Mac and the Little People Ch. 14

Rose and Gniff picked their way along the overgrown trail toward the small, bushy hill. The air grew colder and windy as they walked. Maples showed the silver-green undersides of their leaves in the gusts. When the two heard a distant metallic rattle they turned back toward the house. Rain drummed on the metal roof of the woodshed to announce its advance through the refuge. Gniff put her hand around Rose's thigh and snuggled against her.

"It's going to be cold," said Gniff.

"I'll keep you warm, sweetness," said Rose. She wrapped her shawl around Gniff's shoulders. The gnome responded by kissing the highest place she could reach on Rose, which happened to be her hip. The two quickened their pace, but minutes later the raindrops were falling around them. Gniff found shelter under the lowest limbs of a pine tree, but Rose preferred to stand out in the downpour. She turned her face up and let the rain wash her. Each drop felt like freedom after twenty years trapped inside the roots of her rosebush in a pot.

"I wish I was as strong as you are," said Gniff.

"Have you forgotten our dalliances of the past?" said Rose.

"I haven't forgotten. It's just been so long that I don't know if I could do that again," said the gnome.

Rose reached out to her. "Come out. It's not so bad."

---

Gniff looked into Rose's bright blue eyes. They were just as bright as they were the last time they shared a downpour twenty years earlier. The seductive magic that swirled around Rose was focused on her. The intensity of it after twenty years of loneliness felt like a warm current drawing her in.

Gniff came out from under the tree and walked slowly toward Rose. Then she stopped. The cold rain didn't chill her into a coma. The raindrops were still cold, but in a different way than they usually were. Each one was a tiny sensual surprise. Gniff untied her ragged corset and threw it aside. The cold fingers of the rain drummed over her breasts. Rose's shawl clung to her shoulders. She took it off and let the rain wash her shoulders. Gniff's nipples hardened like dark pebbles. The food stains on her chest liquefied and ran in thin streaks of barbecue sauce and mustard down her belly. Gniff untied her skirt and let it fall from around her broad hips and big ass.

"I know I have let myself go," said Gniff, suddenly remembering that she was noticeably fatter than the last time the two met.

"Time hasn't been the kindest to either of us," said Rose.

Gniff embraced Rose. The soft skin of her thighs felt good on Gniff's cheeks. She kissed Rose's crotch. Her sparse patch of silver pubic hair tickled Gniffs lips. Gniff held Rose's butt still and inhaled the rainwater-muted scent of her cunt.

Gniff felt Rose's fingers in her hair. The nymph was working her magic. She felt the loneliness of the past twenty years slowly rise to the surface of her mind. All the days spent barely holding it together and all the nights spent alone came rushing into her awareness. Gniff hiccuped and tried to hold back tears. Rose held her still and knelt so she could look into the gnome's eyes.

"Don't hold back. I'm not her. You don't have to put on a face for me."

"I'll be fine," said Gniff.

"You will be, but you have to heal first," said Rose.

"I don't want Sigra to see. I don't want to let her know she can get to me."

"She won't dare look. Even if she calls you while in flagrante with Mac, she won't have a word against you."

"I wish I was as carefree with my reputation as you are, but I'm not as pretty. I don't have the power you do to make men want me. Since Seamus died I'm just a human's leftovers. I'm supposed to be getting over him, and you."

"You aren't leftovers. You're the closest to a wife that he had."

"Had. I was so lonely for so long."

"Let the tears flow," said Rose. Gniff held Rose tight against her soft breasts and gave up trying to hold back. She put her face into Rose's neck and sobbed uncontrollably.

---

Fifi didn't know how the voices knew her, but they did. They whispered in their high-pitched voices about her, as if she were the subject of their conversation rather than a participant.

"She's fat."

"And short."

"And a voyeur. Who does that?"

"Creepers, that's who."

"She's filthy."

"The elf would make a better match for the human."

"Or the nymph."

"Or even the diamond."

"Go away!" Fifi commanded them, but her voice never left her mouth. Instead, it was absorbed by the big black...thing. Or lack of thing. It was as if a giant nothing had wedged itself between her mind and everything else. The individual nothings responded with shrill mocking laughter. Then they changed to mocking parodies of Fifi's own voice, exaggerating her slight drawl into a drawn-out whine.

"Ooh, look at me, all sticky with human cum, hope it makes up for the fact that no men of my own kind want me."

"Ha, it won't."

