#ahlhound

[hyperpsychomaniac]

I've actually been meaning to draw this for ages, back when I wrote 'The Curse of the Black Hound'. But never did, because I only had Erik turn into a Barghest. I just remembered it for some reason, and so... I give you Erik and Gerda as Barghests.

The plot if this had a plot:

Erik is being an idiot yet again, and gets into a spot of trouble with some Trolls outside Trolberg. Gerda tries to rescue him, but gets caught up in the Troll-magic-blast, and, suddenly, they're both Barghests.

This causes problems, as Safety Patrol doesn't know what has happened to Erik or their Chief Officer - no bodies, but there are very clearly Barghests seen in the area, including one with some striking (and very hard to hide colouring). The Chief has been implementing some changes recently, encouraging the officers to think twice before engaging the magical creatures in the area, to try and investigate without violence, at least at first. Not everyone is happy with these very recent changes. With her out of the picture, will they continue to follow her lead in her absence, and take the time to find out what really happened? Or will they revert to old ways, and hunt down the animals that seem so obviously to be responsible?

Meanwhile, Gerda and Erik, are still not on the best of terms after the wall, and certainly not after Erik has gone and turned them into these creatures. Gerda, who would usually just take over in situations like this... just... can't seem to get control of this new body. There are too many legs, and any athletic attempt that would come easily to her in her human body ends in a tangle of limbs and derp. As if that's not bad enough, in this form she does not have the good camouflage genes and stands out far too easily, even without the clumsiness. Erik, though he takes to his new body fairly well, has about the exact same level of common sense as before - attacking things bigger than him, running out and barking at Safety Patrol to get their attention, etc. But they're going to have to learn to work together, as a team, if they're going to get out of this mess - Erik's going to have to listen to Gerda and do what she tells him, and Gerda's going to have to depend on Erik.

[thesealanterns]

This reminded me of @hyperpsychomaniac alhound story with gerdas

(Don’t know how accurate)

[hyperpsychomaniac]

More Erik and Gerda as Barghests doodles.

[hyperpsychomaniac]

POV: you slam 10 kV into the Barghest that ate your best friend and just put your deputy in its mouth. Except the Barghest is your best friend. Also you collateral electrocuted your deputy.

From this fic

[hyperpsychomaniac]

So I decided my drawing skills were finally up to the task of drawing that scene from curse of the black hound where Erik changes into the Hound. And it’s… messy. And Gerda runs smack bang into him and literally can’t compute what’s going on.

Just smacking a mature tag on it cause it is a bit bloody just in case. I mean I wrote it to traumatise poor Gerda so.

[hyperpsychomaniac]

The Curse of the Black Hound - Final Chapter

Summary: Sequel to 'Lost in the Wilderness'. Erik Ahlberg has a problem. And he’ll solve it like a man - by himself, and dragging no one he cares for needlessly into the whole confounded mess. Gerda is having none of it. She’s determined to figure out why he’s being so secretive and protect him, whether he likes it or not. But when Erik finally asks for help, he finds himself alone, with those he’d always thought would stand by him, his biggest threat.

First Chapter

***

The ocean crashed against the shore, waves lapping. A chip arced through the air, almost hitting the seagull Hilda aimed for. Another gull darted in to snatch it away, earning a squawk from the intended recipient, followed by a short chase. Hilda picked up another chip, but instead of eating it or throwing it away, she looked up at Erik, catching his eye as he followed her movements. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

The question stirred him. Erik realised he’d been sitting there, staring at nothing, for lord knew how long. He squared his shoulders. “Yes. Of course.”

“You usually tell me not to waste food. But you’re being very quiet. You know, for you.”

Erik rolled his eyes. “Would you prefer I prattle on about… I don’t know. Something I probably made up. Whatever it is I usually talk about. Nothing. I talk about nothing a lot.”

“Erik, you only turned back into… you, a few days ago. I’m glad you called Mum and that you wanted to see me. I was worried about you. I want to know you’re okay.”

Erik closed his eyes briefly, shoulders sagging. When he’d called, instead of the usual third degree followed by a growing list of rules she expected him to adhere to, Johanna had asked how he was feeling. It was unexpected, and it had stirred in him the memory of her taking care of him, when Hilda went to talk to Safety Patrol. Of course, Hilda would be even more concerned for him. He wished he’d called her earlier, even just to talk on the phone. But, he had had many things on his mind, and, for once, hadn’t felt like talking.

“You got hurt. You slept the night in my room, and I may not have known it was you, but you were really shaken up. I wish I’d realised sooner. I could’ve helped you better when I first found you.”

Foremost in Erik’s mind had been how stupid he’d been. In retrospect, he could have saved himself so much trouble and pain. And Gerda too. To think he’d convinced himself he’d been doing right by her, keeping his problems to himself. “That wasn’t your fault. I should have told you. Or rather, I should have told Gerda. I shouldn’t have involved you at all. I just thought I was stuck like that. But now…” Erik turned over his hands. Even handing his cash to the cashier, the fact he could hold things again, had thumbs, seemed like a miracle. Being able to fit back inside his house, even doing the house chores, they were small things, but each seemed to carry more joy than even something like his medal had initially brought him. He forced a grin. “But, hey, I’m back! Trolberg better look out!”

Hilda folded her arms. “If you are okay, how come you haven’t eaten any of the chips?”

Erik had been thinking about what he had planned for later, contemplating whether he should tell Hilda. Now, he realised, that was why he’d called her mother to ask if it was okay if he take her out after school. “Those are for you. I… I’m going out with Gerda later.”

He instantly regretted it, as Hilda flashed him a wicked grin. “What, really? Like a date?”

Erik flushed. “No! She’s my friend.”

“But you were going to. Take her on a date, I mean. Remember? In the coffee shop? Except, you kind of… well, I don’t know what you were doing, but I suppose you realised you were about to change into the Black Hound.”

It seemed a world ago, rushing out of the coffee shop after causing such a commotion. After that performance, Gerda should have known to steer clear. And after what he’d put her through? He had not expected her to call him so soon.

“Sorry I bailed on you like that.”

“In retrospect, I think it’s understandable.”

“But that wouldn’t have been a date either. At least, I don’t think so. It’s just Safety Patrol was there, and it was so awkward. We aren’t anywhere near something like that. Especially after all this. We need to talk. There’s… it just feels like so much has happened between us since then. And it wasn’t good.”

