternately addressing Garena and Manfred. "Chichiue, I've known Garena all my life. He's… my mother's grandfather. Aren't you?"

"Yes. You and Bertram are a lot wood nymph. And Manfred and Wolfram," replied Garena. "This is why we tell you now." He clearly regretted the necessity. "Manfred, I loved Wolfred. Neither of us liked your mother much."

Friedrich coughed. "Serious understatement… Manfred… this was news to me, too. Not that your mother wasn't your mother – I knew that. But you're obviously not only my great-grandson on the 'Emeraude look' side, as every wag in Bielenfeld has seen fit to comment along the way. Of course, they assumed you were my son by my own half-sister, and that I married Phoebe off to Wolfred to cover it up. I prefer the truth, but. Telling the world that Wolfred was your mother instead of your father, is not really in the family's best interests. All Wolfred said was that you were his child. Then, we married him to Phoebe to raise this… unexplained illegitimate son who looked more like my son."

"You knew Phoebe wasn't my mother," he accused Aldrich.

"Well, Manfred," said Aldrich, "knowing Wolfred, we couldn't figure out where you came from. Wolfred… wasn't just a little bit gay."

Gwendal chuckled. "You know, his infamous recommendation is still tacked to the wall in von Dienst's office, Aldrich. The one he wrote to my father when you entered the military. 'How Not to Write a Letter of Recommendation' is scribbled beneath it."

"Gah!" replied Aldrich in dismay. "General Lord Walde's subtitle read 'How to Destroy a Man's Career'." At Wolfram and Efram's urging, he explained, "Wolfred wrote my letter of recommendation." Wolfred was about forty-five years Aldrich's senior, and Wolfred stood in loco – very loco – big brother in Aldrich's youth. Aldrich easily mimicked Wolfred's over-the-top flaming queen mannerisms and tone to recite:

"'I commend for your consideration my darling sweet Uncle Aldrich. Were you in need of a nursery school officer, why today is your lucky day! His is a healing, nurturing soul, which would never do anyone a harm, bathing everyone round him in his loving glow. Indeed, the complaints you've suffered on account of my preferring only men would trouble you not at all with my dear uncle, who loves men, women, goblins, and ducks equally, and with vast appreciation.'"

Most of the men were chuckling at this joke they'd heard – and re-heard – many times. Wolfram was looking at Aldrich in horror. This was his recommendation to become a military officer? And I thought I had it bad, winning my commission in a beauty pageant…

Friedrich, with a green-eyed grin of near radioactive intensity, said, "I warned you not to trifle with Wolfred's costume collection, Aldrich. I remember the time Phoebe 'borrowed' some fishnet stockings and stilletto heels. He drugged her, shaved her bald as a billiard ball – everywhere – and left the hair in the bed so she'd think all her hair had fallen out overnight. Where did you buy such nice children, Elliott?"

Garena shook his head in dismay. "This is 'father'?"

Friedrich shot his brother a glance of unveiled contempt. "You abandon your son, then dare to criticize me and him for how he turned out? You didn't even try."

Tariel stepped in. "Garena, parent starts child, guides child, but… Can never control child. Only nudge. They are born who they are. If you love, you love who they are. Changing Bertram's diaper while he yells 'Chu-chu!' is easy part," he chided. Garena looked away, and nodded acceptance.

"Ducks?" Efram asked. "What… do you do with a duck? Goblins?"

Manfred grinned at Efram. He rather liked his children – liked them a lot – regardless of Garena's attitude.

"Never mind, Efram," said Aldrich firmly. "Then, after the most mystifying interview of my life with General von Walde, Wolfred takes me for a nude debut at the Blood Pledge Castle communal baths, and introduces me to all of his friends. Who invented astonishing details regarding my experience with goblin bath attendents in Trondheim. Not to mention the ducks."

"Well, it was nice of him to help you make friends here in Shin Makoku," offered Friedrich viciously.

"Oh, indeed, my dance card was full for weeks," replied Aldrich sourly. "And only two of them had lady ducks awaiting us in their quarters after dinner. Chichi, you were far too lenient with that nut-job – you were always laughing too hard to punish him!" Friedrich conceded the point with a wave of his hand, still chuckling. "Anyway. The point was, Manfred. You were too young to realize just how wrong a picture it was, Wolfred with any woman, let alone Aunt Phoebe."

