What Falls and What Grows - quietpagan (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day; misty and pastel, with an early-morning chill and the bare beginnings of birdsong. At half past four, there weren’t enough people out to notice the yelling in the canal. It was too early.

In the foggy shadow of a concrete bridge, a troll in silvery armor pushed himself up with his blade, and glared at his darker opponent.

“Yield, Kanjigar!” yelled his adversary, the glow of dawn doing nothing to soften his jagged form.

“A Trollhunter never yields,” the armored troll spat.

Or sleeps, thought their watcher, hidden amongst the support beams of the bridge above. It’s too f*cking early for a swordfight.

The misty morning made the battle a bit indistinct, but the yelling gave the figures away. The Trollhunter managed to land a punch, and his opponent skid to the edge of the shadow.

“Your turn, Bular,” said the armored troll, his sword raised in challenge. “Yield.”

Bular responded by kicking the Trollhunter across the shadow, forcing him to retreat.

“There is nowhere left for you to run, Trollhunter!” Bular taunted.

The hidden watcher tensed as the Trollhunter ran up the side of the canal, jumping onto the underside of the bridge, far too close for comfort, but neither fighters noticed her, too intent on killing each other. Every once in a while they would get hit with the rising sunlight, making an interesting sound and sparkle as the light burned their skin.

She had no regrets for being for being forced out of that trait.

Bular managed to pin the Trollhunter on the side of the and shove him half into the morning light. He screamed in pain, part of his face and left shoulder turning into grey stone, but he managed to return the favor to Bular, who yanked away in a panic. The Trollhunter was weakened, it was easy to see; his left arm was half-paralyzed, he was out of breath, one eye had turned to stone. Bular had been correct in his brag; either he or the sun would kill the Hunter, because Kanjigar was too weakened to survive the fight, and too injured to escape. Another Trollhunter, down.

Assured of his victory, Bular took a step back, pausing to admire his impending kill as the Trollhunter fought for breath at the edge of the shadow.

“I may end,” Kanjigar rasped, half-leaning against a pillar. “But the fight will not.”

The heel of one foot left the edge of the beam.

He chose the sun! The watcher almost moved from her hiding-spot, trying to see everything clearly. He f*cking chose the sun!

The Trollhunter leaned backward off the bridge, falling into the daylight. His skin crackled and sparkled with blue energy…

….and then a cloud covered the sun.

Kanjigar flailed for a moment and twisted, landing poorly. His partially-changed left fist hit the ground and cracked, massive chunks falling off of it. Above him, Bular screamed in rage.

The sound seemed to force the Hunter out of his shock, and he sprinted toward the watcher’s side of the canal, hurling himself over the edge and into the shady park beyond just as the cloud cover flew by.

“You’re dying, Trollhunter,” Bular roared after him, stuck in the shadowed underside of the bridge. “How long do you think you’ll last in open day? You’ll be dead before the hour’s up!”

The watcher couldn’t see what the Hunter was doing, hidden inside of the infrastructure as she was. Bular snarled and growled, punching a pillar and shying away from the creeping sun.

She waited for twenty minutes after the son of Gunmar left, and then crept out of her hiding place and carefully picked her way across the underside of the bridge, coming up on the opposite side of the canal. It would take her longer to get home, but she didn’t want to risk running into the Trollhunter, even if he was halfway to the edge of death.

Kanjigar watched from the shadow of a large tree as the stocky human climbed out of the canal and walked casually over to the next bridge, head sweeping from side to side occasionally, as if she was checking for watchers herself. The amulet attached to his breastplate pulsed as he slid a little farther down the trunk, his uninjured hand shaking in the effort to steady himself.

“I know, you blasted thing,” he whispered, keeping a careful eye on the human. She crossed the other bridge back toward his side of the canal, and he wove through the shadows, trying to keep an eye on her. His balance was off; he only had one good hand, one working eye, and a dizzying headache was already forming, smothering over his mind like a heavy sheet. He struggled to remember his goal, occasionally losing sight of the human or getting distracted by the knowledge of his impending doom. As someone who had always had a clear mind and easy sight of his targets, the disorientation was more unnerving than the partial paralysis in his arm and face.

He caught up with the human on the edge of the park, trudging as quietly as he could and hissing as patches of the rising sunlight filtered through the treetops and stung him. There was a discarded blanket kicked underneath a bench and he threw it over himself, dodging and weaving behind human vehicles and dwellings as best as he could.

The human didn’t seem to be sensible of her follower; she walked calmly for several streets, barely looking around anymore. A key appeared in her hand and she let herself into a tall building.

The amulet flashed again, and Kanjigar wrenched himself away from where he had been leaning, crossing the street in a hurry and laboriously pulling himself up the iron staircase apparatus attached to the side of the human’s dwelling.

“Alright, you, give me some help,” he muttered. His words were slurred, more than they should have been with the amount of dead stone on his face, and he knew that the creeping damage the sun had given him was beginning to affect his brain.

The amulet flashed when he reached a window a quarter of the way up, and he unceremoniously punched the glass in, falling through the opening with little grace. The human had not entered yet.

His stone hand was clumsy in its attempts to close the curtains and darken the room; half of it was from the paralysis, but Kanjigar knew that the other half was fear. Bular was right – he would be dead before the hour was up. The amulet had already chosen his successor, as unnerving as that was to feel. And it chose a human. Not his son, as he had suspected, or another troll, as it had since it had been created.

Of course, he could go back to Trollmarket and get help, but for what? A Trollhunter with one working hand and eye, and brain damage severe enough to impair his judgement?

He was sorely tempted. Sorely tempted. He would live however long it took him to get fed up. But what would become of Trollmarket with a Hunter incapable of defending it?

His good hand was already twitching toward the sun-lit curtain when the door in the next room opened and shut, the sound of a lock echoing in the quiet. A jangle of keys, the thud of boots on the floor. Then silence. He turned around, and the human was standing in the doorway, looking as if she was going to have a heart attack.

“Please, do not scream,” he said. Or, he tried to. The words didn’t come out quite as he intended.

The human watched, still as stone, as he achingly stood up from his hunch. His head was tall enough to brush the ceiling, and she wavered a bit, leaning against the doorframe.

“My name is Kanjigar,” he said slowly. “I am a troll, and I do not have much time to tell you what you need to know.”

The human’s eyes flashed toward the window and then back to him; he struggled to retain his balance, head pounding horribly, as she looked at his damaged arm and face, the shaking of his one good hand, and the armor covering his body.

“In short, you have been chosen as my successor, the next Trollhunter. It is your destiny, your honor, to defend both the troll and the human worlds from those that would threaten them. You will need this…”
His fingers were disgracefully clumsy as he pried the amulet out of the breastplate, making the armor fade away. Without it, he felt remarkably fragile, as if the armor had been the only thing holding him together. Kanjigar clutched the amulet for one more moment and then held it out to the human; she shook her head.

“I’m not the Trollhunter,” she whispered. Kanjigar felt a sudden jolt of annoyance and he quickly strode over to her, looming head, shoulders, and chest over her diminutive form.

“Perhaps you do not understand,” he said. “This is not a choice. You have been chosen.”
“I know what the Trollhunter is,” said the human quietly, looking him dead in the eye. “And I know I can’t be it.”
He glared at her in confusion before her words really hit him.

Oh.

Ohhh….

“You are a Changeling,” he said. A brief glow in her eyes answered him.

He was not so much shocked as…mildly surprised and slightly agitated. The amulet did have an unusual sense of humor, after all.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply; the motion made him dizzy again and he had to grasp the doorway to stay on his feet. When he opened his eyes, the Changeling was still there, looking incredibly uncertain and more than a little bit afraid.

“…Nevertheless,” The Hunter murmured, holding out the amulet again. “My time has come, and it has chosen you. This is not something you can refuse.”
The Changeling hesitated and he said, “Just take the blasted thing,” the unusual agitation building again. She snatched it out of his hand and held it like it was going to burn her, and when it didn’t, she closed her fist around it and held it to her chest.

“What now,” she said quietly. Kanjigar pulled away from the doorway and slowly moved to the window. The glow of sunlight was almost bright enough to burn. A Changeling Trollhunter, heh. This will be exceedingly interesting.

“Now…my task is done.”
He stood in front of the window and felt the heat and the warmth that had taken his arm and eye.

“The call will be heard when I am felled. Sooner or later, someone should come.”

“What are you – “

“Please do your best to protect them,” he said. He had never pleaded before, not to anyone, but despite his surety of the amulet’s power he was shaky about its actual decision.

“They will not accept this,” said the Changeling, close beside him. He had not heard her approach.

“Prove yourself,” he replied. “You are more than what you were made to be. Prove yourself.”

He forced his left arm across his chest, balanced as best he could, and threw open the curtain. The light burned as he pulled his right arm over his left, but the pain faded into a release, and he fell into the Void on the edge of the new Trollhunter’s cry.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

"Long live the weeds that overwhelm

My narrow vegetable realm!

The bitter rock, the barren soil

That force the son of man to toil;

All things unholy, marred by curse,

The ugly of the universe."

- Theodore Roethke, Long Live the Weeds

Oh.

She blinked in the sudden light, the crackling of Kanjigar the Courageous’s skin giving her goosebumps.

He was dead. A dead Trollhunter, in her living room. She had the amulet.

Oh, f*ck .

She made an abortive attempt to touch him and reconsidered; what he if broke?

Someone was coming, he said. Trollmarket would have been alerted to his death, and someone would come for the amulet and the new Hunter.

It took twenty minutes for her to pack, unpack, panic, make herself a cup of tea, and then finally sit down, chewing absently on a bowl of cereal as she calmed herself and thought about the situation.

It was five am on a sunny day, and no trolls would be able to come after her until night fell. She had the entire day to plan, get things in order, and figure out what the f*ck she was going to do.

Oh, Renata.

What the f*ck was she going to do?

She paced around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinet doors just to make noise. If she skipped town, she might lose the trolls, but would the amulet draw them to her? Could it be tracked? Magical objects often gave off specific signatures. What if she just left it behind?

The idea had appeal, but she doubted it would work. Taking the amulet out of her pocket, Renata opened the trash can and threw it in, mentally rejecting it as fervently as she could – it certainly wasn’t hard.

Sure enough, when she turned around there the damn thing was, innocently glittering on the kitchen table.

So it has teleportive powers, she mused, grabbing it up as she sat. As far as amulets went, it looked more like something off of Doctor Who than an ancient artifact. The inscription around the edge was in a very old form of runic Trollish, but to her surprise it changed, forming into a more readable dialect before moving into what looked like Old English, and finally into modern English.

For the Glory of Merlin, it said, Daylight is mine to command.

What exactly did that mean? She’d only ever seen the Trollhunter, either in battle or in books, with armor and a glowing sword; how did one command daylight?

It was hard to think that ‘daylight’ was actually hers to command. How did the amulet even choose? Was it sentient, semi-sentient? Did it look for specific traits? Because she was sure she shared none with Kanjigar the Courageous.

She leaned back, and set the thing on the table.

The Hunter had said that it was not a choice. The amulet refused to be thrown away.

Renata didn’t like it, not at all.

But what an opportunity. When had the Trollhunter been anything but a good, solid troll, noble and brave and unyielding? A Changeling Trollhunter was treasonous in the very thought. Changelings were lesser than trolls, lesser than humans, barely on par with goblins and elves.

And now I’m the Hunter.

“Fine,” she muttered, grabbing the amulet off of the table. “I accept.”

Maximum effort, she thought, deciding the embrace the thing wholeheartedly. If she had no choice but to do this, then she was going to give it her all. Either side of the war would happily kill her simply to make the amulet pass on to another, and she wasn’t going to go down without a damn bloody fight.

The Amulet of Daylight, Merlin’s creation, had decided she was the worthiest one to wield it, and whoever had a problem with that could take it up with Merlin himself.

And her giant glowing sword, when she figured out how to summon the damn thing.

Two hours into being the Trollhunter, and Renata was still debating on how best not to die. The Changeling thing was a problem.

Trolls could not detect a Changeling without a gaggletack – there was no scent, no marking that could distinguish them from humans. So she could easily masquerade as a human for whatever trolls came around.

The problem was, how would Trollmarket react to a human Hunter? Presumably better than a Changeling Hunter, but on the whole she would probably get a lot of crap and disrespect. It would be nice to keep her job and apartment, though, and her human body was easy to disguise in case she ran across any old friends, but:

After the death of her familiar, her human form was truly hers. However: as the years went by, troll characteristics started to bleed over. Humans just thought she was weird and a bit ugly, but would trolls recognize the changes? A trollish human would probably be suspicious.

But what if she masqueraded as a troll? She’d have to be careful about the sunlight-immunity thing, and frankly troll food was utterly disgusting to her, and she’d have to come up with a new background and she really didn’t know much about troll history or society, but still – Trollhunters were trolls, always had been, always would be, as far as anyone needed to know. She could pull off ignorance of customs and culture as being a loner from a far-off colony or something. There would be questions, certainly, but fewer than if she were a human Hunter.

Staying in troll form for the long term would be more labor-intensive, though. She’d have a crap time of it to go between human and troll if she wanted to keep her life on the surface as it was. But she’d be able to live in Heartstone Trollmarket, a place no Changeling had ever visited and lived to tell about it. She may have to give up her human life, but it might be worth it.

Briefly, she had the idea of telling the trolls outright about her true nature. The mental images of being torn limb from limb were rather unpleasant, and she quickly decided that she’d prefer to get trained up before even entertaining the idea of telling anyone. Human or troll, she had to pick.

By the time the sun reached its peak, she had decided ‘troll’ and refused to think about it any further. The armor she’d seen on Kanjigar had covered his face reasonably well, and she was technically considered dead to the Changeling community, so if she happened to meet anyone familiar she had to hope that they wouldn’t recognize her. And if they did, she’d have a big sword to back her up.

She went to the bookstore and spoke with her supervisor, asking for personal leave because of a family tragedy. If going back and forth between troll and human became impossible, she’d quit, but she wanted to keep her place in the human world for as long as she could. The next several hours were spent visiting banks, post offices, and storage units, trying to consolidate and liquidate everything she could without arousing suspicion. She sorted out a new history for herself, close enough to the truth that real falsehoods were used sparingly - she was practiced enough at lying that it shouldn’t have been a problem, but the most believable lies were always rooted in truths.

She was good at making new identities for herself and came up with a new one quite easily: Alexandra Velius, a troll from western New Jersey, born in a very small clan that absolutely no one would have heard of, because it didn’t really exist.

She didn’t dare do anything with the amulet yet; she still felt like it was a beacon or target. It was hidden beneath a floorboard in her kitchen, where she kept her passports and identification cards, and she didn’t touch it again until her neighbors started coming home from work. She was prepared to be gone for a week; she’d have time to judge the best permanent situation by then.

An hour before sunset Renata locked her door and set out for the canal. There was plenty of sunshine to provide her cover – she looked like any other pedestrian taking an evening walk. She settled down on a bench in the park and waited, pretending to be calm until she could almost believe it.

When the shadows lengthened and the light dimmed she turned her form, slid down the side of the canal, and pressed into the shadows of the bridge.

The persona she had developed over the day slid over her like a veil; if she was going to be convincing as a troll and Trollhunter, she had to wear Alexandra like it was a second skin. She flexed her arms and settled into her unused troll form, allowing Alexandra to seep into her bones until she was convinced of it herself. She’d be the Trollhunter for the rest of her life, and so needed to forget about Renata, or Petra, or Verity, or any of the other names she had gone by in the past. Renata closed her eyes, and Alexandra opened them.

She watched the wall that opened into Heartstone Trollmarket. She didn’t have to wait long; as soon as the sun fell behind the tops of the trees, a yellow arch appeared on the concrete and shattered into glowing blue pieces, swirling around in a spiral before opening into a doorway.

A short, many-limbed troll crossed through first – Alexandra was surprised to see a cousin of her clan. He was followed by a massive brute who seemed composed of nothing but arms and hair. The portal closed behind them and the short one dusted off his hands.

“Well, my dear fellow, shall we continue our search?”
“Barely got started,” said the big one, moving past the other and peering over the underside of the bridge.

“…Yes, well at least we have the general location of our felled Trollhunter’s body,” said the short one, looking rather fussy with all four hands on his hips.

“Need to find out if amulet has chosen.”
Alexandra had to wonder about the big one’s speech. Those that were big and brutish in troll culture weren’t as stupid and slow-witted as humans often imagined brawny monsters as being. Perhaps English was a language he was still learning? The only other trolls she had encountered who had similar communication issues were stuck in the Darklands, the results of kidnapping and brutal training in efforts to make them into violent, obedient soldiers.

“Of course it has chosen,” said the fussy one. “We simply don’t know who it has chosen.”
That was her cue. Taking a deep breath, Alexandra pushed herself out of the deeper shadows.

“I believe that would be me,” she said.

Both trolls jumped and turned around to face her. She bit back the instinctive urge to run and instead walked up to them, holding the amulet before her.

“Oh!” The short one gasped, the amulet’s glow illuminating his face as he peered at it.

“Found you,” said the big one happily. Both of them smiled at her.

“Our new Trollhunter,” said the short one quietly, although he honestly wasn’t that much shorter than her.

“It is an honor to meet you, Master…?”
“Alexandra Velius, daughter of Asphodelus,” she said, as easily as if she had been saying it her whole life.

The short one clasped two of his hands in front of him and two behind his back, doing a neat little bow.

“I am known as Blinky,” he said. The big one waved.

“I’m AAARRRGGHH,” he said. “Three r’s.”
They watched Alexandra expectantly as she had a quiet mental breakdown.

Blinky, or Blinkous Gladrigal, was a renowned academic and trainer of Trollhunters, known for his paranoia and fixation on conspiracy theories. AAARRRGGHH was the former general of Gunmar’s army, a defector who cost them that final battle when he joined forces with Deya the Deliverer.

Both very famous trolls and, fortunately, neither were known to be particularly violent. Anymore, at least.

“I’ve heard of you,” she said honestly. “The hero of the Battle of Killahead, and the most esteemed scholar in Heartstone Trollmarket.”
“Oh, well, I suppose that I…”
Blinky sputtered and smiled, while his friend looked at Alexandra like he knew exactly what she was doing. She gripped the amulet tighter and cleared her throat.

“So. Shall we…?”
“Ah, yes, of course. AAARRRGGHH, if you would please.”
The larger troll nodded and lumbered back to the wall, catching a yellow crystal that Blinky threw to him. Alexandra watched in fascination as he drew a glowing arch on the concrete and then gently tapped it with his fist, sending it to pieces.

“This is all rather convenient,” said Blinky, smiling at her enchanted face. AAARRRGGHH stepped aside and Blinky gestured for her to go before him. A sudden well of fear shot through her, the irrational worry that they knew and were leading her into a trap, but she didn’t sense anything about the two that truly felt untrustworthy, and without a last glance to the human world she gingerly walked through the portal.

It was just an empty cavern, a cliff ending in an enormous black pit. She kept herself close to the wall and almost got stepped on when AAARRRGGHH came through.

“This way, please,” said Blinky, seemingly oblivious to her nervousness, and he stepped forward to the edge of the cliff.

Into the pit?

At that moment, glowing blue crystals appeared, jutting out from the sides of the hole in a wide spiral. It was one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen.

Blinky and AAARRRGGHH seemed amused by her reaction.

“I suppose you have never been to the Heartstone Trollmarket before?”
Alexandra shook her head, stepping onto the first of the crystals.

“No. No I, ah, haven’t.”

“Well, then this should be quite an experience. If I may, which Heartstone do you hail from?”
PANIC! PANIC!

She hadn’t practiced this! She hadn’t been high enough in the Changeling echelons to be allowed to research stuff like Heartstones; she’d thought there was just the one!

“My family moved away from our Heartstone shortly after I was born,” Alexandra said calmly, her heart pounding but knowing that her voice wouldn’t betray her fear.

“We mostly kept to ourselves, underneath the sewers of New Jersey,” she pulled out of her ass, filing away the lie in case she was asked again.

Blinky and AAARRRGGHH both nodded sagely.

“Ah, New Jersey; a strange, exotic land indeed,” said Blinky. “Shall we continue?”

The glowing entrance closed behind them as Alexandra followed Blinky down the crystals.

“As I was saying, this is very convenient. No having to search for the next Trollhunter, no tedious explanations. You seem to have accepted this quite well.”

Alexandra nodded.

“Kanjigar was quite clear,” she said, jumping a gap between crystals. “There really was no sense in refusing.”
Blinky stopped dead.

“You spoke to Kanjigar?”
“Is that a problem?”
Was that a problem? Did Hunters not speak to their successors?

Blinky turned around, clasping two hands in front of him and two behind his back, looking vaguely disturbed.

“Exactly what transpired during that conversation,” he said. There was a hint of suspicion in his voice.

“What are you asking, exactly?”
“Amulet chooses new Trollhunter after death,” said AAARRRGGHH behind her. Blinky nodded in agreement.

“Precisely. If you spoke to our former Trollhunter, and the amulet was passed to you shortly after – “
“I didn’t kill him,” Alexandra said dryly. “He was wounded from a fight with Bular. He managed to get away, but his injuries took him shortly after. The amulet led him to me.”

Her heart pounded as Blinky stared at her silently, as if trying to read her for a lie.

“Amulet chose,” said AAARRRGGHH quietly, and Blinky sighed, turning around and continuing down the crystal staircase.

“True,” he murmured. “The amulet must have sensed Kanjigar’s forthcoming death. I suppose his body is in a safe place?”
Did her living room count?
“Yes,” Alexandra said, as they reached the bottom of the stairs. A warm light spilled upon her face, and she looked up.

“I didn’t want it to get…”
Her words faded from her throat, and Blinky smiled at her.

“Welcome,” he said, “To Heartstone Trollmarket.”

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

"What a diversity of creative wanderers - Weeds. I enjoy their beauty and variety, and do nothing to reap their rewards. I neither hoe, nor plant, nor water, nor fertilize, nor prune. They come and go in lovely profusion as the seasons move. Often a pleasure, sometimes a pain in the wrong place; and always an example of the wondrous assertion of Being."

- Mike Garofalo

Alexandra hadn’t really been sure what she was expecting, but the explosion of light and sound sure wasn’t it. There were crystals everywhere, brighter than fairy lights, bathing everything in washes of neon color. It wasn’t dark or oppressive at all, despite being underground – this was nothing like the Darklands. It was like one of those raves where people were splashed with bright paint and lit with blacklights. Far at the back, a massive red and orange crystal jutted out of an immense cavern, illuminating everything around it with a fiery glow.

Little magical signs displayed the wares of the stalls around them, statues of trolls jutted out from the walls as if the architecture has grown from the very rock itself, tiny things that looked like garden gnomes scurried underfoot, and everywhere, everywhere, there were trolls.

Trolls of every size, color, and make wandered around, several of which were kinds she had never seen before. Most of the trolls she had encountered were either gangly Changelings or enormous Gumm-Gumms, all of them of different clans. Many of the trolls here looked alike, and Alexandra guessed that several clans originated from Heartstone. She couldn’t help but notice that AAARRRGGHH and Blinky and herself actually stood out a bit – there were no other trolls quite like them, that she could see.

They were actually attracting stares. Alexandra fought down the instinct to shrink and instead stood as tall as she could, straightening her back and trying to look like she knew exactly what she was doing. She knew that nobody could actually see her true nature, but the stares still made her nervous; in her experience, attention meant danger.

I’ll just have to get used to it, she thought. The position of Trollhunter wasn’t exactly low-profile.

“How many people live here,” she asked.

“The number varies each season, but one thousand is the general average. Trolls come from far and wide for our wares and remedies. It’s a place to return to, a second home for many trolls who live elsewhere.”

“I can see why,” Alexandra murmured. It was certainly a warm place, familiar to her bones and her blood. There was a faint thrumming, a hum that pulled at her. She shook her arms to try to get rid of the feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant – more unnerving. It was the unfamiliar feeling of belonging. She didn’t dare ask about the hum.

“If you grew up away from a heartstone, I understand that the feeling may be unexpected.”
Alexandra looked down at Blinky, who was smiling knowingly.

Note: Blinky is very observant.

“So the heartstone creates the thrumming?”
“No, not quite,” Blinky said, shaking his head. From her right side, AAARRRGGHH clapped a massive hand across her back.

“Heartstone,” he rumbled, and Alexandra suddenly understood. The hum wasn’t created by the stone – it was the combined beat of the heart of every troll in the market, resonating through the crystal until it vibrated with life.

“The heartstone is our life, our light. All trolls are connected to our heartstones.”
I can feel it. It was like a hug of the heart, a deep acceptance.

And something tainted it. There was a dark worm, a spreading ink stain, something that prevented her from wholly taking in the feeling, and she knew it was the lie. The heartstone wanted to take her in, but she was changed, and she wouldn’t let it. She had been raised in honesty, knowing her lie, and though she had learned to lie to survive she couldn’t bring herself to lie to the humming in her blood.

She shivered again, and tried to press aside the insistent thrumming.

“Who is she,” Alexandra heard behind her.

“Move, get out of my way – “

“Um – “

AAARRRGGHH moved in front of Alexandra protectively as a small crowd surrounded them.

“This, friends, is our new Trollhu – “
A large blue troll shoved his way through the center of the throng. His horns were almost as big as his arms, though it looked like he had skipped leg day a few times too many.

“Who is this,” Mr Tempermental demanded. Blinky nervously wrung his hands and took several steps back.

“As I was saying, Draal, this is – “
“One of your clan, Blinky? I wasn’t aware that your people were great travelers,” said Draal, thundering up and standing in front of Alexandra. He had more mass than she, but she was taller than him and she’d stood up to bigger trolls, and in human form, too. The best way to stay alive was to stand steady, and she didn’t budge, glaring at him with all four of her eyes.

“This is our new Trollhunter, Draal,” said Blinky quietly.

The blue brute blinked, and then stuck his huge face directly into Alexandra’s.

“She can’t be,” he growled, “This outsider has no place here.”
You haven’t got a clue, f*ckwad.

“The amulet seems to think the opposite,” she said lightly. She felt the enormous presence of AAARRRGGHH at her back and it bolstered her.

Draal didn’t take that well. He roared in her face and smashed his fists at her feet – she had to jump back to avoid being crippled. Apparently the asshole meant business.

“Please try to remain calm, Draal,” Blinky said weakly.

“Amulet chose,” said AAARRRGGHH, his breath ruffling Alex’s hair. Alexandra brought the amulet out of her pocket and held it out as proof; it pulsed helpfully.

Draal cursed in Trollish and drew himself up as tall as he could.

“I am Draal, son of Kanjigar,” he said, thumping a fist to his chest. “And the amulet’s rightful heir.”

Oh, f*ck everything, she thought. Kanjigar’s son! She had honestly not thought of that.

“The Trollhunter thing is hereditary?”
“Um, well, actually no,” said Blinky, drawing up to her side. “But it was thought that…”

“When my father fell,” Draal said, “The honor should have passed to me.”

He put a hand out, trying to grab the amulet, and Alexandra jerked it away, falling into a defensive stance even as she bumped back into AAARRRGGHH.

The amulet pulsed and pushed back against Draal; AAARRRGGHH kept Alexandra from falling, but Draal was sent onto his back. There was a gasp from the crowd as he tumbled to the floor; Draal shook his head, looking both enraged and heartbroken.

“Look,” Alexandra started quietly – the very last thing she wanted to do was get off on the wrong foot, especially with someone who apparently had rather high standing. “I’m sorry, but – “
“Save your apologies, outsider,” Draal snarled, rising back to his feet and turning his spiked back on her.

“Shall I see what Vendel has to say on the matter?”
Blinky strolled past Alexandra, patting Draal on the shoulder.

“Feel perfectly free to do so,” he said cheerfully. “In the meantime, we’ll be beginning our new Trollhunter’s training. Lovely to see you as ever, Draal. Pardon me, excuse us…”

Alexandra edged around Draal and followed Blinky through the crowd. When they were in a scarcer part of the market she asked,

“So if the amulet’s power isn’t passed through bloodlines, why did Draal expect…?”

“To become Trollhunter, and follow in his father’s steps?”

They entered a tall, slender crack in the market wall, topped with the glowing symbol of a sword. The walls were smooth and polished, just big enough to AAARRRGGHH to pass through.

“Draal has been training for it his entire life. Perhaps it was wrong, perhaps it was false hope indeed, but nevertheless, Draal has always felt like it would be his destiny to take his father’s place as Trollhunter. And to have you, an outsider, a stranger, snatch – however unintentionally – the honor from him, makes him a tad bit…”
“Upset,” Alexandra finished.

“Understatement,” said AAARRRGGHH.

They stepped out of the claustrophobic tunnel into something out of a picture book. Alexandra had only ever seen pictures of the palaces carved in the mountains of Petra, but the…

“Behold, the Hero’s Forge!” Blinky exclaimed.

…the Hero’s Forge, yes, was just as spectacular. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH allowed her to wonder in silence, marveling in the size and splendor of the place. It was darkly lit, with deep shadows and reddish light, but still she could make out intricate carvings and incredible statues atop the enormous gates.

The walked quietly over a thin bridge; the chasm below was too deep to see through to the bottom.

AAARRRGGHH and Blinky, like most trolls, were surprisingly silent when they walked, and all that she could hear was the distant sound of the market and the soft shuffle of stone-flesh.

The statues, she realized as they crossed the bridge, weren’t actually statues.

“You predecessors,” said Blinky quietly. “Trollhunters past, a line of heroism that reaches back to the age of Merlin. Here, you see – “
He gestured to an empty plinth.

“-Will be the final resting place of Kanjigar the Courageous, whenever you feel free to reveal his location,” Blinky finished, raising an eyebrow at her.

Alexandra smirked.

“I’ll bring him down tomorrow,” she said. “Didn’t want him to get graffitied on.”

“That should suffice. Are you ready to start your training?”
Now?!

Alexandra froze for a moment, then nodded. She’d honestly thought there would be something, some ceremony or reading of lore or something before they got into actual training, but, she supposed, the sooner she learned how to use the amulet the better.

Blinky asked for them to step back, and then unleashed a gigantic stone blade from the wall that fell less than two feet from where Alexandra was standing. She scrambled backward, and another blade emerged from the floor, forcing her to dodge to the side. AAARRRGGHH was scurrying out of the way and he looked like he knew exactly where he was going, so she ran and jumped up on his shoulder, sliding off as soon as he got the edge of the ring.

“What the actual f*ck,” she panted, pressing herself against the wall beside AAARRRGGHH.

“That was very good, Master Alexandra,” Blinky said, far too calmly. “You have excellent reflexes.”
All the slow ones got eaten, she thought viciously. AAARRRGGHH put a hand behind her back and pushed her forward, into the ring once more.

“Exactly how many Trollhunters have you killed just by sending them into the death arena on their first day,” Alexandra shouted. She ducked underneath another blade and clumsily rolled away. Her troll form was out of use; her arms tangled with each other when she tried to scramble across the floor, and her legs and overly-long torso were already feeling achy. She was extremely relieved when a tall, pale troll stomped across the causeway and yelled at Blinky.

“Blinkous Galadrigal!”
Blinky turned off the Death Ring and Alexandra gratefully moved out of the arena. The pale troll, tremendously tall and unusually hairy, walked across the ring and stood in front of Alexandra. She couldn’t help but wonder how well he could actually see; his eyes were cloudy and grey, speckled with a galaxy of cataracts.

“I am Vendel, son of Rundle, son of Kilfred,” he said. “And you are?”
“Alexandra, daughter of Asphodelus.”
Vendel carefully looked her over. She’d never felt more looked-through than by the half-blind troll.

She knew her troll body wasn’t exactly in peak form; she stayed human the majority of the time, and with the death of her familiar, the two had started to blend. She didn’t know if she was tall or short for her kind, or an unusual color, or if her hair or clothing were strange. The only other troll of her kind she had seen was Blinky, and even then, she could tell they still weren’t from the exact same clan. She was taller than he, had more conspicuous horns than he, and two fewer eyes. Vendel didn’t make any comment on her appearance, and stepped away after a minute.

“I would like her to be tested by the Soothscryer,” he finally announced.

“But Vendel, please, we’ve only begun training! Surely it is too early to – “
Vendel pointed to a spot on the arena floor, silencing Blinky with a glare. Blinky fell back and Vendel motioned for Alexandra to come forward.

She stood where he indicated and waited.

“The amulet, please,” said Vendel patronizingly.

Ah. Alex held the thing out and it made a ding! The carvings on the floor lit with red, and with an immensely loud churning a chunk of the center rose out of the ground, forming a semblance of a fearsome troll.

“Behold the Soothscryer,” said Vendel imperiously. “It will judge your true spirit.”
Well, f*ck.

“Insert one of your right hands, daughter of Asphodelus.”
She wondered if this was part of the test, to see if she was stupid enough to actually stick her hand in a mystical garbage-disposal of stone teeth. She looked over at Blinky and he nodded, though he looked exceedingly worried.

Alexandra carefully stuck her top right hand into the mouth of the machine, and it clamped on it faster than she could see. She resisted yelping, but she was terrified that she wouldn’t get the hand back. The pressure wasn’t painful, but there was an uncomfortable tingling in her fingers and she was scared to death that the thing would see her spirit and judge her as wrong, as a lying thing – she’d be killed before she could even escape the arena.

Just as she was starting to despair, the Soothscryer spat her back out.

“That took a while,” she heard AAARRRGGHH mutter. Vendel watched the Soothscryer as it pulsed and sank back into the floor. Alexandra flexed her tingling hand and felt like pelting for the door.

“You appear to have passed,” said Vendel, sounding rather disappointed. Alexandra barely stopped herself from sinking to the floor in relief.

“Is that proof enough for you?”

Blinky stepped back into the arena, patting her right arm and shoulder.

“I suppose it must be. Continue your training, Blinkous.”

It took them all of five minutes to realize that Alexandra had never summoned the armor before, and had no idea how. She incanted the sh*t out of the thing, envisioned and envisioned and finally got so fed up that she threw the amulet on top of Kanjigar’s empty plinth. It appeared back in her pocket an instant later, as she knew it would, but it had still felt good to throw it.

“Perhaps you are not envisioning hard enough, Master Alexandra-“
“I’m going to have nightmares about this thing if I envision any harder,” she said, angrily tapping her fingers against the metal. “Can we take a break? Is there somewhere I can…be alone, for a while?”
“Of course, Master Alexandra,” Blinky said. “I suppose this is as good a time as any to procure a corner of the market for use as your quarters – if that is suitable, of course.”
Alexandra pocketed the amulet and nodded. She took a second to calm herself down, and led the way to the bridge.

“I was only visiting for a short time anyway,” she said. “I don’t have anywhere permanent to stay yet. Do you know of any place that can accommodate me? I really don’t need much.”
“There are a few places I know of,” said Blinky. “There is one that was…recently vacated, you might say.”
“I’m not using Kanjigar’s home,” Alexandra said firmly. The idea of staying in the previous Trollhunter’s residence, especially since his body was still taking up a good third of her living room, was not particularly appealing.

Draal would have a heart attack, she mused. It did have some appeal, then.

“I’ll pass, thank you,” she simply replied. Blinky held up his hands.

“It was simply a suggestion,” he said mildy. “But we will press on. You worry about bonding with the amulet – AAARRRGGHH and I will find a suitable dwelling.”
She nodded her thanks and they departed ways, Blinky and AAARRRGGHH walking out of one of the arena’s back entrances while Alexandra went back over the bridge. She knew exactly where she wanted to go.

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

"Roots of the weed sucked first life from the genesis of earth and hold the essence of it still. Always the weed returns; the cultured plant retreats before it."

- Beryl Markham

Warning: Alexandra has a very foul mouth.

The trolls in the market didn’t bother Alexandra as she walked through them. She made eye contact with some, nodded to a few, and even found a few smiles aimed to her, but no one stepped on her path, and no one spoke. She understood that it was a time of mourning; they were feeling the loss of a trusted figure just as they were curiosity over a new one. She didn’t take offense at the lack of conversation at all; what she wanted was silence, and a chance to be alone with her thoughts.

Eventually she walked until a warm glow encompassed her body, and she looked up to the enormous crystal that fed life into the caverns. She couldn’t tell if it actually was alive or not – was the hum in her blood louder, a greeting? Or was she only imagining it?

She nodded to it, just in case. Surely something that gave life to thousands of people had to have one of its own.

There was a bridge that led to the Heartstone; picking her way along the edge of the cavern, she deliberately focused more on her thoughts than her surroundings.

She had been Changed and switched to serve as a watcher, a gatherer of detailed information. Her human family had sailed from Wales to New Jersey shortly after her ‘birth’; she had been swapped for their child for the purpose of following the trolls across the sea, finding their trails and watching all of those, both troll and Changeling, who came to the new world. Her job had been to observe; she couldn’t help but notice people, details, sounds and smells, but everything was filed away in favor of thoughts and emotions. Her job ended with the death of her familiar in 1964. As far as anyone knew, she – Verity, Petra, Leta – was dead as well.

As far as new beginnings went, Trollhunter wasn’t too bad a start.

But therein lay the problem, didn’t it? A Changeling as a Trollhunter? Changelings were known to be capricious, unpredictable, self-serving, and malicious. Their very existence was a lie; everything they were was a lie.

Whoever had decided to swap the whelp Alexandra for a Quaker baby clearly had not thought it through. Alexandra’s community, her third childhood, was steeped in the values of honesty and integrity. For her very nature to be so dishonest still rankled at her.

The thrum of the Heartstone grew louder in her bones as she drew closer to it, slowly strolling through the market until she reached the bridge. There were no signs, no indications that the Heartstone was forbidden, and so she stepped onto the bridge, half expecting it to crumble beneath her feet.

Why did the Heartstone feel so warm to her? She would have expected something like the Heartstone to reject her outright. She was no longer one of its hearts – a child taken and changed into a weaving of abominations – but the hum was steady, and the light was warm. She didn’t enter the hollow center of the crystal but put a hand to the glowing mass. It, and her amulet, pulsed once.

“You seem conflicted, Trollhunter. I trust that the training session was a success.”

Alexandra didn’t turn around. She’d heard Vendel’s soft footsteps before he’d appeared from the hollow of the crystal.

It was a loaded question, and deserved an equally loaded answer. Vendel appeared to have enough power that Draal sought his help and Blinky retreated before his gaze. If she lied, he might find out later and think her cowardly, but if she told the truth he may think her weak, for what kind of Trollhunter couldn’t even summon their own armor?

Option three it was.

“I’ve never seen one of these,” she said quietly, laying her lower right palm flat on the Heartstone. The glow was powerful enough that she could see the dim outlines of her finger bones; only four on the top pair of hands, as was usual for trolls, but she had five on the bottom.

For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command, she thought in experiment. Nothing happened except a faint blue pulse from her pocket.

Vendel noticed in spite of the spiderwebs in his eyes.

“Our Heartstones can answer many questions, young Trollhunter – but not that one. The crystal is a binding force, a sort of soul magic, and it is no more or less connected to yours than to mine. It will not answer your questions simply because you are the new Hunter.”
His assumption mildly surprised her.

“That wasn’t why I came here,” she murmured. Vendel looked up at the crystal’s towering height; she wondered what his glassy eyes could see that hers could not.

“For someone to grow away from a Heartstone is almost unthinkable,” he mused, almost to himself. “They are what connect us to each other in the darkness of the underground, they are what make us whole.”

“It could have been worse.”
Yes, I could have gotten eaten.

“Hmmm. Even if this is not your original Heartstone, it can still be yours, just as much as you, apparently, now belong to it.”

“It would take me in that fast?”
“The Heartstone takes in all sorts, Trollhunter, and from many places. You should hardly be a burden to it.”

Alexandra looked back at the Heartstone and wished she was alone. She hadn’t felt that kind of acceptance, that unity, in decades. But the Heartstone had to know that she was one of its twisted children, one of the changed – and still the thrum was steady.

Alexandra’s hand started to shake and she removed it from the crystal before Vendel could notice.

“I suppose I should get back to work on this amulet.”

“Hmph. I should certainly hope so. A Trollhunter with no command of the amulet is a poor one indeed!”

“You’ve never encountered any other with this trouble?”

Vendel raised an eyebrow at her.

“Trollhunters have had trouble finding their power before, whether it was because of doubt or fear. But there is only so much that you can learn from the warmth and the life of the Heartstone, daughter of Asphodelus.”

Alexandra took a chance and asked,
“Is it a requirement for you to be vague and ambiguous?”

“Do I look like your trainer? I thought not. If you want definite answers, I suggest you find Blinkous. Or perhaps his library,” said Vendel. He clasped his hands behind him and turned, walking back into the hollow of the crystal.

“Either way, get to it.”

When Blinky and AAARRRGGHH found her again, she was ass-deep in a little fortress she’d built out of the piles of books she wanted to read out of Blinky’s library.

“Vendel suggested I get some research done,” she said defensively when they entered the room. She’d hadn’t been sure at first about whether or not she actually had permission to use the library and so had loitered outside the entrance until another troll came in and browsed a book. For a personal collection the number of texts was staggering. There were books piled up higher than her head, precarious walls of tomes, tables almost hidden underneath scrolls and texts, and little piles where people had come and gone and just left their books around. The disorganization was immensely bothersome and Alexandra found herself clearing up little areas here and there, although she honestly couldn’t comment on the mess when she ended up sitting on the floor with a pile of almost thirty books hiding her from the rest of the room.

And it was all about trolls.

History, folklore, physiology, music, art, culture, food – epics, romances, poems, novels, journals, and one extremely raunchy diary. Half of the books were original editions and the other half seemed to be rare volumes that Alexandra doubted she could find in any other library or collection.

The Darklands hadn’t possessed much in the way of reading material (although there had been one soldier who liked to compose dark romance poetry). When she was still in the Janus Order she hadn’t been highly ranked enough to be able to acquire one of the rare troll or Gumm-Gumm texts that Stricklander hoarded.

“Ah, I see you’ve found Brynhilde’s History of the Heartstone.”
Yes, she had, and Alexandra was taking notes. The moment she’d entered the library she’d loaded all four of her arms up and started reading. The amulet was surprisingly helpful when it came to translating the more obscure dialects of Trollish and, very slowly, she was practicing writing with her second right hand.

“My apologies if I made a mess.”
A pile of books fell in a gentle cascade as AAARRRGGHH accidentally brushed them. Blinky didn’t even move.

“Think nothing of it,” he said dryly. “I’m simply glad to have recovered you. I believe we have found you a place to stay.”
So have I, Alexandra thought. She grabbed the books nearest to her and stood.

“Do you mind if I borrow these?”
Blinky’s eyes lit as he grinned.

“Oh course not!” he said. “Take whichever you like. I do have a few suggestions, though – “

He bustled around the room, snatching books from various tables and shelves. Alexandra’s arms were soon loaded down, and AAARRRGGHH had to come to her rescue and take a handful from her.

“Now there’s one that I really must insist you read, it’s…where did…oh. I see you have it already.”
The book was carefully extracted from the bottom of the fortress and dropped onto AAARRRGGHH’s pile.

“A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore,” he said proudly. “Volume one of forty-seven.”

Navigating Trollmarket was a little more difficult when Alexandra’s arms were stacked with books, but she made it alright as long as she stayed in AAARRRGGHH’s wake. Blinky led them out of the main marketplace and along the edges of the Heartstone’s cavern until they turned into a wide passageway cut into the rock. Alexandra couldn’t help but marvel at the geological variety of Trollmarket – if she were a geologist she’d probably have pissed herself by now. As it was, even the carved corridor they were in was gorgeous, a mundane hallway speckled with tiny shining crystals. They emerged onto a sort of courtyard on the opposite side of the Heartstone from Trollmarket. All around them towered the vast walls of the cave, and carved into the walls were hundreds upon hundreds of homes; doors and stairs cut straight into the rock, balconies jutting out at random and a thousand glowing windows dotting the cave like stars.

The further they moved in, the more Alexandra wondered if this was a bad idea. Perhaps she should have stated that she already had a home, or specified the desire to live on the edges of or even outside of Trollmarket. It would be extremely difficult to do anything without having someone watching where she went.

Blinky, oblivious to her worries, kept on. He and AAARRRGGHH would occasionally converse, but they left Alexandra to her thoughts, and she was grateful.

She’d have to uproot and disappear from her human life, most probably. ‘Trollhunter’ was a full-time responsibility; she wouldn’t be able to keep her job in the shop. She’d have to delete her human identity, again – going back and forth to and from the surface daily would be extremely suspicious. Her storage unit was rented for six more months; surely in that time she would find something to do with her stuff, or would think of a way to keep some semblance of a human life, even if she only went to the surface occasionally.

Her musing ended when AAARRRGGHH and Blinky stopped walking, and Alexandra saw exactly where they had placed her.

It wasn’t completely isolated, but it was in a significantly less crowded area. There was only one door for a long stretch of rock, and just a single staircase leading to it. The windows of the sparse neighbors were far enough away that she could probably transform now, and not be seen.

“A Trollhunter requires significant privacy and quiet,” said Blinky. He was smiling at Alexandra, and she knew that he had read her like a book.

“How can I pay for this?”

“Your services are all that are needed,” replied Blinky, which Alexandra took to meaning ‘do everything we tell you to do’. If it got her a private space, it was worth it.

AAARRRGGHH dropped off her books, and with a promise to begin training again the next evening, they left her to herself.

The dwelling was only two rooms, spacious enough that she didn’t feel claustrophobic, but very sparse and rather small. The main room consisted of a bed that was a low slab of rock covered in leather and fur sheets, and there was a single table and stool, with shelving carved into the walls. The small bathroom didn’t have a shower or tub, but Alexandra had noticed public baths among the residential areas. All in all, it wasn’t much, but she’d slept in much worse in the Darklands, not to even mention the 1970’s. It was private, quiet, and it suited her well. The crystals embedded into the stone walls and ceiling were a very calming pink and blue, and when she looked out of her single window the entirety of the Heartstone bathed her face in light.

She put her books away as well as she could and sat in the middle of the open floor. She had planned to research the amulet and history of the Trollhunters further, but she knew that if she settled into a research project now she wouldn’t emerge until someone came to check that she was alive, and the whole amulet problem was a glaring failing that needed to be rectified as soon as possible.

Alright, you f*cker, she thought, rolling the amulet through her fingers.

It was warm to the touch; she’d had it in her pocket all day but she knew that the metal was alive somehow. The engravings changed as she looked at it; first in English, then in runes, then Trollish, and then back to Old English. It was connected to its Hunter by some kind of soul magic, she knew – it fed into the background magic that was in her body and so was able to read her emotions and mental commands.

Do the thing.

But just because it could read them, didn’t mean that it followed. The amulet pulsed, and Alexandra gave it a gentle swat.

I will toss you out the window. Now. For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command!

Nothing.

“For the glory of Merlin,” Alexandra said through her teeth. “Daylight is mine to command!”
To her left, the glow of the Heartstone caught her eye. She felt its warmth, and the gentle pulse of its hearts, and she was one of them.

She was a Changeling, and the amulet chose her. It and the Heartstone had yet to find her as repulsive as everyone else who knew her nature, and she refused to question them. Her old doubts and fears, never too far from her heart, tried to surface and she knew they were holding her back. But she had committed to this thing; as the amulet was with her to her death and beyond, so she was with it. She had two of the most powerful magical objects in the world at her back, and she absolutely refused to let her own doubts come in the way of the responsibility she had miraculously been given.

For the Glory of Merlin, you motherf*cking co*ckwhistle, Daylight is mine to command!

Blue balls of magic soared out of the amulet and vanished into her chest.

“What the fu-“

A swirling sphere of magic lifted her off the floor, pulsing with her heartbeat. Armor materialized around her and she felt it, felt every piece, every carving, every joint.

Then everything collapsed, and she crashed back onto the floor and stumbled onto her hands.

It was enormous! How the f*ck was she…

…Oh. It shrank. She should have thought of that.

The armor fitted itself to her body, making extra gauntlets for her second pair of arms. Everything fit perfectly; she found out with a few stretches that it was not restrictive, and it seemed to move with her, expanding and shrinking with every breath and twist. As she flexed her hands more glowing balls shot into them, and then a sword so heavy it sprained her wrist appeared in her hand. Alexandra dropped the sword and it collapsed in on itself until she could pick it up with minimal strain.

She juggled the sword between her remaining hands for a little bit and paused when she saw her reflection. Brightened by the light of the Heartstone, her face glowed with triumph, and she briefly allowed her eyes to shine as she grinned at her reflection.

f*ck, yes!

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

"A weed is a plant that has mastered every survival skill except for learning how to grow in rows." - Doug Larson

By the time Blinky and AAARRRGGHH found Alexandra again, she was in the Hero’s Forge halfway through a battle text, swiping at the air with her new sword in mimicry of the illustrations in the book. Her arms and her patience were dead.

“Ah, good evening, Master Alexandra! I see that you have mastered your armor,” Blinky said with a wide grin. Alexandra relaxed her arms and smiled back, though it probably came off as more of a pained grimace.

She was extremely sore, not least from never having held anything more deadly than a fencing sword before. Her troll form was ill-used and out of practice, and she’d never been in the best of shape to begin with. Her job had been watcher, after all, not fighter.

Blinky took her grimace as an answer and immediately shooed AAARRRGGHH from the Forge’s floor, practically jogging for the button that turned on the death-traps.

“I suppose that now is as good a time as any to continue your training! I trust that you are well rested for the day?”

“Sure,” Alexandra lied.

She wasn’t, because she had spent all night summoning and dismissing the armor, the sword, and the individual pieces. Because trolls had vastly different routines than humans, she couldn’t sleep yet. To start changing her sleep patterns she couldn’t rest until the following morning, which was almost twelve hours away. She felt like killing something.

Fortunately, she could now summon the sword with a thought, something that Blinky took notice of and immediately latched onto.

He fired a swatch of arrows at her. She gasped, shielded herself with her sword and gauntlets, and quickly ran to another part of the arena.

“Rule Number One,” his voice boomed, echoing in the chamber amid the crashing of Alexandra’s armor.

“Always be afraid!”
What the f*ck kind of rule is that, Alexandra thought, skidding to a halt just before a huge spike landed on the floor in front of her.

“Fear makes you wary! It heightens your reflexes and keeps you alert for any potential danger!”

Ah. Well, she was a Changeling living underground with over a thousand Changeling-hating trolls, with only a suit of armor to protect her from both her neighbors and the gigantic stone blades of the Death Arena.

“Yeah I don’t think that’s going to be a hard rule to – sh*t!”

An arrow came out of nowhere and struck Alexandra in the back. Her breastplate protected her, but she still got the breath knocked out of her lungs.

“Focus, Master Alexandra,” said Blinky from the sidelines.

On what?! The fifty arrows or the twenty unexpected blades?

It wasn’t long before she was out of breath and shaking. She’d never been particularly athletic and her troll form hadn’t gotten much use in the last decade. The Death Arena was clearly built for people who were quick and alert – and although Alexandra was both, putting both attributes into actual physical activity was hard.

Blinky finally slowed the arena down when she stumbled, although he still shot a burst of fire at her chest. She rolled out of the way, landed on her back, and stayed down.

He stopped the arena with a chuckle and walked over to her. Alexandra tried to catch her breath as he smiled understandingly and held out a hand to help her up.

The gesture did not go unmissed, although Alexandra hesitated. She didn’t want to get to emotionally involved with anyone in Trollmarket, to avoid the inevitable heartbreak when her true nature came to light – but at the same time, having actual friends would be better, in the long run, than mere allies.

Alex took the hand and allowed him to pull her halfway, until she was leaning on her elbows.

“We couldn’t have started a little easier?”
Blinky shook his head with toothy grin.

“Master Alexandra, that was the easiest level,” he said, as she had suspected.

She dropped back to the floor. Excellent.

By the time they stopped to eat, she honestly thought she was going to die, her adrenalin was pumping so hard. She waved away the offer to eat, knowing that if she stopped it would be damn near impossible for her to get going again. AAARRRGGHH left and came back with small meals for himself and Blinky, who directed her in basic forms and stances as well as the rules of fighting as he ate.

“Rule number two, for Trollhunters,” he said between bites. “Always finish the fight!”

Alex grimaced, but moved to the next stance in the sequence she was practicing. Changelings didn’t get too squeamish about killing people – it was a necessary part of the job. You had to keep people quiet, you had to get people out of the way, and if anybody saw you, if anybody knew, they had to be removed. It scraped against the more peaceful learnings of her human upbringing, but it was necessary for survival. Sometimes you just had to kill a meddlesome bastard, and there was no reason to get wimpy about it.

“Master Alexandra,” said Blinky, a tad chidingly. “Perhaps you would do well to remember that you have more than one set of hands…”

sh*t. Alexandra moved her second pair of arms into a defense position, where previously they had been hanging by her sides. Blinky nodded in approval, munching down on something that smelled tantalizing to her troll nose but nauseating to her human senses.

Alex sliced her sword in front of her, backing up from an imaginary opponent as she tried to draw on the fencing lessons she’d taken in the 1870’s. Her arms trembled, and in her tired-yet-pumped state she started to feel a bit cranky. She had to consciously remember to move her lower arms again, and wished for something to slice at.

And look, there was Draal!

Blinky looked more than a little displeased at his appearance, but Alexandra was hyped. She hadn’t gotten into a fight since 1983, and her exhaustion was pushing her to the edge.

“So the training begins,” Draal began, sauntering across the narrow bridge on his short little legs. “I had hoped I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Er, yes – good morning, Draal,” said Blinky, shuffling nervously. Beside him, AAARRRGGHH drew himself up a little. Draal huffed at him.

Blinky quickly swallowed the leavings of his meal and walked toward Alex, though she wasn’t sure exactly what he was planning on doing. It was clear that he was wary of the larger troll, and the idea of Blinky – armor-less, short, and clearly not a warrior – coming to Alexandra’s defense was both ridiculous and endearing.

A soft thud vibrated the stone behind the both of them and then Alexandra understood. AAARRRGGHH’s breath ruffled her short hair as he silently backed up his bookish friend.

Draal did not look impressed.

“I was just coming to see how our new Trollhunter was getting along,” he said, grinning like a jackal. Alexandra deliberately loosed her grip on her sword and fell into a relaxed stance.

“Just fine, thank you,” she said sweetly. Draal sneered at her.

“I don’t doubt it,” he said, drawing up from his habitual slouch so that his face was finally higher than hers. “But every warrior needs improvement, which is why I came to offer my services.”
He gave a sh*tty little bow.

“As a sparring partner.”

What an asshole.

She couldn’t very well refuse, and by the look in Draal’s eyes, he knew it. She wasn’t much of a fighter and sending him away would be both foolish and disrespectful.

A soft footstep and the distant jangle of gemstones made her look up; Vendel was watching them from a balcony.

Blinky kind of grimaced when she turned an eye on him, and he and AAARRRGGHH backed out of the ring.

Alex tapped her sword against the ground.

“I’d be delighted,” she snarled at Draal.

His fist – larger than her entire head – hit her in the chest and sent her reeling back almost twenty feet, immediately.

She sucked in a desperate measure of air and rolled, just a second before Draal ducked into a roll, a giant ball of blue spikes landing where she had fallen. A foot glanced against her thigh and made her stumble, only catching herself when she remembered she had an extra set of arms to help.

Draal was on her before she could get up, but she was ready this time, and she elbowed him in the face and neck simultaneously. He fell back, gasping for air, and she got a second to really stand up, her mind working furiously.

Armored skin, softer on the undersides, blind spot on back, vulnerable eyes, throat, groin, attack from behind or below. Fast as f*ck!

Putting her observations into practice was a little more difficult, especially since it had been decades since she’d actually been in a real fight, and over a century since she’d fought in troll form.

It helped that she was pissed, though. She flailed at him with all three clawed fists and a sword, and kicked him in the crotch in order to get behind him and catch her breath. If she was in human form she could have just grabbed onto those crystal projections on his back and held on until he got exasperated and left, but her troll form was too heavy.

As it was, she stepped on something and a blade shot up out of the floor, drawing Draal’s attention to that he twirled around. A hard, crystal-covered elbow smashed into her breastplate, making a tremendous flash of blue light as the armor worked to protect her. Alexandra took advantage of a temporarily stunned Draal and sliced at him with the sword, catching him on the top of his arm as he blocked. A tiny scratch appeared and instantly turned grey and hard.

Draal and Alexandra’s eyes widened; if she’d hit harder, he would have lost the arm. It wasn’t called the Sword of Daylight for nothing.

She almost apologized, but a two-and-a-half-foot fist nearly smashed her face in and she heartily reconsidered. She grabbed the arm and turned, unbalancing Draal’s legs until he semi-tumbled over her shoulder. Given the sheer size differences between them, it really was not an effective move, but it surprised him enough that Alex could get out of the way when he rolled and came back up swinging.

Damn, but he was fast!

He was much faster than her, anyway, and she knew she’d be suffering when the rush of the fight faded.

The armor sang and glowed when she got caught in the chest again, and Draal didn’t move to hit her when she shakily got to her feet.

To her surprise, there was some sort of smile on his broad face.

“Not as disappointing as I thought,” he said, as if that was some sort of compliment. Alexandra glared at him, and cut a glance up at Vendel, who had watched in complete silence.

He gave no indication that he was pleased or upset, but he gave her a tiny little nod before he turned and left the balcony.

A brief throat-clearing from Blinky told Alexandra that he had seen it too.

“Er, perhaps that is enough practical training for today,” he said quickly, hovering on the edge of the arena. “We can get started on the studies of the Trollhunter and perhaps some lore you are not familiar with, Master Alexandra – “
“But we’ve only warmed up,” said Draal, with a sh*t-eater’s grin at Alex. She sheathed her sword with a snarl.

“See you tomorrow, Draal,” she said firmly. “Thanks for the spar.”

“Anytime I can help, Trollhunter,” Draal said, sounding almost polite. Alex didn’t dismiss the armor until she’d ushered Blinky and AAARRRGGHH into a corridor away from the arena, and only allowed herself to sink against the wall when they were in a darker area.

That f*cker, she thought, leaning her head against her arms. The adrenalin from the training and the spar was swiftly being replaced with complete and utter exhaustion. Draal had analyzed her just as she did him, and he’d hit where it hurt. Her armorless hips and less-protected lower arms had taken the worst blows, though she’d been struck in the chest the most. She knew she was going to have bad bruising at the least, and her sword arm was feeling stiff, the elbow catching unpleasantly. Her knees and backside had taken damage from all the times she’d been pushed down, and her head ran from the clanging in her helmet.

Tomorrow was going to suck.

She must have looked incredibly pitiful, because Blinky let her go with only a small reading assignment and brief visit to a medicine and a food booth.

The trip back to her small cave felt like a Walk of Shame, with one of her arms held carefully, another laden with herbs and some sort of pulsing crystal, and a distinct limp in her hip. Her murderous look prevented anybody from coming and talking to her, and she absently munched on whatever it was Blinky had bought her to eat. Some sort of mushroom, it looked like.

On the very edge of the market area there was a bit of a commotion; it looked like someone had lost something. Trolls here and there were bending down to glance under stalls and peering in crevices, all the while calling, in ridiculously high voices, ‘here kitty kitty’.

She gingerly stepped through the crowd, but an absent elbow caught her back and made her stumble. She bumped into a pile of crates and a furry blur shot out, clawed its way up her leg, and buried its face into her herb-laden arm.

The troll who’d bumped her politely apologized and went back to searching for the obviously escaped cat. Alex limped away in a hurry.

She got lost, briefly, but finally found her little cave and dumped her packages and the cat on the pile of leathers that was her bed.

The cat, a plump black thing with a white chest, scooted its nose underneath a fur blanket and mraowed.

f*ck it, I’ve got a cat, Alex thought. She was too tired and sore to deal with this now. The cat and the herbs were unceremoniously shoved to one side of the nest, and she fell asleep immediately.

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

“But what attracted me to weeds was not their beauty, but their resilience. I mean, despite being so widely despised, so unloved, killed with every chance we get, they are so pervasive, so seemingly invincible.”

― Carol Vorvain

The smell woke Alexandra, and then the pain. Within the first moment of awakening she discovered that she could not move, at all. Her limbs were heavy and stiff, her first right elbow was on fire, and the clanging in her ears matched with the pulsing of an unpleasant headache.

It only got worse from there.

Inching her head to the right, there was a lovely pile of cat leavings. Her nose, sensitive in troll form, was assaulted again with the smell and she turned her head away.

The cat was perched on her chest, apparently very happy with itself.

I regret saving you, she thought at it. I should eat you myself.

Alexandra shook just enough to set her torso on fire and send the cat tumbling to the floor. She ignored its glares and took a careful look around the room, and then shifted to her human body.

The pain was the same, but she was in a body that she was accustomed to and had slightly more practical proportions. On her human skin the bruises were significantly more evident, and her elbow was swollen and reddish.

More than anything Alexandra wanted a hot shower, but the baths were public and both down the stairs and down the hall, which was more effort than she was prepared to take at the moment. Carefully, her arms extended until she was sitting somewhat upright – damn, even breathing was painful.

The light of the Heartstone shone on her face through the lone window, as if peeking in to ask if she was okay. Imaginary or not, just knowing the Heartstone was there and that a part of its beat was her own pulse made her feel…if not better, then marginally comforted.

The moment of sitting up shifted the leather covers, and a package fell off the nest.

Oh. She’d forgotten to take the medicines Blinky had bought for her.

Vague instructions filtered through her pounding head and she slowly opened the package, chewing on a wad of herbs to form a paste for her bruises and swallowing whole some others. There was a tiny crystal, bright yellow, that pulsed with her heartbeat when she picked it up, and the pain in her ribs and elbow decreased when she moved the crystal’s light across them.

The cat lost interest in her three minutes in, and slept through the next forty that it took for the medicines to work enough for Alex to stand up and shift back.

She honestly had no idea what time it was; trolls kept different times than humans, given their long lifespans and underground habits. It could be the middle of the day for all she knew, but as Blinky and AAARRRGGHH hadn’t broken down the door for another training session, it couldn’t be that late.

She shut the cat in the room and hobbled down to the baths, where she spent the next hour or so soaking the aches out of her muscles. Whatever time it was, the halls were empty, a gentle susurrus of distant voices echoing from the markets on the other side of the Heartstone.

The baths were actually really nice. They weren’t anything but sunken pools in round rooms with high walls, made of some smooth, dark stone, but the atmosphere was very peaceful and quiet, the darkness comforting. The water was fed from an underground spring somewhere; the baths themselves were merely openings in the floor over a softly-flowing river, metal grates over the ends to prevent anyone from being washed away. The water was warm, very warm, and smelled thick and metallic and slightly sulfuric, but to her sore body it was the most wonderful thing she’d ever felt.

Her headache dwindled down to a soft annoyance, and Alexandra went over her agenda for the next while.

She was going to avoid the physical training for as long as she could, which would give her time and excuse to really study the books she’d borrowed. Blinky clearly wanted her to learn the history of Trollhunters as well as the actual practice, which was more than fine with her, so as soon as she could drag herself out of the bath she’d get started on reading. Alexandra also wanted to explore more of Trollmarket and its surrounding areas, and perhaps make another visit to the Heartstone.

At some point in time she’d have to go upstairs and fetch Kanjigar’s body, the logistics of which were not on the table for analysis at the moment. It was going to be difficult and complicated, and she really didn’t want to think about it now.

Her time in the baths was cut shorter than she really wanted when the enormous face of AAARRRGGHH peered around the corner of the door and smiled at her.

“Found you,” he rumbled. He couldn’t easily fit his body through the doorway but he managed an arm and tapped it on the wall.

“Blinky says time for training.”

“Tell Blinky I’m too sore,” Alexandra mumbled. AAARRRGGHH gave her a look that clearly said, But did you die?

She grumbled and shook the water off her arms, pulling on her skirt as she climbed out of the water. She’d have to get some different clothes if she was going to be in troll form for a long time. Her shawl and sarong were over fifty years old and had survived both her hippie days and the year she spent underground detoxing from all the crap she took in the seventies, and were practically disintegrating. She followed AAARRRGGHH out of the bath, trailing water as she fussed over the fabric.

Changelings were image-conscious in nature, from both necessity and preference. Whatever or whoever they were masquerading as required thought in presentation, and as a group they regularly tried to upstage each other with how well put-together and convincing they made their disguises. Stricklander had always gone for the distinguished look, Nomura pinks and violets and sharp corners. Some of her fellows cloaked themselves in normality and anonymity, while others used rebellious looks and outlandish styles to distract and distance.

Alexandra had been a blend-in-er until 1968, when she went off the grid and needed to disguise herself more from other Changelings than from the humans surrounding her. She’d cut her hair, dyed it, gone crazy with the piercings and makeup and clothing until she wasn’t a face or a voice but a swath of purple hair, or an assortment of jeweled glasses and earrings. She’d bumped into Nomura only two weeks after moving to Arcadia, had knocked a file and book out of the Changeling’s hands, and in the two-minute conversation following the other woman had not once recognized her. She’d been a pair of hornrims and a messy bun, not a familiar face.