The last time he’d seen her, Gerda had been a wreck, sobbing in his arms. She’d always been the one to take charge, even when he’d technically been in charge. She’d always known what to do, always been the one to act - unless taking action was foolhardy. Seeing her in such a mess had wrenched his heart, and he’d just wanted to hold her. But, he was not foolish enough to think that as much as he’d been there for her, that was enough to mend the rift he’d caused between them, with his stupid, stubborn ego.

After Safety Patrol took them both to their respective homes, and Erik convinced them he did not need to be rushed to the hospital for a full do over, he’d collapsed on his sofa, not even making it to his bed. He’d slept until after noon. He’d woken to a knock on his door. Dorothy stood there, smiling up at him.

“Those nice Safety Patrol boys who brought you home last night explained what happened. I figured you might be feeling a little under the weather, and might not be up to cooking.” She held up a steaming dish. The smell of tuna, pasta, and far too much cheese wafted up. She’d handed it to him, then, unexpectedly, wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I’m glad you’re still with us, sweetheart. It wouldn’t be the same without you over the fence to brighten my day. I know you’ve been struggling. Not only with what happened just now, but since you left Safety Patrol. You know if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m right next door. I have a bit of life experience, after all.”

“I will. Thankyou,” he’d replied, though it hadn’t sounded like that at all. Then he’d kicked the front door closed, rushing into the kitchen to put down the dish, so he could wipe away the tears that had sprung to his eyes. He’d done quite enough of that this week already.

The next few days he’d spent recovering, and thinking through all the choices he’d made, which now didn’t seem that good at all. His energy had been crap, like he was recovering from a bad flu, and he’d ended up feeling a little mopey, and useless. He’d eventually dragged himself out to his doctor, just to check. Nothing wheresoever wrong with him, which, his doctor had said, was rather unusual seeing he’d been presumed dead a week ago. Erik hadn’t appreciated the joke. He’d butted around the house for most of the rest of the week, and had only just starting to feel like getting out, when the phone rang. He’d been in good enough spirits by then not to ignore it.

And Gerda had asked him, stammering and fumbling and searching for words she could usually easily find, if she could buy him dinner. He’d agreed, she’d set a time, and then hung up on him in a flustered rush.

“And anyway, she insisted she was the one taking me to dinner, that she would pay.” Erik huffed. “It doesn’t feel quite right. I’d usually pay - like my mother taught me.”

“She feels bad about hurting you.”

“She shouldn’t. It’s not her fault.”

“It’s not yours either. Those Trolls turned you into a Barghest. It’s theirs.”

“I still feel like I should be the one making it up to her.” Erik fidgeted, his hat twisting in his hands. “I thought stirring up the Trolls was hard work. But this? Ever since the wall, just… trying to figure out where I went wrong and making sure I never let myself get back to a place like that ever again?” Erik gulped at the lump in his throat. “Hilda, this is the hardest thing I have ever done. I thought I’d got on top of it. But after all the stupid things I just did? I just… I’m not sure I’ve got… what it takes… to… to…” He trailed off, staring at the waves crashing against the shore, not trusting his voice to remain strong, not sure he knew what he wanted to say.

Hilda squeezed his hand. “You’re doing okay, you know?”

Erik looked at her small hand over his. His chest tightened. “I’d be dead if not for you.”

He’d spoken softly, and though she had to have heard him, Hilda smiled, and continued, as if he’d said nothing. “You are, you know? I don’t think you would have even thought to be worried about Gerda before the wall.”

Erik’s shoulders slumped. He must have behaved really badly if Hilda thought he wouldn’t have shown some concern if something had upset Gerda as much as his actions had now. He couldn’t have been so caught up in himself that he wouldn’t have at least noticed, surely? Suddenly, Erik wasn’t so sure. He had, after all, almost destroyed an entire city. “Gerda. Gerda’s got more hurt out of all this than I did. Certainly more than she ever deserves. Right now I can’t even think of working through anything else. I just want to make sure she’s going to be okay.”

“You know, I think Gerda would appreciate you’re worried about her. Maybe if you care so much about just that… maybe that means if you guys do like each other that way… maybe it’ll just happen, eventually.”

Erik shook himself and smiled faintly. “Maybe.”

“Either way…” And that wicked look crept back onto Hilda’s face. “I guess you’re about to find out.”

***

Gerda’s first day back had not been as hectic as she’d imagined. Selby, who’d conveniently forgotten he’d promised to take time off the same as she, had kept everything in order. Still, there was paperwork to catch up on. That had been a good distraction, and she had spent most of the day going over what she had missed in her few days’ leave.

Now, late in the afternoon, her impending meeting with Erik weighed heavily on her heart. He had not seemed quite himself on the phone, the usual energy in his voice lacking, instead he had sounded wary, and unsure. That was understandable. Gerda had almost slammed the phone down in his ear when he answered. He wouldn’t want to talk to her. But he had, and he’d agreed to meet up. She just had to figure out what she would do, or say, to make it up to him.

Rather than meet Erik in the office where people would see, and that would surely start all sorts of rumours that Gerda wasn’t ready to deal with, she made her way outside. Across the wide grassed area in the Safety Patrol yard, Jellybean was being trained. Gerda had assigned David’s mother the task, as she said she’d trained a few dogs when she was younger.

As Gerda approached, Jellybean saw her, and made to move from his sitting position to greet her, but a command from David’s mother kept him rooted to the spot. Instead, he wagged his tail happily, tongue hanging out.

“I heard you’re going to see Ahlberg for dinner,” said David’s mother, a smile creeping onto her face.

Gerda’s shoulders sagged. “That has gotten around already? I only told Selby.”

“In all fairness, he didn’t spill,” she said, running her hand through Jellybean’s coat. “At least, not at first. You had your office door open when you told him. And then Harry started pressing him…”

“It’s not a date anyway,” said Gerda, as her cheeks grew warm. “I need to make… well, things, up to him.”

David’s mother put a hand on her arm. “Look, it’s Erik Ahlberg. I’m not sure what you see in him, but he seemed pretty concerned over how upset you were. I think, between some things David has told me about him, and what I’ve seen, he can give you a break for slipping a little. You were doing the best with the information you had.”

Jellybean barked and jerked upright.

“Jellybean, sit!”

Jellybean whined, but his backside plonked back onto the grass. He clearly wanted to move, his tail jerking his whole rear end around.