Manfred tried to consider this, but his mind drifted astray again. "You know, Greta brought home quite a lot of goblins. Good bath-house attendants, eh?"

Aldrich glared at him. "Yes, ever so accommodating. I don't do the bath-house scene anymore, Manfred. Anyway. We digress. Why do you bring up Manfred's parentage, Garena? Tariel?"

"Several reasons," said Tariel. "Garena must know his family better. And family know him. Also, you learn more about wood nymph while we are here. You should know true level of wood nymph of everybody, not silly story. Manfred is my son's son, not…?"

"Great-great-grandson," Friedrich supplied – even he had to think about it to get it right. "Manfred is five sixteenths wood nymph, not one sixteenth as he thought – over a quarter. Cecilie is… one-eighth, so Wolfram is… nearly a quarter. But Efram and Bertram are… oh, also nearly a quarter. Conrad and Gwendal would be one sixteenth. And Dietrich… just over an eighth."

Tariel nodded emphatically. "This is important. Manfred does not know he is so much wood nymph. He does not know he looks for wood nymph. But his body does. He has many lovers. He knows a few have pretty eyes, knows Cecilie is distant relative, does not seem important. But his body has four children, each with different part wood nymph. His head appreciates many people. His body falls in love with wood nymph. Same for Garena. Same for Aldrich. Less strong for Cecilie, but still she marries man who everyone says is wrong. This is very strong pull."

"Four?" inquired Friedrich and Cecilie. They were aware of a fourth baby basket on Manfred's dining room wall. This missing fourth child's part wood nymph mother was an extra unexplained thing.

"Not the point," Tariel stifled them. "The point is, there are many demons. They see dwindling race and say 'incest' everywhere. But the pull of one's own kind is strong. Yuuri Maou especially, please understand. There are things like this about the dwindling races that you cannot fight, because you fight survival. You cannot make survival instinct a crime, or only criminals survive. You make loving parents into hating Tanyas.

"Wood nymph talk to many more races than demons. Some cannot speak to demons. Others hide. Others do not trust, even hate. Mistakes were made. Narrow minds and judgments and murders. So this group – us – speak for many races at this conference, who need our help to speak. Garena and Friedrich and I can speak to any race. Conrad and Gwendal can only speak standard language, but because you are wood nymph, my family, fearful races speak through you, trust you."

"Any race?" asked Friedrich. "Can I take the fire Mazoku races?"

"All but not dragons," replied Tariel, in the closest thing to a smile they'd seen on him yet. "I coordinate dragons."

"Can't I learn to talk to dragons?" wheedled Friedrich. It was funny to watch this nearly 800 year old patriarch wheedling his 'mother', who appeared as a human 10 year old boy.

"Alright," conceded Tariel. "You talk to dragons. Over next few days, Garena and I teach assignments, races to represent. Over next few weeks, you learn the people you help speak." Aldrich and Gwendal looked poised to say something. "But not you two. Both too busy, especially Aldrich with trolls."

"Though I already failed with the trolls," Aldrich said sadly.

"Not. Failed," Tariel asserted. "Last week, Garena and I see no way to peace. No need for dragon insurrection, no way to help. Aldrich and Yuuri together change everything. And we do not solve trolls. You do. We only make… 'protected garden where trust can sprout'. Even so, with dragons flying to Trondheim, Aldrich, Tanya would not yield. Fighting dragons is hard, but trolls fight well. She has more trolls than you know. If she fights, she can still win, half of ways. To a troll, that is good fight. You make her not fight, Aldrich, with Yuuri. Not failed. You just begin."

"But… how? How did we make her not fight?" asked Yuuri.

Tariel tried to answer exactly, since it was important input. "First night she comes, you talk. Suddenly one way in a hundred to peace – not very good chance, but never before we see any chance. That afternoon you talk to each other, not Tanya. Now five ways in a hundred. Garena and I think of ways to help, chances grow to ten ways in a hundred. That night you make Tanya very angry, very scared. Grows to twenty-five ways in a hundred. Grew to fifty ways by time Yuuri surrenders. When Tanya surrenders, maybe eighty ways."

"And now?"

"Still eighty. Twenty ways go very bad, five all demons killed or made slaves." She shrugged – these were good odds, especially for a wood nymph who could see ahead and continue adjusting the path. "So we work hard for peace."