So she knew that she’d have to get new digs. A Trollhunter couldn’t be walking around in a shawl and frayed sarong. Trolls weren’t exactly the best when it came to fashion – clothing was more a consideration than anything else; hell, some trolls like AAARRRGGHH didn’t even need to bother – but even to trolls appearance mattered, and that was a language that Alex was fluent in.

AAARRRGGHH, to Alexandra’s immense relief, led her to past the entrance to the Hero’s Forge and onward to Blinky’s library, which was just as messy as it had been the day before. Blinky was organizing a stack of books on a table when they entered, and he shooed out another troll to give them some room.

“Ah! I see AAARRRGGHH found you,” he said, happily hugging a book to his chest. “Excellent. I believe we shall get started on the other half of your training today, which is just as if not more important than the physical work.”

He held up the book with a dramatic and yet completely genuine gesture, but Alex saw the look in his eyes. She took his words to meaning, I know you’re half dead so I’ll have pity and give you a cheat day.

AAARRRGGHH shook some books around and made himself in a little nest to sit in. Blinky carried a chair over and Alexandra gratefully sank down on it.

“Do you mind if I take some notes,” she asked as Blinky made to seat himself. He looked over the top of the book he’d been about to open, and grinned at her.

“Master Alexandra,” he said, and handed her a pen and paper. “I do believe you are my favorite Trollhunter this century!”

The Changeling smiled. Just you wait.

The study session actually became a bit more hectic than Blinky had initially planned, given that most of the books he wanted to explore were in Master Alexandra’s room. Despite her undoubtedly aching body, the woman went and retrieved them herself, even stopping to get them all something to eat on the way back. Blinky elected to eat later, when they were not in his library, but the thought was very sweet.

He liked someone who was enthusiastic to learn. AAARRRGGHH was his favorite student and reading buddy; Blinky loved to read aloud, and AAARRRGGHH loved to listen to him, absorbing whatever text Blinky had decided to devour that day. As far as Trollhunters went, there was always decent chance that he would be receiving a new pupil in the fascinating history of trolls and troll lore. The Trollhunter was never just a warrior, but a protector – of people, of their homes, and of their culture and knowledge as well. Kanjigar the Courageous, may the Heartstone ever receive him, had spent many a day sifting through Blinky’s personal library, even going so far as to acquire a sizable collection of his own, though he only rarely sought Blinky’s scholarly counsel. That the current Trollhunter was so extremely eager to fill in the gaps in her knowledge was truly exciting.

Blinky mused about the new Hunter while she was gone. He and AAARRRGGHH had chatted several times over the past day on the subject, but it was still a fresh topic, and one that he didn’t know much about. He might never have been a warrior, but he’d survived through a war and the devastating aftermath by being observant and quick-thinking. As far as trolls went, odd was a rather common trait, but Alexandra was odd in odd ways.

Her appearance, for one, was startling. As a member of the sister tribe to Blinky’s, she was unusually rough-looking, even for a female. While their women had always been the brawnier ones, Alexandra was taller, sharper, and would have been even menacing if not for her softer eyes. She was completely devoid of tattoos, which was just unheard of; did her family completely lack in culture? Did she have no family? And why was she nearly dressed in rags? Trolls – who didn’t sweat, didn’t shed skin cells like humans – rarely had more than one thing to wear, made of durable materials. The woman was dressed in something thin and ragged, and he wanted to know what exactly had happened to her in the past years. Whatever it was, she clearly had not been properly cared for.

He knew that trolls – and much of everything else – from New Jersey were often strange, but the poor girl had never even grown up with a Heartstone, which was almost unthinkable to Blinky. No wonder the troll was so odd.

He’d had to remind her to use her second pair of arms more than once, as if she forgot they were there. Perhaps she had suffered injuries to them, he’d wondered. And she hardly ever moved her eyes independently, even when it would have been more convenient. Her lower jaw stretched and shifted, as if she was uncomfortable with her own mouth, a tic that Blinky doubted Alexandra noticed. She held herself proudly, tall and unyielding, but there wasn’t much that Blinky’s gaze missed, and Alexandra’s tight eyes betrayed her. She was terrified, and she was very good at hiding it.

He didn’t know how old the woman was, or her family history, or even why she had ventured to Arcadia.

The only things he truly knew were things that he had observed; her love of books, her practice with the sword, her discomfort with crowds, and the way she had been drawn to the Heartstone. These things told him more about her than her family history, true, but he still craved the facts and the why’s and the what’s.

And there was that worrying little situation with Kanjigar…

Alexandra returned with his books, her injured arm empty, and struggled to take notes with her other three hands. Not that Blinky himself was perfectly multidextrous, but even his clan’s children could write with two hands at least; Alexandra had trouble even holding the pen.

But she absorbed everything he told her like an enormous teal sponge, and scratched down whatever piqued her interest, which apparently everything.

They spent that second day covering the origin and development of the Trollhunter line and the responsibilities involved, with side-quests into the economics of Heartstone Trollmarket itself and studies of heartstones and other crystals.

What was the word humans used? Ah. Bullsh*t. Alexandra bullsh*t well. She had a perfect blank face that she wore when she learned something new, and she wore it so often that Blinky began adding ‘of course’ and ‘naturally’ and ‘as you know’ to parts of his lectures that were common knowledge for every troll, just to see how many things she truly was ignorant about. He was shocked at the result. The poor girl didn’t know anything.

She didn’t know the healing properties of Heartstones. She didn’t know how trolls were made.

In fact, the only thing she seemed familiar with was the history and culture of the Darklands, which was…concerning, in the least.

The amulet would never have chosen a Gumm-Gumm, Blinky thought quickly, with an apologetic glance to his friend, who was happily sleeping on his nest of books.

Not…probably.

If she was a reformed Gumm-Gumm, like AAARRRGGHH, wouldn’t they have heard of her before? All of Gunmar’s horde was trapped in the Darklands, completely unable to escape. She would have had to left the Darklands before the bridge was dismantled, and she didn’t look nearly old enough.

The hypothesis partially explained her wilder appearance, but not completely. Gumm-Gumms were famous for being enormous, immensely bulky warriors, and Alexandra was…not. Blinky’s clans were not particularly prone to developing warriors, even though they’d had a Trollhunter chosen from their numbers. But Alexandra, though she was fast and had surprisingly good form with a sword, was clearly unused to fighting and was out of shape. Even after several centuries, AAARRRGGHH was still marked with his Gum-Gumm carvings and built up in muscle.

No, Alexandra was not a Gumm-Gumm.

By the end of the day, Blinky had more questions than when he had started, and a headache starting to build. AAARRRGGHH was fast asleep and Alexandra looked about ready to follow him, though she was still diligently jotting down everything he said in her sad little goblin-scratch. She was chewing absently on her pen, the second he’d had to offer her.

Blinky gently closed the tenth book they had explored and set it down with the others, watching the Trollhunter turn the paper to write in the margins.

“Is it terribly late,” she murmured.

“Not too terribly,” Blinky replied.

“AAARRRGGHH fell asleep,” Alexandra said with the ghost of a smile.

“Mmm. Yes. And right in the middle of my reading about the barter systems of the various markets. Economics always make him sleepy.”
“I imagine the hero of Killahead would have little use for them. I noticed that a few stalls offered him free wares yesterday.”
There! There, that was it! She knew about AAARRRGGHH’s history, but didn’t know about the migrations?

“AAARRRGGHH is rather too modest about his role in the battle,” Blinky said softly, looking over at his friend. “He rarely likes to reminisce on the darker edges of his past.”

Alexandra did her blank face, looking as if she was holding back from commenting. Blinky felt a brief stab of protectiveness before he realized that her eyes were sad, not accusing.

The Trollhunter nodded and stood, stretching her back and legs before gathering up her notes. Blinky noticed that she was moving much more smoothly than she had at the beginning of the day.

“Do you need any more medicine?”
Alexandra looked up, surprised, and smiled at him.

“I’ll be fine, I think. I just…needed time.”

The medicines must have worked extraordinarily well, Blinky thought, if she’s healed so well, so quickly.

They parted ways with silent goodbyes. Blinky waited until Alexandra was out of sight before dancing over the books scattered on his floor and digging through a shelf in the far corner, where his brother had kept clan histories and genealogies.

“Daughter of Asphodelus,” he muttered to himself, pulling out the registers for his clan and its sister tribe. He waded back through the mess and shooed a few tomes out of the way before leaning against AAARRRGGHH’s back and settling down for a long and nostalgic read.

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

"Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them."

- A. A. Milne, Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh

* Language and bloody violence warning *

For the residents of Trollmarket, the excitement and gossip of a new Trollhunter faded a bit in that first week, but for Blinky the challenge of a new trainee was still fresh and new every day.

He was rather enjoying doing the complete training, as he had with Unkar. Blinky hadn’t begun training Trollhunters in anything other than lore until the previous trainer had been eaten by a goblin horde. His aptitude for the job was negligible; poor Unkar had proven that. But he’d studied up and trained Kanjigar well…although it certainly had helped that Kanjigar had already been a formidable warrior prior to being chosen as Hunter.

Alexandra was entertaining to train. She pushed herself past the previous day’s limits every session she had, but when she was finished, she was finished, and nothing short of AAARRRGGHH physically lifting her off the floor and chasing her around the arena could get her started again.

The rules of engagement were followed to the letter; even Kanjigar had struggled with rules two and three, the latter seeming to be Alexandra’s favorite. She certainly used it on Draal a lot.

Draal, really, was another matter. His hatred of Alexandra had waned to a mere dislike, and Blinky knew that Draal appreciated the way that Alexandra would charge at him, screaming like a banshee and hacking at everything she could reach, whenever he deliberately pushed her too far. It seemed to provide a much-needed outlet for both of them, because they often got something to eat afterward and were reasonably amicable for the rest of the day.

Alexandra’s studies were going even better than the training. She was a diligent and eager student, always asking questions and taking down notes, and Blinky knew that she supplemented his lectures with the reading materials she was hoarding in her chambers.

Blinky’s studies, however, had hit a dead end. And by dead end, he meant that he had not found a single shred of evidence for Alexandra’s existence.

Which should have been impossible, or at least extremely improbable. Trolls took a lot of time and effort to record names and families, given their low numbers and long lives. Now it could have happened that her personal record was lost in the crossing and migration; Alexandra probably wasn’t old enough to have been born before the end of the war, and when the majority of trolls moved from Europe and crossed the American continent many things were lost, including documents and records. But that would not explain the absence of any record of Asphodelus, Alexandra’s…Blinky actually wasn’t sure if that was her mother or father. Blinky held one of many, many copies of records of trolls born before, during, and after the migration – it was exceptionally rare that any troll, even from a reclusive or unpopular line, neglected to have their name or the name of a new relative recorded. He, Vendel, and several other scholars around the world regularly received missives announcing the birth of a whelp.

There were three explanations for Asphodelus’s and Alexandra’s lack of records. The first was that Asphodelus was one of those rare and few who never had their names taken in the records, and they had neglected to give Alexandra’s as well. The second was that the records had – for whatever reason – been completely destroyed, a feat only possible through magic.

The third was that Alexandra had lied.

Maybe she didn’t know her family, Blinky thought. Maybe she had dishonored ancestors. Maybe she was in hiding. Maybe she was a criminal. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Blinky naturally told AAARRRGGHH about his findings, but neither of them rushed to inform Vendel. As soft-hearted as he was underneath the sarcasm and disappointment, he was also extremely pragmatic. A Trollhunter who lied about something so simple, so seemingly unimportant, was not a Trollhunter that they could trust.

Alexandra was reminded in the next week of exactly how much she loved the barter system. Prices depended on what someone needed or how much they wanted what she offered, and it varied from person to person. Her cat had crapped in the room again and she bought breakfast and lunch with its leavings, as well as a hairball it spit up. That actually got her a decent little salt lamp, in addition to a plate of seared mushrooms. The residents of Trollmarket were surprisingly accommodating, and she supposed that they were very used to having foreign trolls around, as well as Trollhunters new to the job. She had not been called to do anything yet, as Blinky had told her she would, but she wanted to be ready. ‘Trollhunter’ wasn’t just a thorn in Bular’s side, but a leader and servant to the people under his or her wing. It was more responsibility than Alexandra had ever been charged with to bear, and although she had decided to truly give it her all (with little choice otherwise) she tried not to think about it.

Blinky may have had pity on her on the second day, but by the third she was back in the Forge, working on her footwork and building up her strength and endurance. If she was honest with herself she would have admitted that the exercise felt good, but it also left her so sore that she dreaded getting up to go train. It didn’t help that he now made the floor of the arena move.

Sparring with Draal especially killed her. He and Blinky both seemed to take absolute amusem*nt from making her suffer, but Draal took it the extra mile. If she failed to block a hit, she had to practice the move until she got it, and then he’d still spring around and try the same hit at random times throughout the training session.

Day four had been especially brutal, because Blinky only let her use one set of arms – the lower ones. He’d seen her struggle with using them and had her practice her sword forms to perfection, changing which hand held the sword each time. Alexandra’s lower arms were weak and extremely out of practice, and she was still sore three days later.

In fact, she’d never been more emotionally and physically exhausted in her life. Not only was she re-learning how to control a body she hadn’t used in decades, pushing it through spars and memorizing forms, she was also studying every book she could glue her eyes to and re-reading her notes from Blinky’s daily lectures.

The sheer number of things she was completely ignorant about was staggering, and she knew that Blinky had noticed. He had begun to ask her about her family, her childhood home, how and where she had lived, where she had learned to fence, even where she’d gotten her clothes. Dodging his queries and making up half-truths and often times straight-up lies was exhausting. She was half-ready to just shout I’m a Changeling, motherf*cker! just to stop him from questioning her all the time. And he was sneaky about it, too. He didn’t just outright ask her things, but made quiet little I suppose that blah blah blah comments or made delicate little prompts whenever she spoke, or else deliberately false assumptions so that she would instinctively correct them, and thus give him more information. She’d never heard or used to much double-speak and coded language in her life.

And it got dangerous, too. He’d noticed that she knew more about the Darklands than anything else. She wasn’t sure how she’d let that slip, but she needed to be more careful. She’d been so enthralled, so unusually accepted in Trollmarket that she’d gotten careless somewhere, and careless – for her kind – was deadly.

Alexandra felt a hard little skull nudge against her elbow and absently rubbed it with another hand. She had…acquired a few more cats than she had initially intended. So far the number had grown to four, and she really needed to get proper cat supplies. She hadn’t had a pet for several decades, and whenever an escapee ran across her path she just kind of…well, stole it, more or less. She made up for it by paying for things with their leavings instead of using the good ol’ I’m the Trollhunter, gimme stuff system that several stalls seemed to expect from her and she was enjoying the company, but it was getting crowded. And smelly. She really needed a proper litterbox.

Which reminded her of her other problem: Kanjigar’s body. Blinky, AAARRRGGHH, Draal, and even Vendel had all begun to pressure her about going up and fetching it. She’d procrastinated long past the point of tolerance – it had been over a week already. Every time she glanced at the empty plinth in the Forge she got a little stab of annoyed guilt.

Which was exactly why she was huddled in her nest, with a cat on each arm, reading about the trolls who fought in the Gallic wars and avoiding the trip she’d planned.

She’d received multiple offers to help with the retrieval, but every one had been refused; she couldn’t let them see her apartment.

The little watch she’d bought told her that it was almost sunset, and she closed her book with a sigh. Getting Kanjigar out during the daytime would have been more convenient for her, but too many people would see her, and even if she covered him with a sheet there would be too many questions. Alexandra also doubted that she could pick him up in her human form; strong as it was, trolls weighed a lot, especially once dead. This was not going to be fun.

She snuck out of the market just as the sun was beginning to set, and Changed in the shadows of the bridge. The light, the sounds, the smells of the human world hit her like a brick, and she wobbled for a few steps before she got used to only having two hands and more even proportions again. This was why she preferred to stay in one shape; her human and troll forms were too different. She almost felt blinded with only two eyes to see from.

She went to the town’s oversized supermarket first and bought a supply of cat litter and food. She’d run low very quickly, but it would give her time to either find some sand or get rid of the cats.

Being Upstairs was…odd. It was like returning to your hometown after an extended trip; both new and familiar. She felt distinctly more at ease than she was in Trollmarket, and by the time she got to her apartment it was like she never gone.

A neighbor greeted her, but otherwise she was unbothered. She had the habit of taking pains not to make friends where she lived; she’d found out the hard way how difficult it was to disappear for a period of time when someone expected to chat with her in the apartment hallway every day. It raised too much suspicion when someone was familiar with her daily routines.

Kanjigar still stood in her living room, a menacing stone statue staring a ruffled yellow curtain.

Alexandra quickly shut the door, taking a look around the apartment to make sure nothing was amiss; things were exactly the same as she had left them, although a bit dusty. Her senses were a bit heightened after so soon a Change, and she could smell the neglect – the things gone bad in the fridge, the clothes that hadn’t been washed, the hot-dust scent from the closed curtains. She’d forgotten to turn off her air conditioning, and it rattled on. She knew in that moment that she would pack her things away, terminate her lease, and end things at the bookshop. This was the world she was used to, but not the one she could stay in now. Trollhunter, unfortunately, was rather all-encompassing.

There was still glass and a stained blanket on the floor by Kanjigar’s feet, from where he’d broken the window.

Prove yourself, he had said. You are more than what you were made to be.

Prove yourself.

Alexandra shook the memory out of her head and puttered around the apartment, making calls and packing things up, trying to do as much as she could until it was the early hours of morning. As soon as it hit two-thirty, she closed her computer, packed her cat supplies into a bag, and Changed, stepping carefully around the glass to tie a sheet over Kanjigar. She had to summon the armor to pick him up and stick him on the dolly she’d bought, wheeling him over to the front door, which was just barely wide enough.

It took a little concentration, but she managed a little trick – to Change while in the armor. The armor shrank with her, forming seamlessly on her human body, and she draped herself in a long winter coat. Odd, for the time of the year, but she’d need the power-up and didn’t want to be caught either in glowing armor or in troll form if any of her neighbors came to investigate why she was dragging an enormous sheet-covered statue out of the building at three in the morning.

The elevator – because there was no way in hell she was wheeling Kanjigar’s fat ass down the damn stairs – accommodated only one of them, so Alex had to send Kanjigar down by himself, while she ran down the stairs and hoped to hell that no one wanted to use the elevator in the wee hours.

Getting him through the front door was a trip, literally, because of the stairs. She almost smashed him – his left elbow actually caught the doorframe and chipped off, and Alexandra nearly dropped the rest of him in surprise and dismay. She frightened a young man passing by with her cursing, and by the time she got to the edge of the park she was ready to either cry or laugh maniacally, and just dump him in the grass. She Changed once more in the shadows of the trees and wheeled him through the park.

She had to think for a bit on how, exactly, to get Kanjigar down the side of the canal without breaking him, and eventually she gave up, tucked him behind a tree, and went down to Trollmarket to get some help.

Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were waiting at the base of the crystal staircase, as she had asked them to, but she wasn’t surprised to see Draal there as well. He looked her up and down, as if seeing her in the armor still horrified him, and gestured around them.

“Where is my father?”
“I don’t want him to break,” said Alexandra, shooting foremost for whatever would get Draal to be sympathetic. “Will you give me a hand?”

Draal snorted but brushed by her.

“You should have a few to spare,” he said. Alexandra rolled her eyes and came up the stairs behind him, hearing Blinky and AAARRRGGHH at her back.

“Excuse me if I’m not composed solely of muscle and bad attitude,” she muttered, just loud enough for Draal to hear.

He kept quiet, unusual for him, but she knew that most of his piss and vitriol was borne from mourning. As rude and brutish as he was, he had just lost his father less than a fortnight ago, and the fact that he not only hadn’t tried to kill but was actively training his father’s replacement was…reasonably admirable.

They emerged from the entrance to see the morning beginning to lighten; the tops of trees were distinguishable from the sky, and although it would be at least another half hour until the sun broke it was still much later than Alex would have liked. She was immune to the effects of daylight, but the others were not and the exact last thing she needed was another co*cksucking statue to drag down to Trollmarket.

“He’s up here. Let’s hurry.”
Alexandra pushed past Draal and clamored up the side of the canal, keeping one eye on to the east and the others watching for humans or Bular, since he was prone to hanging around the area.

The others had to wait until a paperboy passed over the bridge, but once Alexandra waved them clear they joined her in the park. AAARRRGGHH started to lift the sheet but Alex shooed his hands away, the pale grey sky worrying her.

“We’ll do that later,” she whispered. “Just get him down.”

Draal and AAARRRGGHH had to tag-team it to get Kanjigar down the side of the canal without any damage, and they got him through the entrance without trouble.

Alexandra went last, and just as the portal closed she saw, out of the corner of two eyes, the spindly leg of a goblin disappear behind the beam of the bridge above.

There was an uproar down below when Alex managed to get her heartrate back under control and descend the stairs. She knew she’d have to see goblins and Changelings and Bular again, but she really hadn’t expected it, as if it could just be a slight possibility if she didn’t think about it enough. She had not been ready.

Alexandra was still dazed when she walked to the bottom of the stairs, and thus Blinky’s warning look didn’t register with her. Only her newly-building reflexes saved her from getting her face caved in.

AAARRRGGHH caught her and pushed her back to her feet; she had tripped over the sheet she’d used to cover Kanjigar. Draal was standing in front of the dead troll, looking more murderous than he had when she’d first seen him.

“What kind of insult is this?!”

He roared in her face and gestured violently to his father. Alex looked over his shoulder; Kanjigar was unchanged. She was afraid some kid had drawn a mustache on him or something.

“What insult,” she asked. Draal shoved his face two inches in front of her own, breathing so hard that his nose ring rattled.

“You dare to bring me my father in this condition, in this state, and expect no retribution? I will not see Kanjigar the Courageous dishonored in this way!”
“He’s not wearing the armor,” said Blinky behind her, and Alex finally understood. Why hadn’t she seen this before?

Each and every Trollhunter interred in the Hero’s Forge was shown in his or her armor. Every Trollhunter had died in that armor.

Except Kanjigar.

“Master Alexandra, perhaps now would be a good time to explain what, exactly, happened.”

Blinky sounded unusually stern, and with a glance she saw suspicion and accusation in his and AAARRRGGHH’s faces.

The trolls surrounding them looked as grim and distrustful as they did, and over the tops of their heads Alexandra could see Vendel’s starry eyes glaring.

“I challenge you,” said Draal then, his voice almost shaking with anger, the words difficult to hear through clenched teeth. Alexandra whirled around to face him in surprise.

“You will pay for my father’s insult with blood.”

“I can explain this,” she hissed at him. She was wholly shaken; in the week since they’d known each other she’d never have considered him a friend, but to have him challenge her to a duel? Where one or both of them would die? It was beyond dismaying. She thought she’d been doing better than this.

“Draal, I can explain – “
“I don’t care,” he said. It was all she could do to not back away when he fully stepped into her space, shoulders hunched, jaw tense, fists clenched and shaking. Right there, it was just the two of them, breathing in each other’s fear and anger.

Around them, several people were cheering him and goading him on, demanding him to fight her, to make her pay, to show her what a true Trollhunter should be, and when Alexandra looked in his eyes she saw the weight of all those expectations glimmering there. He was angry, yes, but not enough to be willing to possibly die in a duel.

Alexandra minutely shook her head. Draal’s eyes widened.

“I’m not fighting you for this,” she whispered. Draal exhaled, but didn’t back down.

“I’m not fighting,” she said, louder this time.

“No backing out of challenge,” said AAARRRGGHH, quietly, solemnly. Several of the trolls in the crowd agreed with him, yelling for them to get a move on.

I can’t do this.

I have to do this.

A Changeling’s life was one of difficult decisions, of absences and losses and unmet wants. She’d left her first family in shame; her second in mourning; friends and lovers with empty rooms and empty beds. She’d killed people who had suspected her: a man who thought she was a witch; a woman who had seen her in the subway tunnels; a fellow Changeling who fought her in the Darklands, and another who kept digging into her disappearance.

She could live with herself if – when – she killed Draal.

Alexandra refused to second-guess herself and think further on it. She summoned the armor. The people around them screamed for blood, and Draal’s eyes tightened with disappointment and determination.

The crowd followed them to the Hero’s Forge. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH separated her from the throng and Vendel pulled Draal to the other side of the arena, looking for all the world like a disappointed grandparent. People filled the balconies, and from the massive doorway Blinky situated her just inside of, most of them looked like they were rooting for Draal.

Blinky hesitated, then put a hand on her shoulder.

“Remember the three rules,” he said quietly. “I know we have not trained as much as…as I would have liked, but you are creative, and you know Draal’s habits, as he knows yours. Draal will not be afraid of you, and that will be his failing. Let his hubris bring him to his defeat.”

Alex thought back to the resignation and obligation in Draal’s violent yellow eyes, and knew that it wasn’t truly hubris that made him challenge her. But she nodded, giving Blinky a reassuring smile.

The crowd cheered and boo’d her when she stepped through the doorway.

“The Trollhunter has been challenged by the son of her predecessor,” said Vendel to the masses, “In defense of his father Kanjigar’s honor. You all will bear witness to the battle, which will be one for the ages!”
Vendel muttered something after that, but Alexandra couldn’t hear it. It probably wasn’t complimentary.

“Enter Alexandra, daughter of Asphodelus: the Trollhunter.”

The cage-like door slammed down behind her, almost making her jump.

“And now, Alexandra’s combatant: Draal, son of Kanjigar, son of Tarigar. Draal the ‘Destroyer’.”

Draal came tearing out of his doorway, curled into a crystal-spike-covered ball and rolling across the floor almost faster than Alex’s eyes could follow. He rocketed up the wall and fell, landing in the center of the arena just a few yards from Alexandra.

“Prepare for battle,” said Vendel. Draal cracked his fists on the stone floor, roaring at Alex and hunching his shoulders. She summoned the sword and twirled it in her hand, baring her not-inconsiderable teeth and snarling. She knew he was trying to intimidate her, like he had in their first meeting, but she knew the measure of him. He was a kid under too much pressure and little guidance, unfortunately a fantastic warrior, but he wanted to fight as much as she did. He wanted to live and he didn’t like her, but his heart wasn’t into killing her, and that was her advantage. She was a damned Changeling; their methods differed, their loyalty wavered, and their power was nonexistent, but they survived.

The arena rumbled, and then rose; Alexandra and Draal, on the centerpiece, were carried to the level of the balconies, while the rest of the floor settled on various levels below.

Vendel raised his arms, and the crowd hushed for a single second.

“Begin.”

Alexandra struck first. She rolled to the side, swinging her sword at the back of Draal’s knees. He jumped away with a yelp, obviously not having expected her to make the first move.

I’m the f*cking Trollhunter, for Christ’s sake, she thought darkly. I’m not taking this sh*t from you!

They charged each other at the same time, and he blocked her sword with the wraps on his wrist. She knew he wasn’t going to use any of the forms or strikes he’d trained her in, and she didn’t expect him to. He wasn’t going to pull his punches, and neither was she.

This wasn’t the time to fight fair. If she could get enough of his limbs at least injured with Daylight she might have a chance.

While she was trying to cut through his wraps, he lowered his head and caught her on the chin with his horns, sending her reeling back before she could turn his wrist to stone.

Is the Trollhunter allowed to be underhanded?

Draal spat on the floor and rolled his shoulders, eagerly waving at the crowd that had cheered his hit.

Y’know…I don’t give a f*ck.

Draal began to turn around as Alexandra rose, and then he very softly sank to the ground, Alexandra’s foot retracting from between his legs. She ignored the booing from the crowd in favor of hitting him in the head with both right fists before he could have time to do more than groan. The punches downed him, but he rolled, retreating to the other side of the centerpiece.

“That’s a coward’s move,” he shouted, standing rather stiffly. Alexandra rolled her shoulders and summoned the sword again.

“And yet it worked. Come at me.”

Draal came after her, faster than she was prepared for. He hit her with a glance but it still threw her several feet, and she was reminded that the floor wasn’t exactly level anymore. Her second left hand caught her before she could fall and she flipped, landing in a graceless roll on the piece of arena floor below, the sword sliding away from her.

There was a crack, and the pain hit after a second of shock. The elbow she’d hurt in their first spar, almost healed in the past week, took too much pressure on the sprain and failed. Her primary arm was useless.

Too soon. It was only a minute into the fight, it was too soon, and she was already injured.

And Draal had noticed.

She looked up to see him peering over the edge of the level above; her level moved suddenly, and began to rise as his fell. He jumped over when they crossed paths and grabbed her leg, hurling her upwards, but her sword materialized in her other right hand and she slashed at his arms and face, forcing him to let go; she rose a few more feet, and then began to fall. Draal was still bothered by his left eye turning to stone; Alex’s sword angled downward, and he only managed to avoid being run through by a lucky hit. She was swatted out of the air and over the side of the level again, but she was back up when the floor flattened again. Alex scrambled backward onto the centerpiece just in time to see the pieces surrounding it turning onto their sides.

Draal jumped and landed far below.

f*ck that.

Alexandra waited until the centerpiece went back down before striking again, catching her breath in the brief reprieve. She was losing because she was fighting like a troll. Taking hits, striking fast and plain – just like Blinky and Draal taught her. But this wasn’t a brawl or a spar – she would die if she didn’t win this fight.

Draal smirked at her when she reached the floor, but when he swung at her she dodged, moving her head just enough to the side that his blow missed. She twisted and struck with her left hands, leaving claw marks on his cheek and neck before dancing out of the way again.

“You can do better than that,” she hissed. Draal snarled and charged, as she knew he would, and she slid neatly between his legs and hacked off the edges of several of the crystals on his back. He snarled in rage and swiped at her again, but she stayed out his range, throwing the cut tips of the crystals at his face.

Draal had to block his view of her to shield his face, but he quickly got tired of it and rolled again. Alexandra wasn’t fast enough to get out of his way and he grabbed her, kicking her in the nose and getting a deadly hold on her torso and squeezing. The armor crackled with blue, trying to shield her; she twisted as far as she could and managed to hook a finger in his nose-ring.

Blood sprayed her arm and face as she ripped it out; Draal yelled and smashed a hand against her helmet, the noise and pressure making her head ring and her vision blur – and then her vision blacked out completely, when she wriggled out of his grip but was tackled to the floor.

Alex managed to get an arm around his throat before several hundred pounds of hyper-masculine troll crushed her ribcage; she couldn’t breathe. Draal dug the edges of his crystals into her leg and she had to grit her teeth to avoid crying out, but she did yell and bite down when he smashed his elbow into the side of her jaw. She held tighter, tasting blood in her mouth from where she’d bitten her tongue, but she didn’t let go of his head until it was either that or have him break her leg.

Draal rolled out of her grip and they stood slowly, circling each other steadily. They each took stock of their individual injuries even as their eyes stayed focused on the eyes of the other. Draal had a slowly-healing patch of stone staining his left eye as well as several small patches on the undersides of his arms and one on his side. One of his teeth had been knocked loose, and dribbles of blood splattered on the arena floor from his mouth and the torn skin on his cheek, neck, and nose, as well as a nasty bite on his elbow.

Alex’s primary arm was dead weight, the elbow dislocated. Her mouth was aching and the blood made her nauseas, and her chest pained when she took anything but a shallow breath. Two of the eyes on the left side of her face were swollen shut, and her head was aching and ringing. Her right leg hurt when she put pressure on it; her mobility was now severely limited. The sword, if she kept using it in one of her less-experienced hands, was more of a danger to herself than to Draal, despite all of the drills he’d made her run for the exact occasion where her primary arm would be rendered incapable.

She had three arms and one leg, in a fight against an opponent larger, stronger, and faster than she.

Rule Number One, she thought wryly. She was f*cking terrified.

Draal wiped the blood away from his nose and growled at her. The sound jarred at her ringing ears but she responded in kind, and crouched in a defensive position.

When he struck next, she evaded, and kept evading, only darting in his range to land a fast strike and then dodging out of the way when he tried to hit her again. Alex hoped to tire him out; she kept moving back behind his elbow, just inside his blind spot, which forced him to turn around quickly before she could slice at the back of his arms or his neck.

The plan stopped working when he grabbed her sword. Just…grabbed her sword.

The cut it made on his hand was enough to turn the entire thing up to the wrist to stone, but once Draal got a grip he did not – could not – let go, and the sword was wrenched from Alexandra’s hands; it vanished in a spark of blue.

Alex was so shocked that she forgot to duck.

The uppercut sent her to the floor, the armor having absorbed only enough to avoid her neck being broken from the sheer force of the hit. Alexandra crumbled on the ground, smacked her helmet, and blacked out.

The birdsong was loud in her ears; it was too early for the dogwood outside of her window to be blooming, but the birds perched in it year-round. She snuggled deeper into her quilt, curling her knees up around her chest to get a little bit warmer.

Hendry, her father, was gently calling to her.

“Wake up,” he said; his voice was smiling, as it often did. “Thou art late in rising, Alexandra.”

She hated when he spoke in English. Most of their community was from England and it was the primary language used, but she preferred the Welsh that Hendry and Gwladys, her mother, used at home.

“Bore da,” she murmured, which made him chuckle; the entire settlement knew her dislike of learning English.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Mae'n rhy oer i fod yn dda.”

“It may be cold,” he replied, “But it is still a good day, and thou must rise.”

She pulled the quilt over her head. Rising meant going outside, for milk and eggs. Breakfast wasn’t worth the cold, and she was sooo tired. Every inch of her body ached.
“Alexandra,” Hendry said again, and this confused her. Her father had never known her as Alexandra. She was Verity, to him. Wasn’t she?
“Alexandra. Thou must rise. Get up.”

Why did she have to get up when it hurt so much? There was a roaring in her ears, as if a crowd was outside the window. Was something happening? Had a house caught fire, like the neighbor’s did last winter? Why were people yelling so much? It hurt her head. Suddenly she wasn’t cold – she was warm. Warmer than spring had ever felt in her house.

“Alexandra, get up. You must get up!”
Her right arm hurt too much to move, and the ringing in her ears, only now noticeable, was like a church bell. She was beginning to panic, but she still couldn’t bring herself to move.

“Get up, Alexandra,” Hendry yelled. “You must get up!”
“Get up!”
“Alexandra!”

Alex groaned.

“Dydw i ddim eisiau mynd i fyny,” she murmured. The blood and pain in her mouth made her slur; she hoped her father would understand, and stop shouting. A strange thundering sound, like the footsteps of God, were coming closer and closer to her.

“Alexandra, please, get! Up!”

She tried to open her eyes, but some wouldn’t listen. Her leg and arm were on fire.

Blinky’s yell shot an arrow of pain straight between her brows.

“ALEXANDRA!”

Alex’s eyes snapped open, and she flinched backward just in time to avoid a massive crystal-encrusted shoulder landing where her head had been. She summoned the sword automatically and sliced as Draal rolled, giving him a streak of stone across his shoulder and bicep and rendering the arm useless. Her momentum twisted her around and she used the sword and two of her arms to brace against the ground when she kicked Draal in the side as he fell. He did not get up.

The crowd above gasped and cheered, out of horror and the thirst for battle; Alex’s ears turned the sound to white noise. She had to use the sword to stand and walk.

Draal was utterly defeated. There was a cut on his throat and chin that bled sluggishly, and he couldn’t lift his arms to block when she positioned her sword between his eyes.

They stayed locked for several moments, both immobilized in their own ways.

“The match is to the death, Trollhunter,” Draal snarled quietly, but his voice was more resigned than defiant. It was the tone that made her pause.

He was resigned to being killed by her.

Something about her black-out caught at her, and a fleeting memory ran through her mind:

“All life is of worth, Verity,” said her mother, sharing with her a pot of tea while they waited for the bread to rise. She had gotten angry at one the neighbors’ boys, who had teased her when she shrieked and kicked away a snake. She’d punched the tall one right in the nose, causing her mother to be drawn out of a Meeting to deal with her.

“Even the mean, the cruel, and the poorest of men. All break the divine bread of life, of its hopes and sorrows and loves…”

Alex couldn’t remember past that. She’d said something that made Gwladys grimace, but she didn’t hit the others again. A few years later she heard about the witch-hunts happening in Bamburg, and became the best-behaved child in the village, making friends and allies with absolutely everyone, too terrified to act out because what if.

She’d always felt better and worse after her mother’s sermons, both cleansed and guilty, because she remembered the scream when she’d broken another Changeling child’s arm, not two years before she’d been assigned. She pushed another off a towering geode and watched her break, heard the sudden shrill whistle from the goblin who watched the fights. She’d felt favored and powerful, then – capable of surviving. Always surviving.

The crowd above them was screaming, screaming for her to so something.

She’d known from the beginning that Draal didn’t want to die, not for this fight. She could have lived with killing him.

But things were different now; she wasn’t just surviving. Even if people found out, she was still the Trollhunter, and would be until her death. That changed things.

Alexandra tapped her sword against Draal’s neck, and slowly bent down. She had to brace two arms against his shoulder to avoid falling over, but he was still at her mercy, and his defeated eyes knew it.

“…You are worth more than this death today,” she whispered to him. His eyes fell to her sword, and she shook her head minutely.

“The fight is to the death,” he whispered back, more urgently this time. Alexandra knew the rules; troll society was one of the first things she’d read up on. But it didn’t matter.

“Do you really think that this is the best you can do?” she said. “You have more of a destiny than this, Draal. You are more than the son of your father.”

He looked utterly shocked. Alexandra removed her sword from his throat, and stood. She moved smoothly, strong and steady, clenching her teeth from the pain but refusing to show any weakness to the screaming crowd – not now.

Draal hesitated when she put her hand in his, but his fingers finally tightened, and she lifted him back to his feet.

Alexandra ignored the crowd, and slowly walked Draal to the door, barely feeling the glares and thrown refuse as they limped out of the arena.

Alex took them the long way around in an attempt to avoid as many people as possible, but the only ones about were those who had not attended the fight, and so she and Draal were left alone as she took him to her quarters. She’d passed Blinky and AAARRRGGHH to fetch her bag, but at the look she gave them neither of them spoke, and she knew it would be a while before they came to check on her.

The cats had made a mess in the bathroom. Draal sank on the nest when she pushed him down, and followed the little creatures with his eyes.

“Did you steal all these cats,” he asked. Alexandra dragged herself into the patch of light that the Heartstone shone through her window and dismissed the armor, sliding down the wall in a pained heap.

“Yes.”
“Can I eat o – “

“No.”

She’d closed her eyes, and so only heard Draal shift in the nest.

“What is the purpose of these cats – “
“Stop asking about my cats.”

Draal mercifully shut up, and began digging through her recently-enlarged stash of medicines, if her ears were correct. They were still ringing unpleasantly. At some point in time her hair had come loose, and the short ends prickled her ears uncomfortably.

Everything hurt. This wasn’t something she could just get over in a week. It was going to take a lot more than a few crystals and a salt lamp to fix the injuries she’d sustained in the match.

“f*ck you,” Alex muttered.

“You have destroyed my honor and effectively banished me from my home,” Draal replied. She smelled a package of herbs being opened, and hoped he wasn’t going to use all of it.

“Yeah, well, you kicked me in the face.”

Draal snorted. It sounded painful.

“And you touched my sword, you asshole. I hope you weren’t attached to that hand.”
“As long as it stays attached to me, it should be…fine.”

I hope it crumbles, Alex thought maliciously. She let Draal take his pick of the medicine supply before mutely holding out her least-aching hand and letting him deposit the rest there. The salves were already mixed, and were applied to her cuts and bruises; the herbs chewed and swallowed; the crystals…

She really didn’t want to stand up, so she laboriously scooted on her butt over to the side of the nest. Draal was at least sitting up, and she gestured to her dislocated elbow.

He was delicate, actually, and when the joint was back in place Alex firmly attached her handy little crystal to it, hoping that at least she’d be able to move the arm by morning. She moved back to the shaft of Heartstone light, and waited for the medicines to take hold.

Draal, having done everything he could for his wounds, had nothing better to do than sit and stare at the wall. He looked so lost, so empty of everything, that Alex couldn’t help the flare of pity.

“I am sorry about Kanijigar,” she said softly. Draal wiped a crust of blood from his upper lip and looked at his feet.

“I watched his fight with Bular,” Alexandra murmured. “He did well, but he was losing. Too injured, out too late. The amulet led him to me. He told me I was the next Trollhunter, handed me the amulet, and stepped into the sunlight.”

Draal wasn’t going to cry, she knew. It wasn’t his thing, and she didn’t think he was that close with his father anyway. Hero-worship was different than familial affection.

After a long time, Draal finally spoke.

“Why did he hand you the amulet,” he asked softly. “He would have died with it with him. It was his to the death, as it is now yours.”
“He was brain-damaged,” said Alex absently, tonguing her sore teeth. Draals turned to her so fast that his neck cracked.

“I didn’t… not…that he was stupid. Half his head was sun-stained. He literally had taken damage to the brain, and that messes with your decision-making skills. I’m guessing that he also wasn’t much for mood swings?”
Draal shook his head, the righteous anger on his face fading.

“Yeah. So. Sun-stained.”

Silence. Then:

“He’s missing an elbow.”

Alexandra dug through her bag and threw it at him.

“And part of his hand.”
“I don’t know where that is,” Alexandra said. “He came to me damaged.”

Draal glared at her with daggers in his eyes, and she ignored him. She’d beaten his ass in a fight; he didn’t scare her anymore.

“You’re not staying here, you know.”
Draal looked at her from beneath his heavy brows, like some kicked puppy with big yellow eyes, although one was crusted with the strange purpleish-red of troll blood. He had a surprisingly boyish face when he stopped snarling. Alexandra worried at a split in her lip.

“You can stay for a day or so, at least until you’re healed enough to not collapse and die in a sewer somewhere.”

Apparently that was permission enough for him to fall backward onto the nest. Alexandra exhaled heavily. She sat in the light of the Heartstone for a good while after that, feeling the faint pulse it made course through the aches and cracks in her body, before she painfully stood up and walked to the nest, elbowing Draal in the face until he made room for her. She lay wedged between his armpit and the wall, her damaged leg hanging off of the side, and used the back of his shoulder as a pillow.

“Don’t f*cking touch my cats,” she murmured, just as she felt him falling asleep. He huffed in annoyance, but stayed quiet.

“If you roll over on me I’m turning you to stone.”
“Good night, Trollhunter.”

Alexandra closed her eyes.

Asshole.

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

"A weed is a plant that is not only in the wrong place, but intends to stay."

- Sara Stein

Trollmarket was in an uproar, and Blinky was…stressed.

As trainer of the Trollhunter, he’d been hounded with questions, accusations, exclamations, and sarcastic mockery in the day following the fight, especially when Alexandra failed to appear. He knew she was injured, but even sticking her head out the door of the quarters and shouting ‘f*ck off!’ would have been better than her absence. The fact that she hadn’t been around after such a controversial fight possibly had ruined what little reputation she had gained.

He and AAARRRGGHH had ventured up to her room with medicines a few hours after the fight, having had trouble shaking off everyone who wanted to ‘congratulate’ Blinky on his rather unorthodox student. Nobody answered the door, so they dropped off what they’d brought and left. They’d learned not to barge into Alexandra’s room after her second morning in Trollmarket, when she nearly took Blinky’s head off when he came to wake her up for training.

Eventually, though, she emerged, looking half-dead but no less eager…

…Perhaps ‘eager’ was the wrong word…

…Looking no less determined to continue her training. She was assaulted with both well-wishers and nay-sayers, but when asked about her final decision in the battle her answers more or less amounted to “Deal with it.”

As it was, she was too injured to attend physical training, so Blinky had her hidden in his library, stacks of his brother’s books piled up to her nose as he deliberately lectured her on the finer points of troll battle cultures around the world. She studiously took her notes, absorbing everything he told her even though she had flouted a good majority of the rules about honorable fighting. He was sure she’d even bitten Draal at one times.

Blinky peered at her over the top of a dusty tome.

She claimed that she had no idea where Draal was, but the entirety of Trollmarket had seen them leave together, and when she came to train or study she smelled like him. Given their mutual dislike, Blinky would be very surprised if they turned out to be lovers, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t still keeping in contact with him.

Not that it mattered. Draal was dishonored, an outcast; his actions and whereabouts were inconsequential. The problem was that Alexandra was lying in the first place. And to her trainer!

Blinky knew that she knew that he was watching her. She had to know; Blinky had never been very good at being sneaky. But she never gave any sign that she was purposefully trying to act casual, or not cause suspicion. In fact she still did things or said things that gave Blinky question, not even trying to hide her peculiarities. Like when she looked at him as if he was crazy when he suggested closing her wounds with molten metal. Did they not do anything in New Jersey?

Alexandra still hadn’t told him much about her past, but Blinky – as he suspected she knew – was observant, and he’d noticed her muttering in another language during the battle, but it wasn’t Trollish. He hadn’t been close enough to hear.

And her battle tactics!

Blinky gently put down his book and rubbed his hands against his eyes. If he got into thinking about her fighting styles he’d never stop. He had been so absorbed with everything Alexandra for the past week and a half he’d barely had time to think about anything else. Why was she lying? How much was she lying about? Were her oddities truly a product of New Jersey, or something else? He’d never met a more elusive Trollhunter, and the problem was that she genuinely didn’t seem like she was trying to hide anything; only when he dug into matters themselves did he uncover her insincerity, and it just made his head ache.

But a little part of him, the part that Vendel always groused about, was happy. He had uncovered a new mystery, and on such a high-profile subject! Which was exactly why Vendel wasn’t going to know about this. Alexandra was, by every appearance, harmless and dedicated to her destined task. She wasn’t gregarious by any means but the few who had come to her for help or advice had been treated courteously, and although she tended to swear like a demon she trained hard and oh great Deya he was doing it again.

AAARRRGGHH lifted his head when Blinky shuffled over and took a seat closer to his side, but otherwise stayed asleep. He loved to listen to Blinky teach almost as much as Blinky loved teaching, but he always slept better after a lecture and was more than happy to curl up and nap in Blinky’s library. AAARRRGGHH was Blinky’s solace and sanity, now more than ever. He was not nearly as concerned as his smaller friend about the mysteries of their new Trollhunter, and he was used to Blinky sniffing around conspiracies enough that it was old hat. Blinky used him as a sounding board and a retreat when he ran himself ragged over years of messy misunderstandings and paranoid precautions.

AAARRRGGHH practically radiated calmness and serenity; Blinky just sat and emptied his mind for a while, enjoying his friend’s presence and the quiet writing of Alexandra’s pen.

It was nice.

…

…But WHY did she spare Draal’s life if she deeply disliked him, and where had she learned how to fight well enough to defeat him? She had been trained by the troll, true, but he had never trained her like that! She was evading, dodging, almost dancing with him, which was almost the exact opposite of how Draal had been teaching her. It was smarter, in a battle with someone her size versus an opponent the size and strength of Draal, but her knowledge of those tactics indicated that she’d fought before. Against who? When? Where?

AAARRRGGHH gently pat him on the head then, sleepily murmuring,

“Thinking too much.”

Alexandra smiled at them over her book.

Blinky had long since gotten over being embarrassed by AAARRRGGHH. Everyone in Trollmarket knew he was tactile with Blinky; everyone knew he was significantly less than eloquent; everyone knew he had his good days and bad days, and sometimes just needed to be left alone. But Blinky couldn’t help but wonder how Alexandra perceived his massive friend; being from such a strange place (possibly), did she find AAARRRGGHH strange as well, or was she truly as accepting as she appeared?

“AAARRRGGHH’s right, you’re thinking too much,” she muttered. Blinky had the sudden, intrusive thought that she could read his mind, but dismissed it almost immediately.

“I was merely wondering,” Blinky said quietly, “Where you learned to fight a larger opponent. You certainly handled Draal well.”

“Yes. Shame I don’t know where he is,” Alexandra replied. She was purposefully misunderstanding his statement in order to draw attention away from her fighting styles! She was hiding something!

“And I picked up a few things here and there. We’re not from the most muscular or battle-ready of clans, after all. Larger opponents are a fact of life.”
…Ah. So, she answers the question without giving away a single shred of personal information.

Blinky was dealing with a professional.

That was his first thought, anyway.

His second was: Let’s pit her against Bular.

She had no reaction, so she wasn’t reading his mind.

…Just in case.

Alexandra was nearly ready to go find one of the other Changelings in Arcadia and say ‘Hey! I’m alive! Please take me back!’ if it meant that she could get away from Blinky. He was honestly worse than Stricklander when it came to questions and roundabout inquiries, and now he was beginning to just ask outright! She knew that he was suspicious of her and it was stressing her the f*ck out, as if she needed another reason to be stressed.

Draal was still recovering in her room, she herself was only healed enough to wobble back and forth to the library, Blinky played Twenty Questions with her every day, half of Trollmarket thought she was an indecisive coward, and at some point soon she needed to go back upstairs to finish off her affairs and get more cat supplies.

It was not the best time for her trainer to be wondering about her. She was too injured to be able to fight her way out of Trollmarket, if he really discovered who she was. Hell, she was too injured to fight her way out of the library. Blinky himself could probably take her down in her current state.

Fortunately, nobody really wanted anything from her. A few people had approached her in the library, asking for advice or to settle a dispute – not everyone in Trollmarket had been dissatisfied with the outcome of the match, as it turned out – but for the most part she was left alone. She had proven herself against a formidable opponent, and even though she’d flouted the rules she still won.

Vendel, actually, had seemed the most impressed with her, and she suspected that it was because he cared about Draal. He had cornered her on her way back to her quarters one day, to question her. He had not inquired about the idiot’s whereabouts, but simply asked if he was okay. Alex suspected that her ‘concerned grandparent’ impression actually had more root in truth than she had initially assumed. When she told him of Draal’s condition he took her to his quarters inside the Heartstone and gave her a small bag of simple but powerful medicines, and then refused to interact with her further. But he had been significantly less vitriolic than any other time she’d spoken to him, and she knew he was grateful for her having spared the asshole’s life.

Draal himself was taking his ‘banishment’ reasonably well, even though he was going stir-crazy and driving her to the limits of her patience. He actually was not that bad a roommate, but Alexandra valued her privacy, and until Draal healed she was deprived of it. It was a good thing that trolls didn’t have much of a stink, because he couldn’t even leave to use the baths, but Alex was ready to kick him out for just about any excuse. He scoffed at her when she stayed up reading and her only form of revenge was gotten in the evenings, when he was trying to sleep. Alexandra had had several lovers over her lifetime, but she suspected that Draal had almost none, and when she shifted on the nest he always woke up, clearly not as used to sharing a bed as she was. Alex made sure to always go to bed after Draal was already asleep, just to wake him up when she made herself the little spoon. More than once he’d grumpily shifted so that she’d had to sleep against his crystal-covered back, but it was worth it.

She found and read every song and saga about Kanjigar the Courageous, which was extremely depressing but a good way to both learn about what was expected from the Trollhunter and a fantastic way to annoy Draal, especially when she read them out loud. He couldn’t roar at her to shut her up, in case he was found, so they had several furious but silent fights; which – in their injured states – usually just consisted of slaps and elbowing the other off the nest.

With the way her body reacted to troll medicine it took almost two weeks for her to get into semi-fighting state, and she spent the time studying, because troll history and culture was fascinating.

She had seen the multiple television screens of static in the market, but she hadn’t known that they actually acted as a sort of relaxant drug to trolls, enough that if one stared too long they would go into a daze. There was a species of troll that had sixty-six different words for ‘to snore’. There had been a human family called Sturges that assisted in the war against Gunmar and his army, acknowledged and honored in the annals of troll history. She learned that the origin story of Gunmar’s that she’d been fed as a child were not exactly true, but he had destroyed both his blood relatives and their records in order to make a cult around himself, and it was damned effective.

She studied biology and physiology as well. She learned about the subtle differentiations in color between males and females, which was handy because with trolls one couldn’t always tell just by shape or voice. There weren’t many trolls that could regenerate limbs, but apparently body modification was heavy in troll culture. Alexandra had noticed the carved tattoos, of course, but she was surprised that trolls would use gems, metal, and wood as well as everyday objects to alter their bodies. And she had no idea that she had seven stomachs. They were different than what humans thought of as stomachs, but still. Seven. She knew her troll form had two hearts, which always felt strange after a Change, but some of the information about her own biology was surprising. Apparently the reason she got so sick when she tried to be a vegetarian in the nineties was because some species of trolls actually died without meat in their diet. And trolls, apparently, did not sneeze. Something about how their nasal and respiratory passages were formed. Which was disturbing because Alexandra, in either form, could sneeze.

And she even found some info on Blinky and AAARRRGGHH. Apparently Blinky had gotten into a waiting-contest, of all things, with someone called Prothnurd the Persistent, which only ended after three years when Prothnurd keeled over and died. AAARRRGGHH was directly descended of the renowned warrior Johanna, who had ripped out Gunmar’s famous eye. He was also from a clan called the Krubera, located underneath the mountains between Russia and Georgia. The book she found said that although his clan reclaimed him, he didn’t remember anything from his original family. She didn’t dare ask AAARRRGGHH himself; she had a feeling that that was a question that would get her fewer odd looks and more banishment than she really wanted.

By the time she was in condition to go back to the Forge, she was avoiding Blinky and AAARRRGGHH. Not only because Blinky was getting suspicious of her, but because they wanted her to go upstairs. Which, to be fair, was something Alexandra was planning on doing anyway, but they wanted her to pick a fight with Bular.

She couldn’t even fathom why. Sure, she was charged with protecting the human world as well as trolls, but Bular couldn’t get into Trollmarket and there were absolutely no reports of a giant stone monster rampaging the streets of Arcadia, so what was the need to go up and find him? Were they actually expecting her to be able to kill him? Historically a battle between Bular and the Trollhunter – any Trollhunter – eventually ended with the Hunter dying – tragically, horrifically, and painfully.

Kanjigar, actually, was the only Hunter who hadn’t died during a fight. There was absolutely nothing Alexandra found encouraging about that.

Draal threw volume twenty-seven of A Brief Recapitulation of Troll-Lore at her face when she hesitated and hid in her room, calling her a coward. She remorselessly reminded him that his father had died due to injuries given to him by Gunmar’s son, which shut him up for five minutes before he began berating her again. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH didn’t dare enter her room, but they pestered her about it whenever she went out to get food.

Eventually, though, she had to give. Her cats were creating a good and proper stink, and she needed to terminate her lease and pack up. Blinky allowed her one more day after she agreed, to finish healing. When she snuck out of her room again, her body was still sore and bruised, but it didn’t hurt to handle her sword or walk anymore. She took a detour around the Heartstone, for luck or good vibes or whatever it was that the giant crystal gave her. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were busy with a gnome problem in the middle of the market and Alexandra made sure to give them a wide berth; she wanted to go up alone. If she came across Bular, she really didn’t want anyone to witness her death.

It was late morning when she emerged from Trollmarket for the second time in two weeks, and the sun felt so good that she had to stand and bask in it for a good moment, after having a very, very long look the underside of the bridge. She hadn’t expected a watcher out so soon – Bular and his minions couldn’t know she was a Changeling, so there was no reason that they knew of for her to be out during the day – but it never hurt to be careful.

Time passed so differently om Trollmarket; it was a pleasant, slow Saturday for the denizens above ground, a little later than Alexandra had anticipated. Things seemed to move faster in the sunlight, and Alex took an hour to walk the ten minute route from the bridge to her apartment, just watching.

Assembling the stuff from her apartment was both easy and difficult. Alex was more than practiced in packing up her entire life and hightailing it out of a town, but it was different this time. She wasn’t going to re-use her human things for the foreseeable future. She wasn’t just changing around her life this time, but abandoning it. The CLANK of the storage unit’s door closing seemed significantly more final that it had any right to be.

Alexandra rented her unit for another six months and spent the rest of the day gathering supplies and checking out books from the county library, knowing that she’d probably never take them back. Her back was laden with a heavy backpack filled with cat supplies and stolen books, as well as a handy little package from her apartment. Night had fallen by the time she got back to the park by the canal, as she planned; it wouldn’t look good if Blinky found out she went out and came back during the day.

She Changed in the shadow of a large acacia tree, and smelled the goblin before she saw it.

Son of a bitch!

The rubbery, salty scent hit her mind like a brick to the face, and she summoned the sword before she even thought about her little package. The goblin tried to flee, but she followed it through the trees, landing a hit with the flat of her sword and sending it screaming into the canal.

It was still struggling away when she got down to it, amazingly unsplattered. A swift cut rendered it silent. She stayed perfectly still, listening for any others, for when there was one there were often many.

That’s when she heard the breathing.

He’s in the sewers. There was a grate right in the wall, not twenty feet from her. Bular was f*cking watching her.

Alexandra dropped the sword and her backpack and tore for the side of the canal as the bars of the grate exploded outward, chunks of metal and concrete raining down at her from the right. She scrambled up the canal wall and dodged through the park with the thundering of footsteps close, far too close behind her.

“Trollhunter!”

Oh, Lord, she had not anticipated this! Before she was even out of the park she was getting out of breath, a stitch in her side reminding her that she had cracked ribs not two weeks ago.

She hid behind a tractor-trailer on the edge of the park, and Bular knocked the cab over, just missing crushing her legs as she desperately got out of the way. As the trailer fell on its side she got her first glimpse of him, a steaming, jagged shadow with fiercely glowing eyes. She hadn’t seen those eyes up close in centuries, and it reminded her to keep hers in check, lest they glow in fear.

Alexandra scampered across the street and through a small alley, forcing Bular to run around the end of the street, and she kept running as she doubled back down another alley to the street she’d just come from. Bular’s frustrated roar echoed in her ears, lending her another turn of speed as she booked it toward the canal.

This is where being human might have been useful, she thought derisively, ducking into a roll down the side of the canal. Her stumpy little troll legs weren’t exactly useful for sprinting, which was extremely inconvenient.

A familiar yell rang over the concrete just as Bular threw a broken tree into the canal, roaring as he did.

“Master Alexandra!”
“TROLLHUNTER!”

Alex was knocked aside by the flying tree and ended up with several nasty scratches and a twisted finger. She got back to her feet and summoned the armor, the glow of the sword fading from her eyes just as Bular landed in the canal. She was fifty feet from the opposite wall, where Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were silhouetted against the blue entrance to Trollmarket.

She was only a handwidth out of Bular’s range.

She kept two eyes on him and two on the surrounding areas, in case of an unexpected minion. The unusual input made her head ache, but she had to be aware of attacks from the side.

“Focus on your adversary, Master Alexandra,” shouted Blinky, reminding her that they had her back.

She looked him up and down, trying to find his weaknesses in a split second, but he was armored like nobody’s damn business. The only places she could see were his eyes, neck, and the skin beneath his arms; otherwise, there was nothing.

Bular swiped at her with a sword nearly the length of her body, forcing her to roll away. She came back up with a chunk of concrete in each lower hand and pelted him in the face, distracting him enough to throw the sword straight at his head. He had anticipated this, and the Daylight Sword glanced off his own blades, disappearing into the air with a fizzle of blue sparks. She was already pelting toward the others when one of his swords flew at her side, slicing her lower right forearm. She picked up the thrown sword and swung with it and a newly-summoned Daylight, ducking into Bular’s range as he swiftly caught up with her. He hadn’t expected an attack with his own sword and she got him under his arm, but he caught Daylight by the flat of its blade and wrenched it from her hands just as the other sword swung and f*cking got stuck in his armored shoulders.

His kick sent her to her back, twenty feet away.

And only six feet away from her discarded backpack.

Alexandra hoped that Bular was in the mood to brag as she hastily dug through her backpack, watching with three eyes as he smirked and stomped over to her.

“I would have thought we’d meet sooner,” said Bular quietly. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a good kill.”

Yes, the evil villain monologue, Alexandra thought, desperately tossing through books and bags of cat food.

“I was washing my hair,” she muttered, aware that Blinky was screaming at her to abandon her backpack and get the f*ck over to the portal.

Bular snorted.

“A sense of humor,” he said. “Useless.”

He looked over her, lying defenseless on the hard concrete, his fiery eyes roaming over her stubby legs, her four arms, and extended horns. She tried to look fierce, and knew that she failed.

“How many jokes do you truly believe you can make before your death?”

I’m so glad he likes to talk. Aha. Her hands found the little package, and she paused.

“I’ve only got one thing for you,” Alexandra said, her heart racing so much she almost felt nauseated. Bular, standing over her with two swords and three hundred pounds more, did not look intimidated.

“And that would be?”
Alex smirked through her fear.

“A Saturday Night Special,” she said, and shot him in the right eye.

Bular screamed like a bull and stabbed at her, but his depth perception was compromised and she rolled out of the way, slicing at his exposed neck with Daylight as she picked up her backpack and booked it toward Blinky and AAARRRGGHH.

‘Murica, motherf*cker, she thought, just before her helmet saved her from being brained by a piece of rebar. She both heard and felt Bular chasing after her, so much swifter despite his heavier body, the reverberations of his feet and hands shaking through the concrete. AAARRRGGHH yelled a warning and she dodged to the left, avoiding another flying blade by inches. She shrugged her pack off and tossed it to AAARRRGGHH, who unceremoniously threw it through the portal, just before the thing apparently got bored of waiting and turned back into a solid wall.

Bular and Alexandra fell into their space as he tackled her from behind, breaking her nose on the concrete and forcing the other two to scramble out of the way.

“I’ll drink your blood out of a goblet made from your skull!” Bular screamed, catching her head in one hand and smashing it against the ground. The helmet saved her again, but she could barely see from the sudden dizziness and double-vision and only managed to avoid being torn like poor Unkar the Unfortunate by taking another shot at Bular’s armored chest, which did not wound him so much as it lightly chipped the hard armor there. But it pissed him off, and she managed to sun-stain a good chunk of his left thigh before he kicked her away.

“Don’t be sore, Bular! I thought you wanted to be more like your father?”

A roar answered her. His now single eye looked as if it wanted to set her on fire, and she felt like it was succeeding. They circled each other, Alex trying to keep Blinky and AAARRRGGHH behind her as much as she could, and Alex could feel her older injuries acting up.

She was caught off guard when he lunged, not for her, but for the two trolls behind her, having correctly gauged them as Alexandra’s biggest weakness. His tail smashed into her hip as she turned, sending her to one knee, but she grabbed onto his belt and hauled herself atop his back. He lost his balance when she grabbed one of his horns and pulled, but he flung her off, charging for the undefended pair.

Blinky was only saved from immediate death by his friend, who blocked him and was flung against the wall of the canal by Bular’s massive forearm, chunks of concrete crashing down from the impact crater.

“Oh, this is not the way I imagined such a life as mine to end,” Blinky wailed in a panic, throwing up his arms as Bular aimed both swords at his head, but Alexandra flung herself between the two and the swords landed against Daylight with a ringing clash. She kicked behind her and shoved Blinky away, grabbing Bular’s swords and pulling her body forward until she was directly in his face, close enough to catch two fists against the stone-turned slice on the side of Bular’s neck, making him bellow and drop her.

She wasn’t fast enough to get completely out of his range, but her armor saved her from being hacked in two, and Blinky caught her when she fell backward with a wheeze.

“My many thanks, Master Alexandra,” he said hurriedly. “Perhaps now would be a good time to retreat!”
Alex opened her mouth to reply but had to pull Blinky beneath her as Bular’s sword swept over their heads, taking a good cut out of the back of AAARRRGGHH’s shoulder as he ducked over them to cover them. Alex left him to look after Blinky and twirled under his arm, using her sword like a spear to try and drive Bular back.

But Bular was pissed the f*ck off. She wasn’t sure if any Hunter had actually managed to land a hit as devastating as her bullet to the eye.

He stabbed at her at the same time that he got another hit on AAARRRGGHH, who, Alex noticed, was moving much more stiffly than before. He and Blinky were distractions; not only did she have to defend herself, but she had to protect them as well, and now one of them was injured.

Blinky, at least, was trying to help, scrambling back and forth to gather up pieces of fallen concrete and throwing them as hard as he could at Bular’s face. It actually was a decent distraction, and Alexandra managed to make the f*cker back away a few feet by slicing at his back, forcing him to turn around to try and fight her.

AAARRRGGHH caught a boulder the size of his head before it could crush Alex, and then dropped it on the ground, instead of, oh, say, f*cking throwing it!

“AAARRRGGHH, what the f*ck? Give us a hand!”

“Pacifist!” he yelled, dodging to the side before a brick hit his shoulder.

“ARE YOU f*ckING KIDDING ME!”

What he’d said was enough to make Alex freeze, just long enough to trip when one of Bular’s sword slammed into her shin guards. The armor flashed blue, blinding everybody for an instant. When her vision came back, Bular’s sword was an inch in front of her face, and she screamed when it sliced across her nose and into her second left eye.

Oh, god, the pain was immense. She’d had sand and fists in her eyes before, but this was so f*cking different. Bular’s laugh was nauseating as she tried to get past the shooting agony, but it was her eye and the sharp pain laced through her entire face. She swung her sword blindly and shot at where his vague, blurry shadow was, but the pain was so distracting that she missed both times. Arms grabbed hers and pulled her away, but they lost their grip when Bular snagged a claw inside her breastplate and pulled her away from the others. She lashed out desperately and elbowed him in the bleeding, glowing socket she had destroyed. The yellow glow of the portal turned to mist in her watering eyes as he dropped her painfully, and she pelted full-out to the wall. Alexandra slammed against Blinky, sending them both tumbling through the portal, and it closed up inches behind AAARRRGGHH’s tail, a bellow of rage following them until it echoed into nothingness.