“Still, if a dog likes him this much, maybe he’s not all that bad.”

David’s mother looked across the paddock, and Gerda followed her gaze. Her heart quickened. Erik walked from the Safety Patrol office; it was his entrance that had got Jellybean all excited. He had his hands thrust in his pockets, watching his feet, but he picked up his gaze as Jellybean barked again, and smiled. It was for the Hound, but Gerda still felt her spirits lift. His ordeal couldn’t have knocked him around that much if he could still smile like that.

“I think this is my cue to leave,” said David’s mother. She tossed Jellybean one last treat. “Which I guess means we’re done…”

Jellybean turned his head and practically vacuumed the treat out of the air. Then he was off like a shot, racing across the paddock for Erik. Erik’s smile slowly faded, his eyes widened, and he raised his hands.

“Jellybean!” David’s mother called. “No! We don’t sit on people!”

Jellybean skidded to a stop right in front of Erik, then licked him across the face. Erik shuddered, then sat down hard on the grass. Jellybean pushed his snout into him. Erik held him back with one hand, which did nothing to deaden the Hound’s excitement. “Hi, to you too, Jellybean.”

Gerda dashed over. “Erik! Are you okay?”

“I’m wet,” Erik scowled. “But otherwise fine.”

Gerda held out a hand and hauled him to his feet. He stared down at her, hand still clasped in hers. Gerda flushed and tugged it back.

“Jellybean! Come on, leave them alone. I’ve got more treats for you!”

Jellybean barked and ran around behind Erik, nudging him with his snout in a hasty goodbye. Erik stumbled forward and bumped into Gerda. He stepped back, flushing. “Sorry.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Wet… oh. I’m fine. I guess. Nothing a bit of rest, and my neighbour’s been at my door constantly giving me enough food to feed all of Safety Patrol, won’t fix.”

With him standing here now, everything Gerda had felt over the past few days came welling up inside her. He was okay. She reached out a hand and brushed his arm, starting as she felt him solid beneath her touch. Yes, he was still there.

“Hey.” Erik put his hand over hers before she could move it away and smiled softly. “What about you? How are you feeling?”

“I… I am okay, I guess. I just… I know you had a really rough time with it all. And that… that was kind of my fault, so…” She tugged her hand back, tucking it under one arm, and looked away.

Erik’s shoulders sagged. “Gerda, I’m not mad at you. I’d just like to spend some time together, and…. I mean, I didn’t exactly make things easy for you. So I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Gerda gulped, feeling tears prick her eyes. “I would like to make sure you are okay as well.”

Erik hugged her. It was sudden, warm, and all-encompassing, his huge arms completely wrapping around her. She could smell his cologne, the musky scent a little thick this close, but nicer than the last time he’d held her, smelling of sweat and trembling faintly himself, even as he’d tried to comfort her. He held her for a long moment. She felt his chest rise and fall, his fingers gripping into the back of her cloak.

Gerda cleared her throat as she pushed him back and hastily swiped a glove under her eye. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Where did you want to go? I’ll take you anywhere you want. I don’t care how expensive.”

They turned and headed towards the Safety Patrol compound’s gates. Erik shifted closer to her shoulder as they walked, brushing up against her. “How about,” he said, after a moment. “We just get something like fish and chips and go down to the beach. It’ll be nice and quiet, just us. And we can talk.”

“You’re sure you’re happy with something like that?”

Erik smiled down at her. “Yeah. Sometime, I think maybe it’s nice not to make it a big performance, you know?”

***

Inside the Safety Patrol office, those nearest to the windows overlooking the paddock were crowded around, cracking open and peering through the dusty metal blinds.

“Oh my gods, they just hugged!”

“Move over, I want to see.”

“What are they doing now?”

“Leaving…”

“Are they holding hands?”

Standing beside the front counter, waiting for his coffee to cool, the Bellkeeper rolled his eyes with a groan. “This is why I hate coming into the office.”

[hyperpsychomaniac]

And I'm finally finished this. Took way too long, lol. *cries in corner*

[hyperpsychomaniac]

Not the fic yet buuuut I have drafted / braindumped the first three chapters and got a rough outline/plot for the rest of this. So I guess I’ll repost this when I post the first chapter.

I don’t know I just really wanted to take a crack at drawing a whole stack of characters.

[thesealanterns]

Dogs

[hyperpsychomaniac]

That moment in the cafe.

I’d planned for these two to bump into each other but it wasn’t until I actually wrote the scene that Erik decided to go all dorky. So now I guess I’m shipping them.

[thesealanterns]

More fanart for @hyperpsychomaniac and there story

(Tried to use the same scared/worried expression you gave Erik)

[hyperpsychomaniac]

Gerda’s on the warpath.

This is going to be in my next fic. As in, that exact line of dialogue. Simple as it is, I can just hear Gerda saying it.

[hyperpsychomaniac]

The Curse of the Black Hound

Summary: Sequel to 'Lost in the Wilderness'. Erik Ahlberg has a problem. And he’ll solve it like a man - by himself, and dragging no one he cares for needlessly into the whole confounded mess. Gerda is having none of it. She’s determined to figure out why he’s being so secretive and protect him, whether he likes it or not. But when Erik finally asks for help, he finds himself alone, with those he’d always thought would stand by him, his biggest threat.

Authors note: Ao3 is being a butt. So I'm starting posting this here, and will chuck it up there once it looks like it's cooperating again. Please feel free to leave comments :)

***

“Hilda, wait! We need to start on our project right away!”

Hilda winced and drew to a halt outside the Edmund Ahlberg School gates. She’d hoped to escape. Get away before her friends questioned her and simply apologise after the fact. And not because of the project; Frida would end up doing most of it, anyhow. It was because her friends would have something to say about her plans for the afternoon.

Frida caught up and skidded to a stop. She panted, hands on her knees, then straightened. “It’s due in just under two weeks.”

“It’ll take us two hours,” said Hilda. “Especially as you’re on our team. We don’t have to worry about it yet.”

Frida grasped Hilda’s shoulders and dragged her in so they stood nose to nose. “We always have to worry about it.”

David caught up with them. Clearly not worried about the short essay, he had not been running. “You don’t need to stress out, Frida. Hilda’s right, it’ll be easy. Although, I don’t think that’s why she doesn’t want to start on it today… is it?”

