As it turns out, a once-prince is not an easy thing to find. When I lost his scent in the stench of the crowd and the wares they were clamoring for, I was reduced to asking around. An exiled prince carting two faerie-filled crates marked with the royal warring emblem shouldn't be a hard thing to find, right? Someone had to have seen him—or so I thought.

Every shopper I questioned shook his or her head, some looking frightened as they did so, before walking away as swiftly as their weight-carrying appendages could take them. The sellers, when I found myself suddenly crushed against a stall by the crowd, merely waved the question away and shoved their merchandise into my face, inquiring as to whether or not I'd seen anything finer.

Anyway, at one point in my search I found myself smack-dab in the middle of the path of a raving hoard of vanities—that is, tall, elegant creatures that must deck themselves out in the most beautiful things, lest they wither and die—as they barreled through the Market, all of them racing toward a just-opened stall selling fine (and most probably stolen) silks and such for clothing. I found myself, along with so many others, unable to move out of their way fast enough to avoid a collision, and what should I find myself being pummeled into but the broad bicep of the famous Mister Wink!

It was just as a vanity's elbow ever-so-gracefully jabbed me in the ribs that I had my epiphany. Wink was a good troll, right? Well, good as it gets among trolls, anyway. Judging by the fact that he was a good head taller than anyone in the crowd, I figured if there was anyone who'd seen Nuada and his war-crates, it was him, and he wouldn't be one to lie about it.

I managed to peel my face away from the football-sized bulge of pure muscle that was Wink's arm long enough to crane my neck up and catch a glimpse of his fierce profile before the vanity equivalent of a catfight broke out beside me, knocking me to the floor. The floor of the overflowing-full Troll Market is in no way a safe or sanitary place to be. This was proved when a massive cloven hoof stomped down hardly an inch away from my hand (which was resting on something that looked disgustingly like the remains of a squashed tooth faerie), followed by a thunderous roar that for a moment silenced the whole Market.

I could feel all sorts of filth seeping into my jacket, and I knew I was either going to have to wash it or burn it sometime very soon.

Speaking of my jacket, I suddenly felt a powerful tug on the back of the black garment and all at once I was lifted into the air. I was raised by an impressively crafted mechanical hand to Wink's eye-level, and for the first time ever I got a good look at the famed blacksmith.

His flesh was the color of grey slate, and his powerful arms, immense bare chest, and hunched shoulders were all devoid of any hair whatsoever—his back had a number of spines still bristling from the remnants of his anger, though. His rather prominent brow preceded a pair of small, glistening yellow eyes, followed by a squished-looking nose and a long expanse of bare face before ending with bluish lips and a short but thick beard that traveled from his jaw to his temples. Poking out from that beard were two tusks on either side of his chin, one of which was broken and had a jagged end.

"Hello," was the first thing I said, for lack of anything else to say. Wink blinked at me and sniffed before opening his mouth and growling a greeting in troll's tongue, which is just a little different than Elvish. "Be careful," he told me, "little demon."

He set me down carefully very close to him so that for the most part his bulk sheltered me from the current of packed-in bodies. I had to look almost straight up to see his face again as I asked quickly asked him before he got a chance to move on, "Thank you for saving me, good Mister Wink. I…have a question for you, if that is alright."

Wink used his mechanical right hand to effortlessly brush away the pair of quarreling vanities before dipping his head. "What is it, little demon?"

"Have you…seen Prince Nuada? I saw him in the Market and I've been looking for him. Have you seen him, good Mister Wink?"

The troll looked down at me, his eyes wide with surprise. Finally, blinking rapidly, he shook his large head and growled in troll's tongue, "Not seen Nuada. Why do you seek him, the exiled prince, little demon?"

I shrugged at him, forcing my face to look as innocent as demonically possible. "No reason, good Mister Wink. I thought I saw him and was only curious as to why he was visiting the Market. But if you say you did not see him, surely it couldn't have been him, for with your height you must see everything. Thank you, good Mister Wink!" I said cheerily.

"You are welcome, little demon." He sounded sincere, but his face looked troubled as he turned and waded through the mass of shoppers.

See what he's up to! Curiosity told me this time. He knows where Nuada is, doesn't he? Follow him!

"Right-o, then," I mumbled only to myself before setting out again after the hastily retreating back-spines of Mister Wink.

--

A/N

Not much to say here. I made up the vanities, so there.

I want a Mister Wink as a pet. I will feed him and he will live in my closet.

And then I want a Nuada for my birthday. And a Hellboy for Christmas!

Review please!!