Land of a Thousand Dances

 

 

 

The tattooist frowned sceptically at the design. He looked across the counter at his customer in her demure grey suit and wire-framed glasses.

“Are you sure you don’t want something a bit less . . . cutesy?”

“I’m sure,” she replied.

He shrugged dismissively. “It’s your skin. That’ll be three hundred.”

“Fine.” The diamond bracelet on her wrist caught the light as she passed over three crisp hundred-dollar notes. He took them, thinking that he’d never cease to be amazed by the things people did for love.

 

 

Three months earlier . . .

 

Robbie wasn’t going home tonight. She had a plan. If she just stayed out long enough, Adam would fall asleep on the couch and she wouldn’t have to face him. At least, not until the morning, when she would be tired, hung over, and not looking her best. Okay, so it wasn’t a very good plan, but she was all out of ideas.

She sat at the bar half-heartedly working on a Sudoku puzzle. As she began to write in one of the numbers, the tip snapped off her pencil. It had been that sort of day. She sighed and drained the last gulp of her beer. Then she looked up, trying to catch the barman’s eye to order another. He was at the other side of the bar, trying to chat up some little blonde thing in giant sunglasses.

Speaking of little blonde things, there was somebody new at the bar a couple of seats away from Robbie. The girl’s left eye was ringed with dark eyeliner and peered out from beneath a shock of white-blonde hair. Presumably, her right eye was the same icy blue, but it was hidden completely by her bangs. She looked young—late teens maybe, or early twenties. It was often hard to tell with young women.

Robbie remembered being sixteen and making herself up to look twenty so she could sneak past bouncers. That was back when she was young enough to consider looking older than she was a good thing. These days, the promises of white-coated women on infomercials to make her look ten years younger were starting to look tempting.

Robbie peered over her reading glasses and smiled at the girl. The girl scowled back. She was so tiny that her heavy black combat boots dangled more than a foot from the ground. She wore zigzag patterned tights and a belted black coat, out the back of which something dark was hanging. A garter belt maybe? Or some other part of her underwear come adrift?

“Excuse me,” Robbie ventured. “Your . . . um . . . underwear is showing.” She gestured towards whatever it was.

“Fuck!” the girl exclaimed and darted towards the ladies’ room.

Robbie considered a new plan of action. She managed to catch the barman’s eye.

“Two more Coopers, thanks.”

He took the money, went to pour the drinks, then got sidetracked by Giant Sunglasses Girl again.

After a minute or so, the little blonde reappeared.

“Thanks for that, though I’d like to know what you were doing staring at my arse.” She glared fiercely at Robbie. She had a foreign accent, something European.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Robbie chuckled.

“Well, anyway, thank you!” she said angrily. Then she put on a solemn, deliberate expression, and recited, “Here, this is a token of my gratitude for the service you have done me.”

She took something out of her purse and thrust it towards Robbie, who took it instinctively. It was a ring of plastic, the kind that comes on the top of a milk bottle. Robbie started to laugh, but the girl fixed her with such an intense stare that the laughter died on her lips.

“Thank you,” said Robbie, a little bewildered, and slipped the plastic ring into her pocket.

“You’re welcome,” said the girl. “Now I think I’ll leave before tonight gets any worse.”

“No, stay a minute,” Robbie protested. “I’ve ordered us some beers. Hey!” She signalled once more to the barman, who finally came over.

He set the two glasses down on the counter, and looked sceptically at the girl before turning to Robbie. “If that’s for her, I’ll need to see some ID.”

“I haven’t got any, but I’m way over eighteen,” the girl protested.

“Sorry, no card, no beer.”

Robbie couldn’t blame the barman. She wasn’t sure she believed it either.

“Dammit. Nobody bothers with this shit in Norway,” the blonde grumbled as the barman took one of the glasses away.

“Are you a student, then?” Robbie asked. She knew there were a lot of Norwegian students staying at the International College nearby.

“What’s it to you?” the girl snapped.