Hilda’s shoulders slumped. “I promised I’d hang out with Erik, okay?”

“Again?” said Frida.

“I don’t do it that often! Besides, he’s my friend now. I know you guys don’t get that, but…” Hilda cut herself off with a huff, folding her arms, scrunching up her face and looking away.

“No,” said David, “I suppose you don’t hang out that often. Or rather, he doesn’t hang out with you that often. Didn’t you say he’d left early last time?”

“Well…” It had been a couple of months since she and Erik got lost in the Wilderness. Since he’d apologised for the way he’d treated her, and they had become friends. The first month had been fine. They had seen each other sometimes twice a week, which was all her mother seemed happy to allow. But, one night, he’d become flustered and taken off in a rush. After that, his visits had been less frequent, and he’d seemed distracted.

Not that Erik had ditched her, although that was what both Frida and David made it sound like. “Last time he had to leave, he said his shoulder was hurting him,” Hilda explained. “He leaped in front of a Barghest to save me, you know.”

Frida sighed. “We know. But you don’t have to explain it to us. We’re your friends. If it’s something you want to do, we’ll support you.”

“Even if it doesn’t make much sense,” said David with a huff.

“David!”

“I know! I’m sorry.” He sighed. “At least can we walk you to where you’re meeting him?”

Hilda smiled faintly. “Sure.”

The coffee shop where she and Erik usually met was only a few blocks away, halfway between the school and the car yard where he worked. Hilda had no desire to spend much time there. It was simply a convenient place to meet. She’d usually find Erik waiting out the front, sipping an enormous paper cup of coffee. He said it helped perk him up. Especially since his new job was more boring than Safety Patrol paperwork.

Curious, one afternoon Hilda asked if she could try it. Erik wholeheartedly agreed. And, instead of letting her take a sip of his, he took her up to the counter and allowed her to choose whatever she wanted. Never having had coffee before, Hilda had been a little confused. Apparently, ‘shots’ didn’t refer to how much hazelnut flavoring you wanted. Meanwhile, Erik stood there, watching gleefully as she confused the poor barista, but never explained to her what she had asked for, nor what she ended up getting. It had tasted delicious, but Hilda hadn’t slept a wink. Johanna had not been pleased.

As they approached, Hilda felt her stomach sink. The table out the front, where Erik would wait for her, was empty.

“I thought you said he finished a half hour before school finishes?” said David, a growl creeping into his voice.

“Usually,” said Hilda. “Sometimes he’s a bit late if he has a customer. His boss won’t just let him leave…”

“Hilda,” said Frida. “I know he helped you and all, and I know you two worked out whatever bad blood was between you, but… that doesn’t mean you have to always hang out with him, especially because, well…”

“Especially because he’s Erik Ahlberg,” said David, cutting over Frida. “You know, the guy who nearly destroyed Trolberg, because he wouldn’t listen to you.”

“He said he was sorry about that!”

“Sometimes sorry is just words!” said David. “And I don’t know, maybe he meant them, and maybe he did mean to save you from that Hound, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop being a jerk overnight. Look at what he’s doing to you now - it’s like he’s only hanging out with you whenever it works in with whatever he’s up to.”

“Exactly,” said Frida. “And you can bet he’s up to something.”

“Neither of you were there. You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Hilda had tried to explain to her friends how she felt. Sure, he was still Erik Ahlberg. Frustrating as hell, and sometimes, if he got moody, a little mean. But when he was fun, he was fun, and he’d talk to her about adventures, both made up and real. He was always interested in her drawings or latest story idea, more so than Frida and David ever were.

Being around him, she just felt a safe. If a creature that was all teeth and claws attacked her, she knew he’d throw himself in the way. He already had. And got hurt. Every time she’d catch him wincing if he moved his shoulder a little too boisterously, which he often did when he got excited, Hilda felt a brief stab of guilt.

David sighed, and when he spoke again, some of the anger had left his voice. “We’re just worried about you, is all. We don’t want you to get hurt if he decides he’s bored with you.” He reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder.

Hilda snatched her arm back and threw herself into the chair at the table. She dug a book out of her satchel, wrenched it open, then plunked it down hard on the table and shoved her nose into it.

“Hilda,” said Frida, “please don’t be like that.”

Hilda scrunched down so her chin almost rested on the table, so she couldn’t see her friends over the horizon of the book.

“Fine,” said Frida. “Well, we have an essay to write, I guess. And I’m not waiting to rush at the last minute just because you’re pouting. Come on, David.”

“It isn’t due for two weeks!” David let out a long-suffering sigh. His shoes scuffed the concrete. “Well, um, Hilda? Look, I’m going to go with Frida. But if you need us for anything… we’ll always be there, okay? You know, in case Ahlberg isn’t.”

Hilda glared at her book until the words blurred. Finally, she couldn’t help but look up. All she saw was David’s retreating back as he caught up with Frida.

Her friends were gone. No longer challenging her. Hilda felt the tension in her shoulders seep out. The book was Erik’s. She shouldn’t have banged it on the table so hard. The pages were yellowing, and the spine had become a little brittle, but it wasn’t past reading as long as you weren’t too rough with it. Emil Eckhart’s, one Erik had taken a great deal of trouble to pick from his collection, after Hilda’s insistence that the female characters in the ones she had found at the library were boring and fainted far too often. Erik had been determined to prove her assessment wrong and had said he’d bring one which had a character who kind of reminded him of Gerda. Then he’d flushed and added, “Not like on page 307 though.”

Erik had been so excited to lend it to her. Even if he had, at the last minute, held onto it for a second longer than he needed to, like he was rethinking lending such a precious thing as a book to a child.

Hilda glanced up the footpath, towards the car yard, and gulped at the lump in her throat. She could see what was keeping him. Or rather, that he was still there. But she knew he wouldn’t be long. Maybe she’d draw Erik’s favorite character from this book. Just not what she was doing on page 307.

***

Erik Ahlberg was on a mission. He had a problem to solve. And he’d solve it like a man. By himself, and without dragging anyone he cared for needlessly into the whole confounded mess. All he needed, he’d decided, was the right reference material. But he still needed help to locate that material. That meant he had to talk to a librarian.

“Werewolves?” Kaisa raised an eyebrow.

Erik resisted the urge to tug at his collar. The woman was half his height, barely more than a girl. Besides, he was an adult now. If he lost a book all he need do was admit the error and pay a fine. No one would show up at his front door, dark as shadow, and ask his mother whatever had become of the book he’d borrowed nearly three months ago.