Alexandra lay where she fell, Blinky’s weight crushing her legs, a hand pressed against her lost eye. She ground her teeth to avoid moaning when AAARRRGGHH carefully lifted her and Blinky to their feet, and she dismissed the armor with a shake of her head. Actually, her whole body was shaking.

“What the f*ck,” she groaned.

“An admirable effort,” said Blinky to her right, sounding as shaken as she did but still patting her on the shoulder.

“You struck a fierce blow,” he continued, with a hint of pride in his voice. “As well as several others. I believe I owe you my life.”

Several fast, bitter thoughts ran through her head them.

Yeah, you owe me a f*cking eye.

Yeah, at least you tried to help.

Yeah, no thanks to AAARRRGGHH.

The last one stuck.

“Not one single book I found mentioned you didn’t fight,” Alexandra said, leaning her arm against the wall of the entrance cave and glaring at the immense troll in front of her. To his credit, he looked uncomfortable.

“Don’t fight…anymore,” AAARRRGGHH rumbled. Alex grimaced.

“I got that.”

Blinky dusted himself off and stood at AAARRRGGHH’s side, appearing both defensive and confused.

“My friend took a vow of peace just before the Battle of Killahead,” he said tightly, looking at Alex’s tense shoulders, the hands curling into fists. “Surely that is common knowledge, even in as strange a place as New Jersey.”
“It’s not.”

“Ah. Well, this is why we have a Trollhunter,” Blinky said calmly, seamlessly falling into Education Mode. “AAARRRGGHH renounced the violent path ages a-“
“So, wait-“
Alexandra held up a hand and halted him. She closed her eyes and shook her head, grimacing as the movement sent a sharp wave through her face as she tried to make that sure she really understood what Blinky meant.

“So you’re saying…this…all of this could have been avoided is AAARRRGGHH were to fight?”

They looked at her like they had no clue why she sounded so mad.

She realized that they actually didn’t understand why she was so angry. Troll culture was so rooted in the glory in battle and fighting that she would never have considered a troll so respected to call himself a pacifist.

The use of the word stung her a little bit, because she had grown up in a society of pacifists. Unlike AAARRRGGHH, who seemed to simply refuse to participate in battle himself, her human family had disagreed with all forms of violence, and it annoyed her to hear AAARRRGGHH, who sounded more hypocritical every second, putting himself in the same box as her former family.

Especially she was directly experiencing the repercussions of his decision.

“All twenty-six Trollhunters have been killed by Bular, all of them,” she hissed. “And this would never have happened if AAARRRGGHH had just got up off his ass and sent Bular back to the hellpit he spawned from centuries ago!”

“Master Alexandra…” Blinky looked back to his friend, an apology in his eyes. “…You do not understand – “

“I chose,” interrupted AAARRRGGHH, quiet but firm. Alex peered at him over Blinky’s shoulder.

“To what? Sit back and let every Hunter be murdered in a war you could have ended half a millennia ago?!”
“I chose,” AAARRRGGHH said, somewhat more forcefully.

“You’re not even a f*cking pacifist!”

Alexandra angrily slashed her sword through the air, forcing the other two to back up.

“A pacifist disagrees with violence completely; but you just sit back and let everybody else do the fighting, don’t you?”
He turned away from her and she could see his shoulders shaking, his fists clenching before he moved them out of her sight, but she wanted him to take a hit; she wanted him to get angry.

Why should he be able to put aside his violent past? Why should he be allowed to disregard and be forgiven for his dark beginnings, the tortures and experiments that all of Gunmar’s stolen children were forced to suffer? He had been taken, he had been changed, but he walked freely and loved openly and was loved in return – whereas if she dared the Change, she’d be murdered on the spot.

Why should he be able to sit by and watch while she was chosen to fight in a battle he could have ended before she was even born, a battle that would most likely kill her, just as it had killed every single Trollhunter before her.

Blinky tried to stop her, and she dodged him. She didn’t know where she got the strength, but she shoved AAARRRGGHH on the arm hard enough to make him stumble sideways.

“I challenge you,” she spat, so angry that her voice shook. AAARRRGGHH stared at her in incredulity before turning his face away.

“Not fighting,” he rumbled.

“’No backing out of a challenge’,” she quoted at him, making his ears dip and his shoulders hunch. The armor was summoned with a thought and Alexandra punched him hard on the arm.

“Fight me!” she yelled.
“NOT FIGHTING!”

AAARRRGGHH roared, slashing his arm a foot over her head and cracking the stone wall to her right, moving so suddenly that she didn’t even have time to flinch. Standing upright he loomed head, shoulders, and chest over her and she instinctively drew her sword, but when she found his eyes – almost directly over her head – her arms froze in horror.

They were jet black, the pupils like pinpricks encased in rings of a sickening green that was spread across his tattoos as well. She had only been a small child the last time she’d seen eyes like those, but they still numbed her to her core.

AAARRRGGHH’s entire body shook with heavy breath and the immense, visceral effort that he was taking not to crush her like a twig. For the first time Alexandra truly appreciated how terrifying a Gumm-Gumm AAARRRGGHH must have been, and what that really meant. How stark the differences were between the quiet, cheerful troll she was familiar with, and the enormous warrior raised in pain and violence. How much visible effort it took to hold that back.

He didn’t refuse to fight just for his own sake, Alexandra realized then, but for the safety of everyone he cared about. His past may have been over, but it was not gone. She understood, now, why everyone in Trollmarket was so gung-ho about AAARRRGGHH refusing to fight. If he truly lost himself again, there would be nothing to stop him and Bular from destroying everything. AAARRRGGHH’s presence in Deya’s army, his mere absence from Gunmar’s, had turned the tide of the war overnight – Alexandra could only imagine in horror what a force he could be if matched with the killer of Merlin’s Champions.

They stood locked, the frozen Changeling and the looming monster, until AAARRRGGHH slowly banished the anger, tears forming in his brightening eyes. Blinky, unafraid, laid two hands on his side and they seemed to melt the tension completely out of AAARRRGGHH’s body.

Alexandra had never been the subject of so shaming a glare, least not by someone who could do it with six eyes. Blinky’s face clearly told her to get the f*ck away from his friend. She’d disrespected a trusted member of Trollmarket. He was shaking and in tears because of her.

Her quiet, whispered sorry was ignored. Alexandra watched them for a minute, deliberating on what she should do, before she picked up her battered, bloodied backpack and left the cave, the crystal staircase appearing at her feet. The blue glow of the crystals illuminated the two she left behind, and she could see AAARRRGGHH’s shoulders shaking before they disappeared from view.

The denizens of Trollmarket looked concerned at her beaten and bloodied appearance, but her face was dark enough that none of them bothered her. She dimly recognized that she wasn’t creating a very open or friendly reputation, but she felt pissed-off and guilty enough that it really didn’t matter, not then.

The door to her quarters opened quietly. Draal was asleep on the nest, one of her books on the musical culture of trolls across Europe open on his chest. Alex dropped her backpack on the floor. The cats scampered around her feet, and then retreated hastily to the bathroom when she yelled wordlessly and slammed her fists into the wall, cracking both it and her knuckles. Draal awoke with a startled yelp and stared helplessly as she punched and punched, only stopping when the skin broke and glowed with the crystal-skin beneath.

Alex stood for a minute, breathing heavily, absently shaking the pain out of her hands. Draal shifted on the nest, and she cut her eyes to him. He froze, caught in her glare.

“Um. What has…?”

Alex took a deep breath, and straightened up.

“You’re healed enough,” she said, so quietly that he had to lean forward. “Please leave.”
Draal stared at her for a moment, then gently peeled the book off his chest and placed it on the floor. Eyes not leaving hers, he stood and backed out of the door, closing it with a sullen thud.

By the time Alex settled down, alone in her bed for the first time in two weeks, she wished she hadn’t asked him to go.

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

"To rid the grass of weed, to get

The whole root,

Thick, tangled, takes a strong mind

And desire -- to make clean, make pure.

The weed, tough

As the rock it leaps against,

Unless plucked to the last

Live fiber

Will plunge up through dark again.

The weed also has the desire

To make clean,

Make pure, there against the rock."

- Lucien Stryk

Alexandra took advantage of her new cat supplies by bagging up a large amount of litter and hairballs and going and buying a dead cat. She realized the irony of this as she brushed hair off of the new vest she acquired, but she needed an apology bribe and there was no way she was bringing one of her cats.

Getting in to see AAARRRGGHH was hard. Not only did she have to avoid Blinky, but she had to slink past Vendel as well, and for someone with eyes completely covered in cataracts he could be surprisingly perceptive. And he was pissed the f*ck off at her.

Actually, everyone was pissed off at her.

Being a rather unorthodox and antisocial Trollhunter hadn’t given her much of a fantastic reputation, even if she was only a few weeks into the job, but to have her slight one of the most respected members of Troll society, a hero who had damn near saved both the troll and human worlds from being overrun by Gumm-Gumms? Yeah. Nobody liked her at the moment.

At least she could admit that she was wrong, which was why she was trying to apologize to AAARRRGGHH. It was a strategic move – she certainly couldn’t gain back either trust or reputation without it – but not apologizing would harden the bitter, pinching seed of guilt that had wormed its way into her heart. She’d become good at ignoring guilt over the years, Changelings had to, but this was different. This time, she’d made a mistake.

It was…strange, but the only one who didn’t seem terribly upset with her was Draal, despite the fact that she’d kicked him out. She hadn’t seen him – and how did a troll that big sneak around? – but the day after the whole ‘the Trollhunter made AAARRRGGHH cry’ sh*tstorm began she found a tiny black kitten curled against the front of her door, and an old, one-eyed orange cat the same evening. Nobody else knew about her cats but Draal. Once she apologized to AAARRRGGHH, she’d have to go and find him. If only to punch him in the face one last time.

Not everyone was ostracizing her; a few of the stall-keepers seemed completely indifferent to the gossip, including a rather forward woman called Bagdwella and another who Alex liked simply because he annoyed Blinky with his eavesdropping habit. Neither of them were very bothered by the clusterf*ck Alex had caused, and when Alex passed Bagdwella’s stall on her way to AAARRRGGHH’s quarters, the troll woman actually called for her help.

It was the same gnome problem that Blinky and AAARRRGGHH had been dealing with two days before, and it had not gotten better. The little bastard had knocked over everything in the shop three times, stolen and rearranged the inventory until the shopkeeper couldn’t find a single item, and would apparently steal things from customers and hoard them in a hole in the wall.

“Fix it, Trollhunter,” Bagdwella said, with a pout in her lip and plead in her eye. Alex got the distinct impression that this was a woman who had asked Kanjigar the Courageous to help her get things down from high shelves, just to watch him flex and stretch.

She had time. From her observations of AAARRRGGHH’s schedule, he wouldn’t go home until very, very late in the morning, when Blinky finally left his library and was persuaded to collapse upon his own bed.

Alexandra approached the stall and saw a little red blur rocket out from behind a bucket, flipping a pair of socks upside down before hiding again in the undersides of a chair. Crouching down, Alex managed only a tiny peek before the rogue gnome flew out from the wood and stole her hairband, laughing like a demented gremlin when she tried to catch it.

Bagdwella managed to cower in an overdramatic and surprisingly beseeching way, and Alexandra had to bite back her amusem*nt. Poor Kanjigar, having to deal with this woman flirting with him. Alexandra’s oversized horns and cut face probably looked a little roguish. Ladies loved a bad boy. Girl. Troll. Whatever.

“Oh, Trollhunter,” Bagdwella simpered, waving a hand at her. “Do catch the little beast!”

“I’m trying,” Alexandra muttered. She lashed out with all four arms when the gnome skittered past again, but only caught air. Something rustled in the front of her new vest, and before she could react, the gnome made off with her amulet.

Kill Bill sirens echoed briefly in Alexandra’s head, before she straightened up and sniffed.

“Finally,” she hissed, focusing every thought and emotion on complete and utter rejection. “Now I can actually get back to my own life!”

The hole in the wall glowed, and there was a high-pitched screech and an ominous, ringing rattle.

“Get your shiny ass back here,” Alex spat, and the amulet rocketed out of the hole, flinging itself and the grabby gnome straight into her chest. She grabbed the gnome with three hands and tucked the amulet back in her pocket with the fourth, and had to endure Bagdwella’s flirts and thanks for a whole five minutes before she extracted herself.

The gnome had bitten her twice, but she squeezed threateningly and it eventually quieted down. Alexandra was already halfway back to her quarters before she realized that she wasn’t actually going to feed it to her cats.

Gnomes were semi-sentient, fast, and could eat through just about anything. They were like co*ckroaches with hats and bad attitude. The gnome in her hands, wary but no longer frantic, stared at her distrustfully as she hurried into her rooms and gently sat it on the nest.

It bolted, but was immediately caught by one of her tabbies. Alex carefully extracted it before any harm was wrought to either creature.

“I don’t want to kill you,” she said to the gnome, setting it again on the nest. It stayed put this time, but backed against the wall and half-covered itself with a fur blanket. It chittered at her, and pointed at the cats.

She shook her head.

“I’m not going to let them eat you,” she reassured it. “What I’m going to do is offer you a job.”

Trollmarket wasn’t the easiest place to sneak around, but Alexandra managed to get out of the residential quarters and through the busiest places without too much trouble or dirty looks. She skirted around the Heartstone and occasionally had to pick her way through bunches of crystals or rock formations to avoid being seen, but by the time she made it to AAARRRGGHH’s section of the caves only a few had spotted her, and no one that knew her personally. She was slower than she usually was, by dint of recent battle injuries, not least a missing eye. Too much light and quick movement hurt her head, and – it was kind of funny, but after so long of being disoriented by four eyes, having only three was suddenly even worse. It still hurt like a motherf*cker, too.

AAARRRGGHH’s quarters were on the very edge of Heartstone Trollmarket, on the opposite side of the cave system from the residential areas. The stone was rougher here, the crystals dimmer, and the crowds thinner. There were occasional storage rooms and private shops, but it was a rather empty area. It was a bit of a lonely place to live, but Alexandra was grateful for its emptiness.

The troll’s actual quarters were tall and open, spacious enough that someone so big wouldn’t feel crowded. The enormous door wasn’t locked, but it didn’t need to be: there was a huge boulder tucked against the outside wall, with drag marks around its base; if AAARRRGGHH wanted privacy, all he needed to do was pull the boulder in front of the door. There were few in Trollmarket who would be able to even budge it.

The rooms were exceptionally dark. There were only a few crystal lights, and most of them were covered with cloth. Bioluminescent algae flowed in faint lines over the walls and ceiling, shaped into soft spirals and swirls. The walls also had several hangings and tapestries and one incongruous Simon and Garfunkel poster, but when Alex looked closer she noticed that they covered up fractures in the stone; she moved a tapestry aside to find an enormous fist-print imbedded the wall, cracks spiderwebbing away from the dent. A quick look affirmed that all of the decorations covered similar damage, but by the look of the lichen formed on them all the marks were old.

A very, very small window pushed into the wall, carved through several feet through the stone. Through it Alex could see the distant glow of the heartstone, and guessed that AAARRRGGHH found as much comfort in the crystal as she did.

There wasn’t much in the way of personal possessions. Alex absently perused through some scrolls and books haphazardly piled in the corners; she tried reading a few letters from AAARRRGGHH’s birth clan, but her Old Trollish was rusty. Though the books had the hint of Blinky around them, as did one of the woolen covers and a small stone stool, the room smelled like AAARRRGGHH and AAARRRGGHH alone.

All in all, it told the story of a troll with anger issues that he was ashamed of, who only used the room for sleeping and privacy when things overwhelmed him.

Alexandra had nothing to do but wait, so she collapsed on the enormous nest and watched the algae glow. It was very quiet here, away from the buzz of the market. There was some source of water around, if the muffled rushing was any indication. Probably one of the underground aquifers.

She practiced her apologies to the dark room, memorizing them until she didn’t falter. It would be unpleasant; AAARRRGGHH, she knew, was just as perceptive as Blinky was, and he had a knack for seeing through deception. If she wanted this to get this right, she needed to be sincere, because there was more riding on this apology than just her relationship with her trainers. A tiny headache was building behind her eyes, and she tiredly rubbed the heel of a palm over her sliced face. She wondered how the injury would translate to her human form.

It was a damn lonely room.

Blinky and Vendel’s concerns were comforting, but after a while AAARRRGGHH found their hovering tiresome. He didn’t lose his temper often; he could probably count the number of times on Blinky’s hands, over the course of four hundred years.

The pain of the memories, the horror of the panic attacks and flashbacks would never leave him, but he had become an expert in reining in his temper and wrestling the memories back, and it slightly needled at him that his friends were so concerned. Granted, he hadn’t lost it at someone in a few centuries, and certainly not to someone he could have considered and acquaintance, but…

His room was the best place for solitude in Trollmarket, simply because nobody went there. Blinky had visited a few times early on, until AAARRRGGHH made it clear that he needed a private space. Everyone respected that, and left him alone. He didn’t want them to hear the cries, or the roars, or the screams, or see the fist-prints in the wall.

Blinky, he knew, realized the difficulties he sometimes had in wrestling with his past, but he respected that AAARRRGGHH could handle it.

He returned to his quarters only to be struck with the faint scent of blood and cat, smells he was quickly learning to associate with Alexandra. The scent got stronger the closer he got, and he realized…

Pungent, spicy cat urine, sweet, soft dead flesh and fur…

The itch of a medicinal salve, the metallic tang of blood and healing crystal tissue…

Cloth and leather, new…

…That the Trollhunter was in his quarters.

AAARRRGGHH entered the door with a quiet huff. The scent of her was everywhere; over the walls, on the floor, on the letters in the corner.

Snoop.

Spy.

Sneak.

“I came to apologize,” Alexandra said, her arms full of cat and her mouth full of lies.

AAARRRGGHH had the impulse to shove her out of the door, but he clenched his fists and nudged Blinky’s stool over to her, standing by the entrance. She didn’t sit, but she put her briberies down.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. To her credit, she sounded genuine. “I should never have gone off at you like that. I took things too personally. I realize that there is a bigger picture that I am only a small part of but I – “
“You should go,” AAARRRGGHH rumbled, moving aside and gesturing to the door. He knew that she felt bad, but he had no need for apologies, especially contrived ones. She was apologizing to get back into his and Blinky’s good graces, and it was an insincerity he had no patience for.

The Trollhunter looked completely derailed. He wondered if she noticed she was rubbing her dead eye. She swayed in the spot for a moment, looking like she couldn’t decide what to do.

“What do you want me to say?”

AAARRRGGHH shook his head.

“Don’t need lies,” he said. “You should go.”

“I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you like that – “
“Everyone gets angry,” AAARRRGGHH replied shortly.

“Yes, but I – “
“Not angry at me.”
“No,” she said, taking a step toward him. Her face flashed with something that wasn’t a lie, and AAARRRGGHH slowly dropped his gesturing hand.

“You didn’t…none of it was your fault,” Alexandra said, and AAARRRGGHH saw something about the words break her suddenly. Her eyes widened, her fingers hovering over the damaged one, and she looked at the floor but didn’t see it.

“None of it was your fault,” she whispered, and he knew it wasn’t about the fight.

“I didn’t think about that, and I took things personally. I never wanted to be a part of this and that battle really scared me.”

The Trollhunter sighed and, after a very long moment of hesitation, sat on the stool AAARRRGGHH had shoved at her, playing with her lower hands.

“And then there was you, and after everything…who you had been…that kind of acceptance I had not expected. I thought they liked you because you were a warrior. Because you fought for them, not just because…they forgave you.”

Alexandra was too composed to cry. She was an accomplished liar and pretender, something that worried Blinky to no end, but AAARRRGGHH, having dealt with Bular, Gunmar, and every Gumm-Gumm and Changeling in the Darklands, was better at detecting the differences between someone who was posturing and someone who was telling the truth. Alexandra looked like someone who had to painfully wrench the truth out of her heart, so entrenched was she in her little cocoon of lies. She nearly shook with the effort it took to open up to him, and he saw how much she both craved that openness and feared it. He knew it well.

“But I shouldn’t have taken that out on you,” she continued. He looked down at her eyes, but she still couldn’t read his face.

“You didn’t deserve me treating you like that. No one deserves that. I judged you for a past you didn’t have a choice in, instead of judging you by the choices you made to fix it.”

Alexandra growled to herself, aggressively rubbing her eye.

“I’ve always…my family has always been treated differently,” she muttered bitterly. “The kind of acceptance you found here…I was…jealous of that.”

There was something that she was carefully not telling him, but he couldn’t be angry at her for it. There were things he didn’t tell Blinky, although he was sure that his friend knew anyway. But some things were too painful to voice. He could describe the screams, he could speak about the fear, but never could he admit that he missed the taste.

Whatever had made her go off at him hurt. He knew the kind of pain that made someone get angry at others. And although her words had cut him, had made him lose himself for a moment, he couldn’t truly be hateful to her. Somehow, she was hurting as well.

AAARRRGGHH’s eyes looked at her hands, and she slowly stowed them in her pockets, as if hoping he wouldn’t notice the extra fingers. Her top pair had four, as was normal. The bottom had five…?

“I should go,” the Trollhunter said quietly. “We both have things to do.”

AAARRRGGHH shook his head, distracted. Alexandra got off of the stool and stood for a moment, before donning the composure AAARRRGGHH was used to her wearing. It was like she had never broken down.

She tried to move forward, but he blocked her, quietly knuckling over to the briberies she had brought. The soft scent of fur clung to his fingers as he picked up the cat and swallowed it whole. He hoped that she understood that she was forgiven.

Alexandra watched him with wide eyes as he ate the rest of the bribes, and then nodded. She left without saying another word, but turned slightly and smiled before closing the door.

He could have sworn her eyes glowed for a second. It may have been the light from the Heartstone.

But AAARRRGGHH couldn’t tear his mind away from those hands.

He knew that she was unusual-looking but he’d never given her much examination. But if he looked – truly looked – at her…

The horns – unnaturally curled and jagged…

The teeth, too long, too sharp…

The human-like hands, and the glow of the eyes…

The extra height, the extra bulk, yet she was more easily injured than any other troll he knew…

The mark of the Darklands was written over her entire being.

She wasn’t a Gumm-Gumm. She was too small for that, relatively unscarred and unmarked, no warrior’s tattoos. Gunmar liked his fighters big and wild.

That left only one other option.

Far down the hall, Alexandra sneezed.

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

“They're just weeds, love, they don't belong anywhere.' Her granddaughter stuck out her bottom lip and furrowed her brow.

'That doesn't seem very nice. Everything belongs somewhere.”

― Kathryn Hughes

The library was temporarily closed in the wake of Blinky’s meltdown.

Or, perhaps meltdown wasn’t the word. Melt-up, maybe, because Blinky certainly seemed excited.

“I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!”

AAARRRGGHH watched him happily scamper about the room, picking up a book here and there and perusing through it before discarding it and finding another.

“This is the most conniving scheme in the history of Trollmarket,” he said feverishly, the crackling of a book’s spine echoing throughout the room. “To have a Changeling as the Trollhunter! It’s so improbable as to be almost unbelievable!”

Blinky dropped the book and danced over to AAARRRGGHH.

“Are you certain? Are you sure of what you saw?”
AAARRRGGHH shrugged uncomfortably.

“It may just have been the light,” he said in Trollish, unable to find the words in English.

“But the sneeze? The fingers! I cannot believe I haven’t noticed them! You’re sure there were five?”
AAARRRGGHH sighed.

“Five,” he said. “Bottom hands.”

Blinky nodded, his eyes wide and excited.

“And from our observations, there can be no other explanation,” he said. “Her menacing appearance; her unusual anatomy; her dependence on secrecy and outright lies! My friend, you have uncovered something fantastic!”
AAARRRGGHH didn’t feel that way. He’d told Blinky of his suspicions, of course he had, but he didn’t have to feel good about it. After the brief, reflexive pang of hatred that came with the mention of Changelings had passed he actually felt a little bad. Alexandra wasn’t too terrible a person – she’d even apologized, sincerely, for hurting him – and whatever anyone said, she was the Trollhunter. The amulet had chosen her, Changeling or not, and he believed in the amulet’s choices. The Soothscryer had judged her and found her worthy. She’d saved both himself and his friend from Bular, and had spared Draal’s life, all within her first few weeks. As far as Changelings went, she wasn’t one of the worst.

But they had to know. As much as AAARRRGGHH didn’t like it, his friend was right. They needed a Trollhunter they could trust.

And if Alexandra was in league with Bular and his father, it could not be her.

Blinky restrained himself enough to walk through the market without causing a fuss. He knew the commotion and panic that would spring up if he started going on about Changelings, and his many failed conspiracy-hunts had taught him to be, if not cautious, then at least quiet.

They made their way to Rotgut’s with little fanfare and procured a gaggletack without letting the keepers of the emporium know who the artifact was intended for. AAARRRGGHH hid it away in his mane of hair, since he was currently on better terms with Alexandra than Blinky.

Blinky had been informed of the Trollhunter’s apology, but it had been swept aside by the ‘Changeling Trollhunter’ conspiracy. He knew that it was still in the back of Blinky’s mind, however, and he also knew that Blinky had not forgiven Alexandra as quickly as himself. Blinky was not usually one to hold grudges, but when someone – anyone - threatened or slighted AAARRRGGHH he could be as fierce as a rampaging Nullhunter.

Alexandra possibly being a Changeling did not help.

AAARRRGGHH and Blinky retreated to the library, where the Trollhunter was bound to resurface. Word around the market was that she had helped Bagdwella end her gnome problem just the day before. She was active, and both of them knew that she couldn’t stay away from the library.

AAARRRGGHH removed the gaggletack from his hair and tossed it between his hands, settling down amongst the piles of books. Blinky smiled at him as he absently organized.

“Certainly an interesting situation,” he said quietly. AAARRRGGHH merely hmm’d in response.

“I suppose it all falls down to how she reacts to us knowing, and how it will affect her role as Trollhunter.”

He nodded in agreement, and held out the gaggletack for Blinky to examine. His friend rubbed it between his palms, tapping it lightly before he sighed and dropped it behind a pile of scrolls.

“Are you sure you are alright, my good friend? You have been unusually quiet.”

“Thinking,” replied AAARRRGGHH, truthfully. He’d been considering Alexandra’s words.

She’d been sympathetic to his past. She said that she understood being different, that she’d been jealous of the new life he’d found.

Everyone hated Changelings. They were the Other, the outcasts, the abominations. Even Gumm-Gumms, creatures of conditioning and experimentation themselves, were free to loathe the Changelings as much as they wanted, because at least they were still trolls. But Changelings didn’t have a place in the world, belonging to both and neither at the same time. Not troll, but not human. Goblins got more clout than Changelings.

As a whole they were cunning, unpredictable, ruthless, and utterly untrustworthy. Even if Alexandra had, so far, proven herself to be a decent person, was that enough? ‘Changeling’ might be unforgivable, even though AAARRRGGHH felt hypocritical thinking it.

He looked up when Blinky laid a hand on his arm and smiled reassuringly.

“I imagine this must be difficult for you,” he murmured. AAARRRGGHH leaned gently against his shoulder and breathed in.

The thick smell of old paper and vellum, the bitter taste of ink

Stone and crystal, warm and familiar, and the shifting of another body beside his

A sour miasma of uncertainty, doubt, confusion, and hope

“I’m fine,” he said, truthfully. “Bad memories, but good friends.”

Blinky’s smile was radiant and brightened up the darker spaces in AAARRRGGHH’s heart.

“Do not worry, my dear companion,” he said warmly. “This is a necessary intervention. We can only hope that it does not proceed unfavorably, for ourselves or for our Trollhunter.”

Blinky relaxed himself by puttering about the library, trying to get things re-organized. AAARRRGGHH remained deep in thought, until several hours passed and Alexandra finally entered the room, her arms laden with books and her notepad.

Blinky softly shut the door behind her and AAARRRGGHH shook himself from his thoughts, remaining as nonchalant as he could. Alexandra gave him and Blinky a hesitant smile before laying her books on Blinky’s table.

“I’ve finished these,” she said. Blinky hmm’d. Apparently actually seeing her again reminded him of how nettled he was at her. AAARRRGGHH found himself looking over her, as if he’d find another clue that they’d missed before.

Alexandra briefly glanced at him before looking Blinky square in the eyes, slipping her notebook into her arms. AAARRRGGHH wasn’t sure if his friend realized how tense his shoulders were.

“If you’ve got a problem, Blinky, you might as well say it. I’ve already apologized, but you still have the right to be angry with me. Just don’t expect me to suddenly roll over and fall at your feet.”

Blinky grinned wryly.

“I would hardly expect any less,” he replied. “How, may I ask, is your eye?”
Alexandra stole one of his pencils from the desk and sat down in the closest chair.

“Gone, thank you for asking. And you, AAARRRGGHH? You okay?”
AAARRRGGHH, caught off guard, tried to smile.

“Um. Fine.”

“Good,” she said, and cracked open her notes. “Are we going to get back to work, or do we need another moment to brood? Because I have a few questions about Grimholdt the Gruesome’s tactics in the Battle of Seven Waters.”

Blinky shifted uncomfortably, trying to look authoritative and intimidating, which was difficult when Alexandra was both bigger and stronger than him and had taken complete control over the conversation.

“Actually,” he said, “I was hoping to ask you a few questions. The first of which being when you were planning on telling us.”
Alexandra raised an eyebrow.

“Telling you…what?”
AAARRRGGHH moved then, closer to Blinky so that he could provide cover if needed. Alexandra – ever watching – noticed. She didn’t tense, but his practiced eyes saw her limbs still in preparation for a fight. They needed to be cautious whether she was their friend or not. She had shot Bular in the face, after all.

Blinky reached behind the pile of scrolls and closed his lower right hand around the gaggletack.

“That you are a Changeling,” he said steadily.

Alexandra jolted as if from electric shock. She held her notebook tightly enough to crinkle the pages, and the pencil she had stolen from Blinky snapped in half.

“What did you just say?”

“The evidence is undeniable,” Blinky said. A little bit of his conspiracy-fervor crept into his voice. “Judging from both your appearance and behavior it is clear that you have been tricking us this whole time!”

“Are you…are you f*cking kidding me?!”

“How else do you explain your savage mien, your lack of family records, your tendency to lie and deceive? There can be no other explanation! You are a Changeling!”
“I’m the goddamn Trollhunter,” Alexandra shouted, jumping to her feet as Blinky raised the gaggletack. Her entire body was shaking, her teeth set in a snarl; her eyes, to AAARRRGGHH’s discomfort, were bright with tears.

“Yes, and that is incredible enough in and of itself! We will deal with that later…”
“Blinky, she looks mad,” AAARRRGGHH said, for all the good it did.

“…But now, it is time for you to reveal yourself!”

Blinky jumped around the desk, gaggletack held before him like a blade, and Alexandra dodged the artifact and roughly pushed him away. AAARRRGGHH caught him and held him steady.

The smell of anger, the heaviness of pain, the salt from tears and the scab over her eye

The sound of her teeth grinding, a tiny whine in the back of her throat, the bitter taste of betrayal in the air

“You….y-you…”

She was so angry that she could barely speak, and with a filthy glance at the both of them she bolted out of the room. They followed immediately, quickly drawing attention from the shops and stalls in the halls.

“It is useless to run, foul beast!” Blinky yelled. AAARRRGGHH was too busy knuckling around the crowds to roll his eyes, but he was very quickly discerning that his friend’s attitude was not helping the situation.

“f*ck off!” Alexandra spat, shoving through a group of trolls whose conversation quickly petered out in the wake of the Trollhunter’s sharp elbows. They were heading toward the Heartstone, and AAARRRGGHH groaned at the thought of bringing Vendel into this mess.

“You cannot deny it, you cannot refuse! The whole of Heartstone Trollmarket will see for themselves – “
Alexandra whipped around, the light of the great crystal enflaming her face, and she snatched the gaggletack from Blinky’s waving hand.

It did absolutely nothing.

She shoved it under Blinky’s nose, taking advantage of their height differences to step forward and menace him and completely ignoring AAARRRGGHH’s presence as Blinky’s backup.

“Now do I look like a f*ckING Changeling to you?”

Blinky didn’t answer, as shell-shocked as he was. Around them, several of the bystanders recognized the artifact. Whispers began to circulate throughout the hall, and both AAARRRGGHH and Blinky shifted uncomfortably.

“But…I was so sure – everything suggested that – “

“Oh, no, no,” Alexandra snarled. “You cannot deny it, you cannot refuse! You. Were. Wrong.”

“What is the meaning of this?”

Vendel was tracing his way through the Heartstone’s crystals, and AAARRRGGHH felt a shooting of dread. This would not go well.

“Are you on yet another one of your conspiracy hunts, Blinkous? What has taken you now – oh!”

Vendel froze, his eyes focused on the gaggletack in Alexandra’s shaking hand.

“A Changeling?” he hissed. “You actually accused our Trollhunter of being a Changeling?!”

“Vendel mad?”

AAARRRGGHH flinched back when Vendel’s eyes snapped toward him.

“Mad would be a considerable improvement! Blinkous Galadrigal! How could you be so foolish?”
“There was immense evidence,” Blinky retorted, the conviction utterly gone from his voice under the scathing gazes of the Trollhunter and Vendel and a good portion of Trollmarket.

“I thought…everything pointed toward…”

“I trusted you,” said Alexandra. AAARRRGGHH couldn’t help but hang his head. Blinky lowered his face and stepped back into his friend’s chest.

The Hunter bared her sharp teeth.

“Every day I’ve been here you’ve been dogging me, trying to find out lies, haven’t you? Since the first time we met you haven’t trusted me, have you? Well I goddamn trusted you, and you decided that…what? I wasn’t enough like you, I was too different, so you automatically concluded that I was some sort of lying half-breed thing?”
She reeled back her arm and threw the gaggletack at Blinky’s face, where it caught him on the cheek before AAARRRGGHH could catch it. He looked shocked and immensely guilty, but when he stammered an apology Alexandra turned on her heel and left without acknowledging him, leaving them alone with an angry Vendel and a crowd of disappointed trolls.

Vendel stomped over to them and bent down until he was at Blinky’s level.

“You had better find a way to fix this, Blinkous,” he said. His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking it for calm. “I shudder to think of what would come to our home should we have a vengeful Trollhunter on our hands. Hmph.”

The tapping on Vendel’s crystal staff echoed in his wake as he walked back into the Heartstone. Over the heads surrounding them AAARRRGGHH could see Alexandra stomping away, damaged notebook and pencil still clutched in her hands as she pushed through the market, wiping her eyes before disappearing around a corner.

AAARRRGGHH felt horrible. They had never seriously considered what would happen if they were wrong.

“Another conspiracy, eh, Blinky?” said Bagdwella with a nasty smile. “You certainly seem to have messed up this one.”

“I was trying to protect our home,” he answered vehemently, picking the gaggletack off of the ground.

“If she had been a Changeling imagine what could have happened!”
“Oh, yes,” said the woman wryly. “I’m sure the entire market would have collapsed, the cat meat would have soured, the crystals would have gone dark!”

“Changeling or not, she still has been lying – “
“Time to go,” said AAARRRGGHH firmly, grabbing Blinky underneath his arms and physically carrying him away from further confrontation.

“AAARRRGGHH!”

“Feel bad,” he moaned, looking at Blinky’s upside-down face. “Need to apologize.”
Blinky’s small, blunt horns rubbed against his chest as he nodded.

“Indeed,” he said grimly. “We have…I have made a grave misinterpretation, one that could cost us dearly. Apologizing is the least we can do.”
Distantly, there was a familiar roar of rage, followed by the crashing of wood against stone. Blinky shrank slightly in AAARRRGGHH’s arms.

“But perhaps it can wait a bit.”

Alexandra marched in a huff back to her quarters, angrily clenching her notebook in her hand, until she closed the door and let the anger fall away. She carefully put the book in one of her piles, stepped around several cats who wanted food, and gave a soft whistle.

“Gnome,” she breathed. “Hey.”

The gnome, hiding in her bathroom, quickly peaked around the doorframe. The cats scattered as Alexandra crouched down.

“Good job,” she said quietly. “May I have it?”
The gnome chittered for a moment until she offered it the stub of Blinky’s pencil. It chewed on it appreciatively and Alexandra reached behind it, pulling the gaggletack, the real one, out from its little hoard.

The horseshoe sparkled with blue lightening the second it touched her bare hand. She hated these things. Her entire body ached and itched like it wanted to transform, but while she was in her troll form it was not obligatory, and the gaggletack didn’t quite affect her as much as she knew it could. Her unique situation with her familiar probably confused its magic, and in a moment the lightening died out with a rather disgruntled fzzt.

The gnome and the cats were all cowering. Alexandra stood and stowed the gaggletack inside her vest.

“You did very well,” she said to the gnome, giving it another pencil. It reached out and snatched it before hiding back in its hole.

And so did I. She’d not only allayed any suspicions of her being a Changeling, but also had put Blinky in such an awkward position that now he was trying to get back into her good graces. Any oddities would be written off as the strangeness of New Jersey trolls, and her trainer was no longer asking questions. It had been a good day.

She spent the rest of the evening staring at the pages of her books without taking in a single thing, and then finally allowed herself to think when she settled down for bed.

Shifting into human form, she curled on top of her nest, hugging her knees to her chest and allowing herself a brief moment of agony. It had been a successful day, yes, but now she knew how her newest acquaintances felt about a Changeling Trollhunter. And it hurt. She could never be fully open with them. She could never completely trust them. She could never be honest with them.

God, it hurts.

She didn’t lay in bed for long. As much as she wanted to stay curled up and crying, she also felt like punching something, and it was barely the beginning of the day. So she shifted back and stalked to the Forge, nodding to the market residents who apologized for Blinky’s behavior. Apparently this sort of thing had happened before, although he’d never gone so far as to offer such an insult to the actual Trollhunter.

The Forge had a few people sparring in it when she entered, but they hastily beat an exit until she waved at them to continue their training. Now that she’d gotten the majority of Trollmarket sympathetic to her, she needed to show them that she was on their side, one of them and willing to be friendly and helpful. Not only would it make Blinky think twice about questioning her again but it would, in time, provide her with a number of allies if things really turned sour.

She practiced a few sets that Draal had taught her and relished at the burn in her arms, the feeling of her blade slicing through the air. It was strange how she had been so reluctant at first, considering how at home she felt in her armor now. The true responsibilities of being a Trollhunter were still daunting, but this – the music of the blade, the exertion of the forms, the stretch in her muscles and the Forge’s heat in her lungs – was something that pulsed in her blood so beautifully.

Hopefully existing in Trollmarket would get easier, too. She’d have to be more open with Blinky, and that really didn’t appeal to her, but now that she’d firmly established herself as both a warrior and, very conclusively, a troll she should be able to give herself wholly to her new duties.

She noticed with one eye a few of the trainees on the other side of the Forge watching her as she lunged, and she grinned as she swung into a strong block.

Keep looking, gentlemen.

That was certainly another way to gain popularity. She wasn’t that pretty of a human anymore, but apparently trolls appreciated large horns and musculature, and Alexandra was more than willing to use that to her advantage. She parried an invisible hit and seamlessly meshed the end of the form into the beginning of another, and lost herself to the flow of the movements and the pounding of her hearts.

She ignored the time passing, and the eventual egress of the other trainees. Her forms took her around the Forge, over the floor and across the hidden Soothscryer. Suddenly the amulet on her breastplate glowed, and the Forge went haywire.

The floor heaved like an earthquake, the walls erupting with blades and flaming arrows. Alexandra dismissed her sword as the floor tilted dangerously and hang to grab onto the edge to keep from falling.

What the actual f*ck!

There was nobody around, nobody who could have activated the Death Arena, which put sabotage and assassination out. Alexandra searched wildly for an explanation that didn’t end in Oops, I broke the Forge! and had to finally conclude that something had simply malfunctioned.

According to The History of Heartstone Trollmarket, the Forge was built with a kill-switch inside the mouth of the Soothscryer.

For f*ck’s sake…

Alexandra snarled inarticulately as she pulled herself on the edge of the tilted floor, jumping onto a blade as it moved upward. Her short legs couldn’t leap very far, but her arms and upper body made up for the deficiency. She rode the blade until it reached its height, and then scrambled onto the raised body of the Soothscryer, grabbing onto its ledge and hoisting herself up. She stuck her upper left hand into the swirling mouth of the statue

and

fell.

It was tremendously loud; the glow of the Soothscryer’s eyes blinded her with red light, until she landed in a crouch, her face screwed up and her hands over her ears. When she opened her eyes, she saw galaxies.

Oh, sh*t, she thought. I’m in the f*cking Void.

“Unwelcome.”
“Intruder.”

“Impure.”

“Don’t call me that,” Alexandra said darkly.

Balls of light shot at her and she rolled to dodge them; they glanced off her armor but she hesitated to summon her sword, in case she pissed off any of the dead f*cking Trollhunters. The Void was a facsimile of the Hero’s Forge, down to the markings on the floors, but the red was replaced with the bright blue glow of the amulet’s magic, and above the heads of the dead Trollhunters swirled an entire starry sky of monstrous constellations and flickering lights.

“A Changeling is the Trollhunter!”
“Abomination…”

“She has no place here…”
“Hey, assholes, you summoned me,” Alex muttered, forcibly slapping away another glowing ball.

“Such disrespect,” said a familiar voice. The balls of light joined together and a bulky troll appeared, transparent and glowing but still immense.

She’d forgotten how big Kanjigar was. She could look him in the eye, but his shoulders were nearly as broad as her arms were long. He aimed a bare-armed hit at her head and she summoned her sword to cut him off; the blow glanced off his arm as he turned into the swing and tried to grab at her head. She ducked and got him in the chest with a lower fist, just as his hand closed around the handle of the sword and wrenched it from her.

“Yeah, well. I’ve always had a problem with authority,” Alex murmured. Kanjigar’s eyes smiled, and she was relieved that he seemed more amused by her than disgusted.

“You’ve done well to prove yourself,” he said, giving Alexandra a little thrill of pride. “Despite having achieved it through trickery and deception.”

Alex crossed her arms.

“You know, I almost apologized for making you come here without your armor, but I think I won’t.”

Kanjigar appeared as his dead body had, with a bared chest and simple shorts and loincloth, unique among the Trollhunters clad in full armor. She did notice that he had both elbows again.

“Crude.”

“How dare she…”

“We are here to offer you council,” Kanjigar said, interrupting the offended tirade. Alexandra got the impression that several of the past Trollhunters were a lot more sensitive than they really needed to be.

“We’ve been watching you; waiting for you to prove yourself.”

“That’s…I don’t like that,” Alex muttered. Kanjigar smirked.

“You do not have to,” he said. “You have proven yourself to be…more than you were made to be,”

The chamber echoed his last living words to her. With a wave of his hand, a flow of mist turned into an image of her jumping between Blinky and Bular. Her mist-self kicked Bular away from the smaller troll, and then the imaged changed to her shooting him in the face.

“Unorthodox!”

“Untraditional!”

“Effective,” said Kanjigar. “The Trollhunter is rooted in lore and tradition, but I will admit that your methods are successful.”

The image changed again, and Alexandra watched herself glow her eyes at AAARRRGGHH, and instruct the gnome in his task to switch out the gaggletack for the horseshoe.

“Even though they may not be as honorable as we would prefer.”

“I have to protect myself,” Alexandra said, quietly but without wavering. “You know how they reacted, if you were watching. We’re liars for a reason.”

“That is true,” Kanjigar said, “But this is not a responsibility you can take on alone. The role of Trollhunter is a solitary one, but the others can become your greatest assets, should you attempt to actually trust them.”

“You pushed your son away,” Alexandra pointed out, making Kanjigar jerk back slightly. “I would have thought you would be more than understanding about my choice to go it alone.”
Kanjigar frowned at her, the blue glow of his eyes narrowing. His fingers tightened on her sword, solid and small in his ghostly hand.

“I chose not to drag my son into my battles,” he said. “There is a difference between keeping distance to protect someone, and refusing connections out of pride and fear.”

“That doesn’t make your actions right,” Alex murmured. She and Kanjigar stared it off for a few moments, before silently agreeing to disagree. Kanjigar shifted the sword in his grip, before hanging it in the air and letting it go back to Alexandra.

“Continue your training, Hunter, but try to trust your allies.”
She looked away. She knew she’d have to open up a bit, but to actively trust? More than she already did? What would that entail? How much would she have to give up?

“I understand that your past and nature make it difficult…”
Understatement.

“…Blodwen.”
“That’s not my name,” Alex hissed, spinning around and slashing her sword through his arm, where it passed through harmlessly. The strength of the swing pulled at her shoulder, and she panted for a second, glaring at Kanjigar with hard eyes.

“We see all, Trollhunter,” he said, almost gently. “There are no secrets here.”

Alex inhaled deeply and straightened up, shaking off the anger.

“That’s not my name,” she repeated, calmer. Kanjigar inclined his head, but one of the other Trollhunters flashed their eyes.

“It used to be.”

Alexandra noticed that it was the four-armed, six-eyed Hunter, who was probably insulted that a member of her sister clan had been taken as a Changeling.

“I’m not talking about this,” Alex said. “We are not talking about this. Is there anything else you have for me, or can I get back to the land of the living?”

Kanjigar nodded grimly, and floated back. Alexandra tore her eyes off him and focused on the red of the Forge, the heat and the dusty smell that was absent in the Void. She felt herself starting to fall away.

“I’ll tell Draal you said hello, shall I?” she yelled at the former Hunter, just as the Void faded around her and she landed in the Hero’s Forge with a crash and a bruised tailbone.

She hadn’t…

Damn, she was shaken. Kanjigar knew where to hit where it hurt.

It took effort not to collapse, but she was in a public place and didn’t want anyone wondering why she was crying. She forced the name and its memories out of her mind, refusing to let herself feel anything. A few deep breaths later the armor was dismissed, and she opened her eyes to see Blinky and AAARRRGGHH standing on the end of the bridge.

She really didn’t want to talk to anybody now, and it showed on her face. Blinky held up two of his hands in surrender.

“I…realize that our presence is not welcome,” he said quietly. “But please accept this offering. I believe you may find it useful.”

Alex stepped forward to take it. She glanced up at AAARRRGGHH, standing behind Blinky like a giant mossy bodyguard; he gave her a little smile.

The offering was nothing more than a large iron key and a piece of paper with a scribble of directions. Alexandra didn’t ask and Blinky didn’t elaborate, and he and his companion left without another word.

Her urge to punch something had only grown bigger since the beginning of the day, but she had to admit that she was curious.

The directions, written in a beautiful slanted runes, led her to the residential district, although in a different section of the caves than her own quarters. She wound through immense corridors and dark hallways, the only noise coming from quiet rivulets of water that ran down the walls, creating mist around the crystals embedded in the stone. At the very end of the farthest hall was a wide stone door, to which the key Blinky had given her fit perfectly. She unlocked the door and cautiously peered into the rooms.

They were dark, the crystals smashed, as was tradition when someone died. A small lamp of glowworms provided the only light. The air smelled damp and warm, but empty. Unlived in. The everyday debris and personal items of the previous occupant had been left untouched, and in the dust Alexandra smelled Kanjigar.

She wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was he giving her Kanjigar’s rooms? She already had her own, though they were getting a bit crowded with cats, and she had a few problems with living in the quarters of her deceased predecessor.

Although…he could see her now. It probably would annoy him if she took over his rooms. Perhaps the idea did have merit.

Alexandra stepped further into the room and turned, and then saw what Blinky was really giving her.

The walls surrounding the door, from floor to ceiling, were covered with books, several of them peeling with age, half-burnt, or even bloodstained. There were hundreds, and each was unique.

They’d given her Kanjigar’s library.

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

“But he who dares not grasp the thorn

Should never crave the rose.”

― Anne Brontë

Alexandra spent the rest of the evening, on through the night, and into the next morning tearing through Kanjigar’s library. It was an incredible collection – nearly as vast and diverse as that of Blinky’s brother’s. There were anthologies of poems and sagas that Kanjigar liked –

- And damn, was it weird to think of Kanjigar in both past and present tense –

- and books of obscure lore; personal diaries of previous Trollhunters; the short, bloody journal of a Gumm-Gumm that ominously cut off in the middle of the page; several incongruous human comics and graphic novels; pages of construction details for pieces of Heartstone Trollmarket that Alex guessed Kanjigar had been helping with; letters from people who needed the Trollhunter’s help, and from others thanking him; Supernatural-esque journals of how to defeat certain creatures; sixteen beautifully illustrated manuscripts, both human and troll; stone tablets covered in swirling carvings and indecipherable runes; the entire Lord of the Rings series and accompanying books; a bunch of rocks delicately carved with notes from a goblin spy; a page from what Alex really, really hoped was a Codex Regius; two books that she knew by smell were bound in human skin, and another that was bound in troll skin, which was as impressive as it was gruesome, because the troll would have had to have been alive at the time of the skin-removal; and a much-annotated list of children suspected stolen to the Darklands (her name wasn’t on it), to name a few. It was heaven.

It was a Library of Alexandria, in a pocket dimension underneath a small California town. In fact, she was sure that one of the scrolls had come from the Library of Alexandria.

Blinky could spit in her face and kick one of her cats right now and she’d forgive him immediately.

She left only once to get more lamps and a pot of tea, but as soon as she approached the first shelf she lost all sense of time.

Hopefully Kanjigar wouldn’t mind her digging through his stuff, but if he did, it was too bad. She’d landed a punch on his chest and he was a f*cking ghost, so he could deal with her reading his love letters to Draal’s delightfully crude mother.

It was weird. She was looking through the personal items of a dead man, but a dead man who could still berate her for it.

This will be entertaining, Alexandra thought, deliberately setting her tea cup down on a hand-drawn journal of medicinal plants and tapping her feet to one of his Santana records. She got comfortable on Kanjigar’s neatly-made bed, now stacked with disorganized books, and only was pried from the room when Blinky and AAARRRGGHH came to collect her mid-morning, bearing food and apologies.

She was in a good enough mood that Blinky was ‘forgiven’ for the whole Changeling debacle, and they finally put the incident aside and settled in the Forge for a proper training session.

Blinky was convinced that her sword skills, such as they were, would at least allow her to get away from her opponent. So, she was banned from using the sword for the next several sessions. His lessons instead included, but were not limited to: rock climbing, dodging fireballs, being attacked from all sides by larger opponents, being attacked from all sides by smaller opponents, and then archery, which she actually rather liked even though he didn’t let her try to use two bows at once.

“Where in the hell would I need to know how to climb a damn rock?” Alexandra yelled, during one of their more difficult sessions. Her body wasn’t made for extreme acrobatics, dammit.
“Your fights will not be restricted to only Bular, Master Alexandra! What will you do if confronted, for example, by a hydrabeast? One cut, and you will have a multitude of opponents instead of just one!”

“Then I set it on fire.”

“Where will you get matches,” Blinky asked dryly.

Alexandra dodged a rock, caught it, and threw it at his head.

“A hydrabeast has weaknesses under its scaly armor,” Alex said, remembering her texts and making Blinky grin even as he ducked. “Strike when its scales are flared, and then kill it.”

“Excellent, Master Alexandra! Just be sure to – “
Alex didn’t hear his next words, as she was barreled over by a stone arm from behind.

“Ah. Yes. Do not get distracted from your fight while trying to think of how to defeat your opponent,” Blinky said.

Alexandra huffed and picked herself up, throwing herself at a large blade as it flew past her. Digging her claws into the rock, she pulled herself to the top of the blade and ran along its flat edge, and then jumped onto a moving level when the blade reached its zenith.

“And…oof! You’ll find all of these opponents in Arcadia?”
“Oh, surely not,” said Blinky, as he activated another part of the Death Arena and forced her to dodge a swath of flaming arrows. One nicked the edge of a horn.

I swear if I lose another goddamn eye…

“You’ll be hard-pressed to find a rust-troll or Batmugg here, but that does not mean that one may not come, or that you might not be called away to a different locale. As Trollhunter, your protection spreads over the whole of the human and troll worlds, and you most likely will have to travel extensively to fulfill your duties.”

“Your domain stretches farther than Arcadia,” said a whispy voice, one that Alex wasn’t entirely sure was not in her head.

“Not you assholes again,” she hissed, as the red of the Forge began to dim. She quickly jumped to the main floor and ran over to Blinky, surprising him when she grabbed him by the arms. Surely they wouldn’t take her and Blinky. The darkness and stars receded as quickly as they had appeared, and after a moment she let go of the other troll, who looked completely stunned.

“You were summoned?”

Alex nodded, still giving the Forge a careful look-over. When she glanced back at Blinky, he had his hands over his mouth and something suspiciously twinkling in his eyes.

“What?”
“The Trollhunters of old – they gave you council?”
“In…a manner of speaking,” Alex murmured. In the distance, she heard the tapping of Vendel’s staff. “They mostly insulted me and offered bad advice.”

Blinky rolled his eyes.

“Only you, I believe, would take being summoned by our most esteemed warriors as a session of ‘bad advice’, and refuse another summons.”
“I’m busy,” Alex said, and threw her sword across the arena, where it lodged in the side of a stone statue’s head.

“And you are about to become busier.”

Alex and Blinky turned to the bridge, where Vendel was slowly making his way across. AAARRRGGHH was following him, looking unusually glum.

“Ah, Vendel! Perhaps you would like to see how our Trollhunter – “
“I know how she progresses,” interrupted the larger troll, completely bypassing Blinky and standing directly in front of Alexandra. She refused to back down, even though his cataract-sprinkled eyes seemed to bore right through her.

“What I am interested in is how she manages on an actual assignment.”
Blinky, not to Alexandra’s surprise, did not argue but instead clutched his hands behind his back. She and he both knew that it was far past time for her to do some actual troll-hunting.

“Your physical training goes well, Trollhunter, but you must be able to assist in any situation. Many will not involve battles or fights, but will be tests of how you deal with people and how sound your judgement may be.”

“What’s the assignment,” Alex asked. Vendel briefly looked over at Blinky.

“The Killahead Bridge, as you may know, was torn apart and scattered, to various locations around the world, some of which even I don’t know about.”
“Has something gone wrong,” Blinky asked. Vendel nodded grimly.

“I have lost communication with one of my contacts in England. She was supposed to send me an updated census of trolls in the United Kingdom, but has not answered my letters or scrying-calls. I want our new Trollhunter to check on her and ensure that both her post and what she guards are secure.”

Alexandra nodded, already gearing herself up for the assignment.
“Alright,” she said. “Where in England does she live?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

The museum of Arcadia loomed in the night like a particularly bad idea.

I guess this is part of the test.

It certainly was going to be a test, because she and Blinky needed to go into the museum, and Alexandra had no idea if Nomura would be there or not. She hoped to hell that she didn’t have to encounter the other Changeling, especially since Nomura would possibly recognize her troll form.

Blinky wouldn’t be swayed from accompanying her, and when AAARRRGGHH found out that his friend was going he decided that he was coming too, and Alexandra wanted to claw their eyes out. She could run a recon mission, but not with two other trolls, neither of whom was particularly good at being sneaky. She was feeling testy already.

The reason they had to go to the museum was to find some sort of text that hinted at locations of some of the Bridge’s pieces. To prevent discovery or betrayal, there was nobody who actually knew the locations of more than a few pieces; instead, they knew where to find clues to some of the pieces. It was horrendously complicated and convoluted, but effective; in order to put together the bridge someone would have to go through dozens of people and go on hundreds of scavenger hunts. At a time like this it was frustrating, but Alexandra could appreciate the complexity.

“Why not just smash the pieces,” she muttered later that evening, when night had fallen and she, Blinky, and AAARRRGGHH were scoping out the museum. “Just turn it to dust and scatter it on a beach somewhere. Boom. No need to guard f*cking dust.”

“The Killahead Bridge is an object of immense power,” replied Blinky. “Each stone is seeped with magic. One cannot simply destroy it.”

AAARRRGGHH, ineffectively hiding behind a short tree, nodded in agreement of his friend.

“Would if we could,” he rumbled.

“Exactly. Now, should we proceed, Master Alexandra?”
Alex kept her eyes on the museum but nodded. She’d had them waiting and watching the place for almost two hours, just to see if anyone came or went, and since no one had shown she really couldn’t put it off for much longer. Her lower hands worried over the loading of the little gun she’d brought, in case she needed to shoot Nomura in the face.

“Come on,” she whispered, stowing it in her back pocket. “And stay quiet.”

She led them around the back of the building. From her other pocket she felt a little stone amulet, something Blinky had gotten for her from a shop. It was inscribed with a sigil that meant sight, and then violently chiseled over. Apparently it was supposed to cause any cameras to go dark in its presence, but Alexandra knew it was unnecessary. She’d only been to the museum once, but once had been enough to see that the cameras were not in operation. It was a good thought, though.

She jimmied open a window just barely large enough for her to fit through. She and Blinky had to find a door for AAARRRGGHH, which made her grit her teeth, but she stayed silent about his and Blinky’s presences. Two of the doors were alarmed, but the third, a maintenance door hidden behind an over-crowded archiving room, was not. Together again, Alex led them silently through the halls, her ears strained for any sound. They turned the corner to a hallway under construction, and that’s when the smell hit her.

Goblins.

It was faint – probably from the other end of the museum – but the scent was distinct and put her on edge. She backtracked and took them around another section of the building, going at an almost snail-like pace until they reached a small room dedicated to manuscripts. She shoved Blinky forward and he looked around before silently pointing at a large book under a glass case.

Luckily for them, the museum had been more concerned with architecture than security, and Alex lifted the glass case off without any alarms sounding. Blinky paged through the book, eyes roaming at impressive speeds, and Alex stood guard with AAARRRGGHH at the doorway.

She didn’t like the presence of goblins here. When she first visited the museum over a year ago, they hadn’t been in the museum, or at least she hadn’t smelled any evidence of them. So it was a new development, and Alex wondered what had changed. Whatever it was and whatever Nomura was getting up to, it wouldn’t be good for Trollmarket. Everything seemed to be happening in Arcadia; understandable, since it stood directly above the largest population of trolls in North America, but by Alexandra’s count there were three changelings in the town, as well as goblins, and the son of Gunmar. Wherever Bular was, something important was happening. She knew that they were looking for ways to get the Bridge back together, but had they really found enough pieces to begin building?

The disappearance of Vendel’s contact was an even worse omen if the actual rebuilding of the Bridge was becoming a reality.

A very soft aha drew Alex’s attention away from the deserted hallway. Blinky had found what he needed.

Alex shushed him when he began to explain what he had found, and carefully replaced both the manuscript and the case it was under. The three of them tiptoed through the empty museum again and encountered nothing of concern, until the last hallway before the maintenance door.

The scent of Bular hit her like a brick to the face, and by the way AAARRRGGHH froze behind her she knew that he had recognized it, too.

And he was close.

Alex motioned for the others to stay still, smacking Blinky into submission when he kept gesturing for her to don her armor, and she crept forward into the hall, keeping close to the shadows and the walls. She wanted her armor too, but it was too shiny and it clanked to high hell.

A bright light flashed through a doorway at the end of the hall and Alex hastily beat a retreat, grabbing Blinky and AAARRRGGHH and rushing them as quickly as she could to the maintenance door. There was no was in hell that she was going to risk getting caught for the sake of checking that out. Whatever Bular was up to in the museum would have to be a mystery until Alexandra could come back without two huge liabilities walking around with her.

She refused to let them stop or speak until they were safely inside Trollmarket again, the portal shut behind them. A cold shiver ran through her shoulders even though she knew they had not been followed, and she shook it off with a huff, still creeped-out.

Blinky waited patiently for her to gather herself.

“Yes, Blinky, what did you find?”
“Have you ever heard of curse tablets?”
Alexandra, jumping down the crystal staircase, pursed her lips.

“No, I can’t say that I have. What are they?”
“Well,” Blinky began, climbing down behind her, “They are sheets of metal inscribed with a text, sometimes names, sometimes prayers, sometimes pleas for justice, that are buried or placed in tombs, or even occasionally tossed into wells. They originated in the Greco-Roman age, and the manuscript I found featured illustrations of several of them. One held an untranslated inscription thought to be a form of Celtic language; it is, in fact, an archaic form of Trollish.”

“Ancient troll curse?” asked AAARRRGGHH as they made it to the bottom of the staircase.

“Indeed it was, my fine friend, although not so much as curse as a plea. It was incomplete, but from context I can infer that the words inscribed were ‘may he never rise’. ‘He’, of course, is referring to Gunmar.”
They scooted through Trollmarket for a minute, until Alexandra finally asked, “Alright, what the hell does that mean? Where is the stone?”

“The stone, Master Alexandra, is in Somerset, England,” said Blinky triumphantly, walking ahead of her and turning them in the direction of the gyre portal. “In the waters of Sulis, in the valley of the river Avon and the Roman baths built thereupon!”

“Hate gyre,” AAARRRGGHH muttered beside Alex.

Blinky loved the gyre. Where spars and fights thrilled others he just got tired and grumpy, but the gyre pumped his adrenalin and made him feel like he was flying. He felt a little bad because his friend loathed the experience so much and so he made up for it by not using the device nearly as often as he would have liked, but Alexandra seemed to get some enjoyment out of the turns and flips and immense speeds gained by the machine.

Their foray into the museum had not nearly been as exciting nor as dangerous as he had anticipated; he wished they could have stayed and explored a little longer – so many wonderful artifacts! – but Alexandra had been on edge the entire time and even AAARRRGGHH, who rarely had a problem being above ground, had tensed on the way back. Blinky had only recognized that the smell of strange troll had been Bular’s scent later, when the excitement of figuring out the clue had faded slightly.

The gyre trip was relatively short, from California to Arizona, where they would catch a bridge to London.

The New London Bridge in Lake Havasu City, Arizona, was the only place where a troll could travel by bridge from North America to Europe. The bridge had originally been built over the Thames river before being sold and relocated to Arizona in the late 1960’s. A new bridge had been built in its place over the Thames, and the two London Bridges shared a magical connection that allowed trolls to move between continents without having to resort to hiding away in a boat or a plane.

The actual crossing of the portal was one of the most interesting experiences Blinky had had in the whole century; the process was a mixture of a typical portal opening using a horngazel and something akin to Platform 9 ¾ from the Harry Potter books, hidden from human sight by use of the tunnels under the bridge. They emerged in the London underground just as night was beginning to fade, and they would catch another gyre to the city of Bath in the evening.
AAARRRGGHH, who had never been to England apart from their initial crossing to the New World, was fascinated by the culture and architecture they saw when they left the bridge. Alexandra too looked around with interest, and Blinky wondered if she had ever left the United States. He himself had been to England a few times before the migration, but so many things had changed in the hundreds of years since that he recognized nothing.

“I shall arrange our accommodations for the day,” Blinky said, having to pull both of his friends away from the sparkle of the market that flourished in the underground. AAARRRGGHH accompanied him as he tried to find a place to stay, but Alexandra, Blinky noticed with one eye, faded into the background as soon as he turned his head.

They emerged from the bridge station just as the sun began to rise, which meant that they would have to wait the entire day before they could explore Bath. It was not a popular troll destination and did not have many places to stay the day, so they opted to remain in London until nightfall. Most of the underground was bedding down, but although Blinky found them temporary lodgings Alexandra was more interested in exploring than sleeping. Both Blinky – who had been recognized by a few of the stall-keepers in the market that surrounded the portal – and AAARRRGGHH, who spent nearly an hour meeting-and-greeting with people who wanted to have a word with the famed former general, retreated to their room for some well-earned sleep. Alexandra watched them from the other side of the market, having ducked away as soon as they’d arrived. Blinky was everything but subtle, and she wanted to have a little time to herself before he outed her as the new Trollhunter.

The market was quite extensive. Built like the trollish counterpart of a busy airport, it wasn’t really as homey as Heartstone Trollmarket, but the stalls and shops held a more international selection of cures and curios, and there was an immensely greater variety of trolls meandering about. She actually wandered past a group of her and Blinky’s kin, but as they only spoke Norse and a universal Trollish, she didn’t stay any longer than to say that she was from out of town and no, she wasn’t kin to Edda’s husband Ragnold.

Alexandra – who still didn’t have any money, Trollhunting really didn’t pay well at all – swapped her old, faded (vintage, she called it) sarong for an actual pair of pants, and traded in most of the hairballs she now hoarded for a small history book and the most recent edition of the local troll newspaper.

For the first time, Alexandra found herself in the local watering hole, sitting by herself in a corner table with a drink of questionable palatability in a stone cup under her nose. She faintly remembered the foul smell of glug from her Darkland days and did not count herself lucky to have encountered it again, but it seemed like the popular drink of the establishment and she was trying to be popular-ish. Really, her head was pounding and she probably looked even more tired and disheveled than she felt, but hey. Effort. ‘Be nice and a people person’ was penciled into her schedule for the next millennium, or at as long as it took to get a decent reputation.