“I just wondered. Chill. My place is close by. Since you can’t get a drink here, maybe you’d like to come and have one there? Or just a chat. I can see you’ve had a crappy day. I know the feeling. We could commiserate over a coffee. Or the hard stuff. Whatever you want.”

The girl looked suspicious for a moment, then relented. “Okay. My name is Finna. What’s yours?”

“Roberta. Robbie.”

Finna held out a pale hand. “Okay, Robbie, let’s go.”

They stepped out into the street.

“So, Finna, how old are you really?” Robbie asked as they walked.

“A hundred and six. What about you?”

“Well, I feel a hundred and six some nights, especially after work, but I’m actually thirty-two.”

“You don’t look it.”

Robbie wondered whether this was true. Since her thirtieth birthday, she had become acutely conscious of the few fine lines that had begun to develop at the corners of her eyes.

“Kind of you to say so. You don’t look a hundred and six.”

“Good genes. On my mother’s side.”

“But you really are over eighteen?”

Finna laughed. “Yes! I’ve just lost my driver’s licence. It was a crappy day, like you said.” She fumbled around in her purse. “Here, but don’t laugh at the picture.”

She handed Robbie a student ID card. Beneath the university logo was a photograph of a slightly younger looking Finna with her blonde hair in braids framing her face.

“I can’t buy drinks with the damn thing, even though it says I’m twenty-two.”

Robbie shrugged and passed the card back. “Well that’s good to know. I wouldn’t want to be giving alcohol to a minor.”

“Big on following the rules, huh? What are you, a policewoman?” She looked Robbie up and down, taking in the dark cotton blouse, grey trousers, and no-nonsense black leather shoes. “No, I bet you’re a teacher.”

“Close. I’m a librarian.”

They were turning onto Robbie’s street.

“Ha! You have that ‘cross me and I’ll fine your sorry arse’ look.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment. This is my building. Now, I should warn you, my flatmate’s a bit . . . well . . . indiscreet. You’ll see what I mean.”

“Sounds interesting.”

They headed inside.

Just as Robbie had expected, Adam was waiting up for her. He muted the television when he heard them come in.

“Where have you been?” he asked, turning around on the couch. He hadn’t shaved.

“At the pub.” Robbie resisted the urge to add, Not that it’s any of your business. She didn’t want another fight. “Adam, this is Finna.”

She ushered the younger woman into the flat.

“Oh, hello there!” Adam jumped to his feet, took Finna’s hand, and kissed it. She appeared nonplussed.

“And this is my flatmate, Adam,” Robbie continued.

“Lovely to meet you, Finna. I was just saying last night what a shame it is that Robbie never brings girlfriends home.”

Robbie shot him a pleading look.

“Well, I suppose I’d better leave you two girls alone.” Adam winked at Finna, then left the room.

“What was that all about?” asked Finna after he’d gone.

“It’s kind of a long story.” Robbie sighed. “How about that drink?”

Robbie poured some drinks while Finna selected a CD to put on. After a few minutes fossicking through Robbie’s collection with many derisive comments, she chose Patti Smith’s Horses.

“Did you ever really listen to the lyrics of this?” asked Robbie as she popped the disc into the player. “The woman has some issues with parking meters.”

Finna laughed. “I don’t think you’re supposed to think about the words too much. It’s more about how it feels. Powerful and sexy.”

“You’re probably right. At any rate, it’ll keep Big Ears from listening to us talk.” Robbie settled on the couch next to Finna as the speakers belted out “Gloria.”

“Is it that bad? Geez. I couldn’t stand not having my privacy.” Finna made herself comfortable, putting her feet up on the coffee table.

“He’s a good guy, really,” Robbie protested. “We used to get on well, but it’s been tense lately. Things finally came to a head last night. It seems he has a crush on me.”

“But you’re not interested?”

“I’m not into guys at all.” Robbie studied Finna’s face carefully as she said this, but the younger woman didn’t seem surprised.

“Fair enough.”

“I told Adam that, but . . .”

“Let me guess—he thinks all lesbians are just waiting for the right man to come along?”