“Have you tried the fiction section?” said Kaisa.

“I’m not looking for fiction.”

“Well, I must not have heard you correctly, then. Because I’m certain you asked about- “

“I’m researching something!”

“Not much use researching something that doesn’t exist.”

“Well then,” Erik said tersely, “if you think it’s such a ridiculous notion, why don’t you recommend a—“

Kaisa whipped out a hard bound volume from under her trolley and slapped it into Erik’s hands.

Erik ran a hand over the cover. The spine was still strong despite the wear of the leather. “What’s this supposed to be?”

Kaisa shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea. You’re the one who needs it.” And with that, she grabbed her trolley, swiveled it expertly around him, and disappeared into the stacks.

“Wait…” Erik groaned. “Bloody useless librarians.” Despite his doubts, Erik’s hands worked with a mind of their own, opening the book and flicking over the pages.

It was a book of mythology. Erik supposed that’s what had brought on the ‘have you tried fiction’ quip, although he was sure mythology sat somewhere in between fiction and non-. His eyes caught the bold and gilded title of one section.

Erik slammed the book shut with a heavy thump, startling some college-aged students studying nearby. He checked the book out. And, within fifteen minutes, he was thumbing through the section as he headed down the footpath towards home.

It was a collection of stories. And the one which had caught his eye? The Monster King. Erik was unsure of what he was looking for, so going with his gut seemed as good a guess as any. And probably more useful than asking a librarian.

As with many older books, the story was wordy and took a while to get to the point. Erik skimmed the text as he walked. He’d always been able to read quickly. As a child, he’d felt the faster he read, the more he absorbed. That maybe he’d absorb a hero who always got things right and nobody laughed at, and even should the surrounding characters pressure him into preforming the tasks a hero should, he always pulled those tasks off with the greatest of ease.

It would’ve been a brilliant talent for reading Safety Patrol Procedures. If only his brain didn’t switch it off as soon as he lost interest in a topic. But this was worded as a story, and his interest in the subject matter he hoped to find was desperately high.

The Monster King told the story, funnily enough, of a king. He, like the heroes Erik used to love, was strong and mighty, and he pulled off many great feats - fighting and killing the monsters that plagued his kingdom. This the book went on about in great detail and Erik flicked through those pages quickly. But not so quickly that he missed the main point, which was that the king had not been mighty all on his own. The spirits of his people had bestowed on him his strength to protect them.

But the King became conceited. He forgot the spirits. He drank up his peoples’ praise and gave no credit to the supernatural powers that worked through him.

The spirits, as powerful spirits often seemed to do in these stories, became angry with the King. And so, they transformed him into one of the Monsters he had once fought. He wandered the land until he thanked those spirits, begged for their forgiveness, and only then did they restore him to his former glory.

Erik stared at the pages and swallowed hard. The king had been punished for his arrogance. He’d been turned into a beast.

But it was just a story. Fiction was right. In reality, arrogance could do far worse. Now, if the King’s actions had destroyed his people, that would have been realistic. The image of his mother rising beneath Trolberg stabbed into his mind.

Erik repressed a shudder and slammed the book shut. “Bah. Divine judgment? That’s no kind of explanation. I need facts! Not…” He looked around him. At the trees and rocks. And Trolberg and its encircling wall. Behind him.

“Damn it. Not again.” The sun was setting. He’d set out intending to head towards home. He would have thought that, even with his nose in a book, he’d find his way.

But not since the Barghest had ripped into his back. Tearing into him, putting him in hospital. He’d thought, once he’d got out, the worst of it was over.

But no. It was not just annoying exercises he couldn’t see the point of, that hurt, and wondering if he’d ever get full strength back in his arm, that he had to contend with. Not even the nightmares. Of the Hound. That brought back the nightmares of destroying Trolberg, and the two had blended into terrors that ended in waking in cold sweats. That had not been the worst of it.

Now, increasingly, he found himself drawn to the outskirts of Trolberg, out towards the Wilderness. Not so bad when he was working, or focused on something. But as soon as he became distracted, he’d find himself heading to the wall.

And then there was the night everything had gone crazy. Crazy enough, he felt he’d been turned inside out. And, once it was over, had sent him searching through books of mythology in the library, daring to speak with librarians.

“Alright, you’re fine, Erik. The book just distracted you. That’s all.” He backed towards the wall. “It’s not like last time. Before things went south, you started…”

He winced as a stab went through his shoulder, and the healed wound across his back began to tingle. He shifted his book under his other arm and rolled his shoulder. That usually helped loosen his muscles.

“It’s just carrying this big, heavy book. Your doctor said, don’t lift too much weight, and…” He looked at the book, and sighed. It was big for a book, but hardly a dead weight.

His shoulders slumped. “Who are you lying to, Erik? You’re the only one out here.” He glanced back at Trolberg. Lights were winking on, now that the sun had set. Despite the faint, wild tug on something inside of him, the thing that drew him to the Wilderness, he wanted to return to Trolberg’s safety.

But would it be safe for Trolberg if he returned? If what happened last time happened again… No. He couldn’t do that. His actions had already nearly destroyed his home. Nearly killed hundreds of people.

Yeah, the Monster King had got off light. Perhaps, Erik thought, as he turned to head back out into the Wilderness, this time by choice, the Monster King had taken himself away from his kingdom for the same reason. Erik smiled to himself. Here he was, doing the right thing. The unfortunate thing was no one was around to see him do it.

“So, here you are again, little human.”

Erik stiffened as a Troll stepped out of the trees and broke into a massive grin. Erik definitely recognised him this time. Both from the front lines that night outside Trolberg, and, as one of the three who had chased him and Hilda, and set the Barghest upon them.

Bastel slammed a fist into his open palm. “Hurn’s spell worked. And here you are. Oh, I am going to enjoy tearing you apart.”

***

Johanna sat at her desk in her apartment’s living area, drawing. She’d already prepared dinner. A pie sat in the warm oven, ready to go. She shouldn’t be worried. Tontu had yet to poke his head out of Nowhere Space, despite the smell of the pie wafting through the house. Hilda wasn’t late.