She probably looked unsociable, sitting alone with a book under her nose, but if she was going to be with these people, performing this role, living this life until she died, it was going to get very tiring to keep up an entirely fake persona, especially when that persona was supposed to be gregarious. When she first entered Trollmarket she had a distinct personality she had assumed, but keeping it up for the next forever was not something she was willing to continue.

She read for an hour or so, only getting up once to refill her disgusting drink. As far as bars went, it was a good one, quiet-ish and atmospheric.

A group of trolls at one of the middle tables kept giving her looks, their gazes moving from her freshly-scarred face up to her horns, down to her arms and the hand she was tapping on one knee. It had been a while since she’d been given a good appreciative glance. She wasn’t sure exactly what passed as attractive for trolls, but since no one here yet knew her as Trollhunter and the group was staring at her biceps, she assumed that she made the bar.

Sorry, boys, Alex thought with a measure of amusem*nt, I don’t have a second of time for you.

She hadn’t had a relationship in a while, but was not in need of one now. Another complication might just kill her.

Did trolls even do sex? She hadn’t actually found a book that really described the physical process of making whelps yet, a gap in her knowledge that, in relation to current events, was not actually important but seemed glaring anyway. She knew, at least, that there were ‘gronk-nuks’ and a need for some trolls to wear pants or loincloths, so there had to be some useful bits somewhere.

Considering that most trolls were seven feet or taller and nearly as broad, Alex wasn’t quite sure if she really did or really did not want to know. The fact that she herself only wore a vest out of habit, not need, was a stark reminder of how little she knew of even her own anatomy.

Either way, she wouldn’t be finding out from experience anytime soon, so unless she wanted to bug Kanjigar into giving her a horrendously awkward Talk she’d just have to guess.

It might annoy him, though…

Her growing amusem*nt was interrupted by a presence at the end of her table; she looked up to see one of the males from the middle tables grinning at her.

“Enjoying your stay in London, love,” he said in Trollish, standing in a posture that he probably thought was rather roguish.

Oh, Lord, it’s like he looked it up in a book. ‘How to be Creepy and Cliché, 101’.

“Until now,” she replied sweetly, pointedly tapping a finger against the back of her book.

A woman from his table egged him on, and he sat down in the chair beside her.

“No need to be like that, woman, I’m just trying to be friendly – “
Alexandra kicked the chair out from under him and grabbed the collar of his vest as he fell, slamming his face against the table hard enough to cause it to rattle. Spilled glog softly dripped on the floor. The bar was quieter, but not silent, clearly accustomed to rowdy patrons. He tried to pull away, but Alexandra had two extra arms and leverage, and he was pushed down again. An overreaction for human culture, but appropriate for the more violently demonstrative trollkind.

“So am I,” Alex said in his ear. “But talk to me like that again and you’ll see me be unfriendly.”

He trembled against the table for an instant before she let him go, and as he tumbled to the floor Alex picked up her book, made an apologizing gesture to the annoyed barkeep, and settled back down to read, keeping one eye on the dazed troll. She silently crowed in triumph as he massaged his jaw and stared at her. He was blushing greatly and Alex realized with a jolt that she had probably just done the troll equivalent of flirting outrageously. He watched her for another moment, his friends at his back shouting for him to try again, but eventually slowly retreated. Alex watched him down the rest of his drink and leave the bar.

She really was enjoying her stay in London.

Around nine in the morning she dragged herself into the city above, Changing quietly in the shadows before blending in seamlessly with the crowd of the Underground. The problem of money was resolved by pick-pocketing a tourist’s fanny pack and she got a train to Bath, using the travel time to update her appearance.

The baths were unlike anything she had ever seen before, and part of her wanted to take a flying leap into the green waters. The rising sun was at an angle to perfectly illuminate the yellowed stone walls, casting deep shadows into corners. Outside there was a bit of mid-morning traffic, but in the baths it was quiet, and peaceful, with only a few human voices mingling with the sound of flaming torches and rushing water. A few pigeons cooed as they bathed themselves, and from the top Alex could see a magnificently built cathedral. She felt peaceful – but she couldn’t just perambulate with no rhyme or reason; she had a job to do.

The baths seemed innocuous enough, but she scoured the place for any sign of troll or Changeling activity. She knew there was at least one troll around – Vendel’s contact, who had gone missing – but she didn’t know if the woman stayed in the baths or if she lived elsewhere. There was a faint trollish smell in some of the quieter rooms; the shadowed nooks and rising steam actually made very good cover for any troll working around, especially in the East baths and changing rooms, but whoever Vendel’s friend was, she was good – Alex didn’t see a single trace of troll. Considering that the woman was missing, that could be a very good or very bad thing.

“Gunmar wafa prieklan,” she muttered to herself whenever she passed an employee of the Baths, giving them a knowing look as she did so. Most of them smiled politely and moved on, but the receptionist in the tiny gift shop snapped her eyes on Alex and sharply grinned.

“Gunman wafa prieklan,” she replied, putting down her western romance. Alex briefly allowed her eyes to glow. She’s put on a new face on the train, wrapped in a floral scarf and with pigtails, jeweled glasses, and a small gap painted between her front teeth with ink from a pen she’d eaten, and with a Welsh accent she was the picture of a country-girl touring the city.

“Stricklander sent me,” she said, casting a brief glance to the door before leaning on the counter.

“He is anxious to make sure all loose ends are tied up. Are you sure everyone is accounted for?”
The other Changeling nodded, lightly fingering her necklace of beads. Alex noted that several of them looked to be carved out of teeth. Jesus.

“There was only the one,” she said, “And our spies overcame her easily enough. There’s not much you can do against a horde of angry goblins.”

Alex, who had known a horde of angry goblins, nodded in agreement.

“There’s also the matter of the stone…”
The other Changeling allowed her eyes to flash in annoyance.

“I’ll find it when I find it,” she said. “There’s only so much information you can get out of a corpse.”

“Which is why I’m here,” said Alexandra. “Stricklander is very insistent about getting the stone as soon as possible.”
“What, he can’t be arsed to come and get it himself?”
“He’s too important, the bloody twmffat.”
They shared a mutual grin. Nobody liked Stricklander, who was more pompous than a peaco*ck and enjoyed pretending that he was the boss. Alex was glad that most Changelings had an immediate comradery, born of being the outcasts of both worlds. They’d happily stab each other in the backs at a moment’s notice when it became necessary, but until then any Changeling was as good as family as soon as they met.

“I’ve got until tonight,” Alexandra said. “Information from one of our spies says that a delegation from Trollmarket will be coming around. They’ve noticed the absence of their contact here.”
The Changeling cursed, quietly and fervently.

“I can’t get my information organized that quickly,” she hissed. “Is this someone we can take out?”
Alex shook her head.

“They’ve got the general AAARRRGGHH with them,” she said. The Changeling paled. “That’s the only one I know of for sure. There are two or three others.”
A pair of tourists came in then, giggling about the taste of the spring’s water. Alex gave them a smile and turned back to her fellow.

It was nearing nightfall before she got back on the train, her head buzzing with information but her heart heavy with guilt.

She never used to be guilty about killing someone. It was always a necessity, for safety or secrecy – as this murder was as well, but she still felt bad.

In her defense, she had tried. She’d told the Changeling – Emma Anglia – that she was working for the Trollhunter, that Gunmar’s rise would bring nothing toward the improvement of Changelings’ lives, that there was a place for her in Trollmarket if she could be convinced to abandon Gunmar.

She had a sizable cut down her breastbone from Anglia’s reaction, and a shoulder that had been wrenched when the woman had thrown her against the wall of an alleyway. The killing looked like a mugging gone wrong; Alex still had the woman’s wallet, but she’d thrown her earrings and necklace into the river. Anglia’s address was in the phone book and Alexandra had taken a look around, but there were only a few bits of paper and keepsakes in the hideaways she’d found.

Anglia’s verbal information, however, was startling. Alex knew that Bular was looking for the pieces of the Killahead Bridge, certainly, but she hadn’t known that they’d gathered enough to start building. And they were building it in Arcadia; no wonder there were so many Changelings about. It was rare to see two or more Changelings in a single state, let alone one town. This was very bad.

Anglia had had a fetch in her apartment, tucked away in a chamber only another Changeling could access. Alexandra spent half an hour copying the woman’s handwriting before she sent a message through it, saying that she – Anglia – had received warning of a delegation from Trollmarket coming to investigate the disappearances of the troll in Bath, and she had to run before she found the stone. It would keep Stricklander from sending anyone else for a while, and Anglia’s lack of communication would not be suspicious.

Alexandra got back to the London trollmarket and her temporary lodgings as night fell, and collapsed on her bed about an hour before AAARRRGGHH dragged her back out.

“You look quite tired, Master Alexandra,” commented Blinky as she quaffed down an enormous mug of Turkish coffee which had been spiked with what smelled like lighter fluid.

“I’m good,” she replied, although her arms were beginning to shake. “Let’s get going.”

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

Anglia began to suspect the moment they turned down the alley. She opened her mouth to yell but Alexandra punched her hard in the chest, knocking her to the ground. She gasped for air and rolled out of the way just as Alexandra’s foot stomped the stone where her neck had been. Alex aimed a kick, but Anglia caught her foot and pushed her off balance, and they rolled behind a pile of old boxes, the cobblestones scraping their arms and faces.

Alex pulled back to hit her again, but Anglia swept her arm up in an arch and a line of red streaked across Alex’s breast. She automatically withdrew but landed a solid slap to Anglia’s face.

“I don’t want to kill you,” she growled, grabbing the other woman’s hands before she could use her knife again.

“I work for the Trollhunter,” she said.

“You bloody traitor,” Anglia spat, baring lengthening teeth. Alex pulled her torso up and slammed the other Changeling’s head again against the ground. Anglia’s eyes glowed in anger and Alexandra simmered hers in return.

“Dammit, woman, I’m trying to help you! You think that Gunmar’s return will do anything for us? At least the Trollhunter won’t kill me if I make a single mistake!”
“Gunmar made us everything we are,” Anglia replied. Alex’s grip on her shoulders tightened and Anglia cried out as claws pierced her skin.

“You think that’s a good thing? We had actual families, damn you! People who cared about us! We used to fit. Now even the ones who created us treat lower than goblin filth!”
Anglia spat in her eye; the sensation sent Alexandra into a brief panic, the remembrance of Bular’s sword on her face running through her mind. The other Changeling used the distraction to unbalance her, standing and grabbing Alex by the shoulders so that she could throw her against the wall.

“Gunmar made me strong,” Anglia sneered, her lengthening fingernails scoring lines into Alex’s flesh. “And he rewards those of us who serve him with loyalty. I suppose you would know nothing of that.”

The pain was irritating, but Alexandra couldn’t transform or don her armor; if Anglia survived, if she got away, then she would know what Alex looked like, could spread the word – her position as Trollhunter was powerful but fragile, and would not survive her being exposed as a Changeling.

She pushed against the wall to dislodge the other woman. Anglia came rushing at Alex, swift and deadly with her knife held before her, but Alex was the stronger; with her two forms beginning to merge her human body slowly gained strength and durability, and when she grabbed Anglia’s arm she twisted it and broke it at the elbow. Anglia didn’t have time to cry out before she was grabbed into a headlock, Alexandra’s forearm steadily putting pressure on her throat. She kicked behind at Alex’s legs, but slowly, slowly sank onto the ground, until Alex could no longer feel her pulse.

She took a minute to catch her breath, and then rummaged for the dead woman’s wallet, removing her jewelry and scattering her purse across the alley. She emerged from the alley with a minimum of dishevelment, and she tucked Anglia’s knife in her pants and walked away, only pausing to throw the other Changeling’s earrings and horrible troll-tooth necklace over the side of a bridge.

The gyre trip to Bath was quick, but AAARRRGGHH still needed a few moments to settle his stomach. Alexandra gave him the rest of her coffee and bought another for herself with Anglia’s stolen money. It tasted more bitter than usual. The scratches on her shoulders were hidden by a wide scarf, and the memory of them itched.

Blinky, once he was assured that she was alright, looked almost unforgivably excited. He began spouting off trivia and tidbits of fact about the baths and the lore thereof, but although AAARRRGGHH was as engaged as he could be, Alex only nodded in the appropriate places. A wave of exhaustion had hit her very suddenly, and all she wanted to do was curl up in bed – preferably on the other side of the country, where she wouldn’t have to be Trollhunter – and sleep for a few good days. Her fight with Anglia had left her with a significantly sourer tone than usual, and she was tired and disinterested in a way that ‘exhausted’ just didn’t cover.

Blinky’s chattering – something that she would have been invested in on any other day – was annoying rather than engaging, and she gripped her stone coffee mug tightly to keep from throwing it at his head. She was tired and grumpy and didn’t need to raise suspicion by taking it out on someone else.

“…And it was believed that the waters, once drunk, could cure a myriad of illnesses and…Master Alexandra, are you listening?”

Alex almost nodded automatically before she caught herself. She blinked her eyes open and looked at Blinky’s annoyed face.

“No,” she said. “No, I’m actually not. Is any of this going to help us find Vendel’s contact?”
Blinky huffed, just as the gyre began to slow.

“To know how to handle anything, Master Alexandra, we must first understand the history and context of what we are dealing with. It does not do to simply run in without any awareness of the state of affairs of our situation.”

Alex dismounted the gyre with a snarl, and knew Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were exchanging glances. The cuts on her shoulders and chest itched and pulled, there was an irritating hum just under her skin that she couldn’t shake, and she really just wanted to punch something. The fact that Blinky was right didn’t help, especially since he had just admonished her like a child.

They were dropped off under the very same bridge Alex had used to discard Anglia’s personal effects, a glowing portal connecting the gyre trail to the outside. A quick, sickening pang echoed in her chest and she pushed it away, climbing up the wall and watching the various night-goers until it was clear.

Alexandra still carried the runestone that Blinky had bought to disable the cameras, and after sneaking over to the baths they quietly scaled the outside of the building.

The statues standing above the main pool eerily reminded Alexandra of the stone bodies of the fallen Hunters, and though they were beautiful to look at she avoided glancing at them. Blinky, oddly silent, seemed to know his way.

There was a clamor behind them, then a soft sigh and the flicker of a flashlight. Alexandra whirled around to see AAARRRGGHH holding an unconscious human guard, lifting him in the air by one ankle. AAARRRGGHH gave her a sheepish smile before he softly tucked the man against the railing and ate the flashlight. Alex’s nerves were still on edge as he quietly rumbled past her to follow Blinky down the stairs. She cursed and took after him, shaking herself to try and get rid of her shivers. She needed to calm the f*ck down. She should have been on the lookout for a night-guard; she should have seen the man. They very nearly got caught because of her frazzled state of mind.

Blinky led them to a room with a deep, circular pool, one that Alex had glanced at earlier but passed by. The water was pitch black, illuminated with golds from the nightlights. Blinky hopped over the glass barrier and passed his hand through the water. It came up dry.

“The pool is much deeper than it appears to humankind,” he said, turning behind him and obviously enjoying the looks in incredulity that Alex knew she and AAARRRGGHH were wearing. “In reality is it a local portal, leading to a pocket dimension of similar rooms. Come along, my friends.”

He stepped forward and disappeared into the pool without a splash. Alex swore and jumped over the barrier, following hot on his heels. She didn’t know if there were any goblins left guarding the area, or if the area had been trapped…

With a rush of an odd dark-light, she landed exactly where she had jumped, as if on solid ground, but in a different room, the rounded walls and engaged columns embedded with glowing gems and uncut crystals. A soft thundering made her scamper to the side before AAARRRGGHH landed nearly on top of her.

“Blinky be careful,” he murmured. Blinky, who was wrist-deep in several files of papers, nodded vigorously.

There was no troll slumped over the desk, nor a body hidden behind the clean lines of shelves and books, but the air had the unmistakable odor of troll blood.

How had Anglia done it, Alexandra wondered vaguely. Her knife? Her claws? She resisted the urge to scratch at her wounds, and thought about the woman’s very sharp and prominent teeth. Had she disposed of the body in the river just a few blocks down, or was it still hidden somewhere…

The tidy office was only sullied by a few loose papers scattered on the floor, and Blinky bent to pick them up.

“The stone was certainly here,” he murmured. “As was our contact. Although it seems…”

Two of his fingers trailed over a little spot of purple blood on a shelf, the wood cracked as if someone had been thrown against it. The rubbery scent of goblin lingered on the walls.

“…That she may be here no longer. We need to find out if her attackers managed to locate the stone, and whatever other information our contact may have possessed.”

They shuffled quietly about the small office, none of them willing to make too much noise. AAARRRGGHH took his time looking through the collection of texts on the back wall, while Blinky looked over the contacts’ papers. Alex busied herself engaging both nose and eyes, running her fingers over the roughened walls and under the sides of furniture, examining the various artifacts and collections for clues, while her mind was damnably occupied elsewhere.

She hadn’t noticed the pool was deeper than it was supposed to be. Even in her human form, she could see the troll magic, and she hadn’t noticed the difference. How much else had she missed?

Her fingers dented the wooden lid of a decorated box that had been tucked beneath a chest, trying to jiggle the key without making too much of a noise while also trying to control her temper.

Really, she thought at the blasted thing. Really?

AAARRRGGHH took the box from her when she put it down with deliberate care. She handed him the key. The box sounded empty anyway and she was utterly useless. Her nerves were frazzled and she couldn’t get rid of the hum under her skin, and her exhaustion was making it difficult to concentrate on their given task. The fact that AAARRRGGHH apparently could open the stupid little box with no complications didn’t help.

“Blinky…”

Alex turned at the tone of his voice. His back was to her, but she heard him drop the box. His arm began to shake, and she silently walked around him and took the stone out of his hand. Blinky came jogging up, looking ready to explode in excitement before he caught the stricken look on his companion’s face.

Alexandra retrieved the discarded box and replaced the stone, giving it to Blinky to stow in one of his pockets. To AAARRRGGHH she gave her scarf, when his eyes began to water. They left the office and the baths in silence.

AAARRRGGHH made a concerned grunt at the scratches on her shoulders as they anxiously waited in line for the London Bridge, but she waved him off with her best ‘comforting’ smile.

“Bit of a bar fight,” she said.

Vendel did not take the news of his contact’s death well, and he was less than happy about having a piece of Killahead Bridge presented to him.

“I had hoped…” he’d murmured to himself, his form disappearing within the lit interior of the Hearthstone.

Alex left before Blinky could rally himself to make a motivational speech. Her bag and pockets were heavy with the books she had stolen from the Baths, and she dropped them on the bed to mix with Kanjigar’s collection, ignoring the call of the library.

There were a few people who called to her for help or advice on her way to the entrance to the market, and she quietly helped them settle their problems. After Blinky’s ‘Changeling’ clusterf*ck many more of the denizens of Trollmarket were sympathetic and encouraging to her, and although she appreciated the rise in reputation the changeability of everyone’s opinion was rather disheartening. Less than a week ago the majority of Trollmarket thought her cowardly and unorthodox for letting Draal live, but here she was, advising a family on the best way to expand their living quarters for their newest child. It didn’t matter that she had no clue what she was talking about – they still asked. She couldn’t decide quite how she felt about it.

Noon was rising in the human world when she was, at length, allowed time to herself, and she walked to the museum with its warmth on her back. A brief stop in a tourist shop and the bathroom of an ice cream store lent her a decent disguise; she bought her museum ticket and wandered around with all the care of a careless art student.

It was amazing, really, exactly how much Nomura was able to get past the radar. The mural featuring boars with six eyes really caught Alex’s interest, as did several pieces of troll-made weaponry. Had nobody questioned these? Had Nomura somehow explained their oddities into the realms of benign eccentricity? Arcadia was a melting pot of ‘interesting’ characters and history – had it been on purpose?

The notion that Strickler, Nomura, Bular, and the hoard of goblins they kept were not alone as the only magical creatures in Arcadia made her shiver. Trollmarket was safe in its underground nest, but if Bular had an entire army hidden on the surface it did not mark well for the people living in the city.

Alexandra dutifully sketched everything that caught her eye, aimlessly perambulating around the museum until she reached the exhibits that were under construction. There was a sign, but no door, no rope, which seemed hopelessly easy; either Nomura was that confident about nobody seeing anything, or she had lost a few brain cells since the last time Alex had seen her. Either way, it was broad daylight, and Alexandra took the opening.

She scampered up to a half-finished Viking exhibit, looking under her lashes at the rest of the room while she sketched it. It was rather empty, a little messy, but although there was no gigantic bridge there was a distinct tinge of goblin, and perhaps the tingling remnant of magic. Boxes were piled against one wall and Alex carelessly ambled over to them, adding a little shading to her drawing of the Viking ship’s prow. Every box was sealed, and she dared not try and pry one open.

Around the corner of the room were yet more boxes, some of them quite sizeable. Magic lingered in the air.

A very soft, deep breathing echoed through the space, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

Where did Bular stay during the day?

“Hey!”
Alex spun around, clutching her drawing pad to her chest. Nomura grabbed her shoulder and pulled her close.

“I don’t believe you belong in this part of the museum, miss.”

“B-but my thesis,” Alex whimpered, showing her the sketches with shaking hands.

“I just need a few more minutes – “

“Out.”

Nomura quickly but quietly steered her to the exit, pushing her none-too-gently into the public parts of the museum.

“Are you the curator? Can I come back? I just need another look at the detail work that’sreallyallIask – “

“That part of the museum is closed,” Nomura hissed, releasing Alex’s shoulder with a firm shove. She took a deep inhale and seemed to calm a bit. Alexandra smoothed her hair and glasses, her eyes wide and glassy.

“Please – “

“It will be open to the public next season.”

Nomura’s tone brook no argument, and Alex left in a flurry of tears and muttered curses. She didn’t stop walking until she was far into the town, where she ducked into a bank and removed her disguise in the bathroom. Sketchpad, glasses, and lacy overshirt were dumped into the trash, and she pulled her hair into a tight bun before washing off as much makeup as she could. From art student to shabby woman, with a blocky, angular face, a little too tall and far too toothy. She exited the bank with a carefree air, and the goblin spy that she spotted in the bushes didn’t give her a second glance.

One of the things she had learned early on was to never think while playing a part. If she had dwelled on her worry about being caught, or her regret about never establishing an identity in the Changeling echelons, or her questions about the current hierarchy in the ranks, she would never have gotten far. But back in Trollmarket she could dwell, and dwell she did.

She heavily regret never constructing a new identity for herself, one that she could merge into the community of Changelings around the world. She had cut herself off as a safety measure as soon as she could, but now she didn’t know who ranked what, who was where, who was even alive or dead or available for her to impersonate. If she had stayed, if she had made herself into someone important, she could have gathered so much more information, been privy to so many more secrets. The Changeling community was not exactly close-knit, every one of them being suspicious bastards, but knowing who was dead or not was extremely easy to confirm, making impersonation a rather difficult and convoluted job. She would have to first find another Changeling, then learn where they ranked, then learn who knew of their current appearance and location, then find a way to incapacitate them long enough for her to impersonate...simple spying would be easier.

Stricklander had always been one of the highest in the community, but Nomura had not. Alexandra remembered her from the Darklands, a mere trainer to those who had survived to be strong enough to carry a weapon. Now she was in Arcadia, housing the son of Gunmar in her museum. Did she outrank Stricklander now, or were they equals? Half of the time it depended on Bular or Gunmar’s mood, anyway.

She seemed to have control of the goblins in any case, unless wherever Stricklander was based simply didn’t have the room. But she was housing Bular…

Alex hadn’t seen any sign of a reconstructed bridge, although she hadn’t examined the contents of all of those boxes, but she knew what magic felt like and there was some strong magic going on in the museum. That, and the fact that Bular had his minions looking for pieces of the Bridge, was more than enough for her to reason that they were actually under construction, or at least had the material gathered in preparation.

But before she went to Blinky with her suspicions, she needed to do a little research.

She bought a small dinner and tea and wandered back to Kanjigar’s quarters. What had been fed to her in the Darklands about the Bridge and its history and magic was, much like Gunmar’s origin, probably twisted and misconstrued for propaganda.

Troll Bridges Across the European Continent, The Final Days: an account of the victory of Deya the Deliverer, and Historical Magical Artifacts all looked promising and Alex hauled them from Kanjigar’s shelves for perusal. The activity of Trollmarket was a distant buzz in the far reaches of the cavern where the former Hunter’s quarters were located, and the business of her thoughts quieted some in the peace.

Her destroyed eye ached, and when she rubbed at it she noticed that the shivering hum in her chest was gone. The thrum of the Heartstone had replaced it without her noticing.

An hour, two geographical texts, and one Welsh troll census later, she found the location of the Heartstone that was located under Wales, where she had been born. Less than a hundred miles away from Bath, underneath the Vale of Neath and the Craig y Ddinas, the Dinas Rock, found within.

Her heartstone, which she had not felt since she had been stolen away, had been thrumming in her blood and she hadn’t realized until she was across the damn ocean.

She’d been less than a hundred miles from her birthplace. From the place where she had been taken. From where she never had visited, nor had thought she would ever visit.

The Bridge conspiracy can wait an hour.

Blinky had several volumes in his library featuring the names and births of trolls all over the world; he was one of many record-keepers. Alex marched into his library and took every record-book written between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries before combing through Kanjigar’s own collection.

Within twenty minutes she was neck-deep in Arthurian legend and Welsh mythology, and after four hours was taking shaky notes with both right hands, listing comparisons between myths and checking story against story.

Her eyes began to itch and droop after several hours of reading, but she found something in the third volume of genealogies belonging to Welsh trolls and their families. Most of the lines were long dead, though a few still remained around her original Hearthstone. There had been a mass egress of trolls from the British Heartstones and although there were a few records missing during the time of the migration, Alex managed to find a record of her birth family.

She wanted to throw something.

“Lineage of Daghildr the Dangerous.

Born app. 1050. Daughter of Dara, daughter of Drysi, and Finnyr, son of Ormr. Died 1678.

Children by Rollo, son of Seneca: Nerthuz Alexius, born app. 1338

Grandchildren by Gruffudd, son of Drusus: Blodwen Alexius, born app. 1629, died 1645; Volundr Alexius, born app. 1647, died 1802.”

And there she was. A single, incorrect entry, next to a brother she’d never known about.

Alexandra put down her pencil before she snapped it.

They’d written her off as dead.

Logically, she knew it was expected; not one entry, in any of the books, had logged a child down as ‘stolen by Gumm-Gumms’, but still. They marked her as dead, and to them, she was as good as.

She wondered very much how the many-armed Trollhunter had felt while seeing Alexandra in the Void, knowing that she was a Changeling and a member of her sister tribe.

Alexandra turned the page, and kept reading. The Trollhunter had given no indication, had offered no greeting. She’d probably never met Alexandra, even with the low birth rate of trolls, so one missing child from a different clan wouldn’t have…

…

…She picked up a different book.

I am not going to think about this.

Her mother was still alive, probably her father as well.

I am not going to think about this.

She wondered if her brother had been taken as well. She wondered if he was one of the Changed children too weak to survive or too slow or killed for sport or if she had killed him in competition or –

She was not going to think about this!

Alexandra threw the book across the room, the vellum pages tearing free and scattering through the air.

f*ck them! f*ck all of them!

Hundreds of years of Trollhunters’ families littered the floor, and she had to refrain herself from going over and stomping on them, for all the good it would do.

“f*ck them!”

She remembered her family. In the aftermath of the war and the wake of the trolls’ sudden migration, protocols had been overlooked, rules had been ignored; Alex had been taken too late, assigned too early, given to a human family that was poorly-researched and sent in with minimal training. Most whelps were taken as infants, rarely over ten years old, when they were the most impressionable and more likely to forget their families. Alex had been small for her age and was taken too late. She remembered her family. She’d had time.

And they had written her off as dead. She was a shame to them the moment she was taken.

Like it was her goddamn fault. ..

Fervently she scanned through tomes and scrolls, barely taking anything in in her attempt to distract herself. Her lantern gently fluttered the walls with shadows as she absently re-arranged the bookshelves in order of color, glancing through anything with an interesting cover.

“…destroyer of the storm-sun,

beloved follower of the seeress…”

Kanjigar hadn’t marked her name down on his list of children stolen to the Darklands. Had she simply been overlooked? Had her family lied about what happened to her?

“…the seeds of Foeniculum vulgare are known to relieve ills of the stomach…”

How dare they write her off, as if she had done something shameful. Did they even mourn her? And what had killed off her brother? Had he been taken as well? Would she have met him in the Darklands, fought him, killed him…

“…None best the mighty power of she

To the Myrddin jewel beholden…”

She was the goddamn Trollhunter now. It didn’t matter now what they thought of her. Good or bad, she had ascended to the ‘highest of offices’, as Blinky said, had tricked her way into Trollmarket, had wounded the son of Gunmar…

“…And changed limb and form for war…”

Not a single goddamn person was going to tell her that she wasn’t worthy when she had the amulet pulsing in her pocket, and she would be damned before she let anybody else throw her away like a dirty secret and

Wait wait wait

What was that?

Alex re-opened the book she was shelving and slowly turned the pages, the light of her amulet translating the languages until she found what had caught her eye among Trollhunter epic poetry.

“Through stars and smoke lay many warriors slain

And haunting spirits’ cries all of stone and crystal shook

But fairest bane ‘gainst darkest evil smote

And to her husband struck a mortal blow.

None best the mighty power of she

To the Myrddin gem beholden

In deadly light of day fearless strode the queen

And with dark arts changed limb and form for war.”

Oh

OH…!

Alex spent a very long time reading and re-reading the Eddaic poems, and then ten minutes laying on Kanjigar’s nest, laughing until she ached and cried.

Deya the Deliverer had been a Changeling.

And absolutely no one knew.

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

"What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have not yet been discovered."

- Ralph Waldo Emerson, Fortune of the Republic

Alex didn’t have to wonder if Kanjigar noticed her modifications to his library. She rearranged the books every time she used it, by size or color or state of repair, and left half of them laying on the bed with a lantern or cup of tea on the cover. She didn’t need to mention it. His face said enough.

“Nice Eric Clapton collection,” she greeted him with.

A muscle in Kanjigar’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t say a word. He wouldn’t comment – a celebrated former Trollhunter didn’t rant about the misuse of his worldly possessions – but she could see that she was annoying him.

That’s for making me haul your dead ass out of my apartment.

“So you’ve finally decided to answer our summons.”

“I think you know why I’m here,” Alex replied. Around them, the statues of previous Trollhunters muttered and glowed. Alex licked her teeth and glared at them.

“Seems a little impolite to be calling me ‘abomination’ when Deya the Deliverer herself was a Ch-“

“Impudent!”
“She mocks us!”

“Were you all so sensitive when you were alive,” Alex muttered. Kanjigar, floating quietly in front of her, looked as though he was an inch away from smacking somebody.

“Not everything is as it used to be, Trollhunter,” he said. “Things change.”

“Obviously. Either being a Changeling was celebrated back then or nobody knew.”

“It was not common knowledge,” Kanjigar conceded, “But circ*mstances were different. Deya was not like you.”

The triumph in Alexandra’s breast flared into anger.

“You – “

“Deya the Deliverer was never taken by Gumm-Gumms,” Kanjigar said, raising his voice to talk over her. “She wasn’t changed, not like you were. She wasn’t…”

The words hung in between them, and although Alex knew he would never say them to her face she still heard them.

“An experimental abomination meant for spying and cannon fodder?”
“Do not get defensive. Those are your words, not mine,” said Kanjigar. “You looked in every book for Deya the Deliverer’s origins, I know. I watched. You found nothing because there was nothing.”

Then what?

“So I’m just supposed to accept that she was a Changeling, but not a bad Changeling like me? What the hell is the difference?”

The spirits above them were pulsating with angry energy, but Kanjigar calmed them with a glare and a motion of his hand. He seemed to gather his thoughts for a moment.

“Changelings were not a Gumm-Gumm invention,” Kanjigar said after a long and tense minute.

“Once, when a troll infant was sickly or weak, it would be swapped for a healthy human child. Glamours were cast onto both children to make them appear as the other, and they would grow up in their new families as if nothing had happened. If they somehow met, however, the spells placed upon them would unbind, and they could switch forms at will.

“Deya, a troll who had lived and grown in a human household, met with the human she had been abandoned for just before the war began. In a fit of jealous rage she fought and killed her familiar, and was banished from her human home. Her birth family, however, hailed her for her strength and invited her back.

“Disgusted with their capricious nature, she refused, and wandered until she met the young general of a swiftly strengthening army. She became his wife and second-in-command until she saw first-hand what he wanted to do to the human world that had been her home.”

Alexandra’s spine shivered in shock.

“Deya left Gunmar’s army when he proposed to make her his spy, and that was when Gumm-Gumms created the methods used to make Changelings such as yourself.”
”And somehow this didn’t become common knowledge? I didn’t even know this and I’m sure that Blinky doesn’t.”

“Such a practice has long been lost with the creation of modern Changelings. The war decimated everything and everyone; most of the former breed of Changeling were killed, and the majority of our documents and history were destroyed.”

“But you know. You all knew. You must have all conveniently forgot that little tidbit.”

“There are more important things than your personal feelings, Trollhunter.”
Alex tapped the amulet on her chest.

“Yes, Trollhunter. This is important! You think that we can ever have peace, even with Bular and Gunmar’s deaths, while you’re still ostracizing the entire Changeling population? These are your kids that you’re spitting on now, and they are more numerous than you know! These people have power in this world. They are the bridges between human and trollkind. Being the Trollhunter should mean looking out for them as well.”

Even if they’re dicks.
“As you’ve clearly shown.”

The mist swirled around them, and an image of her choking the Changeling at Bath floated through the air. Alexandra drew her sword and slashed the image back into mist.

“I’m not trying to say that we should establish a Hug Your Local Changeling campaign. I’m saying that both sides treat us like sh*t for something that we couldn’t control, and you’re never going to achieve true peace if you continue to refuse to even consider accepting us.”

“While your people remain as Gunmar’s spies, there is little that can be done for them.”

“They’re only Gunmar’s spies because they don’t know any better,” Alexandra said irritably. “But in order for them to leave his side they need somewhere else to go!”
Souls of former Trollhunters swirled angrily around her and Kanigar’s glowing spirit.

“They can never be welcome!”
“She courts disaster!”
“Abominations!”
Alexandra waved a hand at the stone bodies above them.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” she said to Kanjigar. “Why would they leave Gunmar just to go to people that treat them exactly the same?”
“You won’t be able to change peoples’ minds,” he told her softly. “We are a very reactive race. Your actions will cause nothing but mass panic.”
Alexandra banished her armor, and the Void abruptly disappeared. She knew they could still watch her but at least she didn’t have to hear them.

She’d scope out Trollmarket; she’d go to different troll communities, and see what they thought on the subject. Surely there were some who felt uneasy about how Changelings were treated? Surely there were some who couldn’t bring themselves to hate their son or daughter who had been taken.

Heartstone Trollmarket’s reaction to her own faked ‘reveal’ had been discouraging and disheartening, but trolls had to be more adaptable than Kanjigar believed. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if they weren’t.

She practiced her forms alone in the Forge until Blinky and AAARRRGGHH came. Oddly, Vendel was with them as well.

“Supervising, sir?”

Vendel snorted. “Hardly. Upon the discovery of a piece of Killahead Bridge, I’ve decided to supplement your training earlier than originally intended. Finish your forms, Trollhunter. I want to see how you do against multiple opponents.”

Vendel settled down on the stairs on the edge of the arena, placing a small jeweled box down beside him.

Alexandra didn’t have to puzzle over what he’d teach her, because AAARRRGGHH shot a fist at her head.

Woah!

He came at her fast, and she rolled out of the way only to have to retreat from Blinky, who had grabbed a spear and was twirling it with disturbing efficiency.

“Avast, Master Alexandra!”

Alex retreated, banishing all but her sword and breastplate for speed.

“Where did you learn how to use a spear,” she spat. Blinky laughed and threw it at her head. The helmet appeared over her face just before the spear nicked her ear. AAARRRGGHH tried to swipe her feet out from under her and she jumped, landing in a roll before picking up the fallen spear. Blinky already had two more in his arms.

“My brother and I used to play with spears often! Though he had a stronger jab than I, I daresay that I got rather good.”

Alex ran away from AAARRRGGHH’s flying fists and shot the spear back at Blinky, who caught it. He slowly twirled the three spears between his fingers, and something in the triumphant glare in his eyes shot something pleasantly warm and exceedingly unwanted through her pelvis.

She dodged another hit from AAARRRGGH and stood straight, dropping her sword arm and placing her hands on her hip.

“Damn, Blinky,” she hummed, with an exaggerated leer. “You actually look very nice holding a weapon like that.”

The arena seemed to freeze over; a fist half the size of her body stopped about a foot above her head. Blinky dropped one of his spears in shock, spluttering.

“I – you – there is no – you can’t possibly think– “

Alexandra, who had been planning to use the moment to strike, had to bend over and laugh. There was a snort from Vendel on the sidelines, but she couldn’t tell if it was amused or disgusted.

“I’m so sorry,” Alex gasped, straightening up and laughing at the ceiling. “I was planning on using that as a distraction, but your face…ah!”

Blinky glowered.

“Highly inappropriate, Master Alexandra, and not at all amusing!”

Alex stopped laughing and swung her sword upward, nicking AAARRRGGHH’s hovering fist. He slammed the other down just as she lunged out the way.

“It’s effective though,” she called, right before a rock bounced off her shoulder blade; she’d forgotten about Vendel. As she turned her attention to him a growl echoed to her right, and she was forced to jump out of the way before AAARRRGGHH tackled her. The back of his hand connected with her breastplate while she was still in the air and she flew into a wall, probably only avoiding a concussion due to her helmet. She slid down the wall and landed on the floor in a pained heap.

That hit seemed a bit excessive, and she stood up with a groan.

No flirting with Blinky. Understood.

Dust rose as Alex propelled herself across the floor in a tight ball, something that wasn’t natural for her body but that Draal had taught her anyway, and she managed to knock AAARRRGGHH to the side. Blinky, recovered from his affronted shock, spun his spears in an attack and she simultaneously avoided them and AAARRRGGHH’s attempt to grab her legs. Her sword summoned once more, she blocked a hit to the chest and sent a spear flying over the edge of the arena.

Her heart raced beneath her armor so hard she was sure that someone would hear it. AAARRRGGHH’s fists seemed to come out from nowhere and his towering body was deceptively fast, and Alex had to duck and weave tirelessly to escape his long reach. Her sword decapitated a spear and she caught the last one as the end of it tried to smash into the side of her neck. Blinky hauled back and she jumped forward, using the momentum to launch herself over his head. He yelped helplessly as he was pulled backward, and Alex tugged the spear from his hand when he landed on the floor. The rock Vendel threw at her back was bat across the arena.

“Adequate,” said the old troll, rising from the stairs.

“Your concentration wanes in favor of your tricks, Trollhunter, but your reflexes are more than sufficient. Let’s hope that they are enough.”

Old goat.

“Your duty will undoubtedly get more difficult, now that Bular has a measure of your mettle. I sense that dark times are ahead of us, and your training will have to be expediated.”

“The fact that both goblins and Bular himself were present at the museum is very concerning,” said Blinky, standing up and brushing himself off. “If Bular is reconstructing the Killahead Bridge, he would have it built wherever he resides, and there is no reason for him to be at the museum unless he was staying there.”
“Which means that he has human help,” Alex said, glad that they had reached their own conclusions. “Or…?”
Blinky and AAARRRGGHH exchanged an uneasy glance.

“It is most possible, Master Alexandra, that he is working with Changelings.”
“The museum,” rumbled AAARRRGGHH.

“Indeed. One of the museum employees may be a Changeling.”
“So, what – we just go up and shove a gaggletack in everyone’s faces? I think we would cause a bit of a fuss.”

“Ah hah! Such is why we have brought these.”

Blinky picked up the jeweled chest that Vendel had brought and opened it.

Alexandra had never been one for shiny things.

“It’s…rocks. Hallelujah.”

Blinky closed the box with an unamused glare.

“A little more excitement and veneration, if you please,” he said dryly. “These are stones that past Trollhunters used to unlock various powers within their armor.”
“Each gem possesses certain properties that, when combined with the magic of Merlin’s amulet, grants the bearer command of numerous crafts and enchantments.”

Vendel gave a quick summary of what each glowing stone was supposed to do, and ten minutes later found Alexandra empty-handed, swatting away rocks and small boulders before they could get within a foot of her, a tiny forcefield hovering over each of her hands. She wished desperately for her fourth eye, because in order to repel whatever was thrown at her she needed to actually see it first. The stone from Raglor the Repulsive was useful, but perhaps not her thing.

Sigrid the Shadowless’s stone, however, she snatched up in an instant.

The Leoht Stone, to walk in daylight. Incredibly useful for her human-world missions, so that she wouldn’t have to avoid the others or explain why she was outside of Trollmarket during the day.

“A good stone indeed, for your next mission,” said Vendel. Alexandra closed the back of her amulet over the handy little jewel and placed it back on her armor.

“Where am I going this time?”

“Upstairs,” said Vendel. “You are to find out how much of the Killahead Bridge Bular and his henchmen have accumulated, and make certain that we know where they are building it.”
“Oh is that all.”

“All other calls, all training can be put on hold, impudent youngster. The Bridge cannot be reconstructed, at risk of destroying this world as we know it. Find the Bridge, find the Changelings, and destroy both.”
“Is that all.”

Vendel snorted and tapped his staff against the chest in Blinky’s arms.

“It’s not as if I asked you to kill Bular,” he said. “Choose wisely, and good luck to you.”

“Thanks. I’ll go through the sewers, when it’s still light out. Blinky, here, help me pick out some of these…”

“You are surely not going alone,” the other troll said, closing the lid of the chest. Alex looked up in surprise.

“Why not? Kanjigar went it alone.”
“And was felled, unfortunately. You have only just begun your training and although you are formidable in your own right, I would feel more comfortable without you ‘going it alone’.”
Alex leaned back and crossed her arms, grinning with far too many teeth.

“Fine. You’re with me.”
The other troll jerked away, as if afraid she would try to flirt with him again.

“Me? Why?”
You’re actually quite good in a pinch.

“Cannon fodder,” she said instead. Six eyes rolled.

“Ah, well, good. I was afraid you were going to say something complementary.”

A rumbling to the side alerted Alexandra that she was wading in dangerous waters. An eye glanced at a bristling AAARRRGGHH and she pointedly rubbed a hand over the back of her skull.

“I’ve learned my lesson,” she said. “I need sleep, not a date. AAARRRGGHH you, unfortunately, are not really built for sneaking around. And I do need more of those stones – what else is there?”
It took almost two hours for her to pick out two more gems that didn’t rub her the wrong way and weren’t too difficult to master in a short time. One granted the user invisibility, as long as she stayed still and pretended to be whatever she was trying to blend in against. The other sharpened her hearing, and she had to be incredibly careful with it; the first time she tried using it she almost deafened herself with the sound of Blinky and AAARRRGGHH’s digestive systems rumbling like rockslides.

Any other stones were too unpredictable or difficult to master without being liabilities, and she would leave them to another day.

Both stones needed to be practiced among company, and Alexandra took her training outside the Forge and into the bustling streets of Trollmarket. She got quite a lot of strange looks, freezing in place with what was probably a very stupid face, trying to concentrate on being invisible, but after a short while she could stand in the middle of the path and disappear, to the shock and amusem*nt of the trolls around her.

Alexandra even got to answer another call, though it was from Bagdwella again. The second stone, used by Hloda the Thunderous, enabled her to hear the quiet chattering of a conspiring group of gnomes, and with a little deafening applause and ear-splitting praise, she was able to locate and capture the hidden thieves with minimal fuss.

Her third and final practice for the day, however, took place in the privacy of her own rooms.

The influx of cats had petered off, much to Alex’s relief. Draal, wherever he had gone, was probably far enough away that sneaking into Trollmarket was more of an inconvenience than anything else. As it was, Alex had a purring blanket of critters laying on every limb whenever she bothered to come by and sleep in her own space.

She gently shooed a fuzzy kitten away from the center of her room and sat down with a groan. She’d been so busy, reading up on trolls and talking to ghosts and training and visiting f*cking England that she’d forgotten to be sore and exhausted, and now that she had a minute to herself she wanted to sleep for a month.

Sighing heavily, she dug a hand into her pocket and pulled out the amulet before she could fall into a doze in the middle of the floor. The glow of the thing shone through her fingers.

Four on the top. Five on the bottom. Heh.

“Alright, you shiny bastard,” she muttered, feeling around its edges and ridges. “I’ve seen you teleport. We’re going to work on that.”

Twenty minutes later saw nothing, and Alex threw the amulet out of the window. She rejected it in her mind, and in half a second it was sitting back on her knee, glittering. How an inanimate object could look mischievous, Alexandra did not know, but the stupid thing managed it.

“Excellent,” Alexandra hissed, taking it back up and donning her armor. “Now do that, but with me.”

She focused on rejecting the amulet; rejecting her position as Trollhunter; rejecting her entire existence; rejecting her cats, Kanjigar’s books, sautéed mushrooms, her favorite Hendrix songs, everything that she could think of, but her ass stayed seated in the middle of her small, gently lit room.

I’m sorry for calling you a motherf*cking co*ckwhistle? Alex tried, to no avail.

Cursing at the amulet didn’t work either.

Her legs were getting sore by the time she decided to give it up. She’d fall asleep sitting on the floor before she managed to teleport with the amulet.

Unhesitant now to relax, Alex focused on her physical presence, the comfortable and uncomfortable parts of her body. The floor was cold and hard, harder than her skin, the muscles underneath which were tense with strain and lack of sleep and food. She tried relaxing them, from the face down. She imagined her presence, her body, scattered; no more tense muscles, no more sore joints, no more numb fingers and aching feet –

“f*ck!”

Water filled her mouth as she was suddenly immersed in warm, vaguely smelly water.

“HAH!”
Alex waded to the side of the pool, the glimmering blackness of the walls of the public baths – the first place in Trollmarket where she had really relaxed – shining all around her. The single troll bathing there watched her in bemusem*nt.

Alex coughed and spat up a gob of metallic water, and saluted to him as she pulled herself out of the bath and lay down on the warm floor. Even for the short distance between her rooms and the baths, she was exhausted.

“Evening, gent,” she said, water running down her chin.

“Whatever.”

Her laughter echoed over the smooth walls and through the corridors as she banished her armor and fell asleep against the stone.

Blinky pat down his pockets.

“Do you think I will require rope? Surely a good steady length should come in handy. But no, no, no, it’ll be too bulky – suppose it gets caught on something. Perhaps a flint – one never knows when a few pyrotechnics may come in handy. My friend, do you think perhaps that I should bring one of our gaggletacks…but this is merely a scouting mission, we shouldn’t raise suspicion that we are on to them…”

“Thinking too much,” rumbled AAARRRGGHH, who patiently handed Blinky whatever item he asked for or idly discarded.

“Yes, but what about weaponry? If we are to locate Bular, having a weapon handy could save a life…”
A hand hovered over a spear abandoned between two bookcases. A mischievous smile and darkened eyes flashed in his mind, and he quickly drew his hand back.

“I don’t expect that I could convince her to bring you instead, my friend?”
AAARRRGGHH, who had eyed the spear as well, shook his head.

“Too big,” he said softly. “I would draw attention.”
“I suppose so,” Blinky had to acknowledge, even though he was decidedly uncomfortable with leaving AAARRRGGHH behind. Not only was his friend good in a tight spot, but he was a constant source of comfort and assurance.

He was reluctant to admit it out loud, though he was certain that AAARRRGGHH knew anyway, but he was discomfited by the idea of being alone with the Trollhunter. Her entire course of training so far had been a ‘roller-coaster’, as the humans might say, of high and low points. She was a savage fighter, but she broke the traditional rules of engagement by letting Draal live. She injured Bular the Vicious and kept both Blinky and AAARRRGGHH from being killed, and then he had gone and publicly humiliated her, disgracing himself by accusing her of being a Changeling. They found a piece of Killahead Bridge, uncovering the conspiracy of the millennia, and then the blasted woman went and flirted with him.

Her personality was as unpredictable as a Stalkling’s hunting habits, and nearly as predatory. She certainly wasn’t like Kanjigar, who was steady and consistent in every aspect.

Of course, it probably helped that he had known Kanjigar for a few hundred years. Admittedly, Alexandra had not had many opportunities to relax…or, frankly, to trust them.

Blinky paused in the middle of his absent muttering and agitated fidgeting to take a box out of AAARRRGGHH’s hands.

“Careful…”
“Ah, the Bridge piece. Should we take it for comparison…?”
He gently opened the box, his eyes catching the glimpse of an edge before he shut it firmly.

“No,” he said. “Too dangerous. If they have pieces assembled already, we cannot afford to gift them with another.”

AAARRRGGHH shifted and settled down beside him. For the first time in an hour Blinky stayed in one spot, running his hands over and over the box.

He turned it about, examining the decorations carved into the wooden lid and sides, the metalwork on the iron hinges. The key rested in the keyhole, and he softly locked it, then unlocked it. The key turned, the box opened smoothly when he lifted the lid.

He locked it. Tested the closure – unlocked it. Opened it. No problem.

Alexandra hadn’t been able to open the box.

Closed the box, locked it. Unlocked it. Opened the box.

Something underneath his skin was crawling with an uncomfortable prickling.

The funny thing about protective boxes was that they often had a charm or spell on them, to shield whatever was within. Some boxes sensed evil intentions; some could only be opened by women; some only by someone who sang the password.

Many boxes from the time of the war, however, had been made to only open to trolls. Any human, goblin, or Changeling that attempted the lock would be refused.

Alexandra couldn’t open the box.

Great Gronka Morica, he was doing it again!

“Things would go much more smoothly if I could stop doubting the woman,” Blinky angrily muttered, locking the box and pushing it into back AAARRRGGHH’s hands.

“Enough of this,” he said to himself. AAARRRGGHH gave him an encouraging little grin when he looked up, and he braced himself for an interesting night.

They waited for her by the gyre station, and they didn’t have to wait long.

Alexandra came marching up to them, slightly damp and smelling of sulfur. She waved the Daylight Amulet in front of her.

“Did you know it teleports?” she asked, a grin spreading across her mouth. “It’s exhausting but I can get short distances from it.”

“That’s not from one of the Trollhunters’ stones,” Blinky murmured, looking at the amulet in confusion. “What did you put in it?”
“Nothing! It teleports back whenever I throw it at something, so I thought that it could do it with me too. It took a while and you’ve really got to concentrate on not existing, which is really kind of funky, but it works! Don’t you think this will be useful in a fight? It’s too tiring to use more than a few times and only for a few feet probably but…”
Alexandra continued to ramble, to AAARRRGGHH and Blinky’s amazement. He had never seen her so openly excited about something; his library and Kanjigar’s had been met with wide eyes and interest, but she had kept her enthusiasm to a minimum. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her talk so much at one time.

“You discovered a new power?”
Alexandra grinned down at him, silently donned her armor, and disappeared.

Blinky whirled around as she appeared right behind him, looking a bit winded but bright-eyed and elated.

“Indeed I have,” she said with elated smirk. AAARRRGGHH happily poked at her as Blinky laughed.

“Good Gorgus, you’re unlocking your armor! That has never happened so quickly – even Kanjigar the Courageous took over a year to begin exploring the amulet’s power.”
Alexandra preened.

“This is an incredible discovery – but you must be cautious,” Blinky said as he thought more on the potential drawbacks. “If it is truly exhausting, then you must be exceeding careful when and how you use it. Only in the more dire of circ*mstances could this be utilized, until your mastery of it grows stronger.”
Alexandra nodded seriously, taking the horngazel off of Blinky and opening the portal to the gyre. The light from the portal bounced off her armor, and Blinky noticed that she walked differently, stood differently than she had when first entering Trollmarket. Some unknown power had straightened her back and relaxed her center, until she actually looked comfortable in both her own skin and in her environment. The armor finally suited her.

The world above was experiencing midday as they said their goodbyes to AAARRRGGHH and left the portal. Sunlight brightened the sewer tunnels indirectly, filtered through street drains and manhole covers. It wasn’t enough to harm him, but Blinky avoided the brightest areas anyway. He was exceedingly nervous without AAARRRGGHH’s vast, calm presence. They had traversed the sewers many times together, and to be crossing the tunnels without his regular companion was jarring to say the least.

Blinky led the way, having mapped the sewers years ago. It had been a very long time since he’d used the underground tunnels to visit the museum, but he was confident that he knew how to get there. Their journey was silent for the most part, the muffled rumble of automobiles, running water, and soft dripping echoing with their quiet footsteps. Occasionally a drop of water would leak from a pipe and plink against Alexandra’s armor.

He couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“Master Alexandra, I must speak,” Blinky whispered. She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like I wondered how long it would take.

“I must apologize,” said Blinky quietly, “about how we have behaved toward you. You have acted honorably toward us all, and we mistrusted you as a stranger. I accused you of being a Changeling with only conjecture and presumption, something that could have been the death of you. We did not trust that the amulet knew what it was doing, we did not trust your unorthodox methods, and I fear that our suspicion and skepticism has been detrimental to both your training and your reputation as Trollhunter.”
Alexandra said nothing, looking forward into the passageway with furrowed brows and tense mouth.

“…I suppose I didn’t really give you reason to trust me,” she murmured, after a long minute of silence. “I was secretive about what I’d done with Kanjigar, I’ve been reserved about myself…and I am a stranger. Kanjigar, at least, you knew before he became the Trollhunter, right?”
Blinky nodded and she smiled grimly.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity or the willingness to open up to people,” she whispered. “It’s a lot safer to be on your own, but…perhaps it’s not always the best.”

“You have a support system now,” Blinky said, keeping his eyes to the dark of the tunnel. He hoped to every Trollhunter he’d previously admired that she wouldn’t take his words the wrong way.

“I, for one, will support you in whatever you endeavor,” he mumbled. Alexandra snorted quietly and examined her hands.

“I guess a filthy sewer isn’t a horrible place to make a new friend,” she said. “And I’m sorry, for making you feel uncomfortable.”

Blinky raised an eyebrow, finally looking her in the eye. She was gazing steadily back. He hadn’t realized until then how horrific her scarred eye was; knotted shut, the still-healing skin around the rip across her cheek and nose raised and jagged. Even for trolls, it was an ugly scar, on top of a debilitating injury.

“I was trying to disorient you…and you’re far too old for me, anyway.”

“Mmm? By what margin, might I ask?”
“A good two hundred years, at least,” Alexandra murmured, fiddling with the amulet in her pocket. “I was born around 1630 or so.”

Blinky felt a bit of glee at actually getting that tiny bit of information, and resolved not to look up all troll children born within a ten-year margin of 1630. If he was going to respect her properly, then he would start with not digging into her frustrating and elusive family history.

They continued forward in silent amicability until they came upon a passage too immense, too rough, to be part of the man-made tunnels leading to it. The air smelled very heavily of troll and very faintly of goblin.

Alexandra took point then, silently summoning her armor and drawing her sword. The tunnel looked hand-carved, widened until someone Bular’s size could comfortably reach their arms and stand straight.

They met nobody in the tunnel, and at the very end was a thick sheet of metal covering the ceiling. Alexandra motioned for Blinky to stand back, and placed a hand on her amulet.

Her eyes closed and her head turned upward, and Blinky understood that she was using the stone of Hloda the Thunderous to listen for anyone within the museum.

Having nothing else to look at, one eye slid down until it rested on her hands, gripping the roughened wall in front of them. Four fingers on the bottom; five on the top.

Alexandra looked down an inch, and raised an eyebrow.

“You like my genetic anomalies?” she whispered tensely. Blinky couldn’t answer before she shook her head.

“I don’t hear anything,” she murmured. “I’m going up.”
“Er…is there anything I…?”
“Stay here,” she whispered forcefully. “I can turn invisible; you can’t.”

Blinky nodded and stepped back. Alexandra banished her armor and slowly pushed the sheet of metal away from the opening. Blinky gave her a leg up, blinking in the pale light that flooded into the pitch-black tunnel, and then she disappeared, pushing the metal back into its place.

He desperately hoped that Bular was asleep somewhere and not wandering around the sewers, about to come back to the museum. All he had on him was the horngazel and the daily detritus in his pockets, and he was too short to properly reach the opening himself.

Stuck by himself in the darkness, he could only think.

She was older than he’d supposed. Perhaps her family had travelled with the Winthrop fleet in 1630, which had carried twenty-two trolls between their ships. But to his knowledge, none of his sister clan’s members had journeyed to the Americas until 1637. And he was certain of that, because he and Vendel had been the only trolls in the New World documenting immigration and birth records at that time, until colonies of trolls were established over more of the continent.

(Or her family had bribed Blinky’s contacts on the East Coast to not document them)

(Or her family had snuck ashore and avoided the contacts)

(Or, or, or)

Which probably meant that Alexandra, again, had lied through her teeth. And he’d thought that she was truly opening up! Why couldn’t the infuriating woman just give him a straight fact for once in their acquaintance? Apparently she still thought it better not to trust people, including her trainer!

Blinky fumed and paced for a few minutes after that revelation, grumbling to himself. He supposed that he didn’t have to know her past or her age or her history or anything about her to trust her as the Trollhunter. The amulet had chosen her, whatever she decided to keep from everyone.

At least she hadn’t truly been trying to court him. That was a thought that gave him shivers. Not only would it have been highly inappropriate, but the contradictory imbalances of power between them would have made such an action into a very difficult situation, since she was both his student and his superior. Although the Trollhunter was technically a servant of his or her people they still held quite a lot of power and clout, despite not actually being a leader of trollkind. Trollhunters were awarded special privileges and exemptions, although they were certainly not immune to punishment from higher powers. To Blinky’s knowledge no trainer had been flirted at by their Trollhunter, but it would have put them in an exceptionally awkward position of either bedding their student or refusing someone of a higher rank than they.

The knowledge that Alexandra hadn’t meant anything by her false advance, but was willing to use whatever wiles and tricks were up her sleeves to disorient her enemies, both amused and unsettled Blinky. Flirting with Bular, for example, could only end in disaster.

And thinking of, what in Deya’s good name were they going to do about the bridge? Even if they found the thing, they would have to take on Bular, a horde of goblins, and however many Changelings the Gumm-Gumm had access to in order to destroy it. Although Alexandra had advanced incredibly fast, she was still relatively inexperienced and unknown in relation to Trollhunters before her, and Blinky knew that she was going to burn out soon. She had researched and trained tirelessly since being chosen, and although he admired her commitment to her duty he knew that the vexatious woman still was not taking care of herself. Some time or another he would have to supplement her Trollhunter training with lessons on how to eat and rest like a proper damn troll (pardoning his own horrible sleep patterns).

There was a sudden rustling from up top, and he was briefly blinded as the sheet of metal was yanked away. Alexandra dropped down the hole and reached up to pull it closed, enclosing them once more in darkness.

Blinky didn’t have time to ask her what had happened before his right hands were grabbed and he was pulled into a run. He stumbled for a moment before finding his legs, but Alexandra didn’t speak or slow down. Just before they turned the corner the metal scraped, and light flooded the tunnel behind them. Alexandra shoved Blinky ahead of her and turned around, throwing her sword toward the light. There was a brief, pained squawk.

“The horngazel,” she whispered to Blinky, summoning her sword again. “The horngazel, give it to me!”
Blinky shoved the crystal into her hands and she doubled back, slicing a goblin in half and pulling the metal sheet closed again. She drew a yellow circle around the edge of it and slashed a red X inside the circle, effectively sealing it from everything but brute force.

They ran again as she pocketed the crystal.

“Where…where did you learn that?” Blinky gasped, pulling on the Trollhunter’s arm as she started to go down the wrong tunnel.

“You gave me an entire library,” Alexandra said incredulously. “I looked up the protections of Trollmarket first thing!”

“And what in Deya’s name happened back there? Did you see the Bridge?”
They came upon a corner and Alexandra stopped them, peering carefully around the edge before continuing. They were coming out of Bular’s pathways and back into the main sewer.

“A Changeling saw me,” Alexandra whispered, her head turning to every drop of water or groan of piping. “I messed up with the invisibility stone, lost my concentration. I did see the Bridge, it’s more than half f*cking complete!”

Blinky cursed under his breath. “You’re sure it was a Changeling?”

“It’s the curator of the museum, I think. And I should think she’s a damn Changeling, because human eyes don’t normally glow.”

This was a dire confirmation. Unlike goblins, who came as a legion of many, Changelings usually worked alone or in small groups, but even one was formidable enough.

They walked quickly and quietly through the tunnels as Blinky tried to contain his despair.

After centuries, everything was suddenly happening all at once, and so quickly.

“Did you see Bular?”
Alexandra shook her head.

“No, and I almost wish I had. At least then we’d know where…he was. Um.”

She slowed to a stop and looked back to where they came. Now that they were no longer running, Blinky realized that he did not recognize the tunnel.

“Speaking of which, where are we?”
A shiver of fear ran down Blinky’s spine as looked around. He’d led them the wrong way.

“A little faster, Blinky, we’ve got a goblin horde wanting to eat us.”

“If you will let me concentrate!”

“Ya f*cked up, didn’t you.”
“One wrong turn, and I could remember if you would – “

A high-pitched, distant shriek cut him off. He and Alexandra both backed away from the sound.

“I don’t care where we end up as long as it’s away from here,” the Trollhunter whispered furiously. “When darkness falls we can get up to the surface. For now let’s just get the hell moving.”

Blinky’s legs ached as they began to run through the tunnels again, taking turns at random to try and get away from wherever the goblins were coming from. They moved from the wider sewers to smaller passages, ducking under a mess of pipework to continue.

“You can use your amulet, Master Alexandra,” Blinky said. “The Leoht stone. We cannot outrun them when we have no idea where we are.”
“I’m not leaving you down here by yourself,” Alexandra muttered, idly brushing away a droplet of filthy water. “With any luck, you’d walk right into the den of goblins.”
“I thought I was to be the ‘cannon fodder’,” he replied. Alexandra ignored him and held out a hand, co*cking her head as if listening for something. And then Blinky heard it.

There was a rustling, like some creature trying to scrape through the tunnels. Alexandra froze in the spot and Blinky walked into her outstretched hands, so tense it was as if she had been turned to stone.

The scraping came again. The tunnels distorted sound in an eerie fashion, but even so Blinky could tell that whoever was underground with them was immense.

Alexandra slowly turned to him. Her eyes glowed very, very slightly in the darkness, and he barely made out what she silently mouthed.

Bular.

He nodded, and they turned around, creeping as quietly in the opposite direction as they could. Picking a fight with the son of Gunmar in a cramped tunnel was not the best course of action in this case, not in the least because Blinky was almost certain that he would be killed. Once they got into a larger tunnel, it might be a different story, but for now, retreat was necessary.

Alexandra almost ran into a pipe, and Blinky had to grab her to keep her helmet from clanging against the dripping metal. The resulting clamor of armor shocked both of them, and the rustling suddenly increased.

“Run.”

Blinky didn’t need to be told twice; he took point and booked it as fast as his short legs could carry him. Alexandra, taller, broader, and clanking like an armory in an earthquake, fell behind him, and he only hoped that she didn’t brain herself on a loose piece of pipe or masonry.

There was a frenzied disturbance in the tunnels, drawing closer, but in the concrete labyrinth it was difficult to tell exactly where it was coming from. Blinky and Alexandra turned a corner at random, just as Blinky realized that the sound was coming from that tunnel…

…and there was Draal, sitting on the floor and being climbed on by almost twenty stray cats.

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

What falls and what grows,

What reaps and what sows,

Cares nothing for beauty or bane;

In changing field,

The flower must yield,

And the weed will grow in again.

The three of them just stared at each other for a few moments, Draal’s shoulders tensing as Blinky ogled at the felines.

“They, erm…like me,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh my God…”

He looked bad, but better than when she’d kicked him out. The arm and eye she’d turned to stone during their duel were almost completely healed, to the point where he only had a few stiff fingertips. His torn nose hadn’t finished healing but that hadn’t stopped him from putting a bent piece of rebar through the damaged tissue anyway. When he stood he stood tall, without any stoop or limp, and Alex was actually relieved to see him well. Filthy, but well.

He’d made efforts to keep himself clean, but he was in the human underground, not the troll tunnels, and sometimes mere effort just wasn’t enough.

“You realize where you’ve been living,” she asked. A bit of damp grime unattached itself from the ceiling and splattered on her shoulder.
“I do have a sense of smell, Trollhunter.”
“Yes, and so do we. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. We can’t stay here long.”

Draal followed behind her and a bemused, somewhat unhappy Blinky with little complaint. Honestly, he just looked happy to see someone who wasn’t a cat.

“I doubt I would receive a hearty welcome home, Trollhunter,” Draal murmured as they walked, his strays trailing behind him like a parade. “Take care to remember that I was banished.”

“It was more like unofficially ostracized. There was no actual banishment or casting-out,” Alex said. She took point, looking around each corner before going forward as Draal pointed out which tunnels to take.
“It is tradition.”
“It was implied. You can come back at any time.”
“They will not be happy about this,” Draal murmured mournfully.

“I have a big sword,” Alexandra replied. Blinky, at her side, looked mildly worried.