Then there was a break in the isolation. Fifi could hear Mac and Tia.

"You really love her," said Tia.

"Yes. Even though she is a mess and I have been in one jam after another since I met her, she is somehow easy to love. And now she's messed up because of me." said Mac.

Then something shifted among the multitude of nothing voices and the rest of the conversation was cut off. She could still hear the voices away in the distance talking about her, but without the same confidence as before. In a moment they returned.

"You should see what he's doing with the elf," said a voice close to Fifi's ear.

"She's so much prettier than you, and a better kisser. You just slobber on him," said one in her other ear.

Then the two laughed in her ears. Fifi tried her best to not let it get to her. She knew she didn't have much of a chance to keep Mac for herself, but she still hated them rubbing it in. Having to share with somebody she could never compete against was worse. Tia was pretty, thin, tall, with perfect hair, while Fifi was chubby with hairy ears and claws like an animal.

"That elderly nymph is a better lay. I bet the human will be so busy with her and the elf that you end up sleeping alone."

Suddenly the noise of the background voices decreased to a whisper.

---

Gniff's nose ran as she held onto Rose. Her tears and snot mixed with the rain and ran between their bodies. She began to feel better bit by bit as her sadness was pulled from deep inside her. A lump began to form in her throat.

---

Rose held Gniff and gently pulled at the gnome's spirit. Her trauma was tied up around everything in a tangled mess. Rose untied what she could without damaging her lover more. As she worked each tentacle of pain free from the surrounding spirit she could feel comfort flow through herself and into the pain's former place. It still hurt Gniff. She had been suppressing her pain for so long that it was hard to find the seam where gnome ended and pain began. Rose worked until the fat boulder in her arms showed signs of fatigue, then she concluded by wrapping the separated pain up into a tight ball and letting it harden.

She turned Gniffs head to the side and let her vomit a marble-sized black gem into the grass. Gniff clung to her for support. Rose held Gniff but kept an eye on the little black gem. Soon Fizzy would come to collect it. But Rose wasn't sure she wanted Fizzy to have it. Gniff had suffered enough without Fizzy mocking her like a pain connoisseur.

Rose knelt and picked up the rain-washed gem. She hated the next part, but she was willing to go through it for Gniff. Rose squeezed the gem in her fist. The faceted edges cut into her palm as if to resist its fate. Then the gem imploded with a pop and Gniff's pain passed through Rose's mind in an excruciating instant, then vanished. Rose steadied herself and waited a moment. Soon she felt the tingle of magic flowing into her, but stronger than the times she had entrusted the pain gems to Fizzy. She looked at her hand and could almost see the wrinkles disappearing from her bony fingers. A stray lock of her hair shone silver. In front of her, Gniff looked like a weight had been thrown off her. The gnome's eyes didn't look as defeated as earlier.

"You look better", said Rose.

"And you look younger", said Gniff

They were interrupted by a pained scream from the direction of the hill.

"It's Mac," said Rose. She let go and ran toward the hill. Gniff snatched up her soaked clothes and ran after Rose. Rose felt the distant scream more than she heard it. The pain hit her like a wave, and the trough behind it pulled at her spirit. She turned toward Seamus' grave.

"Seamus? Mac?" Rose meant to shout, but it came out as a whisper. She knew it was Mac, but the last time she felt pain like that it led her to Seamus, a long time ago. The two were so similar but at the same time so different. She felt Gniff squeeze her hand.

"We need to help him," said Gniff.

The two hurried along the trail. Rose outpaced Gniff easily but was confident that the little Gnome would catch up. She felt Gniff's desire and hope even at a distance.

---

Cuttystool lost her balance and staggered as the macrame cloak sapped her strength. Dunmarfor pulled her out the back door and down the weathered steps to the dirt. They stood in uncomfortable silence for a time. Dunmarfor seemed to be calculating something.

"I guess you regret getting involved with that leprechaun," said Dunmarfor.

"An thoo guess wrong, as usual," retorted Cuttystool.

"Then you are a fool. He was chased out like vermin. I remain."

"An thoo remain a bootlicking tood," said Cuttystool.

"I'll overlook that remark, given how ridiculous it is. If you begin to behave I may ask a boon of the queen to be spent on you."

Cuttystool was silent. She could feel the macrame losing its strength as Dunmarfor expended his magical energy to keep her trapped, but she could feel the influence of the queen grow in her mind. A separate presence in her wooden head was amused, but growing bored by the second.