But her daughter meant to see Erik Ahlberg this afternoon. And, though Johanna had given the man permission, after laying down some well thought out terms and conditions, and letting him know this was against her better judgment, but she’d allow it so long as he behaved, it still felt uncomfortable. I mean, she’d been lost with Hilda too. Underground! It hadn’t made Hilda want to hang out with her mother, which seemed rather unfair.

The sound of footsteps running up the stairs reached Johanna’s ears, and then the front door slammed open. Hilda’s satchel thumped as she dropped it into a corner. Twig let out a startled yelp.

The slight knot in Johanna’s stomach worked itself loose. Good. Not too late home. Not too early either. She put on a smile and swiveled around to face her daughter. “Ready for dinner, Hilda? How was your time with Mr Ahlberg—“

Hilda rushed across the living area, bolted into her bedroom and slammed her door, far louder than the front one.

Twig turned to Johanna and tilted his head with a quizzical whine. What was that all about?

“Erik Ahlberg.” Johanna's fists tightened, and her pencil let out a faint crack of protest.

He’d been on his absolute best behavior at first. But, recently, Ahlberg had been late, distracted, and had left early. Hilda had made light of it, but she had told her mother about it. And now? He’d definitely upset her. Johanna shouldn’t have been surprised. But she would still make him regret it.

Johanna drew in a breath, steadied herself, then knocked softly on Hilda’s door. “Hilda? Do you want to talk?”

***

Chapter 2

[hyperpsychomaniac]

So. I’m toying with the idea of a werewolf type fic. Only Erik gets turned into a black hound/ barghest.

[hyperpsychomaniac]

The Curse of the Black Hound - Chapter 2

Summary: Sequel to 'Lost in the Wilderness'. Erik Ahlberg has a problem. And he’ll solve it like a man - by himself, and dragging no one he cares for needlessly into the whole confounded mess. Gerda is having none of it. She’s determined to figure out why he’s being so secretive and protect him, whether he likes it or not. But when Erik finally asks for help, he finds himself alone, with those he’d always thought would stand by him, his biggest threat.

First Chapter

***

Gerda dashed out of the coffee shop, coffees in hand. Her radio buzzed and chirped, and she clamped it to her ear. “Ja, this is…” She cut herself off with a huff. She hadn’t pressed the transmit button, and, with two coffees, couldn’t until she put at least one down.

Gerda weaved her way deftly past the patrons on the sidewalk cafe - “Excuse me.” “Pardon me.” “Safety Patrol - coming through!” - and saw Hilda at one table, sitting by herself with a book. If she wasn't on duty, she would have said hello. And, if her deputy had not just reported a problem with a Troll right outside the city’s wall.

Gerda rolled herself into the open door of the Safety Patrol vehicle, deposited both coffees into the centre tray cup holders, and tore out of her parking space to the blare of a truck’s horn. Only then was she able to send a message. “Deputy Selby, what is your status?”

“Look, my Trollish isn’t that good,” Selby replied, now considerably calmer than when he had called in his earlier plea for backup. “But I think she may just be inviting me to share a sandwich.”

Gerda took her foot off the gas. There was no need to terrify the citizens of Trolberg with her ‘on serious business’ driving when the Troll wasn’t a threat. The number of false alarms had increased as the Trolls encroached closer, now they had been allowed back into the city. Gerda was certain most of the citizens looked on this favourably. Nevertheless, Trolls were very, very big. They did not speak the same language, and miscommunication was inevitable. It was why she had insisted Safety Patrol learn Trollish.

“Okay. If you’re not in any danger, I’m calling it a night.”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll sort this out - make sure she’s not going to come wondering on inside and ask anyone else if they want to share a meal - and head home myself.”

“Night, deputy.” Gerda pulled over at the side of the road and chugged down half a coffee. It seemed she wouldn’t need both. But one wouldn’t stop her sleeping. And, with the presence of the Troll outside a nonevent, it looked like she’d get home on time. She stuffed the empty paper cup back into the cupholder, promising herself she’d be sure to remove it when she left the vehicle, and put the car back into gear.

An almighty crash sounded from the wall. Birds alighted from the nearby trees, squawking in annoyance at being disturbed right before bedtime. Dust rose, catching in the fading light.

Gerda snatched up her radio handset. “Deputy, what happened? Did your friend not like you turning down her invitation?”

“That wasn’t my Troll, ma’am,” Selby replied. “She looks as startled as I am. It’s further down the wall.”

The radio crackled, and another voice broke in. “I can see him. A big old brute just ran smack bang into the wall.”

The old bell keeper. He was still working for Safety Patrol. When Gerda had spoken to him since her promotion, he’d said he was more than happy to stay on. She’d asked him, seeing as he’d been around so long, whether he had any ideas of how Safety Patrol might be improved. It had taken three attempts before he had given her a sensible answer, instead of just grumble. And then, Gerda could not take notes fast enough - the Bell Keeper had a lot to say on where Safety Patrol fell short and what needed to change.

She had never understood why Erik fired him back when they’d tried to implement the automated belling system. It made sense to keep someone on to monitor the system, especially someone who had been around so long. She’d told Erik so, but he had insisted a machine was more reliable.

Since Erik had retired, she’d asked him why again, one night at the pub when he’d seemed rather amicable. He’d gotten all huffy and changed the subject. She’d never asked again. Sometimes, it just wasn’t worth it to contend with Erik’s moods.

“And, he’s chasing…” The Bell Keeper sighed. “Erik Ahlberg.” Somehow, even over the airwaves,  his pronunciation of ‘Ahlberg’ dripped with utter scorn. “I guess he’s gone and got himself in a spot of bother.”

Gerda tensed. “What have you gone and done now, Erik?” Rescuing him after he and Hilda had got lost had been tolerable. After all, whilst Hilda had blamed him for crashing the Woff, Gerda could not quite be mad at him. He’d done his best to look out for Hilda, throwing himself in front of a Barghest and all. It had hurt him pretty badly, too.

“I can see him from the bell tower,” the Bell Keeper continued. “I would go down and help him, but…” Even with his disdain of the former captain, he wanted to help. But he was not outfitted to take on a Troll.

“Don’t worry,” said Gerda. “I’ve got an off-road vehicle. I am heading your way.” She turned on her siren and floored it.

Why did Erik keep heading out to the Wilderness? Surely it was only a few Trolls who felt they had a bone to pick with him - much like there were only a small percentage of Trolberg citizens who detested the idea of Trolls being allowed to set foot in ‘their’ city. But those few had made a hell of a lot of noise about it. And if those few Trolls were the same, they could cause trouble for more than just Erik. He should at least have had the sense to wait until the heat died down before venturing beyond the wall.