“No, it’s more that he just doesn’t believe me. He thinks I’m hiding my true feelings for him.”

“Uh-huh. Because he’s so irresistible.”

“I think he’s just not used to women being nice to him. I get the impression he’s had some bad experiences in the past, and now when I’m just being friendly, he thinks that means I want him. It doesn’t help that I haven’t brought any women back here since he moved in. You know how some guys need everything spelled out for them . . .” Robbie darted Finna another wary glance.

“Oh. Now I see where this is going. I’m a beard. Or should that be a merkin?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t even know you and here I’m already using you.”

“It’s no biggie. I got to enjoy your company, and this very fine scotch.” She rattled the ice in her glass.

“That’s Adam’s, actually.”

“So much the better. As far as I’m concerned, this is a good end to a bad day, so I’m happy to help you out. Want me to give him my When Harry Met Sally Meg Ryan impression?”

“I don’t think so. You just got here, and besides, this is only our first date. I wouldn’t want him thinking I’m easy.”

“You mean you’re not? Damn.” Finna pouted. “I guess I’ll have to chat you up some more then. Firstly though, I’ve got to ask, you’re obviously a sexy, intelligent woman, why don’t you just bring home a real date?”

Robbie felt herself blush. “I haven’t had one in a while. Work’s been pretty busy, I’m studying part time, and I just haven’t really made time to get out—no pun intended. I just never seem to meet women.”

“Well, now you’ve met me.” Finna’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Cheer up. Maybe we can make this a good end to a bad day for you too. What do librarians do for fun?”

“Well, I tend to spend a lot of quiet nights in. I read a lot, as you can probably tell.” She gestured towards the crowded shelves that lined two walls of the room.

“I’m not a big reader myself. Not English books, anyway. What else?”

“I listen to music, most of which you apparently hate.”

“Sorry,” said Finna a bit sheepishly. “I’m a bit of a fundamentalist when it comes to music.”

“Oh, and I watch DVDs,” Robbie continued.

“Documentaries, pretentious French films, that sort of thing?”

“Um . . . no. Mostly bad horror flicks. They’re kind of a guilty pleasure.”

Finna clapped her hands with delight. “All right! Let’s have a movie night! Got any popcorn?”

They were midway through An American Werewolf in Paris when Adam emerged from his bedroom and headed over to the kitchen.

“Don’t mind me girls, I’m having trouble sleeping. Just going to make myself some chamomile tea.”

Onscreen, the hero’s werewolf transformation was complete and he leapt on his hapless date.

Finna squealed loudly and grabbed at Robbie’s arm. Robbie put an arm around her.

“You girls want anything?” asked Adam.

“No thanks, we’re fine,” said Robbie as Finna snuggled close to her, shaking with silent laughter.

Adam put the kettle on and stood around awkwardly, pretending to watch the movie.

As Finna’s giggles subsided, she whispered in Robbie’s ear, “We may as well give him something to gawk at.”

“Okay,” Robbie whispered back.

She leaned in close to Finna and closed her eyes. As soon as their lips met, Finna’s tongue slipped past them and began exploring her mouth. The kiss was urgent and insistent, and Robbie felt the hard lump of a tongue stud.

Interesting, she thought.

They separated, and Finna looked challengingly at Adam, who quickly looked away.

Eventually, Adam went back to his room.

“Did you like my girly scream?” asked Finna with a wicked little smile.

“It was very authentic,” Robbie replied. “Like the kiss.”

She wondered where this was going. Did Finna really like girls, or was she just playing along for fun? Robbie realised that was just one item on a long list of things she didn’t know about this little punk chick. Still, it might be fun to find out more about her.

“It’s getting kind of late. You can stay over if you like. Just, you know, for the look of the thing.”

“Okay. This couch is pretty comfy. Though, really, for the look of the thing—”

“You should sleep in my room,” Robbie finished for her, surprising herself. “Sure. I can kip on the floor.”

“Or not. How big’s your bed?”

“Queen-size.”

“Well that’s plenty of room for two. I should warn you, though, I tend to hog the covers.”