“He does have a point, Master Alexandra,” he said quietly, turning to her to try and block Draal out.

“No matter his state, he was dishonored, and thus is unable to return without having earned it.”
Alexandra snarled at him in demonstration.

“I also have pointy teeth.”

“And they are very menacing, yes, but you can’t just start swinging fist and foot at all who disagree with you! You are a part of our Heartstone now, a member of our collective tribes, which means that you have to follow the rules that our society dictates! Just because you are the Trollhunter does not give you the right to go gallivanting about, doing whatever you want!”
His tirade stopped when he noticed her grinning.
“And what, precisely, has you so amused!”
Alex laughed, the sound echoing in the damp tunnels.

“I was wondering when you would start yelling at me again,” she said, to his astonishment. Up ahead of them, the tunnel brightened.
“You’ve been tiptoeing ever since the whole ‘Changeling’ misunderstanding. I forgave you for that a while ago – I was just waiting for you to accept it.”

Blinky sputtered and blushed, as she knew he would, when they stepped through the torn grate and out of the tunnel.

Alexandra went first, watching the underside of the bridge for any unpleasant visitors. She hated this place now.

Mid-afternoon was raging above them, the noise of cars and their radios echoing inside the canal. Traversing the canal in broad daylight was a fantastically bad idea, given the likelihood of being seen by the humans on the bridge, but they were running out of options. Sunset was hours away, and the sewers were completely unsafe.

Several of the cats that trailed behind Draal spread out, wandering around the edges of the canal.

“Hold on,” said Draal to Blinky, behind her. “You knew she was a Changeling too?”
“I was grossly mistaken,” whispered Blinky morosely. “I accused her of such in front of the entire market, to my eternal embarrassment and shame. She proved me both a liar and a fool and wait just one blasted minute, what do you mean ‘too’?! You thought that she was a Changeling?”
Alexandra’s hair stood up, but she couldn’t tell if it was from the conversation or if she felt someone watching them. The underside of the bridge looked empty, but she knew Bular to be adept at keeping himself unseen. There were also goblins and other Changelings to worry about. She didn’t like the feel of this.

I hate this f*cking bridge.

“Is she not?”
“Of course not!” Blinky fervently hissed. “I made a humiliating miscalculation, and she proved it with a gaggletack, even! But if you suspected the same thing, why did you not come forward?”
Alexandra didn’t hear an answer, meaning that Draal must have merely gestured. She wanted to focus on the conversation but couldn’t, and she turned around with a last, suspicious glance.

“I’ve got a bad feeling,” she said, interrupting the two. “Do you want to risk it, or head back?”

“I would like to get out of these blasted sewers sometime today,” said Blinky. “This is an…uneasy place, however.”
“I cannot go back,” said Draal, gesturing to the other end of the bridge. Alexandra smacked him on the arm, and then wiped her hand on her vest.

“You can stay by the staircase until I can sneak you in,” she said, “But I’m not just going to leave you here.”
Draal looked mildly stunned, but Blinky was smiling.

“I can take care of myself, Trollhunter,” said the larger troll.

“But my being Trollhunter means that you don’t have to,” she replied quietly. Draal shifted uncomfortably.

Softy, from the darker end of the tunnel, the faintest, slowest “Waka chaka…” echoed from the gloom.

All three of them stiffened. Alexandra grabbed their arms with her four, and gently pushed them out of the grate.

The goblin down the tunnel looked to be alone, so far, and was watching her curiously. She kept eye contact with it as she backed through the bent bars, not looking away until the others caught her, preventing her from walking backwards into a ray of sunlight.

The shadow of the bridge bowed somewhat from the movement of the sun, and they walked completely silently along the darkened line. Perhaps, if they could get to the other side without triggering the goblins’ ire, they might make it without a fight. They just needed to stay quiet and slow.

Without warning, all of the cats scattered, every one of them bolting away from the group and out of the canal, and Alexandra knew…

…’By the pricking of my thumbs’…

…that they were about to get their asses beat.

“RUN!”

Draal caught the horngazel as she pushed it into his hands.

“You’re the fastest, get that portal open NOW!”

He loped away, leaving her and Blinky to trail after him with their stupidly short legs.

Above them, laughter rang.

“Do you just hang around there all day, waiting for someone to come out?”

Bular landed on the concrete with a resounding CRACK, the ground sending up little shards. Alex summoned her sword and chipped off a piece of his arm before he could draw his own weapon, and then booked it as fast as she could away from him, teleporting just a few feet ahead.

Better prepared as she was, she still didn’t want to risk Blinky and Draal’s lives by engaging and possibly dying in a fight.

Bular easily caught up with her, however fast she ran, and he slammed his head into her side, chucking her a good fifteen feet across the shadow. Glow from the armor trailed after her but she could feel the puncture from his horns, and it bled alarmingly across the concrete. Her bottom left shoulder wrenched as she landed badly, and only Draal’s alarmed bellow saved her from getting her head caved in when Bular tried to jump her. She twisted her sword up at the last second and he fell heavily upon it, the blade piercing his hip.

It was odd, how sun-staining smelled. It was slow, like burning dust in an old heater, but although it lacked the decay of flesh it still smelled dead.

The leathers Bular wore protected him from being sliced in half, but his scream of anguish echoed across the canal, and as he fell to the ground his right leg and half his hip and tail turned to stone. Alexandra was too busy trying to stop her own bleeding to celebrate the hit. The adrenalin and pain were making things too fast and too shaky. She smelled blood and it made her heart race sickeningly.

“Trollhunter! Here!” Draal yelled, a bright blue light behind him indicating the opening of the portal. Flashes of green and rough, deep shrieks told her more than she needed to know about how many goblins there really were, and all of them were trying to get through the door.

Bular twisted and grabbed her foot as she tried to run, pulling her over his jagged body to slam against the ground on his other side. She shoved her foot against his face and got a heel full of screaming teeth for her effort, even if she was able to push herself away. Bular levered himself to standing, using one of his swords as a cane, the other no less deadly for the shaking hand that held it.

Alexandra scrambled to her feet and watched his eyes.

At the end of the canal, a flash of blue caught her gaze and she pulled off her helmet, throwing it as hard as she could at Draal, who was coming to help her. It caught him on the collarbone and she held out a hand.

“Don’t,” she said quietly, knowing that Draal would hear her.

“You’re still injured and I need you to go home,” she hissed. “Please keep the portal secure, and don’t let anything else in!”

Out of her periphery, the blue mass that was Draal backed up and kicked an invading goblin into the wall, leaving a smear of green. He and Blinky settled firmly against the open portal, slapping away goblins, and she turned all three eyes back on Bular.

The shadow of the bridge had lengthened with the progressing sun to where she could not dart around Bular without him reaching her, even with his injury.

Six feet to the left, sunlight shimmered with heat.

If I tackle him, I can get him into the sun, she thought, shifting her feet uneasily as Bular carefully watched her movements. He was being curiously and disturbingly silent.

Blinky know I’ve got the Leoht Stone, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine! Maximum effort!

Alexandra ground her feet into the concrete and launched herself at the son of Gunmar, slashing at his face so that he was forced to lean backward and unbalance himself. She tackled him around the middle and the weight of her threw him across the shadow. She thought that she was succeeding, until his arms grabbed her around the middle and suddenly they weren’t so much being pushed by her tackle as falling, directly down onto the concrete. He used her momentum to fling her over his head, and she desperately dug her sword into the ground to keep from rolling backward. She skid to a jolting stop just inside of the shadow.

Bular flipped onto his stomach and pushed himself up with a snarl. He began to lever himself up again, and then stopped suddenly, his eyes focused on her right leg. She glanced back at it with a single eye.

The foot was in the sun. And Bular didn’t know about the stone!

With a panicked yell Alexandra summoned her sword and threw it at Bular’s face, rolling toward him in time to catch the hilt as he knocked it away with a shake of his horned head. He grabbed her by her own horns and slammed her face into the concrete. The smells of cement and aggregate and flood residue mixed with stinging blood in her nose and the sudden welling of tears, the sense curiously heightened as the ground eight inches in front of her face blurred dizzingly.

Bular leaned down, using the side of her head to balance himself, and the acrid smell of old blood and digested flesh spread over her face in a warm, close gust.

“I. Saw,” he whispered in her ear.

Utterly immobilized beneath his immense weight, her helmet shivered and screeched as Bular’s claws dug into it.

“I’m half tempted to let you go, just to watch you die by those you’re sworn to protect.”

“How chivalrous,” Alex muttered, the words muffled with half her mouth ground into the dirty concrete. Out of the corner of one eye, Blinky and Draal were occupied with the invading horde of goblins.

Hell with it.

She half-transformed her head and body. Bular was thrown off balance by the sudden lack of horns beneath his hand and he fell for half a second, and that was all she needed. Body made smaller for a critical instant, she pulled her legs over her stomach and shoved them into his abdomen, turning back fully and levering his body off of her.

But even half stone-turned and slower he was massive, and he lashed out with one foot as she tried to scramble away from him.

The heel connected with her injured side, and in a panic Alexandra teleported.

She landed ten feet in the wrong direction, and sunlight blinded her.

Whoops-a-f*cking-daisy was the only thought that crossed through her mind.

The sunlight beat down on her troll skin for the first time in years. Her body was warring with her, it knew that despite its immunity it shouldn’t be in the sun, and she fought the instinctive urge to turn to her human form, but –

- Blinky and Draal were just in the shadows, staring at her with open mouths, and never had the heat of the sun felt so cold. She was well aware that Blinky knew about the Leoht Stone, but…still. She knew the stone was a lie, even if he didn’t, and never had she intended him or anyone to see her like this.

Back in the shadow, Bular chuckled. Alexandra trembled as he murmured the word she had always hated; the word she trained herself not to flinch at; that motherf*cking word that she had not been called by anyone still alive in over fifty years:

“Impure.”

She almost threw up with the beating of her heart so hard in her throat, but as Bular laughed she drew herself up, brushed off her armor, shouldered her sword, and walked calmly in the sunlight away from his stricken form. He made no effort to follow her; the sound of his laughter was enough to dog her footsteps. But where she walked he could not follow, and his eyes burned as they watched her. She’d injured him the worse, but he’d won this fight.

Blinky and Draal both drew away from her when she re-entered the shadow, as if they were expecting her to turn to stone then and there. Alexandra winked at Blinky and stepped through the portal, and was shut back into safety.

Her skin was still warm from the sun. Blood and pain were still pulsing from the wounds on her side and face and bitten foot, and she slid down the wall with a groan.

“I love Sigrid the Shadowless,” she murmured to her knees. “Good work with the goblins, gentlemen.”

“A most fortuitous choice of gem,” said Blinky faintly. When Alex looked she saw that he was actually a bit pale, on the bits that weren’t smeared with green gore.

Alex laughed and nodded.

“I’m not quite ready to spend eternity with those ghostly assholes,” she said, clutching at her side as she banished the armor. Draal knelt beside her and poked at her abdomen.

“We need to take you to Vendel,” he said. “Although…does he know?”
Alexandra, who suddenly found herself having difficulty staying awake, forced herself to rouse.

“Hmm? Know ‘bout what?”
“That you are a Changeling, Trollhunter. Are we really not talking about this?”
Alex pushed herself up with a groan.

“Draal, I’m not a Changeling,” she said firmly, banishing the armor and unlocking the back of the amulet. Her fingers fumbled as she pried the Leoht Stone out of the casing but she managed to shove it underneath Draal’s ridiculous rebar hoop.

“This stone belonged to the Trollhunter Sigrid the Shadowless, and it grants the user the ability to walk in daylight. I’d say it was pretty useful. Help me up.”

Alex pushed her arm against Draal’s chest, forcing him to grab it and pull her to her feet, where she actually swayed.

Blinky swooped into action, activating the crystal staircase and hopping down them as quickly as he could.

“Draal is correct that you need medical attention, Master Alexandra. Wait right there, please, I shall fetch AAARRRGGHH…”

Alex ignored him and started down the stairs, leaving smears of blood on the glowing crystals.

A trickle of blood tickled the back of her throat and she coughed. Damn, her nose was broken again.

The loud echo seemed to loosen Draal’s tongue, at least. Alex had wondered vaguely how long he could stay quiet.

“Why did you lie to Blinky,” Draal said as he helped her over the wider gaps in the stairs. She hopped a little on her unbitten foot and glared at him.

“I didn’t lie,” she said calmly. “I’m not a Changeling.”

“I once had an understanding with an Impure,” he returned. “I recognized your scent, eventually, and your habits.”

Alexandra stopped, and so did he, and he backed up when she turned to him with glowing eyes.

She wanted to throw Draal against the wall and threaten to remove a limb, for calling her that – but it would do no good. Her heart wasn’t into threatening someone she finally would admit to considering a friend, and she knew that being as monstrous and violent as possible, although it was significantly easier, was not a better alternative to actually being open and honest for once.

Her fists clenched, but she did not draw her sword.

“Don’t call us that again,” she said quietly. “I honestly don’t care what you think of Changelings, personally or in general, but don’t call us that again. There is nothing about me that is impure.”

She grabbed Draal’s filthy arm again to see what he would do, and when he didn’t flinch or back away further she leaned on him again.

“Why didn’t you tell Blinky,” she whispered.

“I…I spent many long days pondering what to do, when I realized what you are. You were chosen by the same amulet that chose my father, and which had refused me. You spared my life, and saved it again today. Whatever you may be I believe you have earned your right to be here, and to have your secrets.”

Alex nearly wanted to cry.

“Damn straight I have,” she murmured furiously. “I guess this means I won’t have to threaten you with decapitation?”
The giant blue idiot’s laughter shook the crystal stairs, just as AAARRRGGHH and Blinky reached the bottom and began to climb.

“If it would make you feel better, Trollhunter,” he said. Alex let go of his arm and allowed AAARRRGGHH to pick her up like some blood-smeared, eight-foot baby.

What an asshole.

Vendel was not amused to have a bleeding Trollhunter brought inside the Heartstone, and even less amused to hear about the Bridge. Blinky filled him and AAARRRGGHH in on what had happened as AAARRRGGHH placed Alexandra down on a stone table.

Vendel moved aside a few odd-looking bits of his work and held an old eyeglass up to Alexandra’s side, peeling back the edges of her blood-sodden vest to see the puncture. After a brief glance he set his staff against the table and moved forward for a closer look.

“Were you even wearing your armor,” he mumbled grumpily. Alexandra hissed as he poked at the puncture.

“As a matter of fact I was, but Bular decided that my stomach was a good spot to smash his face into.”

“Hmph. I am waiting for the day I hear that you have gone the same way as poor Unkar the Unfortunate. You certainly seem to encounter Bular enough to make it a distinct possibility. Disrobe.”

“What can I say,” Alexandra croaked, sitting up with difficulty and trying to get her wrenched arm out of her vest. “I’ve always had a thing for tall, dark, and murderous.”

Vendel put a massive hand to her back to balance her, and rolled his eyes.

“Deya save us from a Trollhunter with a sense of humor,” he said. Alex dropped her vest on the floor and he lay her back down.

He worked in silence from that point, save for the occasional mumble, and Alexandra did not dare relax. Finally laying down was tricking her brain into thinking that it was time to actually sleep for once, and she needed to be alert for the right moment to make her escape. Getting medical attention from someone who knew what he was doing, instead of buying a poultice or a healing crystal at a stall and hoping that it would be enough, was great but not when Vendel would be perfectly in place to see how quickly troll medicines worked on her mish-mashed physiology. She couldn’t relax, not now. Draal was still waiting at the portal entrance and she needed to get out before Vendel wondered why her skin was healing so much faster than it was supposed to.

He made sure that her shoulder wasn’t dislocated and set her nose back to its usual crooked place, but otherwise paid closest attention to the puncture on her side. After an agonizingly long time, Vendel declared the wound too shallow to have missed anything more than muscle and fatty tissue, and he slathered something tingly over it.

“How long have I got. Be honest.”

The old troll snorted as he wiped his hands.

“With any luck, several centuries more,” he said, surprisingly softly. “With each battle you make you seem to strike a crippling blow. Perhaps next time you’ll actually kill the vicious brute.”
“’Thought you didn’t ask me to kill Bular,” Alex murmured. Vendel shook his head and walked over to the side of the cavern.

“It seems that I do not need to, Trollhunter,” he said. “By yourself you’ve come closer to it than most of your predecessors.”

He put a hand to the wall of the Heartstone and bent his head. After a moment of silence, a tiny chuck of yellow crystal broke off of the wall to his left and he deftly caught it.

Alexandra stared with wide eyes as he walked back to her and pressed the crystal shard, as wide as her hand was long, against her side.

“What did you just do,” she asked. Vendel used his staff to pick her filthy vest off of the floor.

“The Heartstone shares its essence with us,” he said, “and on occasion will also share pieces of itself to hasten a troll’s recovery from sickness or injury. Keep that on your side, and hopefully I will not have to see you in here anytime soon.”

Alex was just glad that she was allowed to leave so soon, but he stopped her with a sharp tap on the shin.

“Don’t move,” he said grumpily. “There are a few medicines I have to give you, and I’ll have AAARRRGGHH take you back to your chambers. The less you move, the better.”

Alexandra innocently languished on the stone table while he slowly stomped away, and when he was finished packing her a medicine bag she swung her legs over the table and hopped off, failing to bite back an anguished yelp but managing to snatch the bag from Vendel’s hand and book it to the exit.

“Trollhunter, get back here!”
Alex gimped away as fast as she could.

“Thank you, I feel great!”

She heard Vendel mutter something angrily, his staff thunking against the floor, but he did not pursue her.

“Then I will heavily advise you to not walk until tomorrow morning, at the earliest, for all that I expect you will listen to me.”

“Of course, but I’ve still got to go fetch Draal,” she said, the door closing behind her just as she heard a startled yelp.

“What?!”

Alexandra could have said a lot about the troll equivalent of twiddling their thumbs when she laboriously climbed up the stairs to find Draal balancing bits of rocks and crystals into little stacks, but for the lost look on his face she said nothing except an order to carry her back down.

The market wasn’t as empty as she would have liked when they entered and enough trolls were out and about to spread the word of Draal the Destroyer’s homecoming. She’d made Draal put her down, not wanting to be carried in plain sight for the second time that night, and her slow, painful pace hampered their progress.

“What is he doing here,” said a one-eyed troll. Alexandra shooed Draal past him and elbowed aside another who was in their way.

“He’s here because I asked him to come back, and you don’t actually need to be assholes about it,” she said firmly, making a few members of the crowd tut disapprovingly.

“Everybody have a good evening,” Alexandra yelled, glaring at the trolls in their way until they backed down. She slowly led Draal through the marketplace and into the residential quarters, where he picked her up again without her needing to ask.

Her rooms smelled better, at least, since she’d gotten the gnome to start taking out the mess that the cats made. He still lived in a hole in the wall of her bathroom, but enjoyed the wrappings of whatever foods she’d bought over the day, and the cats had learned not to try any play with him lest they get a tiny, painful bite on whatever offending foot tried to bat at him. She saw him skitter back into his hole as Draal set her down and closed the door.

“Just stay here,” she said, gently shooing two cats away with her foot. The felines clearly recognized Draal as the person who had brought them to Alexandra and they crowded around him. “Your old place was taken over, I already asked. Unless you’d like to stay in your father’s rooms?”
Draal, knuckling a happy cat on the head, murmured a negative.

“I have not visited those rooms in years,” he said quietly. “It would not feel right, even now that he is gone.”

Your father sucked as a dad, Alex thought, resolving to bring some of her cats over to Kanjigar’s place just so that they could sh*t on his floor.

“I’ll take his room,” she said instead. “Everyone will be expecting you to stay there, not here. I’m still picking through his library, anyway.”

“You are bleeding on my floor, then, Trollhunter,” said Draal with a faint smile.

“It adds to the décor,” Alex replied. Just to be an imp she dragged her foot across the stone, blood from her bitten foot smearing from between the toes.

Draal snorted and lightly shoved her; the strength of the blow sent her tumbling roughly onto the nest. She kicked Draal in the leg when he sat next to her and grabbed her coddled-together medical kit from the floor. The brief, vaguely fond exchange was almost too friendly for Alexandra’s comfort, too close, too familiar – but in all honesty she didn’t have the energy or the heart to keep more of a distance.

Bloodied vest and pants were added to the pile of leathers on the nest, and he dabbed a sweet-smelling tincture over the ragged puncture in her side. The fragment of Heartstone that Vendel had given her was applied again to the wound.

“Hold it there.”

Alexandra patiently held still as he tended to her wounds, feeling the aches in her body slowly build up as she allowed her muscles to finally relax. The tension that seemed to hold her upright fled, and every hit and bruise made itself known.

Alex almost fell asleep while Draal was wrapping up her foot; she awoke to find herself slathered in poultices and ointments, with a fluffy grey cat curling up between her left horn and her cheek and Draal settling in behind her.

“Should call yourself ‘Draal the Cuddlebug’,” she mumbled sleepily. A crystal-laden arm slid under her spine and pulled her onto her side, just as the other one crawled over her torso and pushed her back against his chest.

“No. No. You have your own bed now, let me go.”

Something that felt like a face pushed into the back of her head and she summoned her helmet just to spite him, moving her head so that her back horns poked him in the cheek.

“Get your goddamn rebar out of my f*cking hair, you jackass.”

“You are welcome to leave, Trollhunter,” Draal murmured. His arms loosened enough that she could wiggle out without difficulty.

“I don’t want to exacerbate my injuries,” Alex said. She was seriously enjoying the warmth that he gave off, especially since she was still undressed and chilly from the poultices.

“Good excuse.”
“Shut up and go to sleep.”

Chapter 15

Chapter Text

The flower ere may bloom and brag

But to the weed will bow defeat.

The bleeding Trollhunter wasn’t much heavier than Blinky was, but her weight had seemed to carry more, seemed somehow more substantial, as AAARRRGGHH picked her up and took her through Trollmarket to Vendel. His eyes cut an acknowledging glance to the concerned-looking Draal, and then they left, leaving the banished troll alone on the crystal staircase.

Non-magical injuries really were treated in the examination dwell, but AAARRRGGHH knew personally how potent a balm the energy of the Heartstone could be to one who had been without for most of their life, and Alexandra had already looked more relaxed the closer they got to the massive crystal.

It might have been the blood loss, of course; apparently Bular had rent a sizable hole in the Trollhunter’s side, the dripping remains of which AAARRRGGHH wiped off of his hands as he and Blinky were shooed out the door. He picked up the Gumm-Gumm’s scent all over her, and wondered how on earth she managed to survive such a close fight again.

“It is as serious as it looks, but I can heal it,” Vendel said, “She must not exert herself in the next week. Now, let me work.”

The vaulted door shut in their faces. AAARRRGGHH turned to Blinky, who was still covered in drying bits of goblin.

“Oh, I hope it will be alright,” Blinky said quietly. AAARRRGHH hmm’d, watching the concern in his friend’s eyes. He wiped a smidge of green off of the shorter troll’s shoulder, only to leave a smear of blood instead.

“Get cleaned up,” he said, “Then talk.”
“Yes,” Blinky murmured. “There is much that I need to tell you, and I am uncertain how much further this information should travel.”

People moved out of their way as they walked toward the baths, obviously unsettled by their outsides being painted with insides.

The baths had a couple of occupants, all of whom fled at the grisly sight of AAARRRGGHH and Blinky, but AAARRRGGHH still checked the doorway and the hall beyond before squeezing past his friend and settling into one of the larger pools, allowing the warm darkness and lightly sulfuric air to relax his shoulders and hands.

“Although I did not envision this day going well, this is certainly not how I had expected it to end,” Blinky murmured, gingerly peeling off his gore-covered shorts and suspenders. He caught the fabric on a crystal in the edge of the water, letting the flow of the underground river gently clean them, and then slid into the pool, submerging completely and scrubbing his fingers through his hair.

AAARRRGGHH quickly rinsed off his arms and chest, eager to rid himself of the blood. It had been a very long time since he’d been covered in so much blood from a fellow troll, and he was not enthused by the repeat experience. His friend emerged from the pool and AAARRRGGHH gently turned him around, cupping his hands to pour water down his neck and back while wiping away little bits of goblin.

“Draal back,” he said. Blinky sighed and his shoulders slouched under AAARRRGGHH’s hands.

“Yes,” he said. “We came across him in the tunnels. The Trollhunter was adamant that he accompany us and I must admit, without his help I doubt I would have made it here unscathed. I am uncertain, however, as to how his return will be accepted. He is still disgraced among us.”

AAARRRGGHH sniffed and gingerly flicked a piece of eyeball from his friend’s shoulder. They had had a long discussion about Draal and the Trollhunter, when the former had first been unofficially banished. Alexandra had never expressed any shred of fondness toward the larger troll, but her every action told that she considered him a deep friend, especially taking into account their physical closeness in the short amount of time that they had known each other. AAARRRGGHH was well aware that Draal was short of true friends, preferring to associate with fans and followers, something that he had learned from Kanjigar. That was one of the few things that AAARRRGGHH was rather annoyed about when it came to the former Trollhunter: the distance he had taught to his son.

Alexandra didn’t preen and gather admirers like Draal did, but she still distanced herself from making real relationships. Her heart was wrapped in lying smiles and cutting words, and she only allowed people to see the parts of herself that she thought safe to expose. As Trollhunter, this was useful – but whatever she didn’t want people to see sliced her like glass on the inside. AAARRRGGHH had done away with such damaging practices centuries ago, but he recognized it like the drawing ache of an old wound when he saw it in their new acquaintance.

She had worked so hard to appear as studious and agreeable as possible, at first; the model of a perfect trainee Trollhunter. The fact that she now was deliberately acting in a way that would damage her small reputation simply for the sake of Draal’s safety and comfort, gave AAARRRGGHH hope that some of her heart was genuinely opening.

Blinky spoke for a very long while, in the soft darkness and quiet of the baths. He spoke of Alexandra’s apology and her maddening half-truths, the heart-stopping moment when she was exposed to sunlight, her attempts to retreat from battle in order to keep him and Draal safe.

Most damningly, he spoke of the Bridge.

AAARRRGGHH had hoped, so hoped, despite knowing that it would never come true – that the bridge was not really being rebuilt. More than anything, he did not want to go through this again. The uncertainty; the fear; the constant need to stay on guard and stay alert for any sign of danger or betrayal, was something he had been dreading ever since Vendel had sent them on their mission to England.

Perhaps it had been silly, to hope that everything would forever be fine. He was a realist, as Blinky would say; it had been a necessary part of the majority of his life. But even though he knew that Bular would never give up, even though he knew that Gunmar’s army would try to rise again, a tiny part of his heart had wished so desperately for it to never become a reality.

Blinky’s unending words petered to a whisper as AAARRRGGHH pulled his arms around his smaller friend and drew him back into his chest, burying his face against the top of Blinky’s head. He leaned backward and settled on a low shelf near the edge of the pool. Blinky’s weight was almost nonexistent in the water, but his warmth spread through AAARRRGGHH’s arms and chest and face like the soft, comforting whispers of the Heartstone’s hum, until he no longer smelled of fear or despair.

Blinky struggled for a brief moment, because the change in position meant that he was submerged up to his eyes, but once he could breathe he relaxed against his friend.

“Once more,” he murmured, softly patting his companion’s thigh, “we shall do this together.”

Blinky allowed the day to pass without bothering the Trollhunter or her returned charge; in deference to her injuries, or so he claimed. AAARRRGGHH knew that he wanted time to himself to sort everything out before dealing with it, and to allow Alexandra to sort out her own messes.

He imagined that getting Draal set up would be a major challenge in and of itself, given the young troll’s unwelcome status. And maybe with a day of rest from her other studies Alexandra would actually take the time to sleep and eat like a normal damn troll, something that his friend was complaining about excessively. Blinky busied himself within his library, re-reading everything he had on Changelings, Gunmar, and the Killahead Bridge, while AAARRRGGHH absorbed it all, acting as his sounding board and bouncing back theories and suppositions.

“The Janus Order must be active in this town, but how active? Would they have a base?”
“Maybe could infiltrate,” rumbled AAARRRGGHH, to Blinky’s agreement.

“Perhaps a glamour mask, then, but we would have to go at night in any case…”

Books were shuffled, scrolled were unfurled, a tapestry was consulted.

“Everything in here confirms what we already knew, that the Bridge cannot be opened unless by the Trollhunter themself. Master Alexandra would, of course, never do such a thing…”

Blinky rubbed his chin uncomfortably, two eyes looking up at AAARRRGGHH; they really didn’t know their Trollhunter very well.

“…Most probably. In any case, it would need to be fully rebuilt first. I cannot recall how much of it Master Alexandra said she saw completed; we shall have to ask later. But enough about the Bridge if it should open, which is an unlikelihood that can be discussed at a different time.”

AAARRRGGHH obligingly shuffled backward as Blinky reached past him to grab a tome from a high shelf.

“We could concern ourselves now with ensuring that it cannot be completed. We have in our possession one of the stones, which should be enough as long as we can manage to hold onto it. But…”
The wood and iron box containing the stone was stowed in the empty space the book had left, and then was covered by a smaller tome so that it didn’t stick out from the shelf.

“Mmm. Changelings,” AAARRRGGHH grumbled. Blinky sighed and nodded, patting AAARRRGGHH as high on the arm as he could reach.

“Indeed. We will have to be most diligent about who comes and who goes through Trollmarket’s portals. Unfortunately, we cannot vet every troll who comes to Trollmarket for its company or remedies – at least not without inciting a panic.”
A soft chuckle rumbled in AAARRRGGHH’s throat and Blinky rolled his eyes at him.

“I know that I have been incautious about such things before,” he said grumpily. “But it is imperative that any Changelings on the surface have no knowledge of our sensibility to their presence in Arcadia! If I shove a gaggletack under the nose of every troll in the Heartstone we will surely give them warning!”

“Blinky. Vendel. Alexandra. Draal. AAARRRGGHH.”
“Only those of us who know about the Bridge may be tested, and trusted,” Blinky interpreted, to AAARRRGGHH’s agreement.

“Then we will have to pay yet another visit to Rot and Gut.”

With a little bargaining they procured another gaggletack and made their way back to the Heartstone.

“Vendel?” AAARRRGGHH called.

“I dearly hope that you haven’t managed to injure yourself as well,” said the elder troll’s waspish voice.

“Ah, Vendel, good evening,” said Blinky. “Is our Trollhunter well enough to discuss – “
“She’s gone,” said Vendel, emerging from an adjacent room and looking exceedingly disgruntled.

Blinky, thrown off his track, fiddled with his hands.

“Ah. Should I assume that she is well enough to train, or that she’s decided that she is simply ‘well enough’?”

Vendel, pulling a set of bracers up his arms, chuffed a laugh.

“The latter,” he said, picking up a long pair of tongs and grasping a large, uncut gem. “She refused further medical attention and left once it was assured that she wouldn’t bleed to death. I would suggest looking in her rooms if you seek her; even with her stubbornness I doubt she would be up to training or studying.”

“We will do so with most haste. However, there is one matter that we need you to address specifically.”

He held out the gaggletack, incurring a raised eyebrow from the elder troll.

“For once, Blinkous, I will agree with your paranoid precautions.”
He took the gaggletack in hand and held it before them.

“I expect a briefing from you and the Trollhunter, once you find her,” he said quietly. “We will all need to discuss what is to be done next.”
Blinky took the gaggletack back and nodded.

They bid Vendel goodbye and left for the residential areas, unsurprised at the Trollhunter’s quiet break out. AAARRRGGHH remembered the Hunter being extremely reluctant to continue her physical training after her first few back-breaking sessions, but once she had gotten used to the exertion she seemed to relish her training, for all that she complained about it, and once she was injured she did not appreciate being fussed over.

They made it into the secluded corridor of Alexandra’s rooms and he was hit with the scent of her comings and goings, as obvious as if she were standing in front of him.

The sweet smell of cat; the sourness of ink; the cloy of blood; the winding, burning tread of medicinal pastes and plants; Draal, Draal, Draal.

Blinky looked up at his friend with some trepidation before knocking on the door. They had long learned not to just barge in, for fear of a sword to the face.

“Er, Master Alexandra? If you are well enough, we should like to discuss – “
Something large lumbered across the floor, and the door opened to reveal a filth-covered Draal, who smelled heavily of sewer, medicinal herbs, and goblin innards. AAARRRGGHH was incredibly happy to see him, especially with all limbs attached and healing well.

The younger troll smiled up at them with dark, tired eyes, and shook his head.

“If you have come for the Trollhunter she is not here. She left several hours ago for my father’s rooms, to consult his library.”

Blinky snapped his fingers and snorted, obviously annoyed that he had not thought of that possibility earlier.

“While we are here, so as to not have wasted the trip…”
He drew forth the gaggletack; Draal glanced at it in surprise, and then reached out and grabbed it firmly.

“There are no Changelings here, my friend,” he said, his grip and his voice both curiously tight. Blinky dropped his arm and nodded, relief relaxing his shoulders and back.

“Not among us, at least,” he murmured.

“Thank you, Draal,” Blinky said, somewhat hesitatingly. AAARRRGGHH reached over him and pat the younger troll on the shoulder, drawing a smile from his green-smeared face.
“It is good to see you too, old friend,” Draal said quietly. The door didn’t close until they had long made it down the dark hallway.

“Smelled like Alex,” AAARRRGGHH muttered. Blinky mumbled something under his breath, and AAARRRGGHH gently elbowed him in the shoulder, making him stumble slightly but drawing a half-smile.

“She’s going to have to do something with him,” he said. “He can’t be hidden away forever.”

“Big heart,” said AAARRRGGHH cheerfully. Blinky softly nudged his two left arms against his companion’s right.

“I do suppose so,” he said. AAARRRGGHH wasn’t as concerned with Alexandra’s constant lies and twisting words as Blinky was, because he watched her actions more than her mouth. Whatever convoluted history she spun for herself didn’t matter so much in the face of what he’d seen her do, in protecting Draal; in protecting him and Blinky; in the initial terror and growing confidence in which she walked through Heartstone.

They made their way to Kanjigar’s old quarters with little more conversation, and within arriving in the final corridor it was obvious to AAARRRGGHH that they had finally located their elusive Trollhunter.

There was a soft smell of blood, which really wasn’t a gentle scent itself, but AAARRRGGHH figured that Alexandra would probably smell of blood and healing magics for a good while.

He paused to examine the scents in the hall as Blinky kept going and knocked on Kanjigar’s door. There really was a lot of the blood smell.

“Master Alexandra! Master Alexandra, are you here?”

Blinky jiggled the handle and let himself in; a blur of orange shot out of the gap and skittered down the hallway, leaving tiny red pawprints behind it. AAARRRGGHH knuckled forward and stopped just short of the door. The smell of blood was intense.

“Oh dear Gorgus…”

Blinky rushed forward, AAARRRGGHH swift on his heels. He reached over his friend and gently lifted the Trollhunter off of the floor, blood-stained pages of the books around her peeling off of her arms. From her pocket the amulet pulsed dimly.

“Quickly, quickly, to Vendel…”

He was already squeezing through the doorway. The bleeding had stopped but blood still smeared on his arms for the second time in as many days. The few trolls walking about scrambled to the side as AAARRRGGHH uncomfortably jogged through, Blinky running ahead of him to warn Vendel.
Out of all the Trollhunters he’d known, he had never had one die in his grasp. Alexandra wasn’t gone, but the thought was scary. In such an uncertain time, with the Killahead being re-built, what would they do if she couldn’t survive? She couldn’t keep up like this. Out of all the times to train a brand new Trollhunter now was not it! What would happen to Draal? What would happen to Trollmarket?

Muttering stirred around them as they raced through the residential area and into the market, the crowd hastily parting before them.

“ – Move aside, move aside please, please – “

They crossed the bridge and entered the Heartstone just as a piece of stone flew through the air and nicked AAARRRGGHH’s ear. He adjusted Alexandra to one arm and shoved Blinky behind him, and the resulting scraping sound alerted Vendel to their presence.

“Be careful, you two, this is – oh! That blasted fool!”

Vendel put down the crystal he was grinding and shoved his tools off of his workbench for the second time, directing Blinky to get his medical things from the night before, which were still packed against the wall of the Heartstone.

“I told her not to strain herself, the idiotic woman,” Vendel muttered angrily, shooing AAARRRGGHH’s arms away as he quickly lifted off the sheet of leather she’d wrapped her torso in. The drying blood was tacky and made the edges of the leather stick to her skin.

Alexandra’s face twitched and her upper hands motioned violently.

“Stay still, Trollhunter.”
She gave a half-hearted hiss, and then shook her head.

“Doeddwn i ddim yn golygu…Byddaf yn gwneud yn well.”

Blinky and Vendel both looked surprised at the change in language, which AAARRRGGHH could only identify as Welsh.

“Rhaid ichi aros yn dal,” said Vendel. The words fell like the whisper of leaves and of small, tumbling stones from his mouth.

“Peidiwch â gadael iddyn nhw fynd â fi i ffwrdd…”

“ ‘Do not let them take me away,’ ” Blinky translated, soft and unsettling.

They waited for an hour outside of the Heartstone, leaning against its quiet warmth as if to lend their strength to it and to draw comfort in return.

“We should have predicted this,” Blinky murmured once, before falling silent again.

AAARRRGGHH had the thought that they weren’t supposed to be babysitting the Trollhunter. If she was stupid enough to walk around when she was so injured then that was her fault and hers alone. The thought annoyed him a little bit, because he remembered several incidents during the first decades of his defection, where he had refused to tell anybody when he was hurt and often pretended that he was fighting fit despite being ready to fall apart. It had been a habit, at first; weak Gumm-Gumms were dead Gumm-Gumms, after all. Those that fell behind were left behind, and so pushing himself past his limits of pain and exhaustion were necessary habits that were very, very hard to break.

But harder to break was the mindset that, once he had Vendel and Blinky and Kanjigar as his friends, he now had the option of accepting help. And asking for it had been nearly impossible.

With all of the sharp things around her heart and her propensity to push herself beyond what was necessary for her training, AAARRRGGHH had a pretty good idea of what exactly had made their Trollhunter do something so irresponsible.

When Vendel came out, he looked more irritated than mournful, which gave AAARRRGGHH hope.

“She will survive, again. You may see her if you wish, but I cannot guarantee that she will be up for a conversation.”

“She’s awake?”
“Somewhat awake,” Vendel replied, “but not particularly aware. She’s been babbling nonsense for an hour.”

They followed Vendel into the light of the Heartstone and found Alexandra weakly straining against a grid of yellow light, cast by an incomplete set of trapping stones.

Blinky tentatively leaned over her, waving a hand in front of her face.

“Master Alexandra?”
“f*ck you,” she murmured. She seemed perfectly lucid for a second, until her eyes focused away from Blinky and she snarled viciously.

She struggled again, her arms rising halfway off the stone table, and Vendel put another yellow stone down, adding another line of light and making it harder for her to move further. With clenched fists, straining muscles, and the hint of tears, it was clear that the Trollhunter, wherever her mind was, was exceedingly unhappy with being paralyzed. Vendel took the lessened movements as opportunity to apply a tiny chunck of Heartstone to the wound on her side, which made her relax slightly.

“Vaguonp’rrse…ya dick.”

AAARRRGGHH smiled slightly. Even delusional and immobilized and injured, Alexandra still found the energy to insult someone.

“While the Trollhunter heals, perhaps now would be a good time to tell me exactly what happened,” Vendel huffed. Blinky nodded and AAARRRGGHH backed away, settling down against a corner of the crystal around them.

Blinky described to Vendel everything that he had already told him, but with added details that he had neglected to relay the last time, including Draal, Alexandra’s use of the Leoht Stone, and his discomfort at her continued untruths about her own history.

AAARRRGGHH, already having heard the whole story, settled his back further against the walls of the glowing crystal, soaking up the steady beat that pulsed through it. He didn’t have the power or knowledge that Vendel did, to pick out which beat among the many belonged to Blinky or Draal or himself, but he could pretend that he could, and as Blinky’s steady voice washed over him he took comfort in that fact that his companion’s heartbeat was one of the legion that thrummed against his skin.

He dozed, but was woken abruptly by Blinky urgently nudging him with one hand. His friend’s desperate movements counteracted his voice, which was almost as calm as ever. AAARRRGGHH could hear a whining note of untruth in his stumbling goodbyes to Vendel, but before he could ask he was ushered out of the Heartstone and over the bridge, Blinky’s small hand pulling him through the market with a stony grip.

They bypassed the library and headed for Blinky’s own quarters, most probably because they actually had a door, which Blinky locked and leaned against when they were shut inside.

“Blinky upset?”

His friend’s nostrils flared angrily and he shivered, glaring at the wall before taking a breath to calm himself.

“If you recall, the only reason we abandoned the theory that our Trollhunter was a Changeling was because she proved us wrong with a gaggletack,” he said lowly. AAARRRGGHH nodded slowly, unsure where Blinky was going with this.

His friend turned all four eyes upon him, and even in the darkened room AAARRRGGHH could see his conflict.

“She faked it.”

Vendel took the unabridged explanation of the previous day’s events with as much stoicism as Blinky had expected, while AAARRRGGHH, who had already been told the whole of it, dozed peacefully against the Heartstone. Alexandra’s angry and occasionally confused mumblings gently echoed over the crystal walls.

“I admit,” Vendel said softly, turning away and resting a hand on the corner of the table, near the Trollhunter’s still-twitching foot. “I am glad to hear of Draal’s safe return, whatever the consequences may be.”

Blinky smiled, thinking of how glad Draal had been to see them. “I don’t doubt that he will prove himself worthy of Trollmarket’s regard once again.”
Vendel snorted. “He is suited for little else. I don’t recall a time when the young fool wasn’t trying to prove something.”

It was a fact that Blinky knew AAARRRGGHH had some contention about, coming from his less-than-complimentary opinion of Kanjigar’s parenting style.

He knew, without needing to confirm it with his mentor, that whatever happened with Draal, he would be protected by their Trollhunter. It was a nice change.

Vendel was also unsurprised at Alexandra’s use of the Leoht Stone, but was slightly concerned about her continued secrecy from her trainer.

“Whatever her secrets,” he said, “She is our Trollhunter, chosen by the amulet for good or for bad. I highly doubt that the amulet would champion someone destined to bring us to our doom. However, this secrecy must end. We are trusting her with our lives, and the lives of all of troll and human-kind. The Trollhunter must learn to trust us, as well.”
Blinky could only nod in agreement, holding a fervent rant on the subject behind his teeth. A glance at Alexandra showed that she had finally closed her eyes and settled down, done with arguing with whatever demon had plagued her.

He moved to wake AAARRRGGHH, having nearly talked himself out. Even after a day and a half of rest, mostly, he was still physically and emotionally exhausted, and even more than his library wished for the dark, warm peace of his bed.

His hand closed on AAARRRGGHH’s shoulder just as Vendel spoke again.

“And, by the way, Blinkous – what was the Trollhunter’s human form?”
Blinky froze in the spot. Human form? What in Deya’s name was Vendel talking about?

“Her, ah…human form?”
Vendel signed heavily, collecting his medical supplies and packing them back up.

“Yes, Blinkous, her human form. From what you’ve told me she used the Leoht Stone. If she was pushed into sunlight, she should have turned human temporarily; and since she is still alive and not sun-stained, I assume that is the case. Is it not?”

Blinky chuckled nervously, and one of his lower hands gestured frantically as he attempted to move AAARRRGGHH into wakefulness, which was rather like shoving at a mountain.

Wake up, wake up, wake up!

“Oh I, ah ha, I mean of course she did! I merely forgot in all of the confusion and worry. Yes, it was very interesting and surprising, er. She turned completely human. Temporarily!”

Vendel was looking less and less at ease with each word that Blinky said. He shook harder on AAARRRGGHH’s shoulder until the larger troll finally awoke.

“We will be back to consult as soon as the Trollhunter is up to it,” he said, as calmly as he could.

“Thanks,” AAARRRGGHH called to Vendel cheerily, before Blinky grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door.

She hadn’t turned human.

She hadn’t turned human.

Possibilities and theories raced through his head, each more outlandish than the last, before they were all banished. He pulled AAARRRGGHH through Trollmarket as his fervent thoughts landed on the only possibility to the anomaly, and to the further evidence that he had been manipulated to falsely dismiss before:

Alexandra had faked the gaggletack. Their Trollhunter was, truly, a Changeling. And this time, nobody could know.

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

What would the world be, once bereft of wet and wildness? Let them be left, O let them be left, wildness and wet, long live the weeds and the wildness yet.

• Gerard Manley Hopkins

Pain was both what woke her, and what kept her from waking.

The blue-black place she was floating in seemed familiar, but her mind was too blurred to recognize it. Some thing pained her greatly, and she began to panic. Irrationally, she thought of the witch-hunts in Germany and in England, where they took the unusual and the passionate and they killed them for their differences.

“I didn’t mean to,” she murmured, falling back on the preferred language of her childhood. “I’ll do better…”

“You have done nothing to incur such hatred,” an echoing voice answered, but she was too muddled to accept it.

“You must stay still,” said another voice, so quietly that she could not heed it.

“Do not let them take me away,” she pleaded. The witch-hunts scared her so badly. What if her village decided that she was too unruly? What if she was hanged for her fights with the boys? What if she slipped up, said something too strange, did something that upset the wrong person, and someone found a mole or a birthmark on her body and took her away, away, away…

“Nobody is going to take you away.”

“She’s insensible...”

“Useless…”
“Stranger…”

She struggled to rise, but found that she couldn’t get up. Her limbs were bound by invisible bonds, and fear flooded her mind in freezing waves. Had they caught her? Had she been stolen? She tried to move again and the bonds only tightened, and just when she was about ready to faint in fear agony pressed into her side, as if the Devil himself was trying to cut her in two.

She cried out and flinched as violently as she could, but her entire body was held in a tight grip. Helpless; vulnerable; utterly incapable of defending herself. They’d stab her with knives and claws and teeth, fill her lungs with water and twist her bones with magic and peel her skin away with fire until she couldn’t recognize herself, until she gave in, until she forgot…

…but she never forgot.

The pain was softly fading, and with it ebbed the choking fog in her mind. They may have fought because they wanted to live, to prove their worth, but she fought because she wanted to go home.

The edges of the Void slowly became recognizable, and she dimly considered the fact that it would, eventually, become her final home.

She breathed for several long moments, until she was certain that her voice wouldn’t shake. It did anyway.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to spend eternity with you assholes,” she murmured.

The ghostly presence of Kanjigar smirked down at her. She glared at him, and then violently started, jerking against her bonds so suddenly that she felt her limbs bruising.

“Am I f*cking dead!”
“You are alive,” said Kanjigar. “Currently.”
“Thank God,” Alexandra sighed, her heart drumming angrily. “’M not ready.”
“You certainly are not,” Kanjigar agreed. “You still have to kill Gunmar, after all, and re-integrate the Changelings into troll society.”

“Lemme end poverty and turn off the sun while I’m at it,” Alex said.

“Arrogance doesn’t suit you, Trollhunter. And you will be needing that sun,” Kanjigar said. With mist still clouding her mind, he sounded even more confusing than normal.

“What would happen to the armor if the sun went out,” she wondered absently. Kanjigar ignored her.

“Your foolishness nearly got you killed,” he said. Alex tried to wave him off, but was forced to roll her eyes instead.

“This is serious, Alexandra,” Kanjigar said tightly, startling her with the use of her name. “There is much to be done, and you will not be able to perform your duty until you are completely healed. Your decision to bleed to death instead of asking for help will cost you.”
“I couldn’t let Vendel see,” Alex said. “I heal too fast with troll medicine.”
Kanjigar only shook his head. “Trust begins with you, Trollhunter. You will never succeed at your duty if you do not learn to trust your mentors.”

“’Thought you’d like seeing me push people away,” Alex muttered cuttingly. “You were certainly good at it.”
Kanjigar’s nostrils flared, and Alex felt a tiny wave of triumph. She was too tired to take proper amusem*nt at his annoyance.

“Heard your son used to date a Changeling.”

Kanjigar just sighed. She saw him getting ready to change the subject.

“’Wonder if he has a type,” she mused. “He sure attached himself to me pretty quickly.”

“Trollhunter – “

Something poked at her injured side again and she winced.

“He’s not half bad, once you get through the arrogance and the daddy issues. We’re pretty comfortable already – it wouldn’t be that big of a push to up the physical side of our acquaintance – “

In hindsight, deliberately angering a powerful ghost while being immobilized wasn’t the best plan, but Alexandra was exhausted and slightly delirious with pain, so she could later excuse herself for not thinking straight. Something semi-solid passed through her chest with a cold, throbbing ache, and another slammed through her head with ice-like shards that instantly gave her a headache. Kanjigar’s glowing fist hovered a half-inch in front of her face before he once again composed himself.

“Rule number two,” Alex hisses, her eyes blurring. You did have a problem with that one.

“You have liberty to care for your son, now that you’re dead,” she whispered instead, clenching her teeth against her emerging migraine. “The problem is, you’re dead. You’ve missed your chance to be a decent father, and you don’t get to be an ass about it when I’m fixing your damage. You could thank me for saving his life, you know.”

Kanjigar turned away from her and floated off, his shoulders tense and his hands clenched into fists.

“Your deliberate misdirections cost you opportunity,” hissed one of the voices of the council.

“Arrogance.”

“Foolish Changeling!”

“If you are to succeed, you must wield the power of the sun.”

“What the hell does that mean, I already do,” Alex said, flexing her fingers as if to summon her sword. The blobs of blue light that swirled around the ceiling pulsed and twisted among each other.

“A troll cannot use sunlight…”

“What the f*ck are you talking about?”
Kanjigar spoke from just behind her head, startling her with his sudden presence.

“The amulet – “

“Jesus Christ, f*ck you!”

“ – Was originally created for a Changeling. How it reacts to you and how you may wield its powers will be different.”
“What do you mean? What different powers? You couldn’t have written this down in one of your extensive diaries?”
“You must discover for yourself how to use the amulet to your best advantage,” said Kanjigar, as calmly as if they had never tiffed. The agony in her side lessened a little bit more as she strained her invisible bonds again.

“You’re being vague on purpose, you dick.”

For a split second his eyes slid down to meet hers, and the tiniest, sh*ttiest little smile etched across his mouth.

“Being Trollhunter is a learning process,” he said. “We cannot simply give you the answers.”

Alexandra felt a stone drop into her stomach as she realized that pissing off the person who could best relate to and help her had actually been a horrible idea.

Getting under his skin for his treatment of her new friend was, however, very possibly worth it.

“Fine by me,” she said. “You assholes give sh*tty advice anyway.”
Kanjigar, the smug bastard, said nothing, apparently content in the knowledge that he had won this meeting. Alexandra decided that she was too exhausted to care.

“f*ck you for nothing, then. I’m going back.”

She stopped struggling against her invisible bonds and finally let her body relax, accepting the pain in her side as a part of her reality and ceasing her fight against the fear and uncertainty swirling in the back of her mind.

The blue glow of the existential-nightmare-room began to fade, and the weight and warmth of the living world slowly enveloped her body.

Kanjigar watched her settle down, and she in turn watched him fade away. He briefly turned his eyes to hers, and she saw the very edge of a smile before he and it disappeared.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and then the Void was gone.

Being stuck in bed was awful on a regular sick day, but adding a very unhappy Vendel to the situation, plus a painful injury, plus the fact that she wasn’t on a bed so much as a cold stone slab, just made everything so very wonderful.

Vendel wasn’t half bad company, honestly, when he wasn’t being a dick, but Alexandra had annoyed him and so got the brunt of his temper. He patched her up, tended to her wound daily, but for the most part she was forced to either sleep or listen to him ramble about the finer points of troll society and how exactly, with notes on the precise angles, to cut a gemstone. She learned a lot about patience in those first few days.

Vendel’s trapping stones kept her totally still and she had nothing better to do than wait until she was well enough to move. Personally she considered his precautions to be a bit excessive – surely being able to at least bounce her foot wouldn’t re-open her wound – but the old troll was extremely unsubtle about how much he enjoyed inconveniencing her, especially since it was her fault in the first place.

Blinky and AAARRRGGHH visited regularly, once Vendel had given them the clear-all to sit and drawl on for hours about history, lore, battle tactics, and plans for the Bridge situation. Alex actually enjoyed listening to Blinky’s lectures, but she wasn’t allowed to take notes, since Vendel insisted on keeping her completely paralyzed. Any time that she was allowed up was supervised, which Alexandra could admit was a bit of paranoid precaution that she had brought upon herself.

Draal even took it upon himself to risk the travel through the market, although he had AAARRRGGHH to escort him.

“You’re disgusting,” Alexandra noted, looking him over. He was still covered in goblin remains, which had more or less bonded to his skin and stuck unpleasantly between his spikes.

“This is as far as I have dared go,” he responded quietly. She knew that if the members of Trollmarket attacked him, he would not fight back or defend himself. AAARRRGGHH and Blinky couldn’t risk themselves by doing much more than walking him back and forth from the Heartstone to her, now his, room, and she wouldn’t ask them to. Until she either restored his honor or completely changed troll society, he was hers to protect, and without her by his side he would to be considered an open target for ridicule and violence.

He visited her on the third day, which was when Vendel finally allowed her to move her right hands when supervised. They lay outside of the trapping circle, and although the stones made them slow she still smacked Draal in the arm.

“You said you spoke to my father,” he murmured, apparently unable to feel the tiny blow. His eyes turned to hers and the straining hope in them was almost painful.

“…Did he…speak of, of me? At all?”
“We had a bit of a fight,” Alex said honestly. “We usually do. He hasn’t really talked about you yet. I think that he believes that if he doesn’t say anything about you, I won’t remember you exist. He certainly doesn’t like us being friends.”
“But you are his successor,” Draal replied, pointed eyebrows furrowing. “Surely he cannot disapprove of you, even if you are argumentative and obnoxious.”
“Thanks,” Alexandra grumbled. “He’s not happy about you being close with another Changeling.”
It was the first time that she had admitted such out loud, to an actual living person, and she was very quietly proud at doing it. Draal looked at his hands then, clenched between his knees and covered in gore and smears of dirt.

“But he was happy to see you back in Trollmarket.”
Draal remained silent, but she saw his back relax a bit. She wanted to tell him that she was sorry he had such a terrible father, but the idiot worshiped Kanjigar like a hero, and truly insulting the guy wouldn’t make Draal any happier nor would it make him acknowledge the dead troll’s faults.

“Ah, Master Alexandra! I am glad to see you awake.”

Alex and Draal turned their eyes to the entrance to the Heartstone, where Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were coming around the corner.

AAARRRGGHH dropped a small pile of books next to her one mobile hand and she picked up the first, holding it above her so that she could see it.

“I thought that we might go over properties of the Heartstones, once we discuss what is to be done about the Changeling problem.”
Blinky eyed her in a weird way then, as if expecting her to already have a solution.

“Well, I’m stuck here until Vendel decides to release me from captivity, so if you want to go up and find out yourself what they’re up to, you’re free to do so.”

She twitched the book away from AAARRRGGHH, who was sniffing it with interest. Blinky didn’t bat an eye.

“It could be done, of course,” he said, and from his pocket he pulled an odd-looking wooden mask.

“The means are not quite the issue, but the timing. You are incapacitated for the time being, and we either should wait or send someone else. Likely, me.”
“You look so enthusiastic.”
Blinky chuffed, turning the mask around in his hands. “Quite the contrary, I assure you. But I will endeavor to answer the call if and when I should receive it! Never let it be known that a Galadrigal turned away from a fight!”
“It does not have to be you, Blinky,” said Draal. He reached across Alex and Blinky handed him the mask. “I am currently of little use. Our Trollhunter cannot spar or practice, and I could not teach her anyway with my effective banishment painting a target across my back. I should be the one to go.”

Alex looked between the two, weakly waving her hand to try to get someone’s attention.

“I thought we were discussing this; not deciding already. Either way you would have to go at night, without protection, and you would have to get in and out by yourself and undetected. I think that we should wait.”

Blinky promptly ignored her, still speaking over her chest to Draal.

“But with night fallen, Bular will be active, which will be a terrible danger for whoever goes on top of the risks of Changelings and goblins.”
“Why don’t I just go?” asked Alex. “I’ve got the Leoht Stone, sunlight’s not going to do anything to me.”
Blinky stared at her with wide eyes, as if stunned by such a simple solution. He exchanged a brief look with AAARRRGGHH, and then cleared his throat.
“If that is what you suggest, Master Alexandra, then I see no fault in your reasoning.”

“Great. Now we just need to hope that Bular and his minions don’t cause any trouble for as long as it takes for Vendel to let me use my limbs.”
“Do not hold your breath, Trollhunter,” grumbled the troll in question, the thunk of his staff announcing his arrival. “Your situation will continue to be as it currently is, until I am satisfied of your ability to keep yourself out of trouble.”

He slowly trudged past the four of them, shaking his head in a way that Alex supposed was supposed to make her feel guilty.

“For a Trollhunter, at least.”

“Glad to see your confidence in me,” Alex called after him. She clenched her fist, and the one hand she could move was then covered in its metal gauntlet. Vendel had tried to keep the amulet from her for the first few minutes after she’d awoken, until he realized that she was adept at summoning it, even when he put it in an anti-magic box. Unfortunately, she couldn’t summon her armor on the bits of her that were still immobilized by Vendel’s trapping stones, so when she’d summoned the amulet it just kind of sadly bounced off of the lines of light encasing her, settling down as close to her shoulder as it could get. She had the distinct feeling that it could get through the lines if it really tried, but occasionally it decided to actually follow the rules. As much as she wanted to and did occasionally throw it across the room, she had become rather fond of the stupid glowing thing, and not just because it was a literal part of her.

Her mind was still a tiny bit scattered from her painful ordeal and her trip to the Void and all the weird dreams that Kanjigar had been sending her. She wondered if she could make the amulet a literal part of her.

That would be handy.

“What if I ate it,” she mused out loud.

“Ate what?”
Alex opened her eyes, not having realized that she’d closed them. Lying around and doing nothing was exhausting.

“The amulet,” she murmured, deciding to just give it up and settle back down, closing her eyes to the three confused trolls staring at her.

“It would be so much more useful if the amulet wasn’t so much a material thing as a part of me. I could summon it and dismiss it just like the armor.”
“Mm. Interesting, but unlikely. The amulet channels your wishes and emotions through it to give you the power to summon your armor. Taking the amulet out of the equation and skipping the middle-man, as the humans say, would indeed be useful to you, but not to your successor, or theirs. The amulet belongs to you and you alone – for now. But it also holds onto the Trollhunters who came before you.”

Alex grimaced.

“Yeah, no thank you. I do not want a part of Kanjigar resting inside of me. Forget the whole idea.”
“You are tiring yourself out, Trolhunter,” said Vendel off to the side. She heard Draal shift to make way for him. Something warm pressed against the patch he’d placed on her side, and a tension she hadn’t noticed eased off.

“You strain your bonds when you speak. Desist, or I will add another stone and make you desist.”
Alexandra didn’t dignify that with an answer, knowing that he would make good of his threat. Talking really wasn’t something that was supposed to happen when one was stuck inside of trapping stones, and he’d only lifted enough off so that she could speak to Draal. But her jaw and her neck muscles were aching from the effort.

She hadn’t felt this useless and weak since her detox year in the ‘70’s, where all she could do for a month was tremor, throw up, and wallow in panic attacks and heart palpitations. At least she could move then.

“Perhaps I should check the tunnels,” Draal was saying, his voice a distant whisper. “It is almost day on the surface.”
“You cannot forget the goblins,” Blinky replied softly.

Their voices turned into blurred murmurs, and Alex didn’t feel it when she fell asleep.

The noise woke her this time, since the Heartstone was most often very quiet. Something in the main market was making a humongous racket, with a lot of clanging and shouting.

From the feel of the bonds around her she knew that she was under the full force of every trapping stone Vendel possessed, which meant that her visitors/chaperones had left.

There was an odd smell, a burning smell, and she opened her eyes.

The acid-green glare of Stricklander’s triumphant face gazed back.

And Alexandra could.

Not.

Move.

“And look what we have here,” he sneered, leering over her like a particularly ugly bat. Another Changeling peered around him, looking exceedingly amused.

“A prisoner?”

“Not one of ours,” Stricklander said, looking over Alexandra’s prone form. “I…oh, but what’s this?”
He reached a knife through the glowing bars and pried the amulet out of her pocket, where it had been pulsing in time with her frantic heartbeat. The glow of it alighted upon his face and he grinned, clenching it in his fist as he laughed in Alexandra’s face.

“Apparently she is. I’ve been looking forward to meeting our Changeling Trollhunter.”
Someone get the f*ck in here, Alex thought desperately, trying to make a noise, a movement, anything. The trapping stones prevented her from even summoning her armor.

“Wunderbar,” hissed the other Changeling. “Do you recognize her?”
Stricklander’s eyes roamed disinterestedly over her face and body.

“No,” he said, to her eternal relief. “But there is some familiarity. Unfortunately, a few have fallen by the wayside in the past few centuries. I would not be surprised if she were one of those who have not checked in in quite a while.”
About forty years or so, give or take three hundred. Alexandra had been very careful to cover her human family’s tracks, doubling back to burn records when they first moved, and over the centuries had taken care to either leave no paper trail or destroy any that had been created. Technology and better censuses made things more difficult, but she knew how to establish and destroy an identity. The Janus Order hadn’t known of her location or seen her face since the mid-seventeen-hundreds, when she had last been dragged to a meeting.

“Should we take her back to Bular?”
“No,” Stricklander replied as he fingered his capelet of knives. “She is immobile and stranded here, in the most perfect of opportunities. Bular doesn’t care who kills the Trollhunters, as long as they are dead. We have the amulet in any case.”
Alexandra had never felt such fear and helplessness in her life. Vendel’s trapping stones, once merely aggravating and annoying, now would be the absolute death of her. She silently screamed and screamed for somebody to come, for somehow this to be a dream, for her bonds to magically break, but nothing came. Black started to blur the edges of her vision and white-hot pains pierced her chest, even though she couldn’t even hyperventilate. Her hands and toes were filled with needles and she was praying, pleading to a God that she still believed in that something happen, something happen, something happen –

A reddish-gold blur shot suddenly through the air, hitting Stricklander squarely in the back; he went down with an outraged cry as Vendel launched himself into the room, picking up the staff he had thrown and grabbing the arm of the other Changeling in one long, fluid movement. The Changeling was swiftly thrown through the air, where he struck the edge of Alexandra’s table and tumbled to the floor, his flailing arms knocking several of the trapping stones awry.

Alexandra hastened to stand under the moggy influence of the remaining stones, her limbs straining as if she were swimming through mud. Slowly, laboriously, she pushed the rest of the glowing stones out of alignment and unceremoniously tumbled onto the floor. Her still-healing nose broke motherf*cking AGAIN as she landed face-down, but she summoned her amulet straight out of the green asshole’s pocket and donned her armor.

Above her, Stricklander snarled and attacked Vendel, only to have his bony hand caught in a fist larger than his entire head. When he tried to pull back, Vendel squeezed. He was forced to release the broken hand when Stricklander sent a badly-aimed volley of knives into his shoulder, but he gained ground again when the Changeling yelped and stumbled, a bloody streak from Alexandra’s sword running across his exposed calf.

He muttered an oath and booked it, leaving his fallen companion to yell at him in indignation. Vendel dodged around the slab, reaching down to help Alexandra to sit.

“The Changelings have attacked the main market,” he said in a rush, grabbing her by her chest-plate and hauling her up until her back was against the table. “Half of Heartstone is overrun. You must – “
“You need to get back out there,” Alex interrupted, clumsily smacking his hands away. “Stop worrying about me, I’m damn useless! Get back out there and help them!”

Vendel promptly dropped her and hurried back out, moving surprisingly fast for such an old troll. Alexandra struggled to get up, and fell over again. She couldn’t catch her breath, and her vision swam with tears and dizziness. Her panic attack wasn’t helped by her infirmary. After five days of constantly straining against the trapping stones her muscles were coiled and sore, and without the pressure of her bonds her entire body felt weightless and off-balanced. Her hips especially were paining her, and the healing wound in her side throbbed and pulled angrily.

She reached up and gripped the edge of the table behind her, pulling until she was strewn backward over the surface. Her armor loudly scraped against the stone and she finally heaved herself upright, only to fall over again when the other Changeling knocked her back into the table, fleeing for the exit. There was a clang, and a yelp, and a Changeling in human form appeared around the corner, dodging both his troll attacker and his scarpering comrade.

He spotted her and snarled, twirling a pair of stone sabers through towards her. Boldened by her weakened state, he attacked, and the only reason Alexandra was able to keep her head was because she wasn’t able to keep her balance. Her hands fumbled on the table and down she went, a saber slicing the air above her head. She managed to twist her landing so that she slammed into his legs, making him cry out as her armor banged into his bony shins. His eyes glowed with yellow fire as he threw her off, and something in their light threw a sudden memory into her head.

“A troll cannot use sunlight.”

Kanjigar and the ghostly council had been haunting her dreams every time she slept, telling her the same damn things over and over until she wanted to destroy the sun just to shut them up.

“A troll cannot use sunlight.”

What the f*ck had they meant!?