Gerda scowled. It wasn’t the first time since his run in with the Barghest she’d found him out there. She’d spotted him walking back in one morning, a little disheveled, but none the worse for wear. All he’d tell her was that he’d been out for a walk. Which may have been reasonable, if foolish - something that wasn’t beyond Erik.

But the strange thing was, as he tried to appear chipper and blathered on, Gerda had taken in what he was wearing. The jacket sort of fitted him, but it was stretched taut across his shoulders, and she doubted he’d be able to comfortably zip it up. Erik didn’t go overboard with what he wore, but he took pride in it. He would never slum around in ill-fitting clothes. Odd, and she should have questioned it. But all she’d done was offer him a lift back home, which he’d wearily accepted.

And here he was, outside the wall again. But this time, he’d ticked off a Troll. Gerda’s fists tightened on the steering wheel. No. She could not let this slide any longer. Friend or not.

But first, she had to once again rescue him.

***

Erik ran.

Behind him, Bastel let loose a thunderous roar. Trees whipped forward under the onslaught, then quivered violently as his footfalls shook them. Each boom came closer and closer together as Bastel picked up speed. “You’re mine!”

This would be the part where the hero said something witty. Erik just swore and forced his legs to churn faster. Back towards Trolberg. And safety. And more people for an angry, vengeful Troll to crush. Good lord, he couldn’t lead this thing inside the wall. Bastel didn’t seem the sort of chap who would be kind to those innocents.

“You turned our King to pieces. I’m going to rip you limb from limb! I’ll break your bones and snap your pitiful human joints!”

Erik winced at the mental image. Suddenly understanding Troll should’ve been useful. Better than everything else that had gone wrong since coming out of the hospital. But no. He just got more fodder for his nightmares.

“Come on,” Erik begged himself. “If this damned shoulder’s going to go all tingly on me…” But as he ran, his breath became more ragged and wheezy. His body stayed useless and frail, at least as far as standing up to a Troll was concerned.

“Oh, damn it all!” At the last second, Erik made a sharp left, and instead of going back inside, ran along the outside of the wall.

Behind him, the pound of Bastel’s footfalls lost their rhythm. “Son of a…” said Bastel, or the closest Troll equivalent, and slammed into the wall with a truly thunderous boom.

Erik put a hand over his head as pebbles rained down upon him. “Where the hell is Safety Patrol!? Damned, heel dragging…”

A bell tolled. Erik’s heart lifted a little. He even risked a look back over this shoulder. Mistake. Bastel hadn’t been downed by his run in with the city wall. And the bell tower that was ringing was behind him. If anything, the sound was driving him towards Erik, and Bastel seemed mad enough that he might contend with the annoyance if it meant he could get his hands on the human he deemed responsible for his King’s destruction.

Erik wondered, briefly, if the Monster King had been hunted. Which was a stupid thing to wonder when you were running for your life. Much like carrying a big, heavy book. Erik glanced at the heavy tome, still clutched under his arm. His eyes narrowed, and he skidded to a halt and spun around.

“Hey! I may not be Safety Patrol anymore! But I can still throw the book at you!”

It was glorious. The book sailed in a perfect arc and smacked Bastel across the face, and stuck there, open across his eyes. It brought the Troll to a bewildered halt as darkness enveloped him.

“Ha!” Erik punched the air. “That’ll teach you to mess with Erik Ahlberg!”

Bastel’s chubby fingers found the book and snatched it away. Then - much like Jerry Ferguson often had before Erik hit his growth spurt - ripped the book clean in two.

Erik’s jaw dropped. “That… that was a library book!” he spluttered. “I have to return it!” He could only handle one terror at a time. He was flat out dealing with Trolls who wanted him dead. He didn’t need to contend with librarians, too.

“You shouldn’t have killed our King!” Bastel flung the tattered remains aside and strode towards him.

Erik backed up. “We were at war! It was an accident. I mean, I meant to, but, but I didn’t…”

“You are a threat to Troll-kind,” Bastel snarled, towering over him. “A monster. And I’m happy to be the one to put you down.”

Erik threw up his hands and squeezed his eyes shut.

The wail of Safety Patrol sirens rent the air. A Safety Patrol vehicle tore up beside them, and Gerda tumbled out, light gun in hand. “Back off! I will not hesitate to use this.”

***

The big Troll roared. Only it wasn’t simply a roar. Before, Gerda may have thought it so. But his stony lips formed words, still snarls and growls, but laced with meaning. It took her a second to focus in - on understanding, not fighting this thing. She caught the word: “Vengeance.” Either that or, “Justice.” Gerda couldn’t differentiate between the two just yet. They were likely the same. “You. Protect. Him?” The last word carried a note of question, inflected upwards, just like humans did.

Gerda held the gun steady. “Ja, I protect him.”

“Gerda, help…” Erik stared up at the Troll, frozen to the spot.

“Get behind me. Now,” Gerda said curtly. She hadn’t intended to snap at him. Erik talked big, but as soon as danger showed up, he was about as useful as a cabbage. At least he did as he was told, jogging over behind her, and the gun.

The Troll watched her, breathing heavily, but he made no further move.

Gerda slowly lowered the gun to her side. “What’s your name?”

The Troll eyed the gun, then his eyes flicked back up to meet hers. “Bastel.”

“Well, Bastel,” Gerda said, imitating the name as best she could in English. “Right now, you may be outside Trolberg’s wall. But you’re still well within Safety Patrol’s jurisdiction. I can’t let you harm this man.”

“Gerda,” Erik said. “What are you doing? He wants to kill me!”

“Be quiet, Erik. I’ve got this under control.” Don’t make it worse. Gerda shut her mouth before being tempted to say that aloud.

“The mushroom is right,” Bastel growled. “I would kill him. But you’re in my way!”

“I cannot move. This is my job. And he is my friend.”

“He killed our King! Our laws demand justice/vengeance!”

“If you want your justice,” she said, giving him the benefit of the doubt. “You’ll do it outside my city.”

Bastel’s lip curved up, and he snorted. “Hmm. ‘Your city’?” And with that, he turned and faded into the night.