When Robbie returned from the bathroom, having changed into her nightgown, she felt a mixture of relief and disappointment to see Finna sitting up in bed still wearing her coat. She had removed her boots and hung her bra, tights, and belt over a chair, but there was no sign of the mysterious item of clothing Robbie had seen earlier in the night. Maybe she had stashed it in her purse.

Ah well, a little mystery is one of the pleasures of a new relationship, Robbie mused. Swift on the heels of this thought came another. Hang on! Relationship? She was just planning to fool Adam, not herself. But if it did lead somewhere, wouldn’t that be a bonus?

She climbed into bed and plumped her pillow.

“Well . . . nighty night then,” she said as Finna settled in under the sheet.

“Goodnight.”

Robbie switched off the lamp. For a while, she lay there in the darkness, thinking how nice it was to hear another person breathing beside her again.

I could get used to this, she thought as she slowly drifted off into a contented sleep.

 

 

Sometime later, Finna eased the bedroom door closed and crept out into the hall. The tiles were icy under her bare feet.

“Looking for something?” asked a voice, making her start.

She turned to see a silhouette against the window.

“The bathroom,” she said.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw that it was Adam. He was naked to the waist and his well-muscled chest was covered with thick, dark hair. Around his navel, it almost met with the trail of dark curls emerging from the waistband of his boxer shorts.

“Just down the hall, past my room.” He indicated the passage behind him with his head, but did not step out of the way. “Unless it’s my room you were really looking for.”

“No, thank you. Robbie’s is lovely.” Tiny as she was, she ducked easily under his arm and continued down the hall. Looking over her shoulder, she added, “Robbie is lovely. You’re lucky to have her as a friend.” She placed a slight emphasis on the last word.

“Not as lucky as you, I take it. So, are you going to be coming here often?” He sounded very pleased with this hackneyed double-entendre.

“I don’t know. We’ll see what happens.”

“Because I wouldn’t mind if you do. Maybe we could all have some fun together.”

Finna grimaced. “Well, firstly, I don’t need your permission to come here; it’s Robbie’s place too. Secondly, if by fun you mean you want to kick back and watch Mystery Science Theatre 3000 and eat Malteasers with us, that could be good. If, however, this is a come-on, give it a fucking rest. Your flatmate is not a fan of the penis, okay? Yours or anyone else’s.”

“So she says. What about you?”

“I’ve got nothing against it. It’s not your penis’s fault you’re an arsehole. Now, if you don’t mind, I really need to piss.”

She turned to go, and Adam saw something hanging out the back of her coat. He couldn’t quite make it out in the darkness. It was like a piece of rope with something fluffy at the end.

“What’s this then?” He reached out and tugged on it.

“Ow! You son of a bitch!” Finna whirled around to face him.

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s my tail you wanker!”

Adam staggered backwards as, before his eyes, Finna changed. Her pale skin seemed to take on the hardness of polished marble. On the top of her head, tiny horns sprouted, thrusting up through her white-blonde hair like little saplings. She grimaced as the flesh of her dainty feet seemed to melt before darkening and solidifying into hard, cloven hooves like those of a goat. Worst of all were her eyes, which glittered like two white opals as they fixed on him with an ageless stare. She reached out and seized a handful of his chest hair, nearly yanking him off his feet with a strength that belied her small size. He yelped.

“Shut up.” The Finna-thing’s voice was soft with a dangerous edge. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me. I’ve killed men for less and, among my people, I’m considered downright merciful. You should have met my grandmother. Scourging with pine boughs was her thing. Oh, and the Endless Dance is always a laugh. Doesn’t sound too bad, might even be fun at first, giving yourself up to the rhythm. Then, bit by bit, the soles of your feet blister and crack, and you just keep on going, one agonising step after another. Of course, eventually, your tendons give out, so it’s not really an endless dance, but ‘until you cease to amuse me and I snap your neck like a dry twig dance’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

Adam wriggled in her grasp, but she held him with a grip like iron.

“W-what are you?” he stammered.