"You could be returned to flesh," continued Dumnarfor. Cuttystool tried to suppress hope. This was just some game to get a rise out of her. "But there would be certain favors you would have to provide for me," said Dunmarfor.

"Noot buyin' it," said Cuttystool dismissively.

"Consider it. Its a fair deal. You don't have to be wooden, and you also get to experience a cock again. How many years since you got laid?"

Cuttystool thought there was no way the elf actually wanted her. None of the males in service of the queen had any desire for sex or even sexual release. This was just another manipulation tactic. She doubted the elf could get an erection. "Doona want noone o thoos floopy shrivel-dick!" shouted Cuttystool, and she immediately regretted it. The queen took advantage of her lapse in self-control and took over. The macrame cloak fell off as the queen overpowered Dunmarfor, and Cuttystool slapped him hard across the mouth. He raised a hand to defend himself, but Cuttystool knocked it away with a second slap. She felt a crack as her wooden hand broke one of Dunmarfor's forearm bones.

"You knoow noot to raise hand against me," said Cuttystool coldly. Dunmarfor dropped to his knees and cradled his injured forearm.

"Yes, mistress," he answered. Blood dripped down his chin from a cut on his lip.

"Present it," said Cuttystool. Dunmarfor meekly raised his forearm, with a noticeable bend where there should not be one. Cuttystool gripped the fracture in a strong wooden fist. Dunmarfor winced but seemed to know not to pull back. She concentrated on returning the bone fragments to their normal position. Dunmarfor screamed as the bones were violently jerked into position and fused back together.

"Thank you, my queen," said Dunmarfor. Cuttystool had nothing but contempt for the pitiful elf toadying before her, a feeling she shared with the queen's presence inside her mind.

"Make thooself usefool. I know that thoose twoo are oonder, but canna say hoow," said Cuttystool.

Dunmarfor arose and moved to obey.

---

Tia pulled the leather apron off Fifi as the last black mote swarmed on it. The gremlin stirred but remained tucked in a ball. As the leather cooled in the shade of the crawl space the black dot fizzled and died. Tia sat down and shifted Fifi so her head was in her lap. She began absentmindedly running her fingers through the gremlin's hair to gently work out the tangles. After a few minutes, she noticed that Fifi was fully awake.

"Are we friends?" asked Fifi.

"What do you mean?" returned Tia.

"You and Mac are friends. Me and Mac are friends. Are we friends?"

"I guess so. We have helped each other," said Tia.

"Just don't be mad if I don't want to share him. It's nothing against you, but he belongs to me."

"How does he belong to you? I remember the diamond woman saying you haven't taken him," said Tia.

Fifi sat up. "I'll think of something. Don't rush me. But even if he isn't mine-mine I'm first in line for him because I met him first," she said.

"Actually, I did," said Tia. She meant to say it without being smug but didn't quite make it.

"No way! I have known Mac for a long time and never saw you," said Fifi.

"He was little then, but we spent a whole summer together a long time ago. Maybe nineteen years, maybe twenty-one.

---

Fifi's jealousy and disappointment grew in a hot hollow inside her. Tia had an entire summer with Mac all to herself. She began to imagine Mac and Tia close, with her lithe arms and legs wrapped around him and the orange glow of his sweat glowing on her skin. She couldn't compete, but she had to. Fifi tried to remember that far back. She had been a toddler, biting the ends off crayons and sticking them back into the human's crayon box. "But mine," she choked.

Tia looked concerned. "Why does he have to be only yours?"

"Because...need...a maker," said Fifi around the lump in her throat.

"Why?" asked Tia, genuinely curious.

Fifi almost told Tia about sleeping in a warm orange glow every night, getting filled up with the power to make anything, and making lots of strong, smart baby gremlins with maker magic. Instead, she said, "Just because mine".

"Goo check far oopenings at the foondation vents. If one oopens, enter and drag oot the foogitives," ordered Cuttystool. Fifi and Tia heard her muffled but clear enough through the bricks.

"What's going on?" Fifi asked Tia in a whisper.

"It's Dunmarfor. If he catches us he will kill us," said Tia.