“A troll cannot use sunlight.”

(but a Changeling

could)

A TROLL CANNOT USE SUNLIGHT.

Without a single thought Alexandra shifted and threw out her arms; instead of the Daylight sword materializing, bright light spewed from her gloves, coating her arms in the glow up to the elbows. The beams were both solid and fluid, and she raised all four arms and slammed them down on the Changeling’s shoulders. He did not turn to stone, but his skin sizzled and burned at an alarming rate, and within a few seconds he was still on the ground, dead and blackened with horrific burns.

Alexandra yelped in pain and frantically scraped at her arms, which were steaming. Urgently she banished the gloves and bracers and found her stone skin mottled and alarmingly reddened, tiny cracks glowing as if there was magma under her skin, which it certainly felt like. She threw back her head and screamed in agony.

“ShhhiiiiiIIIIT! AAHH!”

If she could move she could get some f*cking water! The pain in her arms was all-consuming and she felt it crawling, destroying her hands and forearms, her heart pounding nauseatingly in her chest and throat as she strained against her sluggish body.

“Can someone get me some f*cking water!”

With all the commotion outside her call was unanswered, as she’d expected it to be. The fire slowly, slowly began to cool on its own, but it took its f*cking time.

Trolls didn’t sweat, but Alex dearly wished she could, just to get some of the horrible heat out of her body.

She looked over to her side, where the figure of a bright red troll wavered through her dizzy eyes; the Changeling’s attacker, who had driven him into the Heartstone in the first place.

“And what do you want?!”

The troll shrugged and turned away.
“Whatever.”

Damn him, he’d seen the whole thing.

“sh*t,” Alex growled. “Alright, get back here and help me up.”

The red troll put down his bloodied mace and pushed her up from behind, until she could cling to the wall of the Heartstone for balance. Her hands left bloody smears on the crystal, which soaked them up with a golden glow.

“How many are out there? Is it only Changelings?”

He shook his head and then answered in Trollish, “Goblins too, and an anstramonstrum.”
f*ck.

She had no idea what to do against an anstramonstrum, having never encountered one before. Goblins were easy enough to dispatch but what the hell does one do about a growing carnivorous mist?

“Get me outside,” she growled.

They limped and stumbled outside of the Heartstone, where chaos reigned across the chasm. The market was in an uproar of rampaging goblins, attacking Changelings in troll and human forms, and, on the far side of the market, the raging, thundering mass that was the anstramostrum.

Alexandra slid her arm off her escort’s shoulder.

“Go get those trapping stones,” she said to him. “They’re around Vendel’s table back inside. Some will be on the floor. Bring them back here.”
“Fine,” he grumbled. Alexandra ignored him and summoned her sword, which she fumbled and dropped. A pile of goblins came charging at her that moment and she wondered if she should just let them eat her, and then she summoned her sword again and cut the pile to pieces. Her hand and arm felt like they were being flayed; blood turned the handle of her blade slick and she needed to hold it with two hands.

As long as nothing came and made her move her legs, she was fine.

A scream drew her attention when a whelp and his parent scrambled out from behind a pile of old televisions, a Changeling with a heavy club stalking after them.

Alexandra stumbled forward and fell into him, unable to bring her arms up enough to stab. The Changeling was caught off guard and Alex bit deep into his shoulder, making him scream out. He tried to club her, but the weapon was not meant for such close combat and Alexandra was able to wrench it away from him. He swiped his claws over her face, forcing her to rear back to avoid losing another eye. The pain actually distracted her from the burns on her arms and she retaliated, kneeing him in the groin and making sure that every elbow landed in his gut as they fell to the ground.

It was graceless, and inelegant, but when the fight was over she shooed the child and parent away, her sword and a shaft of wood from a broken stall holding her on her feet.

Trollmarket actually seemed to be doing a fairly good job of defending itself, considering that its denizens were not primarily warriors, but when a blue blur passed Alex and barreled through a hoard of charging goblins, she understood.

Draal was covered in gore and debris but he looked like he was having the time of his life. With a thundering roar he threw himself into battle with two Changelings at once, defeating one and smacking away the other with her limp body.

He dropped his impromptu weapon and his eyes landed on Alex.

“Trollhunter! You are injured – “
“ – I’m good,” she interrupted. “How many are left?”
“Not many at all,” he replied with a grin. He rolled his shoulders and balled his hands into fists. “I’ve taken out the majority, but there is an anstramonstrum, and – “
He paused for a second to slam his fist into a Changeling’s face. Alexandra sliced her ex-fellow’s torso and smacked him away with her staff. They tossed the body away and jumped aside themselves as a pair of trolls ran past them.

“ – And we still do not know how they even got in.”
“I’ll handle that,” Alex said. “And I’m going to try trapping the anstramonstrum. Where are Blinky and AAARRRGGHH?”
Draal pointed. Near the bridge entrance Blinky was in the middle of the fray, throwing large stones and smacking with a spear every Changeling and goblin that was surrounding AAARRRGGHH, who was deliberately making a target of himself.

They’re fine for now.

“I’ve got the crystals.”

Alexandra jumped, not having noticed her Whatever-Troll’s return. He looked exceedingly put-upon, but held out a bag that glowed from within.

“The trapping stones?”
Taking the bag and nodding, Alexandra slung her arm over Draal’s pointy shoulder and directed him to the gyre side of Trollmarket, where the anstramonstrum was wheedling through the stalls, a dozen trolls running for their lives away from its mass.

“It’s an alive thing,” Alex said, as Draal stood and just outright carried her across the floor. “It’s not dissipating into the air, so it’s semi-solid. But I can’t slice it, burn it, or…well…I guess I could try to burn it.”
Her raw arms were chaffing against Draal’s skin and she wanted to faint.

I really don’t want to try.

“Either way, I don’t know how to kill it, so we’re going to have to trap it until we can find out how to.”

“And you are sure that this will work?”
Draal put her down and she started laying the stones out.

“No, I don’t,” Alexandra admitted. “It’s the best I got right now.”
Draal took the bag from her and put down the remaining stones, spreading them into an enormous circle that touched the walls of the market.

They waited.

And then the stupid cloud went down the wrong hallway.

Draal cursed in Trollish and sped away, ignoring Alexandra when she called out for him.

“Draal! We’ll just set up the stones somewhere else! Draal! What the hell are you going to do?!”
“Make it angry,” he called back.

Their antics were drawing the attention of a distant crowd, and through it pushed AAARRRGGHH, Blinky clinging to his side as they ran across the emptied passage.

“Master Alexandra! What can we do?”
“I can’t f*cking MOVE! Take these stones and get them down that other hallway! DRAAL!”

Blinky shooed AAARRRGGHH in front of him and the larger troll sped up, skidding to a halt outside of the trapping circle. His hand hovered over a crystal just as they heard a voice cry out.

“Wait!”

Silence reigned for a half moment that lasted an eternity, and then Draal appeared, turning down a far corner.

“Get away!”
Directly behind him, the anstramonstrum consumed everything in its path, shattering crystals and swallowing stalls. It ignored other trolls still scattered in the market, focused on the blue troll and him alone. Draal curled into a roll and careened down the corridor, stopping directly in front of the crystal circle.

“Wait for it,” he murmured. The anstramonstrum continued on its destructive path, intent on devouring he who had royally pissed it off.

Draal walked calmly around the circle, until it stood between him and the deadly cloud.

It got closer and closer, aiming directly for him, and then just before it entered the circle it cut a sharp right and f*cking went around it.

AAARRRGGHH picked Blinky and Alex and dodged to the side, nearly slamming her into a stumbling Draal. The deadly cloud’s momentum shot it down the path, but it quickly turned itself around, cracking with purple lightning as it missed its target.

They sprinted around to the opposite side of the stone, and then Draal, the eternal, noble fool, stepped into the trapping circle.

He spread his arms and was immediately paralyzed. The stones emitted their glowing bars, imprisoning him.

Alexanda wriggled out of AAARRRGGHH’s grip and stumbled forward with a cry.

The anstramonstrum flowed into the enormous circle of stones, swallowing Draal whole before it was stopped as well.

Alex’s stagger turned into a desperate sprint, and she flung herself through the bars of light. Half of her body was immersed in the black cloud, stinging her skin with a hundred thousand glowing knives before she connected with something solid and sent it tumbling to the ground. A huge hand grabbed her by the back of her belt and dragged her and Draal out of the trapping circle, lifting them carefully over the yellow stones.

Draal was alive but unconscious. His tattoos glowed with pinpricks of purple light, cracks of which spread over his skin. His breathing was short and shallow, but he was alive.

“Thank God, you idiot,” Alex murmured, sitting back with relief.

Blinky finally caught up to them and pulled Alexandra away so that Vendel could reach Draal. There was still the distant sound of fighting, but she couldn’t continue. Pain and exhaustion finally overwhelmed her, and she fell backwards into AAARRRGGHH’s waiting hand.

Understandably, Blinky was having a completely, utterly horrible day.

He had not been put out at first at their Trollhunter falling asleep before he could start their lessons, given that sleeping was one of the many things that he wanted her to do that she just didn’t do. Her sleeping meant that she wasn’t going to be thinking about how terribly awkward Blinky was sure he had been during their talk. It had been the first time that Changelings had been brought up and he just knew that he’d almost given himself away.

He and AAARRRGGHH had been getting something to eat when several members of the crowd, in every part of Trollmarket, had suddenly starting attacking people. Goblins emerged from every corner and began destroying everything in sight, and several innocent trolls fell before anybody realized what exactly was going on.

There had to be dozens of Changelings, all armed to the teeth and accompanied by half a dozen goblins each. AAARRRGGHH had to keep Blinky from getting killed before it dawned on them that they were primary targets.

Blinky himself had actually been dragged away from the fray by two Changelings, separating him from his protector, before Draal had joined the fray with roars and thundering fists.

It was he that drove away the majority of combatants, tossing goblins through the air and downing the attacking Changelings with a fervor and competence that reflected who exactly Draal was the son of. Many trolls were able to get to safety as he drew the majority of the fight to himself.

Blinky had wondered where Alexandra was before remembering that she was in the Heartstone, trapped and utterly at the mercy of any Changelings who decided to attack there. Frantically he had called to Vendel, who was fighting nearby, to remind him of their incapacitated Trollhunter.

He himself fought with fist, stone, and a fallen spear, but it was quickly becoming evident that he was more of a liability than an asset. AAARRRGGHH had noticed it, too, and he deliberately made a larger target of himself, leaving open chances for kill-strikes with every move he made and pretending to be slow and uncoordinated. The Changelings and goblins surrounded him, only to be picked off by Blinky, who darted between stalls and rocky outcrops to strike and then hide away again.

Fighting was not his forte under any sort of circ*mstances, but coupled with AAARRRGGHH’s presence and the need to keep him unharmed he was more than willing to battle tooth and nail to the best of his ability, however small his ability actually was.

It was a pity when, just as they were feeling victorious, an anstramonstrum made itself known on the opposite end of Trollmarket.

On the other side of the chasm surround the Heartstone, Alexandra herself was limping around with Draal’s help. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH, done with their fights, dodged around debris and fallen bodies to try and reach them. A crowd was forming at a safe distance from the deadly black cloud and they urgently pushed through.

Alexandra it seemed was trying to trap the monster. Blinky urged AAARRRGGHH ahead of him to help her, unable to keep up on his damned short legs.

He stumbled and fell when Draal deliberately stepped into the trapping circle, and the anstramonstrum swallowed him whole.

Alexandra herself saved Draal from being killed, and Blinky finally made it to them as AAARRRGGHH pulled them out of the trap.

Both were alive but grievously harmed, and Blinky was – quite understandably – having a very. Bad. Day.

Alexandra was finally allowed to move about when it was made clear that nobody could actually stop her, given that the trapping stones were currently in use. There was much to do in the aftermath of the fight, and she threw herself into it with an agitated fervor. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH kept close by her in the event that she finally realized that she was wounded and worn out, but it was clear that she was done with sitting around.

The wounds on her arms worried Blinky greatly but he was only allowed to wrap them up, and the same for the wound on her side. She healed remarkably fast, but it was very clear that she was in constant pain, and Blinky had the feeling that if she finally allowed herself to stop that she would not be able to get back up.

Many lives had been lost during the attack, but the majority of them belonged to their attackers. Alexandra and Vendel presided over the funeral rites of all the Heartstone trolls who had fallen, but in a curious display of mercy the Trollhunter also insisted on interment of the Changelings who had been killed.

Blinky and AAARRRGGHH, of course, knew the real reason why, but when Alexandra was questioned on her choice she merely said that it was her duty as Trollhunter to take care of the troll and human worlds, and that included those that fell in between.

It wasn’t easy – Changelings didn’t die like trolls did. Those that didn’t explode fell as humans, as flesh-and-bone bodies instead of as stone. The Trollhunter bid them to be collected and set aside for her to take upstairs and deal with later, easing the minds of those concerned that their attackers would be entombed beside their dead friends.

Everyone uninjured helped clean up the mess, which included repairing stalls, clearing away rock and broken crystals, setting up further defenses on Trollmarket’s entrances, and replenishing supplies and goods that had been destroyed.

Alexandra actually did more for her reputation as Trollhunter in the first days after the attack than she had for every fight with Bular, as she tirelessly worked to repair what had been broken, whether that included property or the hearts of those who survived the attack. Blinky had never observed softness and warmth from their Trollhunter before, but as his fellows mourned and lamented she turned into an unexpected pillar of strength and comfort the like of which Blinky had not witnessed since Deya herself. Kanjigar had been strong, yes, and his community drew from that strength, but although he had been exceedingly kind he had never allowed himself to be emotionally available to those he protected.

Alexandra, with her heart wrapped in lies and sharp knives, listened to every grieving troll’s sorrows, every complaint, every worry. As opposed to Kanjigar, who lent his strength to others, Alexandra seemed to draw from those around her. With every troll she talked to she stood a little taller, walked a little steadier, moved a little faster. Blinky knew that she was close to collapse no matter how useful she was making herself, but until she actually did buckle under the pressure that she put herself under, she was actually doing very well.

Draal, on the other hand.

Was an idiot, as both Vendel and Alexandra took pleasure in reminding him daily. Following the end of the battle he had been moved to the examination dwell, where he remained until he could stand without falling over.

Nobody was exactly sure what happened to those killed by anstramonstrum. The working theory was that the mist actually dissolved and ate them, since there were never any bodies. Draal had only been encased in the mass for a few seconds, but those few seconds had eaten away at him. The entirety of his exposed skin was pitted and marked like acid rain on limestone, the lines and pockets glowing with a sickly purple. Alexandra, who had partially passed through the mist, also sported the effects of the smoke on her face and upper body. Draal, however, had breathed it in, and so was unable to do much of anything until Vendel healed his lungs.

His spirits were up however great his injuries, and he once again had a crowd of admirers and fans who had to be pushed out of the examination dwell almost hourly. There were rumors of changing his title, too. Draal had willingly put his life in danger to capture the anstramonstrum, on top of his efforts in the battles around Trollmarket, and he was now hailed as a hero. His place in Heartstone was once again assured, and every troll who saw him welcomed him.

Once everything was mostly organized and the rebuilding was well on the way, there really were only two problems: how the Changelings had gotten in, and what to do about the anstramonstrum.

The anstramonstrum inside of its glowing trap was given a wide berth by the trolls of Heartstone. Unlike most things caught inside trapping stones, it was not motionless. The bars kept it from attacking anyone but it filled its prison from floor to ceiling, a great, evil mass swirling inside of golden light, a menacing column of black smoke and purple lightning. From Blinky’s extensive research on the subject they knew that it could only be returned to the crystal from whence it had come, which was utterly useless to them since they had no idea where it was.

The second problem was in the captured Changelings.

Alexandra had ordered them imprisoned, to be questioned by her later, but it was several days before she got the chance. Both Blinky and AAARRRGGHH accompanied her, despite her protests. She threatened and snarled at them, but both of them were in perfect health in comparison to her, and until she could lift her sword without shaking there really wasn’t much she could do if they decided to ignore her orders. So, with great consternation on the part of their Trollhunter, the three of them made their way down to the dungeons.

Eleven Changelings had been captured in varying states of health. Every one of them instantly focused on Alexandra as they entered the dungeon.

She dismissed the guards.

“Ah, our illustrious sister,” drawled a skinny, lime-green Changeling. “Risen to the highest of offices. How very honored we are to be in your presence.”

“They don’t know about the Leoht Stone,” Alexandra whispered, just loudly enough for Blinky and AAARRRGGHH to hear. “We could use this to our advantage.”

Blinky was exceedingly uncomfortable with watching her interact with those whom he assumed she had once been fellows. Unaware of his discomfort, she approached the green Changeling.

“How did you get into Trollmarket?”
“If this is your attempt at interrogation, I might laugh,” he replied, sneering down at her from his cage. Alexandra merely stared at him.

“I’m going to give you the chance to break from Gunmar. All of you.”

Blinky started forward but AAARRRGGHH grabbed his arm.

“Listen first,” his companion murmured, as the prisoners above them screamed in outrage.
“Don’t insult us!”

“You are nothing more than pawns and tools to him,” the Hunter continued, “to be thrown out when no longer of use. If you switch sides, you’ll be – “
“Get f*cked, traitor,” yelled another Changeling.

“Gunmar is trollkind’s salvation!”
“That is what he tells you. But you all are not trolls. You are worthless to him.”

There were various jeers and yells, but Blinky noticed that the green Changeling was silently watching her. She in turn focused on him.

“And why would you pretend to care,” he demanded, playing with the edge of his cloak. “What is in this for you?”
“Someone has to,” Alexandra said, quietly and contemplatively. “What I get is not having to kill all of you.”
“You wouldn’t dare, Trollhunter. Their kind believes in honor and dignity. There is none in killing a helpless prisoner, is there?”
Alexandra walked away from him and over to the wall where the chains holding the cages in the air were secured. She lowered several of them to the ground, including the green one’s.

AAARRRGGHH and Blinky watched with trepidation as she approached a stocky blue Changeling.

“I’d like to offer you a chance to live in peace,” she said to him. He snarled through the bars.

“Gunmar rewards his faithful,” he said. “Traitors are – “
Blinky jumped back in shock when Alexandra summoned her sword and ran him through. The air shimmered around her as if heated suddenly. The Changeling’s fatal wound crackled and glowed, and he imploded with a rush of air and a shock of blood.
The jeerings and growls that had echoed in the chamber abruptly silenced.

“There’s really no honor in stupidity,” Alexandra said, banishing her sword. “Trollmarket would have had you put to death immediately for your actions. I’m trying to give you a choice. Those faithful to Gunmar are going to die. Those who change sides, permanently, will live. It’s really not that difficult.”

“There are more of us, you know,” said the green one, eyeing her with more fear than he had before.

“You are a practical lot,” said the Trollhunter. She walked to another cage, slowly and steadily. Blinky hadn’t seen her like this before, but he noticed how the Changelings were tensing. She wasn’t raising her voice, or moving quickly at all, which somehow made it all worse.

“Surely one of you knows the value of self-preservation over twisted loyalty.”
The purple Changeling that she spoke to tried to lash at her through the cage. Alexandra grabbed her arms and the Changeling screamed; Blinky watched in horror as her skin blistered under the Trollhunter’s glowing gauntlets.

Alexandra released the screaming woman and crouched by her stricken form.

“Defect,” she said calmly. “Please.”

The Changeling looked at her with stricken eyes, but as the others called out curses and proclamations of loyalty she snarled and shook her head.

To Blinky’s surprise, she was allowed to keep it, after Alexandra watched the woman for a very long moment. Her neighbor, however – who loudly extolled Gunmar’s propaganda in the Trollhunter’s ear - was not so lucky.

Blinky was immensely regretting his insistence on accompanying Alexandra, or at least his bringing of AAARRRGGHH. The huge troll had turned away minutes ago, hiding his eyes from the gruesome, quiet slaughter. Blinky rubbed his arms as comfortingly as he could and huddled against his friend’s side, readying himself to close his eyes. He’d seen Alexandra scream and rage, charge at Draal and Bular alike with passion and determination, but never had he seen her quietly walk over and kill someone, no more bothered than if she were browsing at a lunch stall. It promptly reminded him of exactly how little he knew of her past, and of her true nature.

“I really only need one of you to talk,” Alexandra continued, this time not banishing her sword.

“Please stop,” hissed the green one, to Blinky’s surprise. “Just stop, we can talk.”

Alexandra walked back to his cage and put her hands behind her back, where the odd glow of them slowly dimmed. Blinky saw her fists shiver in pain.

“That’s all I wanted,” she said.

They conversed quietly for quite a time, while the Changelings around them watched in silence, the drip dripping of blood pattering in puddles on the floor.

AAARRRGGHH was still shivering under Blinky’s hands. While violence and bloodshed were almost every day features in troll society, it was usually something celebrated, whether in spars, challenges, or battle. But this…the Changelings would have been put to death anyway, but it wouldn’t have been like this, quietly and calmly and stinking of manipulation and indifference.

They eventually seemed to come to some sort of agreement, and the green Changeling dug into his capelet of knives and handed her something yellow and glowing: a horngazel.

Blinky stiffened as Alexandra walked toward him, but she passed him and knocked on the door, drawing the guards.

“Release the Changelings,” she told them, “and escort them out of Trollmarket.”

AAARRRGGHH jerked violently and Blinky stumbled, both of them staring at Alexandra in shock.

“What? Master Alexandra, you can’t just – “
“They’re not to be harmed or assaulted on their way out,” she continued, ignoring Blinky’s spluttering. The guards did as she said, and began unlocking the Changeling’s prisons. The green one emerged from his cage with something like triumph.

“You’re letting them leave?!”
“Not for free,” muttered the green Changeling. Alexandra shoved him roughly.

“Cooperation is a small price to pay for your life, jackass,” she replied. “Alright, you idiots. Get out of my Heartstone.”

The guards surrounded the motley group and began marching them out of the chamber. Blinky heard gasps and yelps of surprise from the trolls outside as they emerged. He and AAARRRGGHH ran to Alexandra’s side as she brought up the rear.

“Master Alexandra, this needs to be a community decision! You at least need to consult with Vendel – “
“I already talked to Vendel,” the Trollhunter said. Blinky noticed that she was rubbing her bandaged arms. “He left the decision up to me.”
“But letting them go? This is madness!”
“This is politics,” Alexandra murmured.

“I hardly believe that I have to explain such folly to you! Surely they will betray whatever agreement you have come to and just attack once more. What did you even say to him? What did you bargain?”

“It really wasn’t that difficult. They gave up the anstramonstrum’s home crystal and the horngazel that their goblin had stolen, in exchange for their lives.”
“You are letting them leave, whatever they have given you! Sparing their lives will only ensure that they are at liberty to attack us again!”
“The f*cking carnivorous mist and their key to Trollmarket were the main concerns here, Blinky!”

Alexandra stopped and turned to him, her eyes wide with desperation and righteous anger.

“Their numbers were severely decimated today and they’ve seen that Trollmarket is not an easy target. Their goals were not achieved and their attack failed. Should they attack again, then we’ll deal with that when it comes. And we will set up defenses and further security later, but right now, I’d like to stop them from getting in again and get rid of that murderous column of smoke before it breaks out and kills someone else!”

Blinky shook two fingers in her snarling face.

“You asked for his cooperation!”
“And I got it, for as long it takes for them to get out of Trollmarket quietly. And I’ve given them all something to really think about. Neither Bular nor Gunmar would ever have been this merciful.”

“Master Alexandra, you cannot possibly expect that they will honor their agreement and become your spies, your allies!”
“Of course I don’t,” she hissed back at him. “I’m not stupid enough to believe that they’d change sides just because they promised to! I asked them for their stolen horngazel and the anstramonstrum’s home crystal, solid things, not promises!”

Blinky and Alexandra stared at each other in consternation for several heated moments, before one of AAARRRGGHH’s immense hands swam in front of their faces.

“Fight later,” he said quietly. “Changelings leaving.”
With a sigh, Alexandra turned away and starting following after the guards.

“I have to escort them,” she murmured. Blinky watched her for a few seconds, and then he and AAARRRGGHH followed.

The trolls of the market were not happy to see their attackers leaving alive, but the guards’ and Alexandra’s presence kept them from throwing anything more damaging than a shoe or two. They were taken up the crystal staircase and Alexandra had the guards search them before they were allowed to leave. Nothing came up, except one Changeling who had pocketed several trinkets of Trollhunter fan memorabilia.

The portal to the canal closed just as the green Changeling looked back at them. His eye caught the Hunter’s. Neither of them nodded, but neither snarled as well.

The blue glow faded from the walls and Alexandra dismissed the guards. Alone, with nothing to do and nobody to help, she looked discouragingly worn, with bandages over her abdomen, hands, arms, and her hair and body covered in bits of gore and wood and stone dust. The Trollhunter wavered for a moment, and then began down the crystal stairs.

“I need to go check on Draal,” she said quietly. Her feet stumbled on a crystal, and AAARRRGGHH caught her. Her arms were shaking too badly for her to lower herself down the higher jumps.

Although he didn’t feel satisfied with their discussion, Blinky welcomed the lighter turn of conversation.

“Did you hear that about his title?” he asked. “They are considering changing it from Draal the Deadly.”
“I thought it was ‘Destroyer’?”
AAARRRGGHH waved a hand dismissively.

“Either.”
“Indeed, but both I suppose shall become obsolete. Although, I’m not quite sure how he will feel about the lack of menace this new title will bestow.”

Alexandra allowed AAARRRGGHH to help her down a steeper stair, and smiled to herself.

“I don’t know; I kind of like the sound of ‘Draal the Dedicated’.”

Chapter 17

Chapter Text

Little deeds are like little seeds, they grow to flowers or to weeds.

• Daniel D. Palmer

Until the Trollhunter was fully healed and battle-ready she could not go up to spy on Bular and his plans, and as Trollmarket mostly repaired itself the only thing they could do was wait, occasionally taking on an odd-job or two as Alexandra slowly trained to get her strength back.

It was fortuitous, or perhaps ironic, that someone who injured so easily also healed quickly. But the unfortunate part was that Alexandra tended to push herself too far and re-injure herself, lengthening the process.

Blinky was greatly concerned about the wounds on her arms. She said that she would explain how she’d gotten them later, but when later came she said that she’d explain at a different later. His worry wasn’t so much about their cause as it was their nature. Trolls did not burn as humans did. Their skin, as living stone, did not boil and blister. Alexandra’s skin cracked as trolls’ did under too much heat, but the skin had twisted and warped unusually, and the first time Blinky had touched the still-hot burns they actually stiffened the tips of his fingers, as if they were mildly sunstained. She had been extremely careful to keep her hands bandaged up since then. He had wrapped her arms several times afterward, the heat having faded within a few hours, but she was till careful when moving them or touching someone. He and AAARRRGGHH agreed that the strange nature of her wounds made her uncomfortable, perhaps even more than the pain.

Due to their contact with the anstramonstrum the skin on Draal and Alexandra’s bodies and AAARRRGGHH’s right hand were all flaking away, like a thin layer of clay that had dried and cracked. The process, as AAARRRGGHH described it to Blinky, was not so much painful as itchy, but it still looked exceedingly unpleasant and made a terrific mess everywhere – although to be honest Trollmarket was a terrific mess anyway.

The monstrous thing had at least been contained, once Alexandra located its home crystal. Blinky supposed that the Changelings’ information about that had been useful, but he still wasn’t happy with her decision. Either way, the semi-demonic mist was now a trapped in its crystal and pulsating on a high shelf in Vendel’s quarters, an action that significantly cleared the minds of all in Trollmarket who had had to walk past it after the battle.

Draal was released from the examination dwell on the fifth day after the attack, when his lungs stopped cracking whenever he took too big of a breath. He was put on strict rest, and unlike the Trollhunter Draal was actually good about doing what Vendel said. The only reason that Blinky could get Alexandra to sit down was either to study or tend to Draal, who – despite his now welcomed status – she still seemed to consider her responsibility.

She kept him in her (now apparently his) room, and Blinky and AAARRRGGHH would occasionally come up to check on the two or continue the book-learning part of Alexandra’s training. It was a cramped space and AAARRRGGHH often begged off after a few minutes. Blinky had no idea why Alexandra had so many cats, alive. They seemed to adore AAARRRGGHH but Alexandra and Draal both yelled at him when he tried to eat one.

Once again Blinky was reminded of how studious the Trollhunter was, and he took pleasure in teaching her. Draal mostly slept, confined to the nest either by the Trollhunter’s glare or her sword, but on occasion he would stay up and listen. It was mildly depressing, but it reminded Blinky that Draal knew almost nothing about anything except how to be a Trollhunter. His chance at achieving his lifelong goal was most probably destroyed, and he had nothing – no goal or interest or profession to fall back to. All he could do was train Alexandra, and until he was fully healed he could not even do that. Draal was more dependent on the Trollhunter’s good will than Blinky had initially realized.

In turn, she seemed almost as dependent on him, or at least was willing to inconvenience herself for his sake.

“I had a little brother,” Alexandra murmured once. Blinky, who had been reading aloud about the mental and physical properties of various types of Heartstones, had almost not heard her.

“Beg pardon?”

Alexandra didn’t look at him. She sat on the nest across the room, leaning against the wall with her legs propped between the crystals on Draal’s back. If she had not spoken he would have mistaken her for sleeping.

“I had a little brother,” she repeated. “He died before I was able to know him. But. Still.”

Draal, with his head pillowed on his arms, didn’t move, but Blinky saw his mouth twitch.

“I didn’t think you felt very sisterly toward me,” he muttered, words muffled against his own elbow.

“No particularly,” Alexandra said, smirking. “But I imagine that taking care of you and enjoying your company would be something similar to having a brother. Or a pet.”
Draal snorted. “You have several pets, for whatever reason I cannot understand.”

“I take care of my cats because I like them,” Alexandra replied. “You simply are an argumentative diversion and a way for me to constantly annoy Kanjigar.”

“Stop arguing with my father, Trollhunter,” Draal growled. Alexandra grinned down at him.

“Make me,” she said, knowing perfectly well that they could not grapple without re-injuring themselves.

Blinky watched the exchange with wide eyes, speechless until the Trollhunter looked back at him, prompting him to continue reading. He knew that this time, this time, she had actually been honest.

He read for a little while after before Draal asked.

“What was his name?”
She didn’t answer.

Their plan to infiltrate the Janus Order was still in operation, but the Changelings’ attack on Trollmarket only raised further issue. Blinky had acquired a glamour mask easily enough, with the help of Alexandra’s many cats and their ceaseless mess, but who Alexandra was to disguise herself as was another issue.

She informed Blinky of everything the Changeling Stricklander had revealed before he had attacked her inside the Heartstone, including the interesting little fact that not all Changelings were accounted for in the Janus Order. Alexandra could disguise herself as any human and pretend to be one of these unknowns, but the unfortunate complication was that Bular and Stricklander would no doubt be on the watch for any suspicious figures prancing upon their hideout, claiming to be a long-lost member of the Janus Order. If Alexandra were instead to disguise herself as a known Changeling, however, she would have to be exceedingly careful to not be discovered as a double. Neither Blinky nor the Trollhunter knew if Stricklander was aware of the existence of glamour masks, but in the name of precaution they had to assume that he was.

Their next problem was figuring out why, exactly, the Janus Order – known for their caution and reliance on secrecy – had found fit to openly attack Trollmarket. Their main goal had not been made clear by Stricklander during Alexandra’s interrogation, even though they had a decent idea.

“Their goals were to capture you, at the very least, and kill AAARRRGGHH and Draal if they had the chance,” Alexandra supposed one evening, pacing around the Forge as she stretched. “Bular has seen me protecting the three of you and apparently was very intent of breaking my morale by harming you. They also wanted to know who I was and how much we knew.”
“You didn’t…?”
“I lied.”

Blinky ducked his head with chagrin, embarrassed to have even implied that she would have told them anything of value.

“I was right about them not knowing about the Leoht Stone, so now the entire Janus Order plus Bular and possibly his father believe that I’m a Changeling. I’m wondering if this attack was a way to punish them.”

Unable to say anything without giving himself away, Blinky settled for merely nodding along. Behind him on the stairs, AAARRRGGHH seemed to be having no trouble whatsoever hiding his knowledge of Alexandra’s true nature. Out of the two of them the former Gumm-Gumm had always been the steadiest, something that Blinky envied of him daily.

“Gunmar likes to break,” AAARRRGGHH spoke out, to Blinky’s surprise. He didn’t talk directly of Gunmar often. Alexandra nodded contemplatively, testing out how flexible her shoulders were. Tiny flakes of burned, dead skin clattered softly on the ground as she moved.

“Bular just likes to break bodies, not minds,” she muttered. “I don’t know which I prefer.”
“Neither,” AAARRRGGHH murmured. Blinky gently rubbed his arm.

“That being said, are you sure that you should be training this early? There are still many adjustments that need to be made to the plan, you can have more time to rest…”
The air hummed as the Trollhunter donned her armor, the sword slicing the air as she flipped it from one hand to another. He’d noticed that she was getting quite better about using all four arms.

“I’m not going to strain myself,” she growled, falling easily into form. “Our defenses are better but I can’t be that useless again.”
“I wouldn’t call it useless,” Blinky said quietly, watching from the stair beside AAARRRGGHH as the Hunter practiced her blocks. “You saved many lives that day. Draal, certainly, would have been lost if not for you.”
“And more died,” Alexandra replied, her voice low and tight. “It wasn’t enou – “
“I will hear no such thing,” Blinky said, standing quickly and slicing his hands through the air. Alexandra dropped the tip of her sword, looking at him in surprise.
“It will never be enough,” he said. He crossed his arms behind his back and walked forward, stopping just out of range of the Daylight Sword. “There will always be one that you missed, one that you could have saved if you had been fought stronger; moved faster; been better. And that will not be your fault. I have seen too many trolls fall to that kind of thinking, driving themselves to an early death out of endless guilt and the pressing insistence that they save everyone in the world. You will not be able to save everyone, Alexandra.”

“…I know.”

“Do you?”
She stepped forward in an attempt to intimidate him. “Yes, I do. I am neither God nor Merlin and I know that.”
“Good.”
Blinky turned away and settled back at AAARRRGGHH’s side. He pointed at her abdomen.

“Then you should have no problem ceasing your practice in order to take care of your wound.”

Alexandra pressed a hand against her side and made a frustrated noise, banishing her armor. A little bloodstain was showing against her vest.

“sh*t…”

Blinky then noticed something that she had said, something that might give her away should it be heard by any other trolls.

“’God’, Master Alexandra? I didn’t know you ascribed to that human belief.”
Alexandra, in the middle of examining her wound, didn’t flinch in the least bit.

“You pick up a few things after a while,” she said simply.

Oh, she’s good.

He would bet half of his secret stash of human romance novellas that she would never mention any God or human religion again. It made him feel a bit guilty to make her push aside even such a small part of herself, but if he was going to help his Trollhunter then he also needed to help protect her from herself, and the ignorance she still suffered from in terms of trollish customs and norms counted.

It didn’t help that she was still healing. Although severe wounds did last on trolls, it was unusual for something to bleed for more than a day or so, if even that; most trolls simply poured molten metal over the wound or used sheet metal to cover it, if magical remedies hadn’t already healed the worst. Her lasting injuries would be suspicious.

He knew that Vendel had his concerns, which was why Blinky was so insistent that Alexandra actually make an attempt to take care of herself.

This was proving difficult when a tall, broad troll gimped into the Hero’s Forge and started bleeding at Alexandra’s feet, with Draal walking behind him as his escort.

“Trollhunter!”
AAARRRGGHH gently offered his arm to the troll, who leaned on it with a grateful smile. He swallowed with difficulty and looked properly at Alexandra, which made him stumble back a small step. She was a bit shorter than he, but as far as regular trolls went she was rather intimidating in the eyes of a stranger.

“Um.”
“Hold this for us, please,” Alexandra said, and nodded to Blinky. He tossed a gaggletack out of his pocket and the strange troll caught it out of reflex, blinking as he realized what he was holding.

“Um. Why - ?”

“Who are you, and why are you here,” Alexandra asked, not unkindly. The troll gently handed the totem back to Blinky.

“You are the Trollhunter? My name is Felsiclase. I have need to call on you,” he said. He glanced down at his chest, which wasn’t actually bleeding anymore, but the wounds that slashed through the green skin still looked quite fresh.
“There’s a monster in the forests near a human town I live under,” said Felsiclase. “It’s been attacking the humans that hike there and there’s no one in my Heartstone that’s enough of a fighter to kill it. It hasn’t killed any of us yet, but it will still attack if we go too far from our home. We need you to kill it for us.”
Blinky felt his stomachs drop. They needed their Trollhunter here! Trollmarket was still recovering and their Hunter was recovering and Draal was recovering and it was too soon, they weren’t ready for another calling. What if the Changelings attacked again? What if Alexandra fell to this monster?

“Where is the town,” asked Alexandra.
The troll smiled in relief.
“It’s Ely, in Minnesota, in the Superior National Forest. People started disappearing around the old mine shafts; we thought that one of our own was taking them at first, because we still mine the ore there and that’s how you get into our Heartstone, from the mines, but then one of our collectors saw this thing grab a camper. It’s probably killed about six people so far, and it’s wounded four of us.”
Despite his reservations, Blinky was intrigued. He stepped forward, ready to memorize any and all details.

“What can you tell us about the creature?”
Felsiclase shuddered.

“Gratz, our collector, said it was probably about fifteen feet tall, and skeletally thin. He said it smelled like it had died already, and everybody who’s been attacked said it had fangs and a long tongue. It was very fast and killed the humans quickly. I didn’t get to see it clearly, but…”

He placed a hand over the wounds on his chest. “It definitely has claws, too.”
Blinky was grimacing before Felsiclase finished his description, already having an idea of what the Trollhunter was to face.

Alexandra glanced over to him.

“You know what this is?”
“I will need to do some research,” he replied, already cataloguing what books he’d need, “but I do believe so. If you will give me a few hours…”
Alexandra nodded. She gestured to Draal, who had been standing to the side.

“Will you take him to get something to eat?” she asked, gesturing to Felsiclase. The green troll held up his hands.
“I’ve been here before, I know where to go,” he said. “Thank you, Trollhunter. I…hope that you can stop this thing.”

Draal stepped up, watching as Felsiclase limped back out of the Forge.

“If you are going to fight this creature, then I shall accompany you,” he said, just as Blinky had expected. Alexandra, contrary to what Blinky expected, accepted the offer.

“We’ll need the muscle,” she said when Blinky protested. “AAARRRGGHH’s not going to fight the beast and I’m not in my best shape right now.”

“You cannot leave Trollmarket unprotected!”
“I won’t,” she said, smiling faintly. “Trollmarket protects itself and anyhow, I don’t think that there will be another attack soon. Their forces are decimated and they can’t get back in now. Whatever they were after, they didn’t get it, and they can’t try again.”
“And we never thought they would in the first place,” Blinky argued desperately, despite knowing, knowing, that he would never change her mind. “I…”
“You don’t have to come,” Alexandra said, to his surprise. “If you’re that uncomfortable, then you and AAARRRGGHH stay behind. We’ll be fine on our own.”

Blinky knew that the Trollhunter was most likely in the right. The recent attack had put him severely on edge, but she was right; after such a defeat and surrender, the Changelings would be unlikely to attack again. But it gnawed on them how easily they had surrendered, and how they still did not know what they were after. His library had been completely untouched, the bridge stone still hidden in its box.

Conflict ate at his heart and stomachs, and he turned away, grumbling to himself as he sat back down beside his friend.

Alexandra apparently already considered the conversation over, for she had given Draal a little shove in the direction of the bridge.

“If you’re going with us, you need to bathe. You stink like goblin and Changeling and you’ll lead the thing right to us.”
Draal huffed.

“Only when it becomes convenient do you finally escort me to the baths,” he said, to the Trollhunter’s smirk.

“I’ll scrape off the guts myself,” she said, slipping past him and walking onto the bridge. “I need to get clean anyway.”
Blinky and AAARRRGGHH glanced at each other before Blinky took a step after her.

“Master Alexandra, your wound,” he reminded her. “Perhaps you let us take care of that first?”
“Sorry, Blinky,” she called back, not even turning around as Draal lumbered behind her. “I’ll be washing my hair.”

She did feel guilty about not taking Draal to the baths earlier, but his filthiness was his own fault by now – he’d regained his status and thus the right to walk in Trollmarket unmolested, and he still hadn’t gotten himself cleaned up. She’d been busy, but he really had no excuse.

Men.

He was still peeling and flaking over portions of his body, and as the dead skin fell off so did most of the Changeling and goblin mess. He looked horrible with the cracked skin and patches of gore, and Alexandra wanted to shove him through a car wash. As it was, she only had a few large pumice stones and her own claws, which would simply have to do.

Alexandra checked the wrappings on her hands before getting to work, knowing full well that Draal’s literal Ghostly Father would be watching them like a hawk.

It had been a very long time since she’d taken a bath with a man. It probably would have been more appealing if there weren’t bits of dried intestine flaking off of him and she didn’t have burned arms and a half-healed wound on her side that pulled when she stepped into the water.

But to the assholes in the Void, they were still naked and in a dark, relatively secluded area, so Alexandra took the opportunity to give Draal’s back a very thorough wash, scrubbing her claws between the crystal projections on his shoulders and spine, which apparently felt so good that he gave a little rumble and let her do her thing without argument.

Alexandra took a look around, making sure that they were alone, before doing a little trick she’d taught herself back in the seventeen-hundreds; she partially Changed her hands, the tiny human fingers getting between the crevices of his crystal growths significantly easier.

Draal stiffened at the flash of light and suddenly lighter touch, but he didn’t speak or make a movement, to her relief. She had never before touched a troll with human hands. She had never found need to take that kind of risk, nor had the sort of friend with whom she even could.

Taking a bath with her friend was one thing, but daring to reveal herself this far was another thing, and she suddenly felt immensely uncomfortable and exposed. She turned her hands back and kept scrubbing, watching how the light reflecting from the water played with the crystals beneath her fingers.

Since he didn’t have any hair, Alexandra washed his horns and the back of his head instead. Kanjigar was probably having an aneurism.

She was just sponging water to the back of his ears when Draal’s head shifted.

“What are you doing and why are you doing it?”
“I’m trying to piss off your father,” she answered, her smirk evident in her voice. Draal was quiet for a moment and then he nodded.

“Then you’d better let me wash your hair,” he said, and her laughter bounced across the walls.

Droplets of water made little pit, pit, pats on the leathery coverings of Kanjigar’s old bed as Alexandra’s hair slowly dried. She turned the page of a handwritten journal, looking for a sign of what she might be dealing with.

As Trollhunter she was duty-bound to fight whatever threatened the human and troll worlds, although the ‘human’ part was more often left to the humans themselves. But when monsters were the threat, the Trollhunter was called in. As a bunch they tended to write down everything, and Kanjigar had amassed a neat little series of journals inscribed with creatures various Trollhunters had had to face over the centuries. Alexandra had some difficulty deciphering some of the handwriting, but she found a few cases of skeletal, ravenous beasts being encountered over the North American continent. Google, honestly, could probably be more enlightening, but it would be a while before she could get to the surface to use a computer.

The stories seemed mainly rooted in Native American folklore, but there were relatively recent accounts as well. The illustrations were…interesting, at least. Alexandra hadn’t had many encounters with actual monsters, not since her days in the Darklands, but the pictures and descriptions of these ‘wendigos’ were not encouraging.

There were few concrete ways to kill it. Some used fire. Some used Daylight. Some used fists and teeth. The creature was both material and spirit, corporeal and incorporeal.

And it’s not very damn useful,Alexandra thought with a huff as she closed the last of the journals.

Alexandra was quite pleased that she would not have to sneak out under Blinky’s nose, and he and AAARRRGGHH said goodbye to Alex and Draal just outside of the gyre portal. The gyre took them almost directly to Felsiclases’s mine, stopping in a sewer just outside of the city of Ely. It was a little bit cooler, with a damp kind of air that was charged with the heavy smell of wet wood and the distant scent of a chill on Lake Superior. They arrived three hours before sunset, so that Alexandra could meet with the trolls of the Isarnan Heartstone, a deep red crystal that was embedded in a cavern of gleaming black rock. The effect was beautiful and unsettling, but the pulse of the tiny Heartstone was just as welcoming to her as the big one back home.

When had she begun to think of Trollmarket as home…?

The cavern’s grim appearance wasn’t quite as horrifying as the fact that there weremotherf*cking gaggletacks EVERYWHERE.Alex almost expected the whole place to crackle with magic when she stepped inside. Apparently Isarnan Heartstone was built underneath one of the purest veins of magical iron in the country. Their main export was iron charms and totems to protect against fae, spells, and curses, but gaggletacks – although they had fallen out of popularity when cars replaced horses and the likelihood of confusing a gaggletack with a true horseshoe had decreased – were still in business. The entire place was decorated with rejected or low-powered totems and charms, from the door handles to the light fixtures.

Alexandra stepped very,verycarefully, and kept her hands covered in her armored gloves.

She was duly introduced to the trolls within, around four hundred or so who had gathered in the largest cavern to welcome her and Draal. Apparently the Trollhunter hadn’t visited in over a century, and they kindly expressed regret that she could not have come under better circ*mstances, as well as concern for her present state. Since she was still bandaged from fingertip to shoulder, had cracks in the skin of her face and torso, and scratches across her cheeks and nose, they wondered openly if she was up to killing the monster. Draal was hasty to reassure them, citing her battles with Bular and singing praises that Alexandra was certain he was making up on the spot, but eventually the Isarnan trolls were appeased. She would have to fight the thing whether she was up for it or not, anyway.

Alex made a point to talk to and get the opinions of the trolls who had been attacked by the wendigo. They bore deep, iron-patched wounds that matched the ones on Felsiclase’s chest and they were quite eager to share their stories. Weapons came next, when the trolls looked at Draal’s empty hands and declared him fit to be a dead troll. They equipped him with swords and spears, shields and wonderful little flares that would set just about anything on fire once dropped, but he examined little and chose even less. He and Alexandra were taken to their temporary room soon afterward, and two hours before dark, Alex started to leave.

“You are going up?”
She paused with her hand on the door.

“I need to Google a few things,” she muttered. Draal’s brow furrowed.

“What is a Google?”
“I’mresearching,”Alex replied. “The human libraries are easier to look through. I’ll bring you back a snack.”

Even with her gloves on the gaggletack handle crackled faintly when she opened the door, to her annoyance. A shiver ran up her spine and she strode away as quickly as she could. More and more trolls were coming up and about as night loomed, and it was a matter of patience to get outside. She only remembered just before entering the final hallway that she could simply tell everyone who questioned her leaving about the Leoht Stone, and so she dropped her sneaking act in favor of just walking out the front door. The few trolls who saw her off gasped in surprise but thoroughly enjoyed the spectacle when she explained.

At the edge of the woods she turned forms. There was no time or opportunity to manage her appearance, and unfortunately – due to her disabled eye – she stood out. It would simply have to do, because she didn’t have enough time.

The local library confirmed her prior research but was just as contradictory on the actual nature of the beast. Apparently, it varied from encounter to encounter. She pilfered three lightbulbs out of the library’s lamps in annoyance, and began the trek out to the woods under the yellow glaze of sunset. It was dark enough when she hit the woods for her to change, and in the silence of twilight she took a quieter road, stepping as lightly as her larger body could allow. From her discussions with the Isarnan trolls it seemed that the beast had no one area where it attacked, no distinct territory; the victims had been in varying parts of the woods, both on and off the trails.

Going out just before dark probably had been a rather stupid idea, now that she thought about it. The monster wouldn’t politely wait until she had fetched Draal and prepared herself to go hunting for it.

Alex summoned her armor and sword as she crept along toward the mines, half expecting to see the glint of eyes in the brief blue flash, but the woods were quiet.

Draal greeted her at the entrance to the trolls’ caverns, the gleam of a gifted short-sword catching the moonlight. He handed her several sets of flares to keep in her pocket and sheathed the sword at his hip, happily munching on the lightbulbs she had stolen. They set off without words, merely nodding to each other before heading into the woods.

Unfamiliar with the area, they simply walked. They either would come across the creature or they would not, but they kept their footsteps quiet and their ears open. The woods were not silent; nocturnal animals rustled about, wind whispered in the tops of trees and leaves fell on their damp, dying brethren. From everywhere came both close and distant calls of water moving over stone, and a wolfen howl echoed perhaps a mile away.

They crossed a wide creek, and then another, and then ventured down a stony hill. The farther out they got the warier Alex became. The waiting was starting to get to her. When she looked back at Draal he seemed almost unaffected, but she noticed how he turned and turned his sword in his hand.

“I don’t like this, Trollhunter,” he murmured. She could only silently agree.

Hours passed with nothing more than the calls of hunting birds and the slow passage of the moon and stars, and Alex began to get angry. As they walked across the base of a rocky outcrop she was just about ready to scream bloody murder just to get the beast to show up and stop making her so jumpy with the goddamnwaiting.

Finally,finally, her nose found a clue. There was a faint rotting smell, like something decomposing just over the crest of the hill.

“Let’s move up there,” she whispered, pointing the tip of her sword to the rocky crag. Draal made no other noise but an irritatingly loudwhumpof leaves and broken sticks. Alex looked at him in annoyance and felt her heart drop into her stomach at the sight of him, laid out on the ground with five gashes opening him from hip to sternum.

She hadn’t heard a single thing.

Terror instantly seized her veins with ice water and she spun in a circle, fumbling with her flares before dropping half onto the ground. The wet leaves were reluctant to catch and she pumped blue fire onto her sword, and only then did she see the flash of white eyes, gazing at her calmly from about chest-height, ten feet away, two solid balls of white that stared unblinkingly. The eyes blurred, and five-inch claws sank into her breastplate, knocking her into the smoldering leaves before she could even move her sword. A thin, keening howl tore from the creature’s throat as it disappeared back into the darkness outside of the tiny circle of fire.

Alexandra couldn’t go after it, because Draal was down. Alexandra couldn’t help Draal, because she had to keep on guard. Alexandra couldn’tdo anythingbut wait for it to attack again, and when it did, it tore a gash so deep into her shoulder that she dropped her sword. The flash of summoning it again finally illuminated the creature as it sprinted its retreat, knocking down a tree in its unbelievable haste. Limbs of rotting skin stretched over bone disappeared into the shadows of the woods and waited for its next attack.

Alexandra did the only thing she could do, and stepped outside of her fire. The light had damaged her night vision and she suffered for it, charging at the creature with a cry only to be knocked on her ass, the screech of teeth against metal ringing in her ears. This close she could smell the fetid stench of the monster, like a corpse left to bloat in the summer heat, decay and putrefaction steaming from its jaws as it tried to bite through the gauntlets of her second set of arms. For such a thin thing it was immensely strong, and when it realized that it couldn’t bite her hands off it wrapped its tongue around her wrists so that she could not pull away, and rent at her chest and torso with all four sets of claws.

Alexandra finally got her wits back about her and headbutted the wendigo, tearing a hole in its rotting cheek with the tip of a horn as it twisted away in pain. The claws were starting to tear deep enough to pierce her skin. She pulled her lower arms up toward her face and bit through the tongue that bound them.

A scream like creaking trees pierced her ears and she kicked the creature away, spitting violently to rid her mouth of the taste of gangrenous blood. Stumbling against the side of the hill, her head spun violently with the pain and shock of attack, and Alexandra could only keep one steady eye on the thing, barely illuminated by the distant fires that crackled near Draal’s body. It had moved her away from the area so quickly, without her even noticing that they were moving. Was it trying to take her to a certain spot? A more secluded area, where there was no other light than the moon and she could not see where it attacked from?

The beast rushed by her with a creak of bones and a splatter of cold blood, and she had no choice but to follow it, the last light of the flares disappearing around the corner of the high crag. It came at her just as she turned, but she was expecting it, and she got a heavy hit on its torso, the blue fire on her sword searing its flesh as its left arm was cut away at the bicep. The wendigo smacked her away with its remaining hand and she tumbled down the hill, landing on her side against a slick stone before sliding off it and into the shallows of a crackling stream.

Draal’s voice cut through the darkness.

“Trollhunter!”

Panic and relief seared her soul and she twisted around, finding unsteady footing at the edge of the creek.

“Draal! I’m here, I need the flares!”
“Trollhunter, help me!”
Draal’s voice came from right behind her, and when she turned the wendigo was standing toe to toe with her, looking down at her from a tremendous height. It calmly stood upright, dark ichor dripping from its maw, and it twitched its head slightly to the side.

“Alexandra,” it called, in Draal’s voice. “Where are you? Please help me.”

She stabbed at it in blind terror, and even with her sword scraping through its sternum it softly stepped a little closer, the broken rack of its ribcage brushing against her torn armor.

“Alexandra,” it said again, in Draal’s voice, “Help me, my friend. Please, please, don’t hurt me.”

How dare it.

Alexandra grabbed the creature in a harsh embrace and then wrenched her arms apart, taking great strips of skin out of its back before she kneed it in the stomach and kicked it away. But it had found something to unsettle her, and its half-human, rotting face opened in a grimace.

“Don’t say another word, you sick f*ck,” she hissed, swinging her sword at its teeth. It grinned at her and reeled backward, sticking out its cut-off tongue.

“Don’t listen,” it replied in her own voice before it climbed backward up the hill from the stream, uprooting saplings and small boulders to try and crush her. Alexandra surged forward, lighting her sword aflame and tearing after it, terror and hatred rising in her belly as she dodged the debris.

“Please – “
Her claws a foot away from its neck, Alex froze. The wendigo jumped away and picked up the arm she had severed, devouring it whole with a nauseating crunch. It spoke again in a human child’s voice.

“Please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me, I just wanna gohome, I just wanna find my daddy…”
The beast grew before her eyes, the skeletal limbs stretching and lengthening a half a foot. It saw the terror and the horror in her face and crouched in a vulnerable position, and even though Alex knew it was waiting for her to strike shecouldn’t, because it had pierced her, its voice slicing at her insides as its claws had her armor.

“Please, I don’t wanna die,” it cried, a different child’s fearful moans falling from its fanged jaws. “Mommy, I’m so scared,please!I don’t wanna die, I’m hurt, I’m hurt, stophurting me,I wanna go home!”
Her research had told her than it could mimic voices but she’d never expected this, could not have prepared forthis, and her sword arm trembled even as the creature flexed its claws and sneered its bloody jaws at her stricken face.

In the end, the ploy worked, but the wendigo apparently hadn’t anticipated Draal driving his sword so far through its back that the troll’s fingers burst out of its chest. Alexandra shook herself out of her shock and removed from the beast its remaining three limbs.

Draal looked at her in utter confusion but she shook her head, as well as her hands and knees and the rest of her body.God, she was a mess, and she sank into the wet leaves on the forest floor.

“Won’t kill it,” Alexandra spat, her voice hoarse with shock-tears. “Stabbed it before. Gotta find a way to kill it.”
“We can try the fire,” Draal said, and then fell down on his knees. The deep tears across his torso glowed with whatever weird crystalline magic was inside all trolls, and they bled greatly but sluggishly. The wendigo, limbless and trapped with Draal’s fist through its chest, thrashed and wriggled with rage and Draal had a hard time keeping it from touching the ground.

Alex lit the flares still remaining from Draal’s supply, but to no avail. The rotting skin of the creature simply rotted some more, and the howls of agony echoed through the woods, but it did not die. Alexandra even removed her gauntlets and her bandages from one hand and tried to burn it to death herself, but only ended up with painful welts and blisters.

The wendigo started to retch, shivering uncontrollably as if it were drowning without water. It wasn’t dying, but the bleeding stumps of its arms swiped harmlessly over its chest and throat, as if something was trying toget out.

Alexandra, now calmed down considerably, remembered her research on the thing.
“There were some legends that said that it wasn’t so much acreatureas aspirit; some sort of demon that possessed the body of a greedy human. Some of the Trollhunters’ accounts said that they killed it easily enough with force, but some had to destroy not just the body but the possessing spirit as well. I think that’s the kind of wendigo we’re dealing with here.”
“Great,” Draal said loudly, the arm still impaled through the beast propped up against the side of a rock. “Let’s then destroy the spirit. Shall we try stabbing it again?”
Alexandra ignored the sarcasm and the exhausted troll, pressing a hand on her haphazardly-bandaged shoulder as she thought.

“It knows its host is useless now,” she mused. “It’s not even trying to fight anymore, look, it’s trying to get out. The body’s useless but it’s still trapped inside. If we can figure out a way to kill the body we’ll still need to trap and kill the spirit. I’ll be right back.”
She stood abruptly and climbed up the rocky hill, setting off in the general direction of the Isarnan mines.

“I’ll just wait here, then,” Draal angrily called after her.

It took her a solid hour to find the mines again in the broken moonlight, only the faint scent of troll leading her back. She shook off any offers of healing and medication and asked for a solid iron box. When she gave her reasons they upgraded and sent her with an iron canister, coated with silver on the inside, imbued and carved with protective spells. Iron and silver were the best metals used to hold and contain spirits and magic. Alexandra took the canister and several charms that they also offered her, hoping to contain the spirit to one area so that it could not fly off and infect anyone from the town.

Draal was right where she’d left him, if a little more slumped and grumpy. The wendigo was still trying to choke and claw at itself, and the power of the charms Alexandra carried gave her a unique sight; a human man, cut to ribbons and pieces, skeletal beyond all survival and entwined with a greedy, hungry spirit.

Draal watched in silence as Alex crouched by the creature’s side. It still tried to bite her, and whimpered with the voice of a frightened old woman. She touched first an iron charm to it, then a silver, and only the silver made it shriek. She didn’t have enough silver charms to keep it contained.

“I’m going to stab the heart,” Alex said quietly. “That’s what one of the legends said. If that doesn’t work, we’ll take the head.
“How will you keep it from simply flying away,” Draal asked, as if discussing the weather. Apparently being both injured and bored had a rather interesting effect on his already scintillating personality.

“I’ll give it a target,” Alexandra muttered, opening the canister and rising to her feet.

It would be too much to ask Draal to look away. She wasn’t ready, she wasn’t ready, but she couldn’t ask him to look away.

She hesitated a hair too long, and he asked her what she was doing. She didn’t ask him to look away.
The Change was rent from her like the long-held breath of a drowning man, a choking sensation to what was usually painless and smooth. The light seared the trees and stones around them and illuminated Draal’s wide eyes and she refused to look at him, keeping her armor on as if it could protect her from his sight. She drove Daylight through the wendigo’s heart before the Change was even finished, and the flames ate the desiccated flesh there as they had not before, devouring the creature in blue, crackling fire as it screamed and shrieked in dozens of fused voices. It crumbled to cold ash and bone away from Draal’s fist, and the remaining spirit shivered in the moonlight before focusing on her.

Alexandra’s mindfloodedwith greed; everything she had stolen, every life she had taken, every time she had pushed and shoved and snuck her way into a more powerful position or the good of a fool’s heart, every time she had taken more than her share. It pulled at every instance of greed in her life, but honestly, as a whole it really wasn’t much. In terms of deadly sins Alex had always considered herself to be more aligned with wrath, or perhaps envy or lust. The wendigo tugged at the paltry bits of greed that she offered it and flew straight at her human form, and she snapped it shut within the canister, Changing back as soon as the lid was closed. The whole thing had taken less than seven seconds, she had counted, and Draal couldn’t have seen her that closely, not with the darkness and the quick, bright flashes ruining his eyes.

Alexandra still refused to look at him, laying where he was with his arm still upraised and his eyes wide with surprise. She grabbed his wrist and hauled him onto her good shoulder, pleading mentally for him toshut up, shut up, don’t speak of this, don’t talk about it!

As if sensing her mood, Draal was silent the entire journey back through the woods, and let Alexandra speak as she allowed for him to be treated but announced that they would not be staying any further. She wanted the thing dead, and she could not kill it in a Heartstone that had so many openings to the world upstairs, with mine shafts and guarded but still open entrances that would allow the spirit to fly back and infect another human.

The gyre trip was not short enough to stop Draal from finally trying to talk to her.

“Why are you so sullen?” He asked, glancing at her with a hand on the wendigo’s canister, the other across his bandages. “It is not as if I did not know that you are a Changeling.”
Alexandra took a particularly violent turn, but failed to unseat him. Unfortunately, he seemed to enjoy the gyre.

I don’t like to be that exposed,she thought.

No troll has seen me like that,she thought.

I’ve never willingly Changed in front of someone, she thought.Not someone I wasn’t going to kill, at least.

I wasn’t ready.

“Secrecy about what…I am has been my watchword forfour hundred years,” Alex hissed. “Give me some f*ckingtime. Nobody was supposed to know.”Nobody was supposed to see.

“Do recall that I had an understanding with one of your kind,” Draal said quietly. “I saw her Change more than once.”
“Nobodywas supposed to know.”

That was the end of it; Alexandra would speak no further. The trip ended before Draal could argue, and they disembarked with an unfinished discussion hanging over their heads.

Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were holed up in the library, the bustle of Trollmarket almost back to normal as Draal and Alexandra travelled through it to get to Alex’s trainer.

AAARRRGGHH quickly smothered the flame with his hand as Blinky knocked a candle over onto a sheet of parchment, having startled at Alexandra’s entrance.

“Oh! I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon! And so injured – but I suppose you disposed of the beast?”
Alex took the canister from Draal and showed it to Blinky, who looked it up and down as AAARRRGGHH sniffed it and them. The blood and ash on their clothes and bodies made him sneeze.

“Foul indeed,” Blinky said, grimacing at their soiled states. “Do your wounds need further attention?”
“We’ll see Vendel in a bit,” Alexandra promised. Apparently her word was not enough, because Blinky wrangled a promise from Draal as well, that he would ensure that she did as she said.

“Felsiclase will be joyous indeed that you slayed the beast,” said Blinky, after he ascertained that neither of them were going to fall dead to the floor. “But I wonder, how do you intend to kill the spirit? We already have an anstramonstrum taking up a good corner of Vendel’s keep, I highly doubt that he will appreciate having to look after yet another trapped semi-demonic entity. Whatever you do, do it away fromme.”

Alexandra smiled wryly, and popped off the lid of the canister.

Blinky and AAARRRGGHH scrambled backward with ringing yells as the smoky body of the spirit emerged from the canister and flewstraightfor Blinky, wisps of ethereal grey coming at him like the teeth of a wolf.

The spirit bounced harmlessly off of the troll, although Blinky seemed perfectly content to have a complete and utter fit anyway, which sent Draal into a gale of laughter.

“AAAHHH!Getawayyou demonic fiend! Getawaaaay!”

“It cannot hurt you,” Draal tried, to no avail. The blue troll was terrified and refused to listen to him, until he and Alex fanned the spirit away with sword and hands. It hovered and shuttered with desperate aggravation, and then slowly dissipated, too far from any human host to survive.

AAARRRGGHH had already enveloped Blinky into a massive hug, where the horrified troll was still trembling.

“Did youseethat,” he said shakily. “It came straight for me!Me!As Iknew it would, having doneextensiveresearch on the nature of the thing, but did you care? Did – “
“I knew it was going to come for you,” Alexandra said, banishing her sword and armor. Blinky stared at her with absolute incredulity before his face turned angry and he tried to clamor out of AAARRRGGHH’s tightened arms.

“You set me up as BAIT?”

“It couldn’t hurt you, Blinky, it was a human demon! You’re a damntroll!”
“The nerve! The temerity! The brazenness!”
Behind her, Draal was having to lean against the wall.

“I’ll see you for training tomorrow, Blinky,” said Alexandra, grabbing Draal by the arm and pushing him out of the library.

“You should be sure to take care with those wounds of yours tonight, Master Alexandra, because come tomorrowIcertainly shallnot!See you tomorrow indeed, why I have never been so…”

Blinky’s grumbling voice faded as they made their way to the healing dwell, neither of them intent on being fussed at personally by Vendel. If either of them were a little quieter when they finally reached Draal’s room and settled down for bed, a little more distant, then they neither of them made to remedy it.

Draal fell onto the nest immediately upon entering, his hand draping over the edge of the bed and knocking over a bag of cat food, which the mewling denizens of the room attacked with fervor. Alexandra desperately wanted to rid herself of the stench of decaying flesh, but she tripped over a cat on her way to the door and decided thatnope, food and a bath would have to wait until her sudden exhaustion had retreated for another day. She turned back to the nest, and stopped.

There was a gaggletack sitting on the lone desk, amid the scattered journals and leavings of forgotten meals. She felt its tinny, aching hum in the blood of her nearest hand.

Bared of their bandages, her fingertips sang with the forceful magic as she reached out with a shaking arm, only to snatch it back when the power shocked her just before touching it.

WhyDraal had a gaggletack…

But it wasn’t important.

And yet…

But Alexandra did not leave for her own room, and Draal did not ask her to, and if in the quietness of the night Alex clutched a little more to Draal than she usually did, well. They didn’t talk about that, either.

Chapter 18

Chapter Text

*Warning for violence/injury to a child, character death, suggestive themes, and bloody violence*

Chapter description in end notes.