“Fair question. Where I come from, we are called the Huldrefolk. We are an ancient people, the nobility of the forest. I believe your kind call us trolls.”

Adam continued to stare in confusion and horror.

“But there’s n-n—”

“No such thing?” Finna cackled and flung him backwards into the wall, ripping free a few dozen dark curls in the process. “You really do have a problem grasping the obvious!”

Adam crumpled to the ground. He looked up at Finna in stunned horror for barely a second before scrambling to his feet and running for his life.

Finna stood and let him go, chuckling softly to herself. Her horns retracted into her scalp, and her feet returned to pink, feminine feet. Only her tail remained—a telltale sign of what she was and where she came from.

A small sound from behind her attracted her attention. She turned to see Robbie standing in the doorway of her bedroom.

“Robbie. I was just—”

“I saw you! You changed.”

Finna looked suddenly sad. “I was going to tell you. My family . . . we are . . . different.”

“I don’t want to know. Get out! Go!” Her voice shook with a mixture of fear and anger.

Finna left without another word.

After she’d gone, Robbie locked the door behind her. If Adam wanted to come back, he had a key. That thing with the horns probably didn’t need a key to get in. She’d seen how it—she—Finna—had tossed Adam aside like a rag doll.

She wondered if she should call the police. And say what? Officer, there was a troll in my hallway. No, it’s gone now. No I’m not crazy . . .

She sighed and poured herself some scotch, trying to slow down the thoughts racing through her mind. If Finna had wanted to hurt her, she could have done it already, so she was probably safe. But who knew what other bizarre creatures might be out there? Strangely, Robbie found she felt more sad than frightened. Last night, they’d been getting on so well. She finished the scotch and poured herself another.

Robbie must have dozed off, because some time later, she found herself startled awake by the kitchen phone ringing. It was Adam, still sounding shaky.

“Robbie! Thank God. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. More or less. You might want to pick up some more scotch. I’ve nearly finished the bottle.”

“Robbie, listen to me. That girlfriend of yours is a monster! A fucking monster! She turned into this . . . thing and came at me.”

“Yeah, I saw. Part of it, anyway. You ran away.”

“Well I was afraid—”

“And so you left me here with a monster. Me, the woman you recently declared your undying love for.” Her voice was flat, unemotional.

“I . . . I wasn’t thinking.”

“No. You don’t seem to do a lot of that. What happened?”

“You said you saw. She turned into some sort of monster with horns and—”

“No, I mean, what set her off? Obviously, she doesn’t look like that all the time. Did you do something to upset her?”

“Upset her? We just talked . . .”

“You hit on her, didn’t you?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I wish I could say I was surprised. So you hit on her and she suddenly grew horns and a tail . . .” The penny dropped. “So that’s what it was! She had a tail the whole time. I noticed it in the pub, but I didn’t realise what it was. Did you say something to her about it?”

“No, I sort of . . . pulled on it.” He sounded embarrassed.

“You idiot! Did you never have a cat as a kid? Never mess with a critter’s tail.”

“I’ll remember that the next time you bring home a freak!”

“Lay off her. Nobody’s perfect.”

“Well threatening your flatmate with crazy shit is pretty fucking far from perfect! I’ve a good mind to go to the police!”

“And tell them what exactly? You know it’ll sound crazy or you would have done it already.”

There was a pause.

“So, what then? All is forgiven? You’re not having that thing in the house again, are you?”

“What do you mean again? She’s still here. She’s right here nibbling my earlobe as we speak. In fact, I think it might be best if you didn’t come back. She’s still pretty pissed off. You can give me a forwarding address for your stuff. Or shall I just send it on to your mum’s?”

She heard him slam the phone down.

The sun was up and Robbie didn’t want to sleep any more. Better to get up and do something constructive. She put on a pot of coffee and began to tidy the flat. She threw away the stale remnants of the previous night’s popcorn and started to do the washing up. The sheer ordinariness of it all was soothing.