Gerda winced, regretting her phrasing. When had managing Safety Patrol become so hard? Maybe she couldn’t blame Erik for simplifying it so. Trolls a danger, mindless monsters; the city, the humans, to be protected. But it was more complicated than right or wrong, good and bad, humans, and everything else monsters.

“You understood him?” Erik asked.

“I’ve been learning Trollish. As have the rest of Safety Patrol.”

“You scared him too,” Erik sighed, and his shoulders drooped. “I… thanks, I guess.” He scratched at his bad shoulder. “It can’t be easy. Learning another language.”

Gerda huffed. Everyone seemed to forget she already had. “It isn’t any harder than English. At least the grammar makes more sense. Although, I don’t know why he called you a mushroom. Perhaps it’s a Troll insult or something.”

“Mushroom?” Erik harrumphed. “Gerda, he clearly said-” He paused, then squared his shoulders. “Monster.”

Gerda’s guts tightened as she looked up at Erik’s towering frame. No wonder this Troll wanted him dead. Bastel had snarled ‘monster’ with bitter anger and a faint hint of fear. Now that Erik had pointed out her error, it certainly made more sense than ‘mushroom’.

But how could he fear Erik? Even as he held himself now, trying to make himself look big, he wouldn’t look intimating to a Troll. He didn’t even look intimating to her. He was just silly old Erik. Trying too hard, like being called a monster no more upset him than if it had been mushroom.

But Erik had killed a Troll. Using Safety Patrol, and the city’s money, its tools. And its citizens’ fear and hatred, cooked up into a frenzy by his many words. He’d wielded those things as haphazardly as he’d handled the prototype light gun. And all that had made him dangerous.

But he had changed. Hadn’t he? He’d stopped before he destroyed Trolberg. But he was still the man who had killed a Troll, when Gerda had refused to do so for him. She still couldn’t comprehend how he could hate a creature enough to do that to it, as big and intimating as the Troll’s king was.

“What is wrong with you? How did you get to the place? How did you convince yourself? How?” Words she wanted to scream at him, digging her fingers into his big arms so he couldn’t escape her. But she wouldn’t. It’d be rude. It’d spoil their friendship. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

“Will you stop looking at me like that? You know, you have a habit of zoning out and it’s really a little unsettling sometimes.”

Gerda blinked. “I…” And as she pulled her mind back to the moment, she frowned. “Wait a minute, how do you understand what the Troll said?”

“Er…” Erik flushed. “I, er, um, Hilda! Yes, Hilda taught me a few words of Trollish. I did figure… well,” he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I suppose I wanted to know how to say ‘sorry’ to them. And, er, it’d be good to understand their response. You know, the difference between ‘I forgive you’ and ‘I’m going to rip your arms off’.”

“Oh, right.” The knot in Gerda’s stomach undid itself. Erik had changed. She reached out and squeezed his arm. “Hey, I am glad you’re trying to understand them better. But it’s dangerous for you out here. The same as the last time I found you out here. Why are you here, anyway?”

Erik wouldn’t look at her. He looked instead towards the moon peeking up on the horizon, round and full, glowing brightly even in the dim light of dusk. Then down at his hands. “I… well, nothing I guess.”

“Erik, that Troll wanted you dead! Nothing isn’t good enough.”

Erik stooped and came up with the tattered book cover in his hand. “I was reading this. Guess I got distracted.” He flicked through the remaining pages and sighed heavily. “I suppose I’d better return it. Pretty sure my borrowing privileges are going to be revoked.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation. “Do you want a ride home?”

“Your shift is up. You should get home too, and…”

“Erik, part of my job is seeing you home safe. Especially as I don’t trust you’ll get there on your own.”

“So not asking, huh?”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt. Anymore than you have been already.”

Erik sighed and looked away, thrusting his hands deep in his pockets. “Gerda…”

 Erik had always been so forthright and in your face. He’d had a spark, which had initially drawn Gerda to the new Captain who wasn’t afraid to set Safety Patrol on a new, better course. She wasn’t sure if it was because they were closer now, or something was going on that had him down in the dumps. Something he wouldn’t share with her. But now, sometimes, he would let his guard down. And when he did, he looked lost, and a little sad.

“I’m perfectly fine. And a grown man. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Oh. How she wished.

The drive back to Erik’s place was quiet. Erik leaned an elbow on the window, looking out at Trolberg’s lights. The only time he’d been completely silent on any of the many times he’d been in a Safety Patrol vehicle with her was when he’d dozed off. What was wrong with him?

Gerda was struck with the sudden urge to grasp his hand, ask him what was going on. Another small part still wanted to shake him, because that might be the level of physical contact required to rattle loose an answer.

“Thanks for the lift,” he said, unclipping his seatbelt.

“Erik,” Gerda said, bringing his attention back to her. No physical contact needed. “Will you please tell me why you were out there?”

Erik looked away. “It’s private.”

She would not push. Even if the curt reply hurt a little. “Okay, but whatever the reason, you need to be careful wandering out into the Wilderness, especially after dark.”

“Gerda,” he said, a growl creeping into his voice. “I said I’m fine. I can look after myself.”

Gerda seriously doubted that. But it was not her only concern. “You’re not only putting yourself in danger. If I, or Safety Patrol, have to come after you. I don’t want you putting my people in danger, too. Your actions have consequences.”

Erik let out a short laugh. “Oh believe me, you do not need to lecture me on consequences.”

“Good. Then I won’t. Look, if you’re in danger, or get yourself in trouble, I will always be there for you. But, if you’re deliberately going out there for no reason and I or anyone from Safety Patrol have to put themselves in danger or waste resources, for something that you should know to avoid…”

Erik’s frown was deepening, but Gerda plowed ahead.

“I will fine or arrest you if I have to.”

Erik snorted and made for the door handle. Gerda didn’t think it was fair to actually lock him in, despite how serious she was about this. She unlatched the vehicle from her side, so he could get out. “You know Safety Patrol has the right to—”

“Yes, I know!”

“Erik…”

“Message received, all right? Good night, deputy.” Erik headed up the garden path towards his cottage, grumbling and fumbling in his pockets for keys.

Gerda waited at the kerbside until he’d unlatched his front door and pulled it in behind him. He couldn’t stop her from doing that. But, if all she could do was make sure he got through his front door safely, well, it just didn’t feel good enough. Something else was going on, but Gerda was stumped what she could do if Erik wouldn’t open up and let her help.

***

Chapter 3