"Agreed!" said Yuuri, echoed by everyone else.

"Now, most leave room. We talk to you more later. Now I talk to Aldrich and Wolfram alone." Except for the invited, most made to leave, but Manfred and Friedrich stayed rooted. Tariel looked at Friedrich. "Aldrich is grown man. He talks to you later if he wants to, about what he wants to, when he wants to. Same for Wolfram."

"It's alright, Chichi," said Aldrich. Wolfram nodded to Manfred as well. Their fathers reluctantly left, pulling Yuuri with them, who'd paused at the door, uncertain.

When they were gone, Tariel said, "You do maryoku signatures? Like…" He showed a green flame willow tree in his hand briefly.

Aldrich and Wolfram conjured up their signatures, an artfully wind-carved cypress tree and a Beautiful Wolfram flower, both in the fire healer's signature orange flame with a blue core.

Tariel nodded. "No surprise they are both plants. But you are taught wrong for you. Garena should also check Manfred. If he fix that mistake," he pointed to something in Wolfram's blossom, "he is more powerful healer.

"Aldrich, relax. Wolfram, make it bigger." Tariel stuck his hands into Wolfram's fire flower, and with his green fire, rearranged Wolfram's signature. It was the strangest sensation – as though by manipulating the fire, he was reaching inside Wolfram to rearrange his core from which the fire sprang. When Tariel removed his hands, the flame was a little different, the blues moved within the orange, and a green verge appeared between orange and blue. Wolfram could feel the difference. It wasn't something he could quite put into words, but the result was that his control and focus seemed clearer, more powerful.

Tariel nodded in satisfaction. "This is new to me.You are strong with animals."

"I love animals, always have," agreed Wolfram.

"Not what I mean. You are fire healer, yes. But you are special with animals. Your maryoku tells you what they need. You notice this?"

"No… Well… I mean I thought it was Yuuri and other people around me, who knew what the animals needed. But…"

"It is you. Because of this, you can speak to more races than Manfred or Aldrich, even though you are less wood nymph. You get harder assignments."

"Can I talk to dragons, too?"

Tariel shook his head in mild amusement. "Von Bielenfelds anddragons. Yes, you can talk to dragons, too. But I coordinate dragons. Only I.

"Now Aldrich, make big signature for me." He did, and Tariel smiled broadly. "This is not new to me." Again he reached into the fire, but instead of a fine adjustment, Tariel turned the signature completely inside out, so the orange formed the wood of the tree, a wide band of green the leaves, and blue danced a halo around the edges. "You are a plant person. Like me. You know this."

Aldrich laughed. His oasis was his garden at Castle Bielenfeld, his delight his personal potato plantation. Then, like Wolfram, he felt the change in himself. His maryoku had not simply gotten a power boost. It felt detangled, now running clear and strong and sure. "So I'm still not that great a fire healer, except for plants?"

"You are much better at both. You grow back your arm tonight. And healing plants is good. Especially if you want children.

"I ask you to stay in private because this is personal. You know I am both – male, but 'mother' of three von Bielenfelds. Theophilus and I worry maybe one of those three are both, like me, but none are. They just go both ways in which sex they pick – sometimes man, sometimes woman, very prefer wood nymph. I surprise when Wolfred and Wolfram and Aldrich are both. Like me."

Aldrich and Wolfram stared at him. They stared at each other. "Um… how?" Aldrich eventually managed to ask. "I can't turn myself into a woman like you do. Can I?" He looked distinctly unwilling to try it.

"I don't turn into a woman. Is just appearance. Wood nymphs are tree spirits." Tariel shrugged. "Many trees, most flowers, are male and female. Aldrich knows this."

"Do you, um, have a womb?" Wolfram asked Aldrich. "I'm pretty sure Chichiue would have noticed if I did."

"No, and I'm very sure he and Chichi would have mentioned it, even if I missed it somehow…"

"No womb. You are not women. But, you are part tree. You are female because you make seeds. Wolfred needs my help to grow Manfred, and not so strong – only one sprout. But Aldrich is good gardener. You can do this yourself and help others."

"So Garena did mean to say 'when Manfred sprouted'," Aldrich said faintly.

oOo

Sorry, couldn't resist the temptation to make them able to bear their own children. Sorta. Heh. I reserve the right to change my mind for further stories…

Please review? Pretty please?