She took the laundry basket from her room and gathered up the previous night’s clothes from her bathroom. Checking the pockets of her jacket for tissues, her hand encountered something small and hard. To her astonishment, she pulled out a silver bracelet set with tiny diamonds that sparkled in the morning light. She had never owned anything so beautiful. What was it doing in her pocket? She racked her brain. There shouldn’t have been anything in there except—oh!

She remembered the plastic ring Finna had given her back in the pub the night before. It seemed an age ago now. What had she said?

Here is a token of my gratitude . . .

Maybe this was the same plastic ring somehow transformed by magic. That seemed crazy, the stuff of fairytales. But then, so was Finna herself. Until then, Robbie had half convinced herself that the previous night’s events had been a dream, but here was hard evidence. It was real. She knew the prospect should be terrifying, but somehow it didn’t seem so bad.

 

 

Later that day, there came a knock at the front door. Through the peephole, Robbie saw Finna’s face distorted by the fish-eye lens so that her eyes looked like those of an anime schoolgirl.

She opened the door. Finna stood there in an oversized Sex Pistols T-shirt and a denim miniskirt.

“Hey,” she said awkwardly. “Can I come in?” Her voice lacked all its usual bravado.

“That depends. Is this going to turn into a scene from a Troma film?”

Finna laughed despite herself. “No, not today.”

“Okay then.” Robbie stepped aside and let the other woman enter.

“I owe you an explanation.”

“You can say that again!”

“I was going to tell you later, when we got to know each other better. But since you probably don’t want to know me now, I might as well tell you anyway.” She paused. “Did that make sense?”

“Yes.”

“Oh good. I’m not very good at this.”

“It’s okay. Sit down.” Robbie gestured towards the couch, taking a seat herself.

Finna sat gratefully beside her before beginning again. “It’s not that long a story, really. I am a Huldra. A lady of the forest. Like the fairies of your culture. We are also called ‘troll women.’ Traditionally, my kind lure menfolk off into the forest and have our way with them. Also, we punish the rude and the wicked, and reward the kind and respectful.”

She glanced at Robbie’s wrist where the diamond bracelet shone.

“I see you are wearing my present.” She sounded pleased.

“So it was you. I thought so. How did you make the plastic turn into diamonds?”

“They were always diamonds. It was a little test. Those who can’t accept a gift gracefully don’t deserve it. Many things in this world are not what they appear.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that! Thanks again for the bracelet. It’s beautiful.”

“You deserve beautiful things.” Suddenly she looked pained. “Oh, that sounded so corny. I sound like a sleazy man.”

“It’s okay. Sleazy is as sleazy does. Speaking of sleaze, Adam came on to you, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“It can’t have been much of a crush he had on me then.”

“I don’t know. He wanted to get together with both of us.”

“Ha! I’ll bet he did.”

“Well, you can hardly blame the guy. I mean, the two of us together . . . Can you honestly say that doesn’t turn you on just a little bit?”

“More than a little,” Robbie admitted. “But . . .”

“But the Huldra thing is a bit too strange for you?” Finna sounded sad. “I thought as much. That’s why I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Well . . . I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me at all. But I always thought it was bullshit the way the modern woman is expected to look good twenty-four hours a day. When I’m deprived of sleep and coffee, I don’t look so hot myself.”

“Rubbish! You looked sexy standing in the hallway in your dressing gown at three o’clock in the morning. Of course, you had some crazy bed-hair going on, but other than that . . .” Finna was smiling, but Robbie looked worried.

“It can’t really work, can it? You and I? What can we possibly have in common? I mean, I’m so much older than you.”

“No, you’re not, actually. I told you, I’m a hundred and six.”

“What?”

“My people age slowly. I wouldn’t lure too many menfolk to their doom if I looked like a wizened old lady, now would I?”

“I suppose not,” said Robbie, reeling a little from this latest revelation.

“Age isn’t the issue, anyway. Maturity’s more important, and I assure you, I can be plenty immature. I think Adam Sandler movies are funny.”

“Hang on . . . Back to luring guys to their doom. Do you really do that? Would you have hurt Adam? I mean really hurt him?”