I wouldn’t mind if life left me…

Wingless

Burnt to cinders

Ripped by storm

Scattered…like weeds

Celestially wounded

Without cherry blossoms to perish with

But I would cry

With head held in my hands

If it left me…unfulfilled.

• Sanober Khan

The baths were honestly becoming Alexandra’s favorite place, and she moaned when she sank into the warm, sulfuric waters. The stench of decaying flesh and gore washed off from her and down the underground river, and she fervently scrubbed her arms and face, taking care to not aggravate her wounds but ignoring all orders to keep her bandages dry. Getting wendigo residue off was more important than not having to re-wrap her dressings. She hated that thing.

It was a good thing that the armor, once banished, reappeared whole and untouched by previous battles, or else she would have the worst time repairing it and getting the blood and muck out of its crevices.

She could only scrub her hair with one hand, since her top left shoulder had a very lovely gash in it. It was getting longer and she no longer bothered to keep it bound in a ponytail. It didn’t act quite as stiff and immobile as troll hair was supposed to, but it still wasn’t as tame as human hair. She wondered if she should cut it, but it was the only thing that made her feel really feminine; her species of troll didn’t have much in the way of sexual dimorphism apart from size, and there was nothing that could be considered feminine in a human perspective. She’d gotten the gist that females of her kind were supposed to be larger and scarier, but in terms of human standards she probably looked more male than ever. Throughout four centuries, Alex had always been more aggressive of mind and action if she could get away with it, but she had never thought herself unfeminine, and the physical loss of it with her troll form was a bit jarring.

Bagdwella at least could boast the hips and the bust; washing in the gleaming semi-dark, Alex felt nothing but flat planes and developing muscle. Missing boobs was not something that she had anticipated when taking up her troll form for good.

But trolls had different standards of femininity and beauty, she remembered. Although her human form became rough and rougher over the years, due to her two forms beginning to blend, the twisted scars and muscles she was accumulating in her troll body were considered attractive, which would simply have to do. After her years of manipulating and flirting her way out of sticky situations, it was an ugly truth that being attractive in at least one way afforded one more opportunities and paved easier paths.

One thing, at least, had not changed much, and Alexandra laughed out loud at the thought of sidling up to Draal and asking him to help make her feel like a woman. The poor boy would probably have no idea what she was talking about, but his father, at least, would have himself a ghostly heart attack.

Still giggling, Alex rose from the baths and left for the Forge, not bothering to don more than her trousers and belt, since wearing her vest was less a necessity than a habit.

True to his word, Blinky was waiting there for her, looking significantly more grouchy than usual. It did not take much to guess that he was still annoyed about the trick she had pulled the evening before.

“Ah, Alexandra,” he said, throwing out his arms in welcome. “Our illustrious and honorable Trollhunter, returned from a dangerous but successful mission! I have no doubt that your considerable skills will hardly be challenged by today’s training.”
Alexandra’s mood, lightened by her relaxing morning, fell immediately. Nobody heaped that much praise on somebody without planning on sh*tting on their day.

“You have either excelled or steadily improved in all areas except one,” Blinky said, crossing his arms behind his back and pacing around the arena’s edge. “So today I introduce to you your opponent: the lady Vorfrida!”

Alexandra turned to the right as a door opened, and saw a troll of Nomura’s ilk jump into the arena.

Blinky, returning to his spot by the stairs, pressed the button for the arena’s controls.

“May she teach you well,” he said with a grin. The floor shivered beneath Alexandra’s feet, and when she looked back up at Blinky there was a very ugly amusem*nt in his eyes.

f*ck.

Alex had it made where strength and agility were needed; she had four arms to block and attack, enough upper body strength to hold her own, and flexibility to roll and maneuver however she liked. Her troll body’s main detriment was that, in contrast to her sizeable upper torso and arm strength, she had itty-bitty mother-f*cking weiner dog legs.

Vorfrida jumped like a cricket as the arena turned from its usual flat surface into the three-dimensional nightmare that was hidden under its floors, and Alexandra vehemently cursed under her breath.

Blinky, being a cousin of Alex’s clan, knew very well that they were one of the few species of trolls that had absolutely no jumping ability. Even Draal’s stumpy little legs could get him far, far into the air, and a troll like Vorfrida, who was tall, lithe, and built with legs like springs, laughably outmatched Alex.

The other woman was an acrobat in comparison to Alex’s clumsy, heavy jumps and stumbles. She used her arms as much as she could, but the reality was that even if she had the reach to catch a ledge, she still needed to be able to jump high enough to actually grab it, and she probably looked like a really hideous little kid, trying to hop onto a too-high table.

f*cking Blinky, Alex grumbled internally, running forward and grabbing another level as it rose past her. Vorfrida, who had been allowing her to get her bearings, swung up like a lemur and kicked her in the face, nearly causing Alex to lose her grip. She swat, but the troll was already dancing across the next level, watching her with amusem*nt.

“You’re putting too much on your legs,” Vorfrida said, walking along the edge of the level as it turned vertically. “You’re never going to catch up that way. Use your arms as much as you can and just let your legs supplement.”

Alex growled with effort but pulled herself up, pushing off her level with all six limbs. She landed on the level below rather farther than before, but the movement had pulled at the cuts on her shoulder and when she landed, she landed badly.

Blinky, being the goddamn son of the Devil, apparently was having a marvelous time watching.

“If I apologize, will you stop this,” Alexandra yelled, teetering unpleasantly on the edge of a blade. Blinky raised a brow.

“Why, Master Alexandra, I quite forgave you already,” he said calmly. “But this is an important part of your training, and I would be remiss as an instructor if I did not allow you to learn it.”
“I’ve learned enough, thank you,” Alexandra snarled, managing to land a glancing hit on Vorfrida as she twirled past. “Are we done yet?!”

“Oh, good gracious no, we’ve barely started! I can’t imagine why you seem to be having such difficulty.”

Alexandra, lowering herself off of a ledge before Vorfrida could strike her, shot him a brief middle finger.

“You know bloody well why! We’re not made for this sh*t!”

She couldn’t see over her shoulder, but just as Vorfrida crouched down by her hands she heard the grin in Blinky’s voice.

“That, Master Alexandra,” he said, and she knew he was having himself a wonderful time, “is why we train.”

Alexandra was allowed to collapse when she was finally able to grab Vorfrida’s knee and hurl her off of the top of the Death Arena, where she landed on one leg and sprained the ankle. Alex still had to get down, but it was so much easier when she didn’t have another troll trying to pin her. Vorfrida allowed Alex to help her into the healing dwell, and they parted on amiable terms. She and Blinky, however, were apparently still at odds, because once she dropped Vorfrida off he gestured for her to follow him without a single word. She paused to buy some breakfast and then hurried after him as he slid through the crowds on the way to the library.

AAARRRGGHH was already inside and happily ate the food wrapper that Alex offered him.

“Good session?” he asked, grinning at the glare Alexandra shot him. She finished off her breakfast and threw herself down on a heap of books at his side, stretching luxuriously before lounging against his thigh. AAARRRGGHH was a touchy enough troll that she could get away with it, but she knew it would probably annoy Blinky to see her getting so familiar with his friend.

“Your dear companion is a sad*st, you know that?”

AAARRRGGHH rumbled happily and Alex relaxed further, enjoying the unusual amount of heat he put out against her sore and tired limbs. Blinky came in a moment later and was, as she predicted, annoyed.

“You may need to take notes, Master Alexandra,” he said, shoving a pencil and booklet into her left hands. She pulled herself into a sitting position as he scoured the bookshelves.

“I know that Vendel wished to be a part of our meetings,” he said quietly, with a short glance to the doorway. “But – given the unusual nature of our situation – I felt it may be prudent to discuss what we must do about the Killahead Bridge without…erm, censure.”

Alexandra was at full attention now.

“We have the bridge piece,” Blinky continued, pushing a desk away from the wall and peering through the bookshelves behind it. “In which case we have littleto worry about the bridge actually being completed whilst we formulate a plan, however! We cannot rely upon our one advantage, especially now that Trollmarket has proven itself to be not as invulnerable as we would have hoped.”

“The best course of action would be to steal the entire bridge, I should think,” said Alexandra. “Or find a way to truly destroy it. I can go back to the Void and ask if there’s anything to be done there.”

“A reasonable idea, Master Alexandra, but consider: if the bridge were able to be destroyed in any way, why was it not?”
Alex scratched her chin with her pencil, chewing the metal nub off of the end. “They could have wanted to be able to open it eventually,” she said quietly. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH both looked at her in surprise. She shrugged and leaned over her notebook, staring frankly at Blinky. “There’s no Trollhunting job without Gunmar and his army, is there? That’s what this whole job is about. Not everybody is as noble as you, Blinky.”

“…Succinct, but not wholy accurate,” said Blinky slowly, hands wavering over a pile of crumbling scrolls. “The Trollhunter ‘job’ slightly predates Gunmar’s reign; it was appointed as a way to battle the Gumm-Gumms, who were ruled by Orlagk the Oppressor at the time. Even with Gunmar dead, the title of Trollhunter would still be used for the warrior most capable of protecting both worlds, for even after Gunmar’s death there will still be danger, still be threats, do you see?”
Alex nibbled on her pencil and nodded. “And destroying the Killahead Bridge will not destroy the cracks between our dimension and the Darklands; things will always be able to get through.”

“And just like Orlagk, when one leader falls, another will rise in his place.”

So much for the easy way out.

Alexandra lay back down on a pile of books, playing with the amulet in one hand.

“Then all we can do is try to prevent the inevitable for as long as possible,” she murmured, “and reduce Gunmar’s armies as much as we can.”

“Indeed. You said that you had a tentative alliance with the Changeling you spoke with, did you not?”

Alex huffed; Stricklander only allied himself for however long he felt it necessary, and breaking promises was like snapping a string of spider silk to a Changeling.

“For the gaggletack and Anstramonstrum crystal only. I merely gave them something to think about.”

“An unusual gesture,” Blinky said, quietly and with a hint of question.

Alexandra stayed silent, staring up at the carved ceiling as she thought.

This might not even end with me, she contemplated. She could die the next day, or a century from now. Gunmar’s defeat may come at the hand of the next Trollhunter, or never at all. She was merely the next name in a long list, the pen hovering in place for when the time came to cross her off and write the new name down.

I have a lot to do if I’m going to get anything done.

“I don’t want to alienate an entire people,” she said again, listening absently as Blinky sorted through books in the very back of the room. “They didn’t choose their ways; they didn’t choose which side they were taken in to. It wouldn’t be right for me to protect the troll and human worlds if I did not also protect those in between the two.”

“One would think that the Changelings have already chosen their sides,” said Blinky delicately. “As changeable as they may be, they have chosen Gunmar.”

“They’re brainwashed into a cult of violence and subjugation,” Alexandra said heavily. “They can break from that. We’ve already heard one story of it.”
Behind Alex, AAARRRGGHH rumbled uneasily. Blinky paused from his search to glance at his friend, before resuming his perusal of the bowels of his library.

“Blinky, what the hell are you even looking for,” Alex said, raising her head just enough to look at him over the top of her chest. Blinky shoved a pile of books to a different area of floor and started to dig through them.

“I am looking for information on the bridge, Master Alexandra,” he said, finally coming up with a heavy blue volume. “And first-hand accounts are always the best. Especially when written by yours truly!”

Blinky set the book down with a THUD; the spine crackled and dust rose from the pages as he opened the tome. AAARRRGGHH had to duck his head to sneeze and Alex blinked dust from her eyes as she rose and sat at the table.

“How long as it been since that book’s been used?”
“A few centuries, at least,” Blinky said distractedly, searching through the delicate pages. “I haven’t needed this sort of information since I got wind of a conspiracy two hundred and, oh, perhaps forty years…ago…”

He trailed off, looking at the table with distant eyes. Alex was about to ask what was wrong when he SNAPPED the book shut, releasing another cloud of itching dust.

“Blinky what the sh*t,” Alexandra coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. AAARRRGGHH sneezed mightily.

AAARRRGGHH sneezed.

He sneezed.

Trolls couldn’t sneeze.

But AAARRRGGHH sneezed.

They didn’t have a gaggletack in the room and hadn’t AAARRRGGHH been tested already? He’d held the thing, tested other trolls with it – there was no way…

Blinky set down the book and hunched over, placing two hands against his stomach.

“Excuse me, dear friends,” he said in a pinched voice, “but my stomach seems to be giving me grief. I shall return in just a few minutes!”
And then he left, abandoning Alexandra with a huge troll who could sneeze. Alexandra slowly edged around the table, carefully opening the book again and looking through it.

“I hope you didn’t eat whatever got him,” she murmured, trying to stall for time while Blinky hopefully fetched a gaggletack. AAARRRGGHH rumbled in response, knuckling through the crowded library to look at the book.

“Bridge,” he said thickly. “Not again.”
“It won’t happen again,” Alex assured, still not certain if she were talking to AAARRRGGHH or a Changeling. “We won’t let it happen.”

“Still new at Trollhunting,” he said.

“Don’t worry, big guy,” Alex replied, smirking at him as she summoned her sword and leaned on it. “I’ve got myself covered.”

AAARRRGGHH…looked her up and down.

“See that,” he said, with the hint of a smile. Alexandra didn’t stumble, but it was a very near miss.

What. What?

AAARRRGGHH did not flirt, which was exactly why Alex had avoided flirting with him for the most part, since it would garner neither amusem*nt nor favor. There was no reason to waste time flirting with someone if it wasn’t going to get her anywhere. And AAARRRGGHH did not look at her with interest. It was like a f*cking glitch in the Matrix.

Blinky came back through the doorway with three arms full of food, the fourth hidden behind his back.

“Nothing like a bout of bad stomach to make one hungry again,” he said with a nervous laugh. “AAARRRGGHH, my fine fellow? A spot of lunch?”
He pressed a number of metal scraps and plastics into AAARRRGGHH’s arms, and when the larger troll happily began eating Blinky drew forth his hidden arm and gently tapped AAARRRGGHH with the gaggletack.

Nothing happened, and AAARRRGGHH didn’t seem to notice. Blinky slipped the totem into a pocket and made his way to the table, setting down the rest of his bounties and looking at Alex with confusion. She shrugged. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t Changelings.

As they pored over the book, the softest breeze of breath over the top of her head made her shiver. She braced her hands on the table and leaned over the book, which was open to a depiction of various trolls who had died in the battle.

“You may ask our formal Trollhunters for ideas,” Blinky said, getting them back on track, “while I study this account. There is, I know, much that I have willed forgotten about that battle.”

Alexandra took the dismissal for what it was, knowing that Blinky would want to examine AAARRRGGHH by himself. It occurred to her as she gathered half the foodstuffs she’d bought and headed back to Draal’s room that Blinky probably would not want an audience when he went over the Battle of Killahead with his companion. By all accounts it was an exceedingly unpleasant fight, with immense casualties on both sides. The battle was a particularly significant one for Alexandra’s two trainers, since AAARRRGGHH switched sides during that fight and Blinky lost his brother. An audience for their reminiscing would not be welcome.

Before going to the Forge there were a few things she wanted to get from Kanjigar’s quarters and from Draal himself, who had probably been present at the battle or heard accounts from his father. Shifting the purloined junk in her arms, her thoughts of Draal turned darker and angry.

If Draal was acting funny too, she’d slam him. The one person in her life that she currently trusted, enough to Change in front of him, enough to talk with him, enough to just be - if that was gone, if that was ruined…

The door opened when she kicked it, cats scattering everywhere. She set the food down on the desk, knocking over the various books and items Draal had acquired and placed there.

The larger troll, eating his own lunch in bed, startled as Alex stomped up to him and grabbed him by the shoulder, making him stumble as she pulled him close.

“Trollhunter, what – “
Alex abruptly found herself at a loss for words. He truly looked so surprised, staring at her as she huffed in his face.

They stood there for a moment, breathing in the other’s presence, until Alex watched his eyes and saw nothing but confusion.

She let go of his shoulder and backed off.

“Um. Is there something wrong - ?”
“No,” she said, backing away another step. “Not with you. But – “
She stopped, trying to find the words. Working with someone wasn’t usually her deal.

But Draal knew everything. Everything. And she knew – if it came down to it – that she would be willing to take chances with him.

It was a Changeling rule to trust no one.

Screw it.

“Have you noticed Blinky or AAARRRGGHH acting strangely? At all?”

He considered it for a moment and slowly nodded.

“Perhaps a little. Do you believe they may be hiding something from us?”
A cat rubbed up against her leg and she sat down on the nest, scratching behind its ears with one hand.

“I don’t think so,” she murmured. “They’re just strange. Do you know AAARRRGGHH tried to flirt with me just now?”
Draal’s brown furrowed.

“That is…”
“Extremely unlike him, I know. He nearly charged me for flirting with Blinky one time. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t like that.”

“Maybe we should check on the bridge piece, just in case,” said Draal; Alex turned to him so fast her neck cracked.

“You think they’re working for Bular?”
“I do not know what to think,” Draal said loudly, waving his hands through the air. “But it could not hurt to check. And I believe that they are perhaps suspicious of you, Alexandra.”

The use of her actual name was what startled her the most, and she felt herself still.

“What do you mean?”

“Blinkous came in here not long ago, asking for the gaggletack I had taken from him. He looked so unnerved, I guessed that he was after you with it.”
Alexandra shook her head, staring unseeing at the floor.

“No,” she said softly, “he was after AAARRRGGHH. We both thought he…was a little bit off…”
“Oh,” said Draal slowly. “Then I made a mistake in giving him a false gaggletack?”
Alex looked up at Draal sharply. “What?”
“The gnome living in your bathroom was in possession of one, I had to trade one of my belts for it. I assume it was the one you used to trick Blinky before?”
Alexandra nodded but did not otherwise respond. The gaggletack didn’t work on AAARRRGGHH because it was a fake, but would the real one have worked anyway? It was AAARRRGGHH. AAARRRGGHH had held the real thing, used it – there was no damn way.

This is so damn messed up.

“I can’t process this right now. Let’s just go and ask them.”

Draal looked down at the half-finished lunch in his lap.

“Now?”
“Yes, now,” Alex said, donning her armor and pulling him out of bed. “We need to confront them directly, while he’s still being weird.”
“I would not expect a direct approach to be a Changeling’s way.”
“It’s not,” Alexandra replied, pulling him out of the room and through the quiet hallways. “Which is why direct confrontation is the best way to do it, otherwise we’ll keep going in circles and circles of lies and secrecy.”
Draal muttered something like you are the expert, his words muffled by the last bite of lunch he’d shoved into his mouth.

Yes, I damn well am.

When they arrived at the library they found it missing one occupant. Blinky looked up from the book he was studying and smiled grimly at them.

“Draal; good to see you recovered. Master Alexandra I hope you do not mind, but AAARRRGGHH excused himself several minutes into our recounting of the battle; the memory of it became rather overwhelming. I quite understand the feeling.”

Alexandra nodded, but gave Draal a gentle nudge to the abdomen. He briefly touched a hand to her arm and then left, heading off toward AAARRRGGHH’s rooms to investigate.

Alexandra settled back down in the library, gathering up the notebook and half-eaten pencil she’d left behind.

“Before we continue with our plans on the bridge, I’d really like to discuss some further security measures. The Isarnan community gave me a few ideas about runes and charms. They didn’t have much in the way of physical protections, but nothing dark or Fae could enter through the spells they had placed around the Heartstone.”

“It is certainly worth the research,” Blinky said, “but I would hesitate to up security much further. The economics of Trollmarket depend on its travelers and pilgrims, and already we have bottlenecked the entrances.”

“I’m not asking for pat-downs and interrogations; I’m just asking if there are any charms or spells for that sort of thing. There’s no such thing as being too cautious,” Alexandra said, and her eyes pointedly lifted to the bookshelf where hid the stolen piece of Killahead Bridge.

Blinky followed her gaze and softly trailed his fingers across the shelves, pressing aside the books until he uncovered the little wood and iron box. The piece of stone within clunked against the sides.

“There are several protection spells that can be made with the Heartstone itself, or pieces of it like the horngazels. Those would be best, in exchange for imported charms or homemade totems. A protective spell for Heartstone Trollmarket should come from the Heartstone.”

His stony fingers scraped softly against the bridge piece as he lifted it out of the box, turning it this way and that to examine the carved lines on one side. Apparently satisfied, Blinky put the stone back in its box, handing it to Alexandra when she gestured for it.

“Are we quite sure that its safe here,” she murmured, lightly clawing the wooden sides of the container. It opened, for once.

“Nobody has stolen from this library since its beginning, and it will remain that way. My library is completely open and accessible, making thievery unnecessary. More to the point, nobody knows the bridge piece is even here to steal.”

“I still think we should move it somewhere else, somewhere not so public,” Alexandra said, handing him the box back.

“Perhaps some protective runes as well. For this and the entrances and exits.”

Blinky had a mischievous glint in his eye as he played with the box and then put it back on the shelf.

“Well,” he rumbled quietly. “It’s a moot point by now. Every horngazel has been recovered, and our security is tighter than ever.”

“True,” Alex said, reaching past him to cover the box in its hiding space, very aware of the open door behind them. “But we should research just in case. I would rather not have to worry about Bular himself invading Trollmarket, on top of everything else.”

Blinky turned around and crossed his arms, glancing at her sideways.

“You don’t believe you’re overworking yourself, do you? Do not think that I haven’t noticed your lack of care toward your own wellbeing.”

“What, you’re watching me, Blinky?” Alex flirted half-heartedly, just to bother him.

Instead of grimacing as he usually did, Blinky smiled.

“As your trainer, naturally,” he said. “Your eyesight may be impaired but I assure you that my eyes miss nothing.”
What the f*ck, what the f*ck? Blinky too?!

Alex called his bluff and turned into him, using her height to stare him down.

“I could name a few things,” she said, deciding to test this odd mood further. To her immense shock Blinky pushed himself off of the bookshelf and moved to her front, pressing her backward until leather book-spines dug into her shoulder-blades. He didn’t touch her, just barely, but he leaned close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, and chills ran down her back.

I’ll kill him if I have to.

“Then you underestimate the weight of my glare,” Blinky said at length, four eyes locked on hers while the other two roamed excessively. Two upper arms rose to grasp against the shelves, blocking her in. Despite being quite taller than him Alex was extremely unnerved by the unexpected change in demeanor. His abrupt shift made him suddenly unpredictable. Her body felt too-warm and chilled at the same time. Her breath shallowed and quickened, and the back of her neck prickled.

He would be easier to kill if he wasn’t expecting it, and Alex found herself responding on automatic.

“Perhaps I like it,” she purred, and smiled down at him. “But we still have work to do.”

“It can wait,” he said.

One hand landed on her hip-bone and she slammed her fist underneath Blinky’s chin, lifting him off of the ground.

But the troll who landed was not the one she punched. His body shivered, and then Changed.

Bular crouched from where Blinky landed, and loomed over her like an immense shadow.

He gingerly licked the lip Alex had bloodied; her back and her limbs shivered with cold terror. “You have a heavy fist for one so light-handed,” he said.

“What the f*ck are you?”

Not-Bular grinned, picking himself up with deadly grace.

“I am not surprised to find that you don’t know me,” he said, an odd Germanic tinge to Bular’s hostile timbre. “We have been unable to locate you, after all.”
The Janus Order.

He’s from the Janus Order!

“I wouldn’t expect some idiotic Changelings to have good record-keeping,” Alex muttered, wildly looking around the room for something to help her. If she summoned the armor now he would attack immediately. She had to keep him talking, had to find a way to get him down with minimal damage. Someone who could Change at random could destroy half of Trollmarket if set loose.

“But then I recalled something from a very long time ago,” Not-Bular continued, very slowly beginning to advance across the room. He looked so alien, so utterly out of place in the warm, crowded library. And there was nothing to use as a weapon. She couldn’t armor up, she was getting backed into a corner. Armor or no armor, she couldn’t fight him like this.

“I remembered a little Changeling who always stayed in the back of the meeting, ja? She took her assignments and left, never spoke. I never saw her monströs form, but I remember those eyes, always looking for a way out.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but this old friend of yours isn’t me,” Alex muttered, scooting as slowly as she could around the end of a table. They were nearing the side wall, and she was running out of space. Her heart thudded at a strange quick pace to her achingly slow feet.

Not-Bular gave a dark, throaty laugh.

“No, you see,” he said, and he started to grin at her. “This freund of mine died many years ago. We always check. But I started to do a little digging and fortunately for me, I have several contacts in the Eastern coastline, and found the hospital records for the day my dear freund perished.”

If Alexandra’s breathing got any shallower, she would pass out; her claws dug into the table in front of her but her legs were shaking so much it hardly mattered. Black was seeping into the edges of her eyes and her chest felt too tight, too tight to breathe and she couldn’t move and he kept looming over her, he kept talking and talking and talking and talking about this –

“Cardiopulmonary resuscitation,” Not-Bular said, taking his time to feel the words on his tongue. “Only just beginning to become widespread, but I think it served you well, did it not, Verity?”
Alexandra lost her grip on the table and went down, feeling as if she were swimming through deep water. The armor materialized around her body the moment Not-Bular’s fist hit her side, and although she went flying she at least didn’t die. The jarring pain forced her into some of her senses; her whole body shook and she still couldn’t breathe, but at least her shaking hands could hold a sword. Not-Bular advanced as Alexandra tumbled to the ground but she rolled toward him and slashed with sword and claw, catching him on the legs and underarms before she scrambled to her feet and booked it. He roared in fury and stomped after her, narrowly missing her with a giant fist that instead smashed a shelf of books into pieces. Loose leaves and pages flurried around the room and Alexandra got a solid hit to his face in the mess and confusion and Not-Bular went down.

His father rose in his stead.

Gunmar… was terrifying. An immense shadow of power and stone, pulsing with energy and rage, but in the split-second after the moment of sheer panic Alexandra felt only anger.

How dare this asshole invade her home, impersonate the people she was actually trying to trust, bring up ALL HER sh*t and then try and attack her with the scariest troll imaginable? What a f*cking dick!

It took two seconds for her to remind herself that although he looked like Gunmar, he wasn’t actually Gunmar, because although he fought with strength and stolen agility, he didn’t have Gunmar’s skill and Alexandra still could wound him, and he bled like any other troll.

Not-Gunmar fell back when she sliced open his chest, and he turned into Draal.

“Trollhunter!” he said, reaching to her with pleading eyes. “Please! You can’t hurt me, can you?”
His accent wasn’t quite right – hah! that’s why! – and Alex snarled as she pounced on him.

“YOU WANT TO BET?” she roared, smashing two fists into his fake blue face. She’d dealt with this sh*t with the wendigo, no thank you, she was not going to deal with it again! Not-Draal tried to slap her away but her claws dug deep into his face, gauging into his eyes and his cheeks and he screamed in pain, finally kneeing her in the abdomen and sending her to smack against the ceiling. She came down swinging her sword, and half of a horn was loped off as he ran.

Her fingers burned with energy, melting the stone beneath her claws before she pushed up off of the ground and followed him.

He may have been able to blend in, but his wounds remained on whatever body he took, and Alexandra followed the blood on the ground, splashed against the stalls and the crystals and the trolls he ran into.

Several of the market-goers shouted in alarm at the sight of the Trollhunter fiercely pursuing a bleeding, panicked Draal, but Alexandra ignored the angry yells, jumping on top of a pile of broken televisions. She drove herself forward too forcefully to pay heed to the unstable surfaces beneath her feet, and leapt from the top of the pile, landing on top of Not-Draal’s back hard enough to bruise her unarmored joints. They went down in a graceless heap but Not-Draal still had Draal’s strength, and Alexandra was yanked up as the Changeling scrambled to his feet, Alex still grasping his dorsal crystals. Her shin banged painfully into a fallen tv and she was heavily battered for the first few feet as he ran, but his crystal protrusions offered excellent handholds and she pulled herself up and over his head, grabbing his horns on the way down and throwing him forward into a market stall.

He Changed, and Not-Vendel got up and backhanded her.

One of the trolls in the growing crowd helped brush debris away from Alexandra and it turned her attention briefly to the public watching them. Her breath came in coarse, wet gasps as her chest ached with old forgotten pains; the cries of the crowd seemed to come as if through water to her.

“The Trollhunter is attacking Vendel!”
“No, you fool, didn’t you see him change? It’s some sort of trick – “
“It’s a Changeling,” Alex yelled, slashing at Not-Vendel with her sword and two broken poles from the stall. The trolls gasped in horror and yelled in anger, but Alex didn’t have time to listen. Not-Vendel charged her way, throwing his arms around her torso even as she stabbed him in the shoulder, and they hit the ground hard, two fists nearly the size of her face pounding against her head. She bit one as it landed in her teeth and shoved him away, gouging another line across his torso with a broken pole. Not-Vendel stumbled away from her when she tried to claw him again, and this time when he turned, he turned into a human child.

Alexandra paused with her arm raised, even as her eye swelled and her ribs ached; she knew it wasn’t a child, she knew it was a trick, but her sword arm took on a heavier weight than she had ever held before. The tearful, crying not-child jumped of the way just before the sword came down on his head, and then shrank into a troll-child, sobbing and whimpering at her with fear. The crowd watching the fight began to murmur harder, several of them speaking with alarm.

Could she kill something that looked like a kid?! In front of all these people? Would they understand?!

The Changeling knew he had found her weakness, and shrank down once more, although the Change this time seemed harder for him. He was now nothing more than a tiny human baby, naked and blood-streaked on the dirty stone floor. Alexandra’s anger grew, but her sword arm shivered. She was seeing things that she didn’t want to remember, and her anger and disgust was only barely enough to push it back.

Please don’t make me kill a baby. I can’t do this f*cking job.

The baby hiccupped and began to cry, looking fearfully at the trolls surrounding it. One of the crowd started forward to pick it up.

“Don’t touch it!” Alex yelled, halting the troll in his tracks. “It’s still a Changeling. It’s still dangerous.”

It’s a f*cking baby

She couldn’t sweat like a human could, not in this form, but her skin felt cold and prickly, too tight around her forehead and neck and collar.

The not-baby screamed and its form shivered as Alex’s shaking sword missed the chest and hit the arm, almost slicing the tiny limb right off. Light wavered from the Changeling as it struggled with its form, shifting rapidly like some Lovecraftian demon, fleeing from her in the skin of a middle-aged man, an elderly woman, a rotund male troll.

Blinky – the real Blinky – only just cleared the edge of the crowd when the Changeling pounced on him, partially changing again into Bular as he knocked down the troll and tore at his pockets. Blinky yelped in horror as he hit at the Changeling but the damn thing was already running again, the yellow glow of a horngazel in his hand. Alex ran past Blinky without giving an explanation, leaving him bloody and shocked on the floor.

Gore splashed from the Changeling’s ruined arm as he scrambled through Trollmarket and Alex knew she had to stay on her feet, knew she had to follow, knew she had to either kill him or see him driven out. But he knew her. He knew her.

The quaking Changeling was fast despite his injuries, and when he reached the crystal staircase Alexandra nearly screamed in rage, hurtling herself after him. He could hop up the crystals easier than she could and she was sorely tempted to just Change then and there for the advantage of her longer human legs, and screw everybody else; she wanted this bastard dead! A smear of blood made her slip down, aggravating her banged shin again as she landed two crystals down.

She hauled herself up with her arms and launched back up the staircase, hearing gasps of pain and desperation echo across the stone. The Changeling had partially finished drawing the portal when Alex threw her sword into his back, piercing the hipbone and upper buttock. He went down with a yell and Alex went down with him, bodily tackling him even as he fell. His features expanded, distorted, shifted between a human man’s and her own scarred blue face, and half-formed claws raked at her exposed chin and hands even as her own fingers dug into his skin and burned him with the stench of scorched copper and stone.

He went down slow, and he went down ugly, screaming bloody murder the entire time until Alexandra’s ears rang with a dozen agonized voices, and when he finally stopped moving she could do no more than fall off of his body and shake to pieces on the floor.

Chapter 19

Chapter Text

*Mentions of miscarriage, child death/abuse, bloody violence, and drug abuse*

The weeds keep multiplying in our garden, which is our mind ruled by fear. Rip them out and call them by name.

Sylvia Browne

The shaking grey was punctuated with flashes of light, tingling edges of darkness at the corners of the eye. High, tinny ringing echoed through it, drowning out the softer thump-thump-thump-thump that pressed and stretched, quickened with each breath. The warmth of the face contrasted the chills down the spine, the ice in the chest that shrank the lungs and shook the limbs. The air smelled sour with bile and septic, tinged with sterile metal and the hot, nauseatingly heavy taste of blood. It was overwhelming; the pounding noise, the hot-cold-hot, the reeling of the head, the screams of the wounded and the sirens…

Hard arms, warm and firm, wrapped around her shoulders, but she could only shake in the darkness, unable to catch her breath against the cold stone of the floor. Her fingers were tacky against her skin and smelled of singed blood.

The woman’s strong fingers plunged into the heavy woven sack, digging into the flour within and dropping the handfuls down in the trough with a soft thud. She always loved that part, the drawing of the flour. Her hands, half the size of Mother’s, were still too small to draw the flour, but she could mix and knead, could watch the sun as the house filled with the smell of rising dough. She and her mother would work on their sewing while waiting for the dough to rise, Verity on a sampler while Mother mended a pair of breeches or hose. She loved the repetition; the somber, steady pattern of flowers and lines slowly emerging from the fabric. Her mother’s stomach was swelling as the bread did, but – just after the first rise – it too would be punched down, deflated and shrunk until it was time for it to swell again.

Three different voices murmured through the pounding of her head and her heart but their voices were like howls of wolves in the fog, one indiscernible from the other, too close and too far. Someone tried to lift her and she shrank back, something wordless falling from her gasping mouth. She hit a cooling body, and fell forward and vomited.

The long, browned fingers of her first husband trailed across the embroidery in her lap, lifting a piece of hair that had fallen across her face. She was pretending to be asleep, having truly fallen asleep beside the fire but awakened as soon as she’d smelled him approaching. She lied to him every morning when he kissed her on the cheek and she replied that she loved him, but she did love moments like these, when he was finished with his day and first came home. Everything was always rushing for him; a rush to build a house, a rush to expand the community, a rush to fix the barn before the winter, a rush to fix the ships. Verity made herself an ideal wife and community member, good at brewing and baking and sewing, and out of all her suitors she had chosen Aeron because he mainly left her alone. In eight years or so she would need to either divorce him or leave him, move to a different village before anyone noticed that she wasn’t ageing like she was supposed to…

The voices were much softer now, one especially close. The piercing blue and yellow lights dimmed as something moved in front of her, but nothing touched her. She was boxed against a wall, covered by a vast, looming presence, and its voice mumbled about everything and nothing.

Verity pulled Ignatious’s body through the reeds of a riverbank in Delaware, mud staining her boots and the knees and hem of her dress as blood stained her hands and arms, shrubs and rushes dripping with midnight dew gently scratching her face and catching her hair. She hadn’t wanted, truly had not wanted to kill him, but he’d recognized her, seen her in the arms of her third husband, waved to her with a flash of golden eyes. Ignatious had mercy on her in the Darklands; they were younglings together, competing with each other while waiting for assignment. She’d been there for half the time he had, though time was nearly meaningless in the twisting labyrinth of caverns and tunnels, so cold and so different than her home. Her body had ached as it fought itself and the magics coursing through it, and although she was strong she was also afraid. Ignatious battled and bested her, but did not kill her, as most of them were wont to do. A hundred and fifty years later, she saw him again. She had stopped coming to the meetings three years before, had moved to an entirely different state with intentions of travelling out west, and he’d still found her. She could not be found, not again. She would not be taken.

Her body felt heavy, stiffer, and she realized that she was still wearing her armor. The shining surface was marked with dark smears and splatters, and Alexandra dismissed it with a thought, though the lack of it made her feel naked and exposed.

The city above her was nothing but noise and light shining through grates and potholes, voices and debris dripping from the roof above her as droplets of stinking water fell on her skin, but she was too flushed and hot to care. Every droplet felt like a pin of acid on her naked skin, and she scratched and screamed and slid through the muck on the concrete floors. She’d shot and sniffed and consumed anything that had been offered or left out in front of her, and she knew that if she’d been human she’d be dead, but honestly, she almost felt like it would be preferable to the spinning light inside of her head and the jangling noises inside her mouth, the aching of her teeth and her fingernails. She wanted water; she wanted her drugs; she wanted something to tear her teeth through; she wanted the subway to hurry up and find its way to her section of tunnel. She was angry and scared and numb and all she could do was wait until she no longer felt like an electrified corpse…

“…and one of the cats tried to eat the gnome again, the largish orange one with stripes. The gnome punched it on the nose, which started the fight, and now the gnome is living underneath the nest; I almost crushed the thing this morning. I still do not understand why you keep it, but it is your gnome and I shall not harm it willingly…”

The little thing wriggled and mussed his face against the blanket she’d quilted for him, kicking at her chest with tiny feet. She liked to make faces at him and watch him smile, his broad toothless mouth gumming at one of her fingers. They’d moved to Missouri when Philip handed her the child of the carpenter’s daughter, who had died bearing his baby. She – calling herself Leta, at the time – knew how young the girl was, her tiny body swelling unnaturally while Leta treated the girl’s morning sicknesses and pretended that she didn’t know her own husband had applied himself to the girl. Leta lost him in an accident of her own design two months later once they were settled into their house, and the baby she’d named Justice died six years later of cholera. But for six years the child had been hers, making bread with her in their tiny kitchen, listening to the wolves through the open window, asking why he didn’t have any brothers or sisters…

She reached out with a numb hand and grabbed at the broad shoulder in front of her, drawing it to her as it leaned to pick her up. She was more exhausted than she ever remembered feeling, cried out and left to dry in salt and bloodstains. Draal was as steady as ever, a solid blue mountain that she could tremble against without fearing a stab to the back. To the side she could smell AAARRRGGHH and Blinky, but she really wasn’t sure if she was up to facing them. Whatever that Changeling had been, it and its ability to use multiple forms had scared the sh*t out of her. Thinking about it rolled her stomach again and she unthinkingly summoned her armor.

Draal noticed her watching them and slipped a hand into a pocket of his belt. Though it did not withdraw, Alexandra’s attention was pulled to it, and she felt the tinny hum of the real gaggletack. Draal, she knew, was safe. Draal was always safe.

At her nod he passed the totem to the trolls behind him, who both handled it with solemn faces.

“When you are ready, Master Alexandra, we truly would welcome an explanation. After you are recovered, of course,” Blinky said, hastily stepping backward when Draal glared at him. Alexandra warmed at the tiny protective gesture. She tapped on his arm, and he helped her to stand, though as soon as she did she felt like sinking right back on to the floor.

“I’ve got bandages in my room,” she said hoarsely, and slowly started the descent down the bloodstained staircase, her hand gripped to Draal’s the whole way. Her re-injured shoulder was steadily bleeding; she could feel it pooling under her armor and heard soft pip pip pips fall on the floor as they walked. Her top two eyes were both swelling; her nose was stinging; her mouth sore and tasting of metal.

He’d clawed her neck and it too was bleeding; he’d bitten her arm.

He’d known her.

If she could keep categorizing, if she could keep walking, she’d be okay.

Her back was sore from when she’d been thrown into the ceiling of the library. Two of her claws were torn. Her knuckles were scraped. Her ankle twinged from when she’d fallen on the stack of broken televisions, but it wasn’t sprained. Her chest and throat and head all hurt from the exertion and from crying.

One foot in front of the other, and again and again until she fell against her doorway.

Draal was the one to actually push the door open, hurrying them all inside before shutting it in the faces of the few trolls watching from the hallway. The room smelled more of her now than of Kanjigar; it was still lit by the crystal lamps she’d left on earlier. Alexandra wasn’t sure if it was morning or evening now and honestly, it really did not matter. She’d been battered and beat and injured nearly every day of every month since Kanjigar had broken into her apartment and shoved the amulet at her, and all she wanted was a nice, long sleep, preferably one where she didn’t have to adjust her position every so often to account for her injuries.

Alexandra lay down on the book- and scroll-strewn nest and waited for her dream to become a reality. Draal rummaged around until he found her stock of herbs and crystals, while AAARRRGGHH settled himself in a corner and Blinky ran his hands over the texts she had left about, occasionally inserting a bookmark between the open pages of a tome and closing it gently.

I’ve been a librarian several times, Alexandra thought as Draal started dabbing at her shoulder. I always sucked at it.

“I don’t know who he was,” she mumbled, just quietly enough for Draal to understand. “I didn’t know him.”

“But he knew you?”
Blinky shifted, his hand lingering over a stone-bound journal. Draal was not very quiet. Alexandra mmm’d.

“This creature – this Changeling,” Blinky said, shelving a book with a glance at the pair. “I have never heard of a Changeling who could change into multiple forms.”
“Neither have I,” Alex said. She raised her head so that Draal could fix her nose and put a cold crystal against her three remaining eyes. “There’s nothing in here about one.”

“Then they are either exceedingly rare, or exceedingly good at their métier,” Blinky replied. “I admit – seeing a strange troll change into Bular before attacking me was rather shaking.”

Alex pulled herself up halfway to look at him; she’d completely forgotten the incident.
“Are you hurt?”
“No, Master Alexandra, merely startled. You, on the other hand – “

His hand hovered over her injured face and she leaned backward immediately, flinching involuntarily like a struck dog. After a brief, startled pause, Blinky apologized and retreated.

“He changed into you,” Alexandra said, wanting to defend her action but also wanting to explain. “Not during the fight, but before. I…sh*t, probably a few times before…”
“I do not follow,” Blinky said, kneeling in front of her. “I have been impersonated? Within the past few days?”

Alex wasn’t listening. AAARRRGGHH’s behavior in the library, Blinky’s flirtations. None of them were real.

“Have either of you noticed the other acting oddly? Since the battle, I guess. Any changes of behavior, or voice, or actions? Anything?”
Blinky glanced quickly over at AAARRRGGHH, who glanced back with furrowed brows.

“I…some words were said, I do not know if – “
“Talked about bridge, battle,” AAARRRGGHH said suddenly, stepping further into the room. “Bad memories, angry words. Wasn’t you?”
Blinky moved forward and pressed his hands against AAARRRGGHH’s.

“My friend, I do not know what was said to you, only that it was not from my lips. Are you hurt?”
AAARRRGGHH exhaled heavily, his whole body settling, the shoulders relaxing, the hands loosening.

“Not from you. Good. Blinky did not hurt,” he rumbled. Alex waved a hand at him.

“I suppose that wasn’t you in the library, then? Earlier today, when we were talking about the bridge?”
AAARRRGGHH shook his head.

“With Vendel all day. Not seen Alexandra, not until fight.”

“Then if that was the Changeling, why did the gaggletack not work,” Blinky exclaimed, squeezing AAARRRGGHH’s huge hands before stomping back and forth across the room. “We knew something was wrong, the accursed creature sneezed for Gorgus’s sake, but the totem failed to reveal it! How could it have not worked?”
Beside Alex, Draal softly sank onto the bed, hiding his face in his hands. Alex’s stomach dropped as well.

This was my fault.

Draal had given Blinky the fake gaggletack to protect her. Her nature, her dishonesty, her need for secrecy had nearly cost them severely. How many other Changelings may still be hiding in Trollmarket? How many had handled the fake gaggletack, how much had Alexandra missed in her desperate need to keep her secrets?

“…Blasted thing must be faulty,” Blinky was still muttering, worrying with his hands as he paced. “We’ve got to find a way to foolproof these things and test them with certainty…”

There was no way to make an excuse for this, so Alexandra let him ramble until another instance occurred to her.

“AAARRRGGHH, when Draal and I returned from our mission, in the library – were you there? When I released the wendigo spirit?”

The gigantic troll shook his head, and Blinky stopped in his tracks.

“That was not you? But – old friend – I did not even notice…”

“He’d been watching you,” Alexandra said. “Both of you, together. Close enough to mimic your habits and interactions perfectly, that’s how he got away with it. That’s how he knew about our plans; that’s how he knew about the bridge piece.”
Blinky’s head shot around as he jumped in surprise.

“The bridge piece! Is it – “
“It’s still there, Blinky, he didn’t move it. He knew where it was, though, I saw him take it out.”
All of the color drained from Blinky’s face, leaving it an ashen blue. He sank down to his haunches as AAARRRGGHH hovered over him worryingly, his hands over his head as he moaned. Alexandra tried to move off the bed before her injuries told her nope, nope, sit the f*ck back down.

“Blinky, what…?”

“I nearly ruined it all,” Blinky moaned, shaking his head over and over. His large companion hummed uncertainly, rubbing his hands over Blinky’s arched back.

“Stone safe, still in library,” AAARRRGGHH mumbled, to no avail.
“I could have doomed us all,” the smaller troll continued to wail. Alexandra, unable to get her body to cooperate, smacked Draal on the arm and he rose to his feet, crouching before Blinky and gently removing the troll’s hands from around his face.

“Blinky, what are you talking about?”

“The box,” Blinky whispered. “I changed the box.”

“What?”

“It was spelled against Changelings,” he continued, his voice hoarse and desperate. “I exchanged it for a facsimile, a copy, an unenchanted replica. Any troll or Changeling could open it with ease.”
Draal stared at him in disbelief, and Alexandra in horror.

“Why the hell would you change the box?” she whispered.

No wonder I couldn’t open the f*cking, f*cking thing! Why the f*ck did he change it out?!

Blinky briefly glanced at AAARRRGGHH, who stood a little straighter, and then he clasped his hands in front of him and breathed deeply.

“I did not want you to be unable to open the box, Master Alexandra, should the need arise,” Blinky said, his every word pounding into Alex’s ears like the sea against a rocky shore. “If anyone should have seen you unable to open it, there would have been panic.”
“It was just fiddly,” Alex said on rote.

He knows.

He knows.

Blinky sighed and glanced at her with something akin to regret.

“Master Alexandra, there is no use in farce. We learned the truth over a month ago.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said with deathly calm. Her heart felt like it was being stepped on. Her whole body was filled with ice. He knew, he knew, heknewheknewheknew he KNEW

“You are a Changeling, and that is…alright,” Blinky said with a dreadful note of finality. “You see, I have been reading this book about accepting young humans who are in ‘closets’ and I’ve found it quite applicable in this situation – “
“You’re accusing me of being a Changeling again?”

Alexandra’s head was roaring, her hear pounding, but she actually wasn’t feeling particularly panicked. Something in her noticed that nobody was shouting, waving a weapon, or threatening her. It was the calmest panic she’d ever been in.

“Please desist with the pretense, Master Alexandra, I am being perfectly serious right now.”
“Changeling,” AAARRRGGHH said, still kneeling over Blinky; when Alex turned to look at him he gazed back with perfect seriousness; the eyes of a steady general in the face of a friend. “Amulet chose you. No problem now.”

“Indeed,” Blinky said. “My previous reaction to the possibility was, I admit, quite horrible and I apologize for my behavior. You are our Trollhunter, for good or for ill. I do not think that Merlin’s Champion would be chosen as someone who would betray us all to Gunmar, and therefore – Changeling or not – you have the support of AAARRRGGHH and myself.”

“And me.”
Draal turned around and faced Alexandra, his top-heavy body looming over where she sat.

“I have made mistakes in the past, regarding your kind. I should be proud now to fight by your side, for good or for ill. We have bled together; I would have it no other way.”
The ice in Alexandra’s veins turned to slurry; her painful injuries seemed somehow dulled; she was too exhausted now to keep it together, and she slumped back down onto the nest, hot tears running over her cheekbones.

This doesn’t happen to me.

This doesn’t happen to us.

There’s a catch, she thought, choking on something that could either be a cry or a laugh. In a distance, she caught Draal explaining his role with the fake gaggletack, to the dismay of the other trolls.

“Oh, god, f*ck Kanjigar,” Alexandra muttered to herself.

Suddenly she shot up, pain screaming through her body as she grabbed onto Draal to keep from falling back down.

“We are not telling Trollmarket about this!” Alexandra exclaimed, startling the other three trolls. Blinky’s face scrunched in a way that she did not appreciate.

“Secrecy about what you are has nearly led us to ruin,” he said, as she knew he would. “I believe that the time of hiding is over; we – “

“They’ll kill me, Blinky, they won’t care if I’m the damn Trollhunter,” Alexandra yelled in response, ignoring Blinky’s gestures to calm her. “You three are already too much, I can’t trust the rest of Trollmarket not to put a knife in my back – “
“Master Alexandra, please, I merely meant – “
“At least let me heal from this battle before sending me to my goddamn death, Blinky – “
“Will you please be quiet,” Blinky huffed, stomping his foot angrily. “I am not suggesting we tell Trollmarket, imagine the panic! No – Vendel alone will suffice, for now.”
This put Alexandra on pause, briefly, before she got her second wind.

“Vendel is in the same school as Kanjigar and his council of dead assholes! I’m already on his sh*t-list, there’s not need to make it worse.”

“Much of this disastrous situation would not have happened if you had simply trusted us – “
“We already saw how well you would take it, Blinky!” Alexandra shouted hoarsely. “You damn near tried to get Trollmarket to mob me! I kept my secret to stay safe, and it was f*cking necessary.”

The other troll at least had the decency to look chagrined, and Alexandra turned away with a sigh. He had already apologized for that, at least.

“How the hell did you even find out.”

“The Leoht Stone,” Blinky said. He held a hand out to her amulet; confused, she summoned it to her palm and opened the back. The little yellow stone was removed and dropped into Blinky’s fingers; he held it to a lamp to examine it.

“I was not previously aware – and I doubt that many trolls are – but the Leoht Stone does not merely grant immunity to sunlight. In order for a troll to be unaffected, he or she must have some human component to provide that immunity. The Leoht Stone, if used by a truly trollish Hunter, would have temporarily turned you human. Since it did not, yet you were unaffected by daylight, I surmised that you were, in fact, a Changeling. I assume that you staged the entire previous incident?”

Alexandra nodded numbly. That could have gone so badly. If anybody else had seen, if anybody else had known about that stone…

“Vendel knows about this, doesn’t he?”
Blinky nodded grimly.

“It was he who told me of the stone’s power. I suspect that he will not be long for discovering you, if he has not already. But – and you must believe me when I tell you – Vendel is not the troll you seem to think he is.”
Blinky glanced at AAARRRGGHH then, who rumbled pensively.

“He believes in second chances,” Blinky said. “He was one of the first to defend AAARRRGGHH after his defection, for instance. Your state of being is not the only attribute that Vendel will judge you upon. He will – he has – looked upon your character and your care and dedication for the people under your protection. I know that he admired your decision to be merciful upon the Changelings, even though he may had disagreed with it personally.”

“There’s still a difference,” Alex whispered, settling back on the nest when Draal pushed her.

Blinky made to keep talking, but AAARRRGGHH knuckled forward, leaning over the nest until Alexandra was boxed in. He placed one hand upon his chest.

“Vendel trusted AAARRRGGHH,” he said quietly. “Bad troll. Gumm-Gumm. Murderer. Vendel and Kanjigar help find Krubera family.”

Alexandra, prone as she was, could not help but shake a bit.

“I can’t just trust someone like that,” she murmured, quietly enough that he had to lean in. “You are still a troll. Both of us were stolen; both of us were experimented on; both of us were trained and conditioned as murderers, but you weren’t Changed. No matter what you did you were the victim of your upbringing, but not me. Not us. Our nature was forced into us just as yours was, but we are the ones blamed for it. I can’t trust him to look past that.”

She watched as AAARRRGGHH deliberated on her words, his eyes searching her face as he thought. Then he straightened up and nodded.

“Understand,” he said. “But think Vendel will too.”

He straightened up. Alexandra watched as he turned to Blinky and Draal and gestured at the door.

“Need to check on Trollmarket,” he said. “Tell what happened, heal wounded.”

It was interesting to hear a note of command in his voice, even with the halting words. Blinky nodded in immediate agreement but Draal was hesitant. Alexandra took comfort in his warmth at her side, but AAARRRGGHH gently took the medicines and healing crystals from the smaller troll.

“Will stay. Draal go.”

He was making Draal leave?

no

f*ck

Alexandra refused to grab the blue troll and beg him to stay, but under no circ*mstances did she want him to go. He was safe; he was himself. She was injured and tired enough to admit that she felt safer with him around, and she watched him go without a word because she was an idiot who hated to rely on people and now she was stuck with AAARRRGGHH while bleeding upon her bed, probably about to be charged with telling her life story until everybody felt better and the world was rainbows and glitter and

She really didn’t want Draal to leave.

A soft cloth and a foul-smelling poultice was applied to the bite on her arm; Alex didn’t have the energy to fight him off, and finally just let herself be cared for. AAARRRGGHH’s hands were huge but gentle and did not harm her further. He pressed another cloth into one of her free hands and she softly started wiping blood from her skin.

“I’m bleeding,” she said, eager to get some words out before he began to talk. “I’m f*cking wounded, I am not having a heart-to-heart right now, just let me get some sleep.”

“Won’t sleep without Draal anyway,” AAARRRGGHH said. He ignored Alex when she glared at him, acidly falling into her first and most trusted defense, sarcasm.

“I am perfectly capable of closing my eyes without a giant blue teddy bear, thank you.”

AAARRRGGHH settled onto the floor next to the nest, big enough sitting down that he was still at her eye level.

“Couldn’t sleep without Blinky, long time,” he said. “Always tired, always watching. Blinky made better.”

“I don’t need Draal.”
AAARRRGGHH gave her a side-eye that clearly said shut the f*ck up.

“Draal safe. Blinky, AAARRRGGHH, not safe. Why?”
Alex flapped her bloodied cloth half-heartedly. She didn’t have the energy to do anything but talk now anyway. Pathetic as it was, without Draal there really would be no sleep.

Her mouth moved of its own accord. Might as well.

“The Changeling couldn’t imitate Draal’s accent well enough to impersonate him,” she said. “When he pretended to be you and Blinky it was…he was just different enough to be disturbing, but not enough for me to suspect anything. It was just…creepy.”
“Bad things?”
“He flirted with me. In Blinky’s body. In your body.”
AAARRRGGHH snorted as if the very idea was amusing to him.

“I’m from the sister clan to Blinky, I can’t be that hideous.”
“Not close enough,” he rumbled, making Alex smile. Even though flirtation was her usual modus operandi, sometimes hearing that certain people weren’t attracted to her was actually quite comforting.

“I don’t think he ever impersonated me, but I can’t be sure now. Anything that anybody has said since that battle may not have been ourselves.” We can’t trust anything.

AAARRRGGHH made a low, thundering grumble.

“Stone safe. Friends safe. Rest is…”
“…Irrelevant,” Alexandra finished, to the other troll’s agreement.

They stayed quiet for a while, AAARRRGGHH whistling occasionally until Alex threw her bloody rag into a corner.

This changes nothing.

I’m not Changing in front of any of them.

If they try to take advantage of this, I’m out of here. I’m not their spy either.

“Still angry…at AAARRRGGHH?”

Alexandra’s tired brain derailed for a second. She tried to remember any time where she had been angry with AAARRRGGHH, and was drawing a blank.

“When was…? Oh.”

That incident. Where she lost an eye, made him cry, and started Blinky on his Alexandra-sanctioned Changeling witch-hunt.

“That.”

She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t. It was just…

“Said…jealous?”

Yes.

“Yeah,” Alex mumbled, clenching her fist to make her bitten arm ache. The words didn’t come as easily as they had before.

“Draal was a lucky fluke,” she said. AAARRRGGHH made a curious noise; from the corner of one eye she saw him watching her intently.

“He knew since we had our big fight. He didn’t care. He looked at how I had treated him, how I was, not…what I was. He doesn’t know anything about my past and what I’ve done or been through. It didn’t matter to him.”

“Not easy,” AAARRRGGHH said. “Gunmar’s general, maybe spy. Nobody trusted AAARRRGGHH.”
“But you had the chance,” Alex whispered, her throat closing traitorously. “They forgave you. They were sorry for you. You were still a part of them; a stolen, corrupted part, but a part nonetheless.”
Her wounded arm and shoulder burned with the next clench of her fist and she tried to steady herself with the pain. This talk sucked.

“I can’t…”

f*ck

“I can’t ask for that kind of acceptance. Dammit. I can’t ask for forgiveness. They’ve placed blame on me for something that was done to me and I can’t ask them to forgive me, I will not…”
Her words closed on a squeak and Alex let the tears come. This wasn’t her worst and they’d seen her here before, and the enormous bear-hug that AAARRRGGHH haltingly tried to wrap her in without exacerbating her injuries or moving her was both comforting and hilarious.

“I…apologize. For that time I yelled at you,” she whispered into the hair of his chest. He’d settled for having one hand under the side of her back and the other resting on her uninjured shoulder. She was still lying down exactly where she was, so it really kind of sucked as a hug, but the gesture stood.

She wiped her face on her bandages and charged AAARRRGGHH with helping her to her feet. Her shoulder wasn’t going to do anything useful with what she had on hand, and if she kept re-injuring it like she was it was bound to heal wrong, so off to Vendel’s they went; hopefully could help with her more minor wounds as well.

Alex didn’t let AAARRRGGHH carry her again, but he was a beautifully solid arm to lean against. Lying down for a few minutes had helped vaguely with her exhaustion, but her legs were committing mutiny at the return of movement.

Nobody stopped them as they walked, and AAARRRGGHH had the sense to lead Alex through the quicker, less scenic routes, away from the damage of the recent fight.

As he gently lifted her over a protrusion of stalagmites, one more question passed his lips.

“Family. Should w-“

“No.”

He stepped back at the hard answer, and Alexandra steadied herself, forcing her voice to be gentler, especially since they were now in the open.

“No,” she said again. “They’re not going to want to know me, and we are not going to try. I gave that up centuries ago, we’re done with it.”

“AAARRRGGHH’s family happy.”
“You were a war hero. You were a troll.”
“But Trollhunter – “
“Because simply being their daughter isn’t enough? We’re not contacting them,” Alex said sharply, her voice echoing sharply through the chamber. “I looked it up, they already wrote me off as dead. If they’re happier that way, fine. I’m not the daughter they lost, not anymore, and they’re never going to be the family I remember. What happened happened, and there is no returning from it. Not this time. Please: drop the subject, AAARRRGGHH. This is different than you.”

They continued walking in silence, Alexandra fuming guiltily from her outburst while AAARRRGGHH mulled on her words. The light of the Heartstone just broke across their faces when a hard elbow gently nudged her bruised bicep.

“New family better,” AAARRRGGHH said.

Her throat closed on the reply.

Point.

Chapter 20

Chapter Text

Everybody thinks that weeds are worthless, but in a barren and abandoned land it is the weeds that grow first, and that set the foundation for further growth.

The singular glow of Bular’s now lonesome eye should have reminded Walter Stricklander of their exalted Dark Lord, in its malice and its fury. Bular looked like his father; the details may have been different, and his lack of skill in sorcery denied him the mysterious glow that Gunmar possessed, but the outline was there, as was the general impermeability to injury and the built-in sense of entitlement.

That was, until the Trollhunter had brought a handgun to a swordfight. That act alone would have suggested she wasn’t fully troll, even without her apparently walking in sunlight. Stricklander personally thought that Bular may have fudged the details, given that he’d just been shot in the eye, but nevertheless. The single most devasting injury ever given to the son of Gunmar had been done by a human weapon in the hands of an unknown and possibly Impure Trollhunter. Gunmar was furious.

Bular, on the other hand, was pensive – which, to Stricklander, was significantly more worrying. A pensive Bular was unpleasantly sneaky Bular, and he was prone to inconvenient bouts of cleverness in these times. He was as violent and temperamental as his father, but cut off as he was from the Darklands, Bular had been forced to adapt, though less than Stricklander would have liked.

He forever remained impatient and unsubtle, but his time in the surface world had beaten down his superiority complex just barely enough to allow a tiny bit of mercy. Bular, as much as he liked to throw his weight around, acknowledged the value of a good army. He wasn’t quiet about his ambitions to conquer and lead, in contrast to his father’s simple desire to destroy. Gunmar was more than willing to kill every soldier in his command if it temporarily assuaged his temper, and he had no goals that went further than ‘conquer and burn the world to the ground’.

Bular knew that one couldn’t rule if there was nothing to rule over. At bare minimum, he had that going for him.

Stricklander had known for a very long time that Gunmar’s reign wasn’t quite the best thing for Changeling advancement but he had never truly allowed himself to muse upon what exactly that meant, and the real implications of that realization. He had been content to remain loyal. But then Gunmar had ordered the attack on Trollmarket, upon the bare rumor of a Changeling Trollhunter, as a punishment.

Even Bular, as callous as he was toward Stricklander and his folk, had been shocked by the order. It was a deliberate death sentence. Completely ignoring that exposing the presence of Changelings in Arcadia and sending the majority of one’s spy operation on a suicide mission was insane, it was also self-ruinous and damaging. Bular, the brat, would be unable to live on the surface without exposure if he didn’t have Stricklander and his associates to tend to him. The blasted bridge project would be forced to a standstill. Without the Changelings, Gunmar’s claim on the world diminished; his (Stricklander’s, really) global network of infiltrators was now shaken and unstable, because of one single, cruel order.

But the most damaging thing it did was sow, not fear, but doubt.

Nomura, as fanatically loyal as she had been, was now hissing and temperamental, her worldview shaken down to its establishment. Even Stricklander, who had gotten a clue about Gunmar and how unhealthy he was to Stricklander’s dreams of quiet world domination many, many years ago, was doubting the bare minimum of loyalty that he had for Gunmar. The Dark Lord, who had been quietly viewed as a means to an end by the more forward-thinking Changelings, had now become an active threat.

And throughout all this, the Trollhunter’s offer turned over and over in Stricklander’s head.

He had been so distracted, in fact, that a few of his students had even asked about his well-being, after he returned to school following a few days of a ‘stomach bug’. His shoulder still pulled painfully in the lingering tears in the muscle that their medic hadn’t been able to fix magically, and between his hidden injuries and clouded mind he had excused himself early from school for the first time in his career. The Janus Order needed him more.

Fourteen Changelings were dead; seven were injured badly enough to have to remain in Arcadia for the week, and eight others were still bed-bound. The rest, including Nomura and Stricklander himself, had been escorted from Trollmarket with the promise of no further harm, a promise that had actually been followed. The Trollhunter had negotiated with him for the Anstramonstrum crystal and their stolen horngazel, and in return allowed his remaining people passage, with the promise to return their dead for later interment.

She also killed Otto, but given that the deceitful little sh*t had stayed behind to play spy without Stricklander’s approval, he was of the opinion that Otto had taken his chance, and lost.

The Trollhunter, on the other hand…

“Shut up.”

Stricklander caught the rolled-up magazine before it hit the side of his head, blinking rapidly at the cooling cup of tea in his hand. Nomura, who had been seated across from him, downed the rest of her cup and crossed her arms, glaring at him as she scratched at her bandages.

“I don’t believe I’ve spoken,” Stricklander said. He took a sip and made a face, putting the cup back on the saucer and sliding the cold tea away from him. On the sidewalk and street around them, the quiet town carried on as it normally did; people chatting lightly as they shopped, cars idling at the stoplight, the clink of glasses as a waiter cleared the table behind him. The normality grated at him, as if the world around him should be cracked, quaking – shaking on its foundations and breaking into falling pieces as his own mind and heart were.

Nomura, true to form, was utterly unsympathetic to his silent plight.

“You’re thinking loud enough to give me a headache,” she complained, and then grabbed his abandoned cup and shot it back. It never failed to amaze him how a true connoisseur of international tea like Nomura could have the absolute worst personal tastes. It was like watching a Greek historian praise Clash of the Titans, and it was yet another reason why Stricklander was so very unhappy at being forced to make her his second-in-command.

The fact that his previous second, third, and fourth-in-commands had been killed by the Dark Underlord’s temper tantrum Trollmarket’s warriors was hardly relevant. Just because the entirety of the Janus Order was scrambling to deal with the loss of so many of its members didn’t mean that he should have to deal with Nomura more than he already did, but here they were. Sitting at a café drinking sub-par tea, and planning to commit treason while trying to not actually commit treason.

Because Gunmar had finally showed his hand.

Because if trolls were able to accept a Changeling Trollhunter, then Stricklander’s kin may have a safer place to retreat to.

Their brethren Trollhunter, whatever damned traitor she was, had quite a lot to answer for.

Blinky, bless him, had hidden Vendel’s trapping stones, but for once Alexandra wasn’t in the mood to make a fuss about being tended to. This time, she was perfectly happy to curl up on a nest of purloined blankets and sleep the sleep of the deeply exhausted, surrounded by budding crystals and swathed in bandages yet again. Vendel had taken special offense to the injuries on her face once he learned that the imposter had used his body to cause such damage. She’d never had a swollen eye tended to so carefully, nor a broken tooth packed with such gentleness. Her joking compliment on the power of his backhand had fallen short of its injured humor at the disturbed look on Vendel’s face, and the Hunter afterward let herself be tended to in silence.

The sleep of the deeply exhausted was, apparently, fraught with nightmares but thankfully long in duration. Alexandra awoke from a very disturbing dream of a witch hanging inside of a burning church almost sixteen hours after she had faceplanted her nest.