Tia looked dismayed, but Fifi thought fast. She briefly examined the closest vent to them, the one that opened behind the rosebush. It was equipped with a metal bracket that could be used from the outside to open and close the vent. She looked around the dark crawlspace and noted rectangular outlines of dim light that gave away the locations of the vents. She heard some cursing and stomping from the other side of the back steps. The overgrown state of the yard meant that whoever was opening vents had to search for them, then fight the thick grass to reach them. She dashed over to the vent and snapped off the bracket with a quick jerk. Then she closed the vent as quietly as she was able to and wedged the broken bracket into the sheet metal frame, jamming the vent door closed. Then she scurried to the next vent and repeated the process. Cursing and banging from the other side of the first vent let her know that Dunmarfor had fought his way through the overgrown weeds and was trying to kick the vent open.

"This one is stuck," she heard him report to Cuttystool.

"cheap garbage! Try oot the next one," she replied.

Fifi worked fast and had all the vents secured before Dunmarfor found the second one. But when she saw the state of the crawlspace door she lost hope. It was nearly rotted away to nothing. It seemed the only thing preventing the plywood from crumbling to sawdust was habit and multiple coats of exterior paint on the outside. It probably still looked solid from the outside, but if somebody leaned against the door it would give way.

"They canna all be stook!" shouted Cuttystool from outside.

Fifi returned to Tia and started to speak, but the elf seemed to be in a trance. Her eyes glowed silvery white but didn't seem to be looking at anything.

---

Sigra sat concealed in the mostly buried quartz boulder that served as her outpost. It was the last stone that was both close enough to the house and large enough to hide a gnome inside. Though it was technically in the territory of the rabbits and field people, she used it to spy on the house. Over the years a dogwood tree had grown beside the stone and concealed it with green foliage in the growing seasons and dead leaves in the winter. Sigra sat frustrated. She had seen the elf and the goblin-like creature emerge from the back door of the house, then the green dogwood foliage stirred in a near-nonexistent breeze and obscured her view. When the foliage stilled she could no longer see them. She prepared to leave her boulder and look for them when she noticed movement. The elf Dunmarfor seemed to melt out of the grass and enter the back door.

---

Rose didn't have any trouble finding Mac. She could almost feel the ragged edges of his spirit through the rain. As she climbed the hill to the cairn she could hear him vomiting over the rain drumming on the leaves above.

She found him on his hands and knees in a mess of wilted smilax vines. By the look and feel of it, Fizzy had been there first. She put a hand on his shoulder and he shrank from it.

"Don't be scared," Rose said.

"Don't look at me like this," said Mac. Rose looked, and saw the blood smeared in the crushed daffodil foliage. He turned away.

"What did she do to you?" she asked and regretted it instantly. It made the details of what he suffered stand out in his mind. The despair was like gravity pulling at her spirit. Rose didn't need to know any details to know it was bad. "At least let me stop the bleeding," said Rose. Mac turned to face her. His torso was covered in inflamed scratches. Some oozed half-clotted blood. Rose reached toward his wounds, but Mac pushed her away. He seemed more wounded animal than human. "Let me help," she said as gently as she was able. Mac put his hands down.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Shut your eyes," said Rose. Mac did. Rose held her palms close to Mac's chest. She could feel his chest hair on her palms. She knew if he let her touch him she could heal him more, but this would have to do. She concentrated on disinfecting and healing the scratches. After a moment she withdrew. There were two hand-shaped patches of healthy flesh on Mac's chest. "Look. I didn't hurt you," she said. Mac looked down, then at her. His expression softened.

"Why do you care about me so much?" he asked.

"I don't quite understand the question," answered Rose.

"You didn't have to walk all the way out here for me."

Rose held his forearm in both her little hands. "I did have to. I needed to. and I still need to," she said.

"For what?"

"For both of us. To satisfy both our needs," said Rose. She wanted to fix the mess Fizzy made earlier but Mac had to let her in first. She couldn't do anything as long as his spirit was acting like a wounded animal. She struggled to keep her sex appeal under control.

"I can't," said Mac.

"Right now, maybe. But after I close up your wounds you might have a different outlook," said Rose.

"Okay. Do your thing," said Mac. Rose let go of his arm and put her hands on his chest. With full contact, she could heal him properly. His scratches shone faintly pink, then closed themselves.

"Now to fix the real problem," said Rose. She moved closer and pressed her body against Mac.

"No more," said Mac. He pushed her away. She looked up into his face and saw even more hurt there. He tried to conceal it behind a stoic expression, but it didn't work. Mac looked too much like Seamus to conceal his emotions, and his wounded spirit was obvious to her nymph senses.