“Nah. That sort of thing gets you into trouble these days. It’s harder to hide bodies than it used to be. So mostly, I just steal their stuff. Only from those who deserve it, mind you. It teaches them a little respect and helps fund my rock-and-roll lifestyle.”

“Oh.” Robbie looked down at the bracelet Finna had given her. “Is this—”

“Stolen? No, not that. It was my grandmother’s.”

“A family heirloom? I can’t accept it.”

“You already have. It’s yours. I want you to have it. It makes you look—how shall I put it? Appreciated. It shows somebody thinks you’re worth diamonds.”

“Thanks.” Robbie was touched.

“And as for whether we can ‘work,’ there’s one way to find out.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I don’t know about the future, but I’m much more interested in the here and now. Here are you, and here am I, and why shouldn’t the two of us have some fun? I can take you away to a magical place, a land of a thousand dances.”

Robbie looked suspicious. “That is a metaphor, right?”

Finna grinned mischievously at her. “Wait and see. Shall we have some music?”

Robbie switched on the stereo. The CD from the night before began to play.

“We can’t slow dance to Patti Smith,” Robbie objected.

“Then let’s fast dance.” She guided Robbie to the sofa and pushed her gently into a sitting position. Standing over Robbie, Finna stroked the other woman’s head.

“You really do have beautiful hair. So thick and dark and full of body. I wish I had hair like that instead of this dandelion fluff of mine.”

“Yours suits you. It’s all wild and spiky and unpredictable.”

“Thank you.” She leaned down and kissed the top of Robbie’s head. Robbie’s heart raced.

After all those nights alone, here was this gorgeous young—or rather, not so young—thing right here beside her. She reached up and pulled Finna’s face towards her, drawing her into a kiss. She had barely begun when Finna pulled away.

“Now, now. I thought you wanted to get to know each other.”

“I want to know you. I want to know all of you.”

“Okay.”

Finna stood and tugged her T-shirt over her head. She stood there for a moment in just her skirt, boots, and black bra. She put one foot up on the couch next to Robbie and bent to unlace her left boot.

From this angle, Robbie had a great view of Finna’s cleavage, her skin like alabaster against the black satin. The bra was trimmed with little cartoon skulls.

“Nice bra,” she remarked, then felt stupid for saying it.

“Thanks,” Finna replied, “but don’t get too attached to it. It’s coming off shortly.”

She finished taking off the boot and began on the other as Robbie admired her smooth, bare calf. Her skin was milky white, almost translucent, with a faint suggestion of pale blue veins at the ankle. Robbie didn’t get a lot of sun, but she looked positively tan next to this little ice maiden.

Once Finna was done with the boots, she unzipped the skirt and stepped out of it. Underneath was a pair of candy-striped panties.

“I was never much of one for matching sets. That involves too much organisation first thing in the morning. Now, would you like to do the rest?”

Robbie nodded, smiling. She stood and ran her hand over Finna’s collarbone, caressing the hollow there. With one finger, she traced a line down the upper curve of one pale breast down into the cleft in the centre. Then, with a deft twist, she undid the little skull-shaped clasp, freeing Finna’s breasts. They were small and shapely.

“Your nipples remind me of those little erasers at the end of pencils,” said Robbie. “I always seem to end up putting those in my mouth.”

She cupped Finna’s breasts in her hands and bent her head towards them.

Again, Finna pulled away. “Hey, first things first! You’re not finished undressing me yet.”

“No, you’re right.” Robbie moved to correct this error. She tugged down Finna’s underpants, revealing a thatch of white-blonde hair.

“So, you’re a real blonde then,” Robbie commented, then added, “Sorry. I bet they all say that.”

Finna shrugged. “It’s a small price to pay for having more fun.”

Placing one hand on Robbie’s shoulder for balance, she stepped out of her panties.

“There.” She waved an arm, indicating her body. “This is me. All four feet, eleven inches.”

Then, stepping back, she did a little twirl. As she turned, Robbie saw that above her round womanly buttocks, she had what was unmistakably a tail. It was a little over a foot long and covered with fawn-coloured fur, ending in a little tuft the same colour as the rest of Finna’s hair. Finna swished it from side to side.

“It kind of steals the show, doesn’t it?” she commented dryly.

“Can I touch it?” Robbie asked.

“Sure.”

Robbie stroked the tail near its base. It felt rough, like horse hair, but not unpleasant.

“Repulsed? Disgusted?” Finna asked.

“Honestly, no. I mean, I can’t deny it seems a little strange, but it also makes you special.”

“Oh, thank God for that. I’d hate to get this far and be disappointed. Now, it’s your turn. Time to get out of those clothes!”

She pushed Robbie back onto the couch and straddled her legs. Robbie reached to remove her glasses, but Finna shook her head.

“No, leave them on. They’re sexy.”

Robbie didn’t argue, but began instead to fumble with the buttons on her blouse as the little blonde buried her face in Robbie’s hair and nuzzled at her neck.

“Hurry up,” she whispered, her breath hot in Robbie’s ear.

“I’m trying. That’s very distracting!”

In response, Finna ground her hips against Robbie’s and gave a soft moan.

Robbie finally undid the last couple of buttons and Finna threw open her blouse, kissing her bare shoulders. As Robbie struggled out of her blouse, Finna reached for her belt, unbuckling and tearing it free, ripping a belt loop in the process. She flung the belt to one side. Then she gasped as Robbie pulled her towards her and took one of her nipples in her mouth, worrying at it with her tongue.

The two women were all grasping hands and greedy mouths until Finna finally managed to pull away long enough to tug down Robbie’s jeans. Then, kneeling between her long, shapely legs, Finna buried her head in the other woman’s crotch. She lapped hungrily at her lover’s pussy, reaching down as she did so to insert her busy fingers into her own moist opening.

A tiny moan escaped Robbie’s mouth as she felt the tongue stud brush against her clit. Finna slowed down, running the tip of her tongue from the opening of her vagina up around her clit and back. Then she began licking in earnest. As the passion built up, Robbie twitched and bucked involuntarily with each lick until she came with a final violent shudder.

Finna sat up, licking her lips.

“Thank you,” said Robbie breathlessly. “That was wonderful.”

But Finna didn’t seem to be listening. Her eyes were half closed and her tail swished absently from side to side. Her left hand still moved at her crotch, her fingers rubbing her clit with one finger sliding rapidly in and out of her vagina.

“Here,” said Robbie. “Let me help you with that.”

Finna was so wet that Robbie easily slid two fingers inside her. She withdrew them, then drove them in harder, over and over until the other woman called out something in Norwegian.

“Are you okay?” Robbie asked, concerned.

“Yes, don’t stop! For fuck’s sake, don’t stop!”

So Robbie slid in a third finger for good measure and drove them in and out until Finna finally came to a noisy climax and evicted her lover with a twist of her hips.

“Well,” said Robbie finally. “This isn’t a bad way to spend a Saturday afternoon.”

“True,” said Finna, looking around for her panties.

“Finna,” said Robbie hesitantly, “this might be awfully forward of me, but the thing is . . .”

“Spit it out.”

“I’m looking for a new flatmate.”

 

 

Three months later . . .

 

Robbie bit her lip against the slight stinging sensation.

“There. All done,” said the tattooist.

Robbie looked at her ankle, from which a wildly grinning, yellow-haired troll doll now winked at her.

“Finna, you can look now before it’s covered up with gauze.”

Finna came over from the bench where she had been waiting impatiently.

“For you, my apple-blonde angel,” said Robbie, as the younger woman leaned over her shoulder.

“Oh! Robbie, it’s perfect! I love it. Now I’m going to have to get myself one of a sexy librarian.”

“Maybe another time. Want to go out for ice cream?”

“Sure. My treat.”

“Then maybe afterwards we could go dancing?”

Finna’s tail snaked across and patted Robbie affectionately on the backside. The tattooist’s eyes widened, but he wisely said nothing. It almost made Finna wish she hadn’t picked his pocket.