Her amulet had migrated from its customary place in her pocket to rest on her wrist; it twinkled cheerfully as she dragged herself upright, without nearly as much groaning and moaning as she wanted, since Vendel was watching from the sidelines.

“Am I allowed to move around this time?”

“I hardly think that I can stop you,” the old troll said, beginning to kneel in order to examine the healing cut on her shoulder. Alexandra rolled to her feet and seated herself at the table where he could more easily reach her.

“AAARRRGGHH and Blinkous came a short while ago to drop off reading material,” he said, “But in my opinion you are perfectly able to take yourself to the library. If you promise not to re-open anything this time, you stubborn fool.”

Alexandra muttered her assent. The general noise of the market was quieted to a gentle susurrus inside the cavern of the Heartstone, but she could still hear it.

“How’s the damage?”

Vendel poked at her nose, checking the swelling before slathering it with a sweet-smelling paste.

“To Trollmarket? We have seen worse days. Bagdwella’s stall has been repaired. You’ll be pleased to hear that no further imposters have been discovered.”

Alexandra did not allow herself to show it, but Vendel’s assurance brought her a breath of relief. After seeing her to the Heartstone AAARRRGGHH had taken it upon himself to gather up Blinky and Draal and test every troll in Trollmarket with a gaggletack – a real one, checked by Alexandra herself when Vendel was briefly called away. RotGut’s emporium had been bought out of its stock, and until Alexandra was back up and running Vendel was enforcing a temporary lockdown. Felsiclase had been contacted, and now protective charms and totems from the Isarnan Heartstone adorned every entrance and exit, every crack. Bagdwella was making a killing with new defensive items at her repaired stall. Nobody had begrudged them their caution.

A thick finger poked at Alex’s ribs, testing for pain.

“And the injured?” she asked.
Vendel rumbled unhappily.

“Those who were hurt in the recent fight are fine enough; it’s those from the Changeling battle that are not improving. Taar and Daar will eventually heal; Jaela, I fear, will not see the end of this week.”

The Trollhunter’s fist clenched without her permission. Jaela, she knew, was the last living parent of a very tiny whelp; Alexandra had held the child up to see her mother in the Healing Dwell the day after the battle, where the troll woman had been injured by the Anstramonstrum. The other two had been nearly killed by the attacking goblin horde; a pair of brothers who fought bravely but with little real experience. Alexandra had been so busy that she had forgotten to visit them.

A broad, heavy hand rested on her uninjured shoulder.

“You take on more responsibility than is yours to bear, Trollhunter. No, do not argue with me,” Vendel said, squeezing her arm when she made to disagree.

“I have never met a Hunter busier in their early days than you. I know you felt ill at ease here, yet there is hardly a single troll in Trollmarket who has not had a comforting word from you. But as you have cared for us, despite being a stranger to us all, allow Trollmarket to take care of itself for a little while. You are permitted to heal, anxious little fool.”

“You do the same thing,” Alex finally said, as Vendel put away his healing supplies. “I am doing my job, as you are.”

“Yes,” he said, “But I am not required to pick fights with Bular at the same time. You are not Maddrax the Many, to stretch yourself a thousand directions at once. Just because you heal uncommonly fast does not mean you are free to galivant around like a gravid Stalking. Rest.”

Alexandra decided to relax by visiting the injured trolls, who were being extremely argumentative with their healers until said healers clocked them on the head. Despite Vendel’s concerns, visiting put Alexandra at ease; she could monitor those who had been hurt and bring them news, taking messages in turn to give to others whom she would later visit. It had been one of her primary practices in her early human lives, to endear herself to her neighbors by being genuinely friendly and interested in them. But as Trollhunter, the approach had almost turned into a comfort, a means of keeping an eye on those under her protection, keeping her busy by seeing what they needed help with, be it a repair to a damaged home or an ear for a damaged heart.

Watching Jaela fade was difficult. Alexandra had never really met the woman or even seen her awake and whole, but seeing her child slowly lose hope every time the whelp’s temporary guardians brought her for a visit hurt in a cold, aching way.

AAARRRGGHH found her exchanging jokes with the brothers, munching hungrily at the lunch she’d bought on the way over. Gradually developing a taste for real trollish food was both a relief and a concern; a relief because she would fit in better, and a concern because troll food was, on occasion, literal garbage. She waved at him to give her a minute before going off to find the healer in charge.

The healer, a short, brawny troll named Pottlebot, gave her a new mixture for the burns on her hands; Vendel had nearly had a fit at the state of them and demanded to know the cause. Alexandra had shaken it off as a spell gone wrong, something she’d tried in the fury of the fight without knowing exactly how to manage it, and the elder troll and the other healers were having rather a difficult time figuring how exactly to take care of such particular injuries. So far, only Heartstone-based remedies had done anything significant. Much to Alexandra’s relief – and worry – neither Vendel nor the healers had made any mention on her usual number of fingers.

Alexandra stood patiently as the healer smoothed a glowing paste of powdered crystal over her top two hands, taking a bite out of her rather expensive burger, which had turned out to be almost good enough to be worth what Alex suspected was a ridiculous overcharge.

AAARRRGGHH lumbered over to watch their progress, poking around the supplies cabinet curiously after giving Jaela a concerned sniff.

“Draal moody,” he said, backing up when Pottlebot swatted him away from the cat-based medicines.

“Oh? Has something happened?”
The giant troll shook his head while the healer harumphed.

“Tell Draal the Dedicated, when you leave, that he is to march his undersized little arse back here to get the rest of his medications. I know those cuts itch and I won’t have him scratching them back open again.”

Judging by AAARRRGGHH’s guilty face, that was exactly what was putting Draal in a mood. If he was happy to bleed all over Trollmarket then Alexandra would be happy to fuss at him.

Pottlebot finished with Alexandra’s top pair of hands and started on the bottom, forcing Alex to stuff down the rest of her burger. She tossed the soggy wrapper to AAARRRGGHH, who was sniffing the healing unguents; he happily snatched it out of the air and swallowed it whole. Alexandra, who had turned back to the healer, didn’t notice the immediate widening of his eyes and pained expression until the wrapper was promptly spat out and deposited with a damp plop next to her feet.

She turned and looked at AAARRRGGHH with a grimace, only to see him step back, the hair on his shoulders bristling like a cat.

“AAARRRGGHH…? What – “

“Human.”

Alex looked down at the soggy wrapper. Something in her throat clenched.

“What do you mean – “

AAARRRGGHH bent down and gently sniffed the paper, before straightening up with a queer look on his face.

“Human.”

The world narrowed into a pinpoint in Alexandra’s mind. She felt a sudden wash of icy cold through her body, focused on the horrified realization that she had quite enjoyed the burger.

Human. The burger was made of human meat.

She made it approximately six feet out of the entrance before losing the contents of her stomach.

Baak the Burger Guy was a rather top-heavy troll who fervently insisted on plausible deniability.

“I didn’t ask what kind of meat it was an’ he didn’t tell me,” he said, again. Despite being suddenly confronted by an angry Trollhunter, an enraged Vendel, a disgruntled Blinky, an eavesdropping Bagdwella, and a somewhat distressed AAARRRGGHH, he kept up a surprisingly stoic face.

“Business has been good.”

“Business has been deceitful,” the Trollhunter hissed, menacing the shopkeeper with full armor and sword in hand. Blinky, upon hearing of the commotion in the Healing Dwell and finding both his Trollhunter and his companion in states of distress, had taken it upon himself to ascertain the reason for trouble and lead the charge to the vendor’s stall. Vendel, of course, had been summoned, and when Bagdwella noticed the disturbance she happily came along to see what the fuss was about.

Alexandra apparently was having a bad enough day without the accidental ingestion of human meat to put a cap on it, and her famous temper was now flaring up again. Blinky was torn between comforting his friend and trying to prevent a murder.

“Look, yer’honor, the meat’s cheap to buy and pricey to sell, alright? I don’t gotta catch it meself and the guy gave me a pretty good deal – “

“Nobody got hurt, all’s dead,” Baak the Burger Guy sneered, looking massively confident for someone being yelled at by a troll who could light her hands on fire.

Blinky saw Alexandra draw herself up and had the immediate notion that she was going to threaten the stall owner with a little accident unless someone did something soon. He interjected himself by firmly wedging an arm between the two, which did utterly nothing.

“Perhaps – “
“How would you feel if humans raided the Silent Keep and stole a body to be ground into gravel, or carved into a statue? Your older sister is down there, isn’t she? And your mother and nephew as well?”
Blinky, slightly unbalanced due to his unsuccessful wedge, paused, as did Baak. Alexandra took one look at that moment of weakness and grabbed hold.

“Would they have liked to be disturbed, stolen from their repose, and turned into a modern art exhibit in a museum Upstairs?”

“It’s not the same – “
“It’s exactly the same, except instead of being ogled at, the damn humans were ingested! And more to the point, Trollmarket and the people within have vowed for centuries to forgo human meat. Trolls eat goddamn ANYTHING except for that one thing, and you’re here selling under the table and lying about your product to people who trust you not to deceive them – “

Blinky quickly extracted himself and backed off to where the rest stood awkwardly to the side, grumbling amongst each other but happy enough to let the Trollhunter vent for a little bit. He sidled against AAARRRGGHH, who still had a queasy look on his face but was content to wrap an arm around the smaller troll.

“ – And to trick people like this now, while we’re in the middle of recovering from an attack that has resulted in several deaths and the destruction of a good portion of people’s homes, you’re pulling this kind of horsesh*t now? As if we have time to come over here and investigate your underhanded, dishonorable inconsideration for other people’s moral decisions, you LYING – “

It went on this vein for about eight more minutes, until Alexandra was out of breath and out of anger and poor Baak had given up the name of the merchant who had sold him the ‘unidentified random meat, completely legit and at half-price’.

Alexandra, upon reducing the shopkeeper to guilty tears, pat him on the back and immediately put out a very polite but very firm request to speak to the merchant as soon as he was back in Trollmarket, the troll in question having left only two days before, barely ahead of Vendel’s lockdown.

She stalked off so quickly that AAARRRGGHH had to grab Blinky and carry him along, leaving Baak the Burger Guy to Vendel and Bagdwella, neither of whom looked particularly ready to let the merchant go without giving him a piece of their own minds.

The crowds parted around Alexandra as she plowed through the market, armor glinting, her sword shining on her back. From his rather unsteady position Blinky could see her fists clenching at her sides. He understood that she was angry – everyone was angry. Baak’s actions that been a violation of the personal vows and beliefs of every troll in Heartstone Trollmarket. Blinky would be the first to admit that he had been the one of the last to agree to abstain from human flesh, but over the centuries he had gained a respect and fascination for human culture and society to the point where the very memory of his own initial disagreement of the vow was disquieting and disgusting to him.

But Alexandra appeared to be taking it personally.

Blinky supposed that it was only to be expected; though he didn’t have much of a clear picture of her early days, he could imagine that being placed in a human household, acting like one of their own, living among human societies and joining in their trials and triumphs, would have lent her the same revulsion for human meat that Blinky himself eventually came to possess.

AAARRRGGHH rumbled uncertainly; Blinky felt the vibrations against his back and side as they turned into his library. Alexandra was already pacing through the stacks, opening and closing books at random and glaring at a researching troll until he quickly pocketed his book and edged out of the door. Alexandra began to round on them and Blinky cut her off before she could start again.

“A most distressing and unfortunate situation, yes, but one that will have to be solved at another time, I’m afraid.”
Alexandra, standing in the chaotic library with chest heaving and fists clenching, eyed him for a very long moment before running a hand through her hair and leaning against the wall.

“Fine. Fine. Okay. So: We have Killahead Bridge stuff, uh. Changelings in Arcadia – “
“Including – “
“We’re not discussing that right now, thank you. Trollmarket should be safe, for now; we’ve got the lockdown, we’ve checked every troll in here twice, every person and every gaggletack is accounted for. We’ve got charms and totems on every damn corner. We’re good on that front. So.”
“It may be time, if nothing else dire happens in the immediate future, to continue our reconnaissance and try to hold back Gunmar’s escape for as long as we possibly can.”
As AAARRRGGHH settled down among the stacks, Blinky gently navigated the still-damaged library to uncover the Bridge piece’s box from its hiding place. The box, a perfect, harmless replica, was completely undamaged, the precious stone within whole and unchanged. It made him cold just to handle it, knowing what he nearly had done.

The situation with the polymorphic Changeling was too close, too close by far; if he had taken the bridge piece and they had never found out…
“Chaos,” Blinky whispered. He glanced at AAARRRGGHH with a furrowed brow.

“I...”

Blinky handed the cursed box to his friend, pacing slowly with hands clenched at his back.
“Bular’s presence meant that nothing ever was truly through; our battles, our trials still waged, until Gunmar’s threat was completely obliterated. But with the Killahead Bridge under construction, Changelings once more gathering in secret, and an outright attack on Trollmarket itself, I fear that Gunmar’s wrath is so much closer at hand than any of us had hoped. We need a way to defeat him.”

Alexandra stood from her lean, a hand automatically going to her amulet.

“He’s trapped, though,” she said. “The Bridge can’t be opened now.”
“Yes, but we’ve seen just how close it has come for us to lose our one advantage. Contingencies must be found.”

Blinky selected a book from a shelf and cast it onto the table, ignoring it immediately to paw through the rest of his stacks. Off in the corner, AAARRRGGHH settled himself down to watch, think fingers running over the box with unease. Blinky took pity and reclaimed it, handing it off to Alexandra when she reached.

“So, in the unlikely possibility that he somehow escapes, what do we do?” she asked.

“An excellent conundrum, Master Alexandra,” Blinky murmured. “Gunmar is legendarily difficult to wound, let alone kill. He may have built his cult around lies but his origins and physiology are different than other trolls, and he is much, much more powerful.”

Alexandra’s hands found the lock and triggered it. The lid popped open and was quickly popped back closed.

“Would time have had any effect? He’s been trapped in the Darklands for centuries, without a Heartstone or anything more than incremental support. He’s got to be ancient and weakened by now.”

“True, true,” Blinky tutted, throwing down another book. “But you must remember that Gunmar was born from a Heartstone himself. He is accomplished in black magic, with a repertoire of powers that few of us can imagine. And unfortunately, he has little need to gather true armies to himself; with the power he possesses he can turn any enemy into a soldier enslaved to his will. Many of the Gumm-Gumms we slayed in the Battle of Killahead were, originally, our own.”

Alexandra pulled the growing pile of books toward herself, finally banishing the armor. Blinky trailed through his stacks, shuffling aside bits and pieces that had not been cleaned up yet and filing loose tomes and scrolls at random. Work, work, that was what he needed to do. If he could just work, if he could figure out a solution, then the cold guilt and oozing horror of what might-have-been would leave him be. There was so much to do, so much to plan for…

“Are there ways to break his enchantments? If we can get his support system free, maybe…”

“I do not know, Master Alexandra. But the answers, hopefully, will be somewhere in here.”

Alexandra set the box down on the table, picked up a book, put it down, and then slid the box over to Blinky.

“Put the stone back in the Changeling-proof box,” Alexandra said without preamble.

Oh thank Deya and all the stars, Blinky thought wildly, recovering the protective box from the shelf he’d stashed it on and unceremoniously dumping the Bridge fragment into it with a clatter. He turned the lock and Alexandra took the box and the key from him.

Blinky watched with trepidation as she jiggled the key, knocked on the box, shook it, and even tried to bite it. The box held, with no sound from the object within, and was returned utterly unchanged and unlocked. Blinky shuffled to the back corner of his library and shoved the box beneath a crystal lamp, in a tiny hidden cranny where he had hidden the particularly scandalous erotica novels.

It felt as though a vice around his chest had been loosened. He slumped against AAARRRGGHH’s comforting bulk.

The next few hours were spent in quiet discussion, Alexandra and Blinky’s eight collective hands skimming through tome after tome as they bounced ideas back and forth, the gentle growl of AAARRRGGHH’s deep voice rumbling through theirs.

The majority of the discussion centered on the Changelings, and their current leader, one Walter Stricklander - the very Changeling whom Alexandra had made her uneasy deal with.

“Strickler is self-serving,” Alexandra murmured, copying down a few passages on the magic of Killahead Bridge and its site, “But he’s not completely heartless. Most of the Changelings are, in his viewpoint, there to advance his own goals but he knows that without the rest he’ll have nothing. I don’t think that ‘care’ is the right word for how he feels about the rest of the Janus Order but they are under his charge, and he’d rather them live or die.”
Blinky supposed that was better than nothing.

“Do you believe – truly – that he would help us? Loyalty aside, Gunmar could be a means to an end…”
“I think that Gunmar f*cked up really, really badly,” said the Hunter. She’d grown quieter as they had ventured deeper into the topic of Changelings. Her answers had been insightful, but Blinky still could only barely pick out any personal connections. Her trust was growing, though through no choice of her own, but it appeared that she would struggle with it for a while yet.

“He sent his servants on a suicide mission for something they didn’t do. Changelings aren’t like most Gumm-Gumms, who I think are controlled through magic. They’re - “

- And there it was again, her continued use of ‘they’ versus ‘we’, as if Blinky would simplyforget–

“ – Loyal through training and conditioning. He doesn’t actually control them himself. There’s free will.”

“Talk with green one,” said AAARRRGGHH from his seat on the carpet, where Blinky had spared a hand to turn pages for him. “Gunmar not safe. Bad leader, hurts followers. Dangerous.”

“Indeed, my friend,” said Blinky. “If this Stricklander is as self-interested as you say, Master Alexandra, then perhaps he could be convinced to part with information or even, with any luck, agree to spy.”
Alexandra grumbled and gathered up her books, scooting until she was gently rested on AAARRRGGHH’s opposite side, not quite touching but close enough for Blinky to marvel at the gesture. Her eyes were tight, but she did not retreat.

“I think it’s worth it to try,” she said. “But how well would this be received? Vendel still wants to be involved in the Bridge situation – “
“Yes, and on that topic – “ Blinky began. Alexandra threw a pencil at him.

“ – What promises am I to make to him? To not kill him or the others on sight? I can’t ask him to risk himself without a safety net to fall back on, he won’t go for it. Strickler has backups and contingencies for his contingencies. He’s the oldest Changeling I know of. We’d need something good. Amnesty for peaceful defectors at bare minimum.”

“Which, Master Alexandra, is something we most certainly would need to confer with Vendel about. And on that subject – “

“I’m changing the subject.”
“The longer this goes the worse the end result, I assure you. Better to have it from your own lips than from watchful eyes or prying ears. Vendel admires your work so far, I know it, and you will have the backup of myself, AAARRRGGHH, and Draal, not to mention your position as Trollhunter.”

The blue pulse of the amulet in the Hunter’s pocket betrayed her stress.

“It…this can wait. If I start making overtures to help the Janus Order and Vendel knows that I’m…it’ll look suspicious. It’s better to. Just. Stop talking, Blinky, please.”

“The best time to act is now, Trollhunter. Vendel’s wisdom is boundless and would be an incredible boon, if we could actually include him with any degree of honesty.”
“And you’re perfectly aware of exactly why I might think that’s a terrible idea,” said Alexandra, pushing aside a scroll and standing with some difficulty to pace around the room in a mood. Blinky felt for her, he truly did – her position was still tenuous and short-lived, and Blinky’s own actions had damaged much hope of peaceful relations on the subject matter at hand. But the secrecy in which she necessitated and in which he had been complicit had nearly brought disaster upon them, and in all honestly Blinky was scared. His near-mistake had spooked him worse than he felt like admitting, and a deep, hungry part of him wished for the ageless wisdom of the elder troll. There needed to be a responsible adult somewhere around here, and Blinky very much wanted it to be someone else. It was childish, and most unlike him. AAARRRGGHH shifted in response to his discomfort, and he relaxed back into his seat, withdrawing a hand from running through his hair.

“If we cannot – “

At the entrance to the library a figure of blue appeared. Blinky nearly threw a book at it for the interruption, before he realized that it was in fact Draal, finally emerged from wherever he had been hiding.

Alexandra uttered a quiet oath and latched onto the distraction like lichen on rock, immediately interrogating Draal about Baak’s burgers before rushing out of the library, Draal hot on her heels. There was a retching sound. Blinky stood up with a cascade of books and made for the door, only to be held back by AAARRRGGHH’s finger through his suspender.

“Let leave,” he said, pulling Blinky back down. “Much to think about. Many worries. Arguing not helping.”

Blinky allowed himself to be dragged under a massive arm and sighed, only calling out once when he heard a muffled sentence about their discussion.

“Discussing? What are we discussing? Because I have a few topics I would like to bring up,” he said loudly. There was a low curse and the sound of someone being shoved. Neither troll reappeared.

“Impossible,” Blinky muttered, grabbing another book from the accumulated pile. He propped it up to where his companion could see it as well, and fumed as he read aloud, trapped by a warm, comforting arm.

But this wasn’t over yet!

Chapter 21

Chapter Text

“When life is not coming up roses
Look to the weeds
and find the beauty hidden within them.”
―L.F.Young

Draal entered the library after a very itchy but otherwise relaxing morning of avoiding absolutely everybody who might be inclined to bully him into the Healing Dwell, only to find the Trollhunter, Blinky, and AAARRRGGHH sitting around in various states of disarray and looking rather put-out.

The market had been a bit more tumultuous than usual on this trip from his rooms to the library, and he was about to ask what was going on before the Trollhunter opened her mouth.

“Have you eaten anything from Baak the Burger Guy’s stand recently?”
Draal had literally just entered the door, he was not expecting an interrogation – but at least it wasn’t about him avoiding Pottlebot and her damn stinky healing unguents. He reached a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, where a spot of peeling skin was bothering him.
“Erm, no?” he replied. Alexandra visibly relaxed, settling down on a stool as her claws restlessly tapped her thighs.

“Baak’s been selling food made from human meat.”

Draal’s hand dropped, disturbing a pile of books from a table. They slid onto the floor as he stared at Alexandra.

“…Ah.”

Alexandra rounded on him in a flurry.

“Yes, ah. ‘Ah’ as in – as in – oh God oh f*ck – “
Alexandra spun on her heel and ducked around him, just barely exiting the library before emptying her stomach on the stone outside. Draal turned around and grabbed a fistful of her hair out of her face. There was another heaving noise.

“I will guess that you ate one of Baak’s burgers?”

She spat angrily.

“Yes I ate one of Baak’s f*cking burgers.”
“Disgusting.”
“It was good,” she whispered, in a voice that was almost shaking. She spat again and leaned against the wall, gesturing tiredly as trolls passed by.

“Do you…erm…”
Alexandra wiped her mouth against her shoulder.

“No, I don’t want to talk about it,” she croaked. “I want you to get to the goddamn healer. I’ve got ten separate issues warring for attention right now and I am going to make your disregard for your own health Issue Number One to distract me from the fact that I enjoyed a f*cking human-burger, and Blinky’s asking me questions. Start walking.”

Draal took the moment to lean away from the sour scent of vomit – away from the direction of the Healing Dwell.

“I require nothing.”
“Your skin is flaking off every time you move and it’s disgusting.”

“Discussing? What are we discussing? Because I have a few topics I would like to bring up,” shouted Blinky from inside the library.

Alexandra straightened up with a groan and shoved Draal further into the hallway.

“Quick, quick, get a move on.”

Draal allowed himself to be pushed for a total of ten feet, whereupon he twisted away from the Trollhunter, using his superior strength to get out of her grip – only to stop when she actually summoned the armor and yanked his arm behind his head, forcing him to walk at an awkward cant, the tip of her sword hovering just behind his back. A few alarmed murmurs echoed from the crowd.

“Nothing to be concerned about,” said Alexandra, pushing again until Draal started forward. “Just reluctant to see the healer.”

There were some aborted chuckles and Draal felt himself flush. Alexandra’s hand on his wrist tightened, another digging into his side where she’d grabbed the edge of his kilt.

“Are you really going to make me drag you at sword-point to the healers, like a child?” she hissed.

Draal was finding it remarkably difficult to speak, actually, with the uncomfortable position.

“You would escort a child to the healers at sword-point?” he managed.

“A child could be reasoned with before it ever got to that point. You, on the other hand, require handling, apparently.”

The healers were highly amused at Draal’s undignified predicament and quickly cleaned and dressed the wendigo cuts on his front and scrubbed away the remaining evidence of his tussle with the anstramonstrum with a pumice stone, which truly did feel quite good, loathe as he was to admit it. Pottlebot, the demon, slathered him from head to toe with the most disgusting unguents she could make up, and by the time the Trollhunter allowed him to escape the Healing Dwell Draal was nearly dripping in foul, bitter ointments.

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself, Hunter,” he growled, dancing away when she tried to hip-check him as he led the way to the Hero’s Forge. Alexandra did not heed him, and continued to look as smug as possible.

Hands sticky and slippery, he could not hold a weapon, but still he directed her as best as possible in her physical training. Blinkous was proven knowledgeable in many arts, true, but his expertise lay primarily in book-teaching, not in practical demonstration. Alexandra had advanced steadily to the point where Draal could admit that she was a worthy opponent, but her skill could only be improved by practice and experience through sparring, which Draal excelled at.

And so he spent a highly enjoyable afternoon grappling with the Trollhunter, aiming to teach her further in throwing off a stronger opponent, though he was careful not to strain either his cuts or her still-healing shoulder.

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself,” she echoed, after almost two hours of him tackling her and rubbing as much pungent ointment across her face and armor as he could.

“I do not know what you mean,” Draal replied. “This is training. How can you defeat me if you cannot keep hold of me?”

The Daylight armor had many benefits, but being slip-proof was not one of them, and with his skin covered in oily salves Alexandra could only grab him if she dug her claws in, and he knew that she actively was trying not to hurt him further. Her four arms aided her slightly, but between the two of them Draal had the greater reach and weight and size, and even though grappling pulled on his healing wounds he brightened with the exercise and the chance to teach her how better to survive her acclaimed and horrifically dangerous profession.

“I think this is the part where I can shoot Bular in the other eye,” Alexandra groaned, her face smooshed into Draal’s elbow as he wrenched her leg in the air, holding her away from him before she could kick or elbow him in the gronk-nuks. She slid out of his grasp and then bit him on the way down; he dropped her with a yelp but pinned her by sitting on her legs.

“You cannot totally rely on your weapons - human, troll, or otherwise,” Draal said, trying to grab one of her horns but failing with his slippery fingers; he settled for pulling his elbow under her chin, where the curve of her horns worked to keep his arm in place. Trapped on her stomach, with a greater weight on her lower half and her upper half curved up, she was immobilized, reaching behind her but only able to scrape against him with the tips of her fingers.

“So now what, Trollhunter?”
Alexandra growled, wriggling ineffectively.

“You’re the bloody trainer, jackass, you tell me,” she said, scraping again at his knee and the back of his kilt. There was a brief flare of warmth but he knew she wouldn’t use her sun-fire hands, not on him during a brief spar.

She panted for a few moments, trembling in the uncomfortable position. Draal tightened his grip.

“Well, Trollhunter? Bular would have killed you by now.”
“Is there anybody around?”
Draal looked up, peering carefully into the galleries surrounding the Forge.

“Not that I can see. But if you were to shift, my weight would break your le – “

Draal wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, but in the next instant his arm around her throat lost its hold and he flew backward, the shift in weight enough for her to turn her torso and pull her legs away from him; the world spun briefly but he rolled to his feet, just in time to get kicked in the face. He stumbled back a step and rubbed his jaw with a grin.

“Shifting only your head and chest; a very good trick!”
Two hands twirling her sword, the Hunter smiled. She pulled a cloth from her pocket and wiped her hands with it, tossing it to him so that he could do the same.

“Comes in handy sometimes, I’ll admit.”
Draal took a staff from the weapons rack and began a set of formal poses, once again gentle enough to take caution of their injuries. He had no desire to have to visit Pottlebot the Pitiless any time in the future. Alexandra mirrored his movements, sword switching between her lower hands. They practiced in a companiable silence, which he had grown to appreciate with her.

For as much as he’d resented her initial appointment to the honored position of Trollhunter, under much duress Draal could admit that he was glad to be Alexandra’s trainer. It took a certain amount of pressure off of him; he no longer lived under the expectation of assuming the mantle of Trollhunter after the fall of his father, and instead he noticed that he was now looked upon and called upon by others for himself – known by his own merit and wanted for his own talents and skills.

The friends he had made in his young adulthood had abandoned him as soon as he had lost the fight with Alexandra, calling for his death in battle as the rest of Trollmarket had. His entire life up until that point had been dedicated to training and making names for himself in order to be worthy of the title of Trollhunter or Trollhunter’s son, and within an instant, it was gone.

But he had not released himself from his banishment by his connection to the Trollhunter, either past or current. His new moniker of ‘Draal the Dedicated’ had been earned, not by his famous connections, but through his own steadfastness and loyalty. He earned his name and he honed his skills now for himself, and for the honor and safety of the people of Trollmarket.

Releasing himself from the weight of his father’s mantle was painful, but it was the pain of new skills learnt and of wounds healing, and though the lack of it felt empty in some ways it was remarkably freeing. He found himself untethered from a lifetime of expectation.

(It hurt in a different way, how this new Trollhunter interacted with him. He knew that she cared for him, that she worried for his safety and cared about his happiness and security – yet she did not distance herself for his sake, as his father had. She watched his back and trusted him to watch hers, and having that trust from someone who had been a relative stranger when Kanjigar himself had pushed Draal away burned like a slow, steady coal in his chest.)

Draal ducked a swipe to his face and countered by aiming at the Trollhunter’s legs. She jumped as best she could and grabbed at him, using one of his horns to swing herself around his back and kick him in the knee. He fell willingly and ducked into a roll; Alexandra did not let go quickly enough to avoid being pulled after him and was dragged along the side, laughing and cursing in the same instant. Draal whacked her with his staff and she head-butt him, probably ignorant (though it was difficult to tell, with her) that such a move was considered a flirt outside of battle.

(Kanjigar didn’t want Alexandra to get close to his son. Too bad, Draal supposed – his father couldn’t have everything he wanted.)

After their spar, Draal was dragged by the Trollhunter into a successful campaign of avoiding Blinkous for nearly a day and a half, which was more fun than Draal had anticipated, given the older troll’s inconvenient skill in showing up in unexpected places. Blinky was one of the few who ventured Upstairs simply for his own amusem*nt and curiosity, and over the centuries he had become extremely adept at both getting into areas he shouldn’t be in and not getting caught in areas he shouldn’t be in.

Alexandra could not avoid her Trollhunting duties, however, and she and occasionally Draal himself were called to settle several minor disputes and inconveniences. Draal was quite happy to be wanted by his people, and the Trollhunter shined within the minutiae of the occupation, welcoming every instance where she was needed even as they kept on the lookout for Blinky or AAARRRGGHH.

Draal was absolutely unused to sneaking around, so Alexandra framed the game as training, should they ever need to do reconnaissance without being found out. Draal was not made for being unobtrusive, but he was good at moving quietly, so between sparring sessions, various Trollhunting calls, and being forced again to see the healer, he and Alexandra managed to avoid her other trainers with only a few difficulties.

It was kind of funny though, when a good portion of ‘sneaking’ included simply hiding in their rooms and pretending not to be at home. They reasoned that healing was just as important as stealth training, and so spent many hours peacefully unconscious. Often Alexandra read as Draal slept; after their many battles, even a troll as hearty as he needed proper rest. The lack of true activity would have rankled, if the naps weren’t so nice.

On the second morning of their game, Draal lay curled against the wall of his room, the Hunter a heavy warmth in the crux of his knees as she pawed through the books strewn upon the bed.

“At some point you are going to have to talk to Blinkous,” Draal murmured, not even opening his eyes, one arm thrown across his face to block the light coming from the crystal lanterns.

Alexandra huffed, shuffling a scroll some amount of force.

“You are a grown adult.”
“Quiet from the peanut gallery,” his friend snapped. “Blinky isn’t threatening you with revealing your most dangerous secret to the leader of Trollmarket, who conveniently has the power to both banish me AND summon a tribunal on my ass. I’ve got enough to deal with without adding the complication of Vendel hating my guts and possibly exposing me to the entirety of Trollmarket, who would also hate my guts, while I’m trying to broker a deal with other Changelings and stop the stupid Bridge from being built for unleashing a cannibalistic Dark Lord.”
It was possibly the most words Draal had heard from her in one go, and more open than he was expecting. He realized with a pang that Alexandra was honestly, genuinely frightened. She had found friends, and acceptance, and purpose, and the possibility of it all being taken away scared her.

But Alexandra as he knew her faced fear by cursing in its face, stabbing it as hard as she could, and then setting it on fire for good measure, so what was the difference here?
Before he could ask, Alexandra shifted; he looked up to see her rise to a crouch, digging into a pocket of her shorts.

“sh*t, that reminds me…”
She took from her pocket one of the humans’ cellular devices, a semi-popular snack in Trollmarket. Draal himself liked the ones with the big glass fronts. She tapped it for a moment, and then it lit up, startling Draal with the bright glare.

“AAARRRGGHH was right that we need to get a move on,” she muttered, poking at it and making it flash. Draal had never been one for human technologies; too loud and too small.

Alexandra sat up and, to Draal’s astonishment, began talking to the air.

“Hey! Hey. Hello, I’m, um, what f*cking name should I use…”
“What in Kanjigar’s name are you doing, Trollhunter?” Draal asked, watching her as she murmured to herself.

“I can’t believe you actually invoke oaths using your father’s name. I’m making up a false identity to contact the Changeling’s leader with. Something-last-name-Hunter. T. Hunter? Miss Hunter? Trudy. Hello, my name’s Trudy Hunter. You know, I think my voice is too…”

The light from the cellphone faded, leaving them once more in the dim crystal-light. Draal watched Alexandra stare at her hands, idly tapping the darkened phone.

“Are you…alright – “
“I need to Change. My voice is rougher like this,” she said, very quietly.

Ah.

“I, erm. Should I…leave?”

She shook her head. Draal lay back, staring at the ceiling but unable to close his eyes completely. After a few tense moments there was another flare of light, and the weight against the back of his legs lessened considerably. The phone brightened again; Draal carefully looked over his chest, seeing only a vague human profile, outlined in light. She raised the cellphone to her face and said, in a bright but somewhat hesitant voice:

“Hello, um, my name’s Trudy Hunter, I’m calling for my uncle Walt? Yes. Yes, Walter Strickler, I’m his niece. No it’s okay, can you just give him my number? I lost my old phone and just wanted to give him my new number, would you mind? Thanks, I really appreciate it. Yeah. Oh, Trudy Hunter. Okay thank you, bye-bye.”

The phone’s light shut off as she deposited it back into her pocket, but she didn’t Change again.

Overcome with curiosity, Draal slowly sat up, shifting his legs until he was seated at her side.

He hadn’t really seen much during their fight with the wendigo, when she’d Changed to lure it into the box. The lighting wasn’t much better here, but he could still see more than before. When he’d moved to face her, she had closed her eyes.

She was forcing herself to stay still, he could tell. Her shoulders and neck were tight, her hands clenched around each other. This was the Alexandra he was growing accustomed to; allowing the fear to reach out to her, and not flinching at its face.

Brown eyes flared open when the back of his knuckles touched her temple, glaring at him even as her hands trembled minutely. A pulse of blue shone from her pocket; the amulet, reacting to her stress. The air in the room felt still and heavy, and the flesh of her cheek felt warm and soft.

Draal drew back momentarily before running a finger over the shortened hairs on her brow, careful not to poke her in the eye, glancing at her ears. They were just a bit pointed, one of the several more trollish characteristics he could notice, if he squinted.

The scar took center-stage, running across her human face as it did her trollish one, cutting over her left eye and leaving a white streak through the cornea, the pupil stained a milky grey. It was such a distinctive feature but still, he would have recognized her without it.

The tip of his finger made its way down to her jaw, almost of its own accord. Here the bone felt thicker; if she opened her mouth, would her teeth be larger, sharper? Her nose was off-center, the bridge crooked. Nomura’s face had been almost pristine; smooth and polished, not a hair out of place. Alexandra looked almost trollish while human, for reasons he could not fathom and was not going to ask.

The tiny hint of a pulse fluttered, quick and hard, through his fingertip as it hovered on the edge of her throat.

There was an impulse, brief but hot, to let his hand run down farther, to examine the differences between Nomura’s delicate, angular figure and Alexandra’s broad, hard frame. He caught himself; he was unsure, truly uncertain, whether he would prefer Alexandra to stop his hand or let him wander. The palm of his hand ached slightly, fingers wanting to uncurl and feel how much softer her hair was like this.

The pounding of fists upon the door startled both of them badly; Draal’s legs jerked and Alexandra flew to her feet, amulet in hand, before either of them realized what the noise was. Most unfortunately, their actions upset the pile of books on the bed, which fell to the floor loudly enough to alert their visitor.

“I know you are in there, you blasted woman, open this door! This is ridiculous!”
Alexandra pounced on Draal the moment he made to reply, throwing her hands across his mouth as she knelt on his chest.

Honestly, the game was beginning to get a little silly, but there was remarkably little that Draal felt he could do suddenly; still human-shaped, Alexandra had pushed him backward with her knees on either side of his chest, having to lay most of her torso across his neck and chin to cover his mouth. Her bandaged hands felt impossibly tiny on his face, and this close he could feel her breathing.

It was absurd; they’d certainly grappled before, and in tighter and more compromising positions than this – but it had been a very long time since he’d felt the warmth of a human body against his, and he was somewhat transfixed on the tickle of hair against his cheek and the quiver of muscle as she pressed down.

Blinky pounded the door again with all four fists, shouting more and more obscure curses to the heavy wood. Alexandra began to giggle into her fist.

Blinky continued in this vein for a solid five minutes, cursing the Hunter’s parentage, hygiene, and moral fiber. On impulse Draal slid a hand over Alexandra’s shortened torso and flipped over, as if to hide the Trollhunter beneath him. The weight only caused her to giggle harder, tears forming at the corners of her eyes in the struggle not to make noise.

Blinky finally gave up with a yell and stomped off, and Draal let Alexandra escape from underneath him and Change back to her trollish body with only a small pang of regret.

They spent the rest of the day in his rooms, studying and napping alternately, quietly discussing small bits of trollish history or culture that Alexandra hadn’t learned yet and comparing them to things the Hunter had experienced in her centuries Upstairs. Neither of them seemed to want to leave the room.

It was as if the Change from that morning had flipped a switch. Alexandra had revealed herself fully, finally, and when nothing bad had happened to her something gave, a previously unseen tension fading from every cell in her body.

The Changeling leader, Strickler, answered her summons later in the evening with a ‘text message’, asking for assurances and promises. Alexandra sent him a photograph and a pointed message, arranging to meet with him in three days’ passing.

Business settled and trainers successfully avoided for a second day, they both settled down for another well-deserved nap. Draal decided not to examine the warmth that curled in his chest when the Trollhunter nested down beside him, and determinately dropped off to sleep.

Their game ended on morning of the third day, when Alexandra finally bucked up and allowed Draal to drag her to the Forge again, the lack of true activity finally wearing on him. Beginning with a spar, Draal relished in the stretch and burn under his skin, throwing himself into the lesson with great enthusiasm.

After their spar he began to demonstrate defense against different types of weapons, having himself an absolutely wonderful time hitting the Trollhunter with every spear, mace, and pole-axe that he could get his hand on. It was even more fun when the Trollhunter managed to disarm him and hit him with it back.

After three days of not doing much physical training Draal had Alexandra run the most difficult drills he could think of, and watched with great pleasure as she sped through all of them, stumbling only minimally when forced to use her lower two arms. She was becoming quite a match for him in battle, and her fighting style was dirty as gnome-sh*t, enough so that he was learning a trick or two himself.

Their rest period had also allowed their injuries to heal nearly to completion, with the only exception being Alexandra’s palms, which still cracked and seemed somewhat painful. The long, fresh scars that raked across Draal’s chest ached as he stretched and lunged but it was a good pain, of new flesh knitting together and becoming whole, soon to become just another stitch in the tapestry of his life.

They gained watchers in the mid-morning, a few trolls who settled into the balconies for entertainment. Someone had evidently informed Blinky and AAARRRGGHH of their reappearance because both trolls peeked in through one of the side entrances after a while, the shorter of the two throwing up his arms when Alexandra pretended to have no idea what ‘puerile game of avoidance’ Blinky was yelling at her about. In respect to their audience he lowered his voice as they stepped into the arena.

“Am I to take it, then, that you are finally ready to continue our discussion?”

Alexandra spun away from Draal when he aimed a spear-head at her torso, countering it with a smack from her own blade.

“I’ve already contacted Stricklander. We’re meeting this weekend.”
“I was under the impression that you were not ready to meet with him unless you had something ‘concrete’ to offer. Has your position changed, then, about – “
“No.”

Draal stepped back when she swiped at him, ducking into a backward roll to avoid losing balance when Alex continued to advance.

“I’m not going to offer anything, I’m going to ask him what he wants. What he expects and what he demands will be the basis of our offers; we may believe that he’ll be swayed by amnesty but Strickler always has contingency plans. He may actually need something entirely different. I won’t play our hand without seeing his first.”

Blinkous actually seemed somewhat mollified by that suggestion. AAARRRGGHH nodded in agreement, and after exchanging a glance Blinky crossed his arms and stepped back.

“A worthwhile plan, Master Alexandra,” he said. “And…the other issue?”

Alexandra slowed, clenching her fist against her thigh. Draal pretended to examine the point of his spear as she deliberated.

“…I know we don’t have time, but just…hold off,” she said, quietly. “I know something has to be done. Just give me time.”

Blinky didn’t have anything to say after that. He and AAARRRGGHH settled themselves on the side of the arena, quietly talking as Draal and Alexandra continued their training.

After a while, the watchers began making themselves useful by shouting moves and defense sets for Drall and Alexandra to practice. Bringing staff and sword together, Draal started to demonstrate a complex movement that would relieve an opponent of their weapon, only to be interrupted by a call much more jarring than the rest.

“Trollhunter!”

Everything paused – Alexandra actually froze in place – when Vendel slowly stomped into the Forge, a tiny whelp clinging to one shoulder.

Draal lowered his spear and Alexandra mirrored him, both watching silently until Vendel crossed the floor.

“You are needed, Trollhunter,” he said softly. The bright orange whelp on his shoulder looked out with one eye. Draal vaguely recognized it, but wasn’t familiar with the child.

Vendel stopped, grabbed the whelp by its flame-colored scruff, and dangled it out to Alexandra until she banished her armor and took it.
“Um.”

“Jaela has passed,” Vendel rumbled. “Sellah’s current guardians are not willing to take on a whelp full-time. Her father’s father lives in the Chimeria Heartstone. Get to it.”

Draal watched as Alexandra, who had more or less ignored everything Vendel said the minute the child was plopped in her hands, began to panic.

“Wait. Wait, Vendel, what? Her guardians can’t just – “
“They are temporary, Trollhunter,” Vendel said, pausing only briefly as he walked away. “They were friends of her parents, but are not under obligation to keep the child if they do not so wish. I have contacted her grandfather and he and his clan are willing to have her. What would you like me to do, send her on the gyre by herself?”
The Trollhunter shuffled the tiny whelp a bit, letting her climb her face until the silent child was settled between her left horn and her cheek, a thin, snake-like tail curling around the horn.

“And you can’t take her yourself?”

Vendel harrumphed and said no more. They watched his retreating back until he was gone.

The whelp, apparently familiar with Alexandra, looked around with dazed curiosity. Alexandra seemed to be debating with herself, her lower jaw twitching in a tic that she had not expressed in months.

Across the Forge, AAARRRGGHH gently nudged his friend; Blinky looked up at him in confusion until AAARRRGGHH nodded at the Trollhunter, arching a brow. Blinky’s eyes widened and he stepped forward with a cough.

“Er, Master Alexandra, if you would prefer, AAARRRGGHH and I would certainly be more than willing to – “
“No,” Alexandra said, taking a step back. A hand automatically went up to balance the whelp before she fell from the sudden movement. She shifted and began to rock slowly, gently petting the whelp’s head as it buried into her shoulder. Draal watched in open amazement; he had never seen the Trollhunter look so unguarded, her movements instinctual and uncalculated. It was a different gentleness than how she was with her cats, or with himself, when it was late and quiet.

“Sellah can stay with me until tomorrow, my hands should be completely fine with one last session. Then we’ll take the gyre to Lake Havasu in the morning. The Chimeria Heartstone is in Turkey, if I remember right?”

“It is, Master Alexandra. If you would prefer to take the whelp yourself then I see no issue, but I would ask that AAARRRGGHH and myself still accompany you.”
“Hate gyre,” murmured AAARRRGGHH under his breath.

“I will remain to look after Trollmarket,” said Draal hastily, glad to be the one left behind. He didn’t have anything against whelps, specifically – he just wasn’t particularly familiar with them. The first and last Trollhunting adventure he’d been on had seen him nearly cleaved in two by a wendigo; staying at home would guarantee an avoidance of undead demons and babies alike. Probably.

Alexandra seemed content enough with that, promptly leaving all of them behind as she gently carried the whelp away. Draal could hear her murmuring assurances as she cross the bridge toward Trollmarket.

Blinky came up beside him as he began replacing the weapons they had sparred with.

“She contacted the Changeling leader? Truly?”

Draal nodded assent, rolling his shoulders as the three of them began to leave together.

“Yes, with a ‘text message’. She also sent him a photograph of a rude hand gesture.”
“...She gets cellular service down here? No, nevermind,” Blinky said when Draal looked confused. “It’s enough that contact has been made and the ball rolling, as the saying goes. We will deal with this once our current mission is complete. Draal, if you’ll excuse us…”
With a friendly wave from AAARRRGGHH the pair departed, leaving Draal in the middle of Trollmarket, hungry from his exertions and desperately hoping that Alexandra was taking the whelp back to her own rooms. Not needed for anything and left to his own devices, he quickly scurried up some lunch and began making his rounds among his people, until had someone had need for Draal the Dedicated.

Chapter 22

Chapter Text

“As one grows older one should grow more expert at finding beauty in unexpected places, in deserts and even in towns, in ordinary human faces and among wild weeds.”
―C. C. Vyvyan

The Trollhunter’s recently bandaged hands made carrying things difficult, but she still seemed determined to tote around the little orange whelp as they made preparations for their journey, peering at Blinky’s hoard of supplies while she rocked a dozing Sellah.

“Is there anything we’ll need to prepare for? It’ll be a lengthier trip, this time,” asked the Trollhunter quietly.

Blinky reached over the spread of supplies that AAARRRGGHH had helpfully dumped across his library table and unfolded a thick sheath of paper, peering at it at arm’s length; Vendel’s hands were notoriously steady with anything except a stylus, and though Blinky was one of the few able to read his writing he still found it rather difficult.

Alexandra watched him expectantly as he moved the map closer and farther from his face, occasionally turning it both over and upside-down.

“There is one issue that we shall have to navigate,” Blinky finally managed to parse. “The Parisian gyre tunnels have flooded completely. They are the most direct line to the Heartstone in Turkey and given that several other routes have been affected by flooding as well, we may as well stay with the shortest one. There is a temporary tunnel for travelers to walk until they can reach intact tracks. It will increase travelling time, but it may be the only option at this point in the repair efforts.”

“So we will have an even longer trip…”
Blinky re-folded the map as Alex tapped her fingers on her thigh.

“We may need to depart a bit earlier. I’ve got an appointment to keep Saturday noon, if possible.”

“If we stay on schedule, this may take most of the day. I suggest we begin no later than midnight tonight,” said Blinky.
“I need to make a quick run Upstairs then. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

AAARRRGGHH ducked his head to allow Alexandra to transfer the whelp to his hairy shoulder, where she curled into his mane just as Draal had done when he was a child.

Alexandra returned from Upstairs in a little over an hour, and they left with minimal fuss a tiny bit after ten in the evening.

The gyre trip to Arizona and the London Bridge progressed the same as it had on their previous venture, though they did not stay in London for more than a half-hour, pausing only for a snack and a diaper change before taking another gyre on the route to the Paris underground.

AAARRRGGHH had flattened himself against the back seat and Blinky had to feel rather sorry for his friend; he could have made the trip with Alexandra by himself, of course, but in the wake of the polymorphic Changeling debacle neither troll was enthusiastic about being away from the other for an extended period of time, and so along AAARRRGGHH came, nausea and all.

Alexandra kept little Sellah calm and unafraid by holding the baby nestled under her chin, singing a tuneless song to distract her. Blinky had to wonder at her familiarity with the whelp. Had she tended to children before, in her human life? Humans were so prolific and child-rearing was so traditionally pushed upon the fairer sex that Blinky could easily imagine it so, although Alexandra as he knew her would have been one of the last people he would have guessed to be happy to babysit.

Being part of an older, larger, and more extensive network mean that the European and Asian gyres travelled somewhat slower, allowing their passengers to more easily stop at waysides and admire the geography and artistry put into the tunnels and tracks. The paths shifted and turned as they sped along, changing from the sparkling London clay to the chalk and limestone of Dover, to the quiet route that ran under the English Channel. From then they entered the extensive cave systems under Normandy, which branched out to various parts of France and from then, to Spain and the rest of Europe. Blinky kept them on the main route to Paris.

The collapsed tunnel approached suddenly: Blinky hauled on the breaks just in time to avoid smashing them against a wall of cracked boulders half-submerged in filthy water. The gyre wobbled, then stopped.

“Ah, Master Alexandra? It appears that we have reached our roadblock,” Blinky said, leaning over the controls to look.

The entire gyre tunnel was caved in, glowing ‘Danger!’ signs dotted over the blockage and shimmering in the floodwater. To the left was a large, crude channel, obviously bored with some haste. The group disembarked their gyre and took the tunnel as it led through a dripping cave system closer to the surface, occasionally having to climb on AAARRRGGHH’s shoulders to avoid shallow pools of water. The way was not easy; AAARRRGGHH especially had a difficult time, both in fitting through the narrow tunnels and with walking on the damp, unsteady floor.

“According to my map, the flood damages stretch throughout the entire city. The temporary tunnel will take us to the other side, with a small detour around the actual occupied catacombs. Apparently the Parisian underground has become quite the tourist destination.”
Alexandra adjusted the child in her arms, walking in silence for several minutes.

“How long will it take to walk the whole tunnel?”
“According to Vendel, about nine and three-quarter hours.”

The Trollhunter sighed and kept walking. Blinky stayed close to AAARRRGGHH, watching how the vivid neon light from distantly-placed troll-signs bounced on the oddly luminescent limestone that the city above was well known for. At sparse intervals, tiny grates had been cut into the ceiling, angled to allow travelers to see if it were night or day without actually having the sunlight directly enter the tunnel.

They encountered nearly no one for over an hour, only seeing one extremely bored-looking vendor at the outskirts of Paris city. Alexandra handed over some of her many cat-wares and bought everyone lunch, thanking the vendor in passable French.

Whereas Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were content to walk in silence, Alexandra occupied the whelp by telling stories. The whelp – and the two other adults as well - listened with wide eyes to tales of vast oceans and grassy plains filled with hairy buffalo, of trees taller than mountains and rain through the leaves of a forest, of a fox hunting in a snowy field, of what sunlight looked like when dancing over water. Blinky noticed that few of her stories contained any people, probably because the characters would most likely be human.

Once they were just under the city, the noises of the traffic and construction above began echoing through the sparse grates through layers of rock and floodwater. Alexandra followed the trollsigns to an access tunnel that led to the surface, where she then handed young Sellah to Blinky.
“I’m going to rent a truck,” she said, to Blinky’s utter astonishment. “If it’s going to take all day to get through a bunch of janky tunnels we may as well drive.”

“But! Master Alexandra, it is daylight. Do you know where to go? Have you the correct currency? I understand the walk may be tedious, but – “

“Ten hours, plus the five or so for the gyre trips and the London Bridge and so on, won’t be too bad for us but Sellah is a baby. A long trip away from a Heartstone or any blood relatives of hers may not damage her permanently but still can’t be healthy. We can probably make it in under two hours if we drive. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Alexandra continued to ignore Blinky’s half-hearted protests (for he truly was gaining excitement at the prospect of having a real automobile adventure) and bent down to nuzzle Sellah’s head, gently nudging the youngling’s chin before climbing out of the tunnel with a flash of crackling green light that Blinky only just remembered to shield the whelp’s gaze from. He turned back in time to see a boot-clad human leg withdraw, before she sealed the door to the tunnel behind her.

AAARRRGGHH rumbled, smiling as he settled down on the damp floor for a nap. Blinky watched the entrance for a few moments more before giving in and sitting down next to him, adjusting Sellah so that she nestled within AAARRRGGHH’s mane. He pulled a novel from one pocket but only played with the pages, hardly bothering to open it.

“While I appreciate her confidence, I am not quite used to her assertiveness. It almost makes me long for her first days as Trollhunter, when she deferred to us on every little matter.”

His dear friend apparently found the sentiment rather amusing.

“Shyness, fear,” he said ponderously. “People-pleasing, fear. Take charge, no fear.”

As usual, AAARRRGGHH always knew exactly how to say it.

“I believe your point hits, as it were, the nail on the head. She deferred to us out of dread that any major disagreement would cause suspicion or turn us against her. Ironic, is it not, that the more trust she shows the more argumentative and bold she becomes?”

AAARRRGGHH pillowed his head onto his folded arms, shifting until he could tuck his knees against Blinky’s legs.

“Bold safe now. Secret out, friends still here. Safe to be Alexandra.”

In truth, it reminded Blinky of AAARRRGGHH’s first century as an ex Gumm-Gumm, when he had worked very hard to hold back any negative emotion and tried to do whatever anyone told him, for fear of reprisal if he were at all obstreperous. It was not a comparison that Blinky enjoyed making, and the thought kept him up until Alexandra finally returned, a flash of green light the only herald of her arrival.

The Trollhunter dropped into the tunnel, rooting through AAARRRGGHH’s hair to find where Sellah had buried herself. The whelp protested at the removal but settled when the Trollhunter allowed her to use her own navy-colored hair as an alternate blanket. Her feet and hands were soaked with water.

“We’re going to have to backtrack a bit. I parked the truck in a more secluded area. We need to move, I don’t want the sun to get too high.”

She then hurried then up and ushered them back down the tunnel, jogging at a fair clip to another surface access a half-mile away. Water on the other side of the hidden door made opening it a challenge; AAARRRGGHH held it open for Blinky, who only had a brief moment to glimpse a dark, cobblestone alleyway, their portion of it covered in brown water that rose nearly to Blinky’s knees. Directly in front of the tunnel door gaped the open back of a windowless van, just barely wide enough to fit AAARRRGGHH and lined with a few soft blankets. The alleyway was otherwise deserted, but on the tops of the surrounding buildings the daylight gleamed bright, and the windows above made Blinky nervous. He hastily climbed into the van, squeezing himself against the grate separating the back from the cab in order to make room for AAARRRGGHH. It was the work of a few short moments, between opening the door, piling three trolls and a Changeling into a truck, and sealing the entrance to the tunnels again, the door seamlessly blending into the rest of the wall. Blinky felt a jolt, then a rumble of the engine; a suddenly human (human!) Alexandra opened the grate and handed Sellah to Blinky once more, who numbly settled the whelp on a nest of blankets that had to have been placed there just for her. She quickly closed the grate without looking at him or AAARRRGGHH.

And then they were off, continuing on their mission in a way that never could have happened with any other Trollhunter.

The sounds of traffic were only vaguely muffled by the walls of the van, and Blinky was quickly able to determine when they were driving on dry ground versus driving through water. It wasn’t the automobile experience that he had always dreamed of, but for a first time it was enjoyable enough. AAARRRGGHH did better with the slower speed and gentler turns, but he still was not a fan of being trapped inside a moving object, and so lay down flat on the floor, one hand braced on the wall with his back pressed against the other side. There really wasn’t much room with him, and so Blinky settled atop his friend’s shoulder, leaning against the grate so that he could peek out at the streets beyond. Alexandra was kind enough to warn him of upcoming patches of sunlight.

Blinky had known, of course, for quite a while now of Alexandra’s Changeling nature. Had discovered it, in fact. It was known. But there was a distinct difference between knowing and seeing, and witnessing the human face of their Trollhunter for the very first time jarred him, to say the least.

He dealt with his unease in the typical way.

“Paris, you know, has been famous for its floods. Why, in the Great Flood of 1910, the river Seine rose nearly thirty feet, overcoming large parts of the city for over a week. And did you know that the luminescent limestone that attributes to the city’s fair name, La Ville Lumière, has a unique mixture of marine sedimentary deposits and is a very appealing building material among the human population above?”

Thrown off course by the events of the past hour, Blinky inevitably began to ramble.

“As there is no nearby Heartstone, trolls only visit Paris for its gypsum mining and its enormous amount of refuse, although there is a population of gnolls – surface-dwelling collectors and traders – who actually inhabit the city itself.”
“Are they not bothered by sunlight?” Alexandra asked, making a very gentle right turn. Blinky subtly peered through the grate, examining the minor differences between her normal voice and the one affected now. It really sounded only a little bit softer, no change to the depth or pitch. Alexandra glanced back and Blinky hastily turned around.

“Er, not particularly, no,” he said, adjusting Sellah’s blankets absently. She really had been a very good whelp, content to sit or lay wherever placed, though he noticed that she had moved so as to be settled once again within AAARRRGGHH’s immense mane of hair. “The gnolls cover themselves with every article of debris they can find, until a large portion of it is adhered to their living stone. Sunlight does not bother them simply because no actual body parts are ever truly exposed to it.”
“Huh,” was the only response. Blinky couldn’t help himself, and peeked again. She had a somewhat brutish face for a human woman, large of jaw and angular in the planes. The many breakages in her nose were evident, and the scar from Bular’s blade, already horrific on her trollish visage, looked even worse when stretched across human skin.

She took a sip from a paper cup that smelled of a mild tea, moving her jaw in a familiar tic, as if unsettled by the lack of proper trollish teeth, though he did notice somewhat of an underbite.

“How’s Sellah,” Alexandra asked, after a solid twenty minutes spent in tense silence as Blinky didn’t bother to pretend that he wasn’t examining her and Alexandra herself stalwartly refused to shy from his study. Blinky glanced down to make sure that the whelp was still sleeping, which she was, curled within her blankets and half-hidden in AAARRRGGHH’s hair. Alexandra had tucked a snack of glass shards in a matchbox into the blankets, which the quiet whelp had munched on before going to sleep.

“You seem…remarkably comfortable looking after the whelp, I must say,” Blinky murmured. The Trollhunter craned to looked back at the little nest, her face still and almost relaxed. Silence reigned for a very long time again before she spoke, but Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were both very, very patient trolls. Or – Blinky was. AAARRRGGHH was very nearly asleep; he had never cared for the drama and inner lives of other people, firmly believing their business to be theirs and his to be his. Blinky, who wanted to know everything and could hardly rest until he discovered every secret, found it to be a most admirable and confusing trait. While AAARRRGGHH was content to let Master Alexandra have her secrets, if they did no harm, Blinky was nearly driven insane, especially since she was finally offering up the tiniest tidbits here and there, far and wide. Mostly to Draal, but still. He hoped he’d get another little detail from her now.

After several minutes of what looked like quiet contemplation, Alexandra finally sighed and grumbled without looking at him, taking a swig from her cup of tea.

Blinky, out of decency, pretended to be absorbed with his book, but he watched with one eye as she drove, occasionally signaling to turn or stop. It was even longer that she sat in silence, until Blinky almost believed that she would drive the entire way without answering him.

“I’ve looked after a lot of children over the years,” she – at long, long last – whispered. “It was expected. A married woman would take care of her children, and an unmarried woman would look after others’. Human customs have changed in recent years, somewhat. I was…I always enjoyed taking care of the kids.”

She took a sip of her tea, munching quietly on the teabag, allowing the soggy leaves to spill into the water.

“It shows,” Blinky said gently. “Your care over Sellah is admirable.”

The Trollhunter fiddled with her cup, tapping at it with her scarred but surprisingly dainty hands. Blinky looked over at AAARRRGGHH, who appeared more ‘sleeping’ than ‘pretending’ at the moment, before slowly unlatching the grate and placing a hand on her shoulder, mindful of the sunlight angling through the window. The muscle jumped under his hand; a reaction he knew she would never have allowed herself to display before he’d learned her truth.

“You do not owe me the depths of your heart, Master Alexandra,” he said. “Secrecy about some things has caused us danger, yes; but you are allowed the details of your past. I will leave you be.”

“No, it’s fine,” she replied. “It’s not a real secret. I just don’t want to talk about it.”
She toyed with her tea a moment longer before draining the cup and eating it. Blinky felt a brief flare of triumph at her display of more trollish appetite, until she turned the truck down a side street and parked it.

“I’m going outside to get a few things,” Alexandra said, quietly talking over his attempt to stop her. “I’ll be back in a half-hour or so.”
“I will, er. Keep watch, then – “

She was already gone, doors locked with a click. Blinky attempted to enjoy his book, curled into AAARRRGGHH’s solid warmth with one eye on the partition and one eye on the child. Alexandra returned in fifteen minutes, and tossed a tiny rectangle at him.

“A cellular device? What possible use could I have for one of these?”

Leaning through the partition, Alexandra took it gently and turned it on.
“Don’t eat it, they’re handy. See the little letter icon down at the bottom? Send me a text, here, this is my number…”
Blinky amused himself with the phone for the next hour, until the sun was high and his eyes itchy, teaching himself how to send messages and how to call; discovering the Internet and apparently one could just? Research things? Instantly? He changed the ringtones twenty different times on his and Alexandra’s phones until he was satisfied; and he finally, finally, found the origin of a song fragment he had heard from the other side of a sewer grate. It was absolutely fascinating, if somewhat tedious to navigate with such a small screen and a rather patchy cell signal, and Blinky, who had always been rather talented with devices and mechanisms alike, tap-tap-tapped away until he fell asleep, the soft repetition of ‘two bros chilling in a hot tub’ echoing until Alexandra finally reached back to snatch up the phone and turned it off again.

Vendel’s map led them to a golf course beyond the reach of the swollen Seine, where the Trollhunter parked on an empty tree-covered street and quickly shooed them down a storm drain, the outside of the grate graffitied with trollish symbols. The tunnel below was, thankfully, dry and clean. They paused briefly for a diaper-change before walking twenty minutes or so to the temporary gyre station.
Alexandra seemed relieved to be back in her trollish skin and took Sellah in her four arms, still wrapped in a blanket to ward off the chill.

The gyre was waiting for them when they arrived, and without a backward glance the four were off to their destination, hurtling under France and Slovenia before making a sharp right at the Bulgarian turn-off and sliding into the polished marble tunnels under the Sea of Marmara. From there it was a straight-shot to Yanartaş in the Antalya province of Turkey, and the troll population within the mountain.

The end of the gyre line was marked by a vast portico of carved limestone, delineated from the tunnel walls by the intricacy of columns and arches that surrounded the gate. Like in Arcadia, trollsigns lit the interior of the domed cavern, but the colors did not flash and clash with each other in the same way; rather, the light bounced gracefully between arches, settling artfully among the carvings. AAARRRGGHH and Alexandra disembarked with wide eyes, admiring the effect as Blinky did as they stood before the gate and requested entry. A guard bid them welcome after Alexandra explained their purpose, having been warned previously of their arrival, and let them in.

The Turkish Heartstone of Chimeria was truly beautiful; a magnificent specimen of multi-colored diaspore crystal, the colors of which changed from pink to orange to pale green as they moved throughout the caves and arcades surrounding it. The grey caverns were carved very delicately for trollkind, supported by innumerable thin columns and towering arches and lit by countless technicolor lamps and lanterns, in both trollish design and in the more modern styles of the human cultures above, all of which dotted the walls and ceilings with glowing spots of color. At the base of the Heartstone, fire burned from multiple open vents, heating and lighting the cavern and the hallways that wound around it. The effect was utterly stunning and Blinky was immensely glad of his six eyes, able to take in multiple views at once. AAARRRGGHH looked around in open amazement, stopping at many points to study the pattern cast by a lamp or warming his fingers against a natural flame that sprouted from the ground, something that vendors and homeowners within the Heartstone made ready use of for cooking and craft-work.

Blinky observed his companion’s awe with a searing fondness. Arcadia was known for many things, but its beauty lay mostly in the Heartstone, not the art or architecture, and the Darklands weren’t exactly the height of artfulness. AAARRRGGHH’s tastes were commonly comfortable and simplistic, but Blinky wondered if a deeper part of him marveled at the expression of light and color intuitively. They really weren’t that far from AAARRRGGHH’s own Heartstone. The Krubera caves from which he hailed were darker than any other, lit only minimally by the natural luminescence of the Heartstone and the trolls within, distinct patterns of color shining within the black. AAARRRGGHH’s quarters in Trollmarket were much the same; darker than usual, lit only by a few colorful crystals and bioluminescent algae formed into swirling patterns. Blinky decided then that he was returning home with a pretty lamp or two, to give to his friend.

The air was more fragrant than what Blinky was accustomed to and he recognized with a pleased start that several vendors were making sweets and coffee – good, trollish coffee, as favored as the Upstairs equivalent, and which the scholar had enjoyed many times but not since moving to the United States. He hoped that Alexandra would be in a mood to stay for an extra hour or so, to sample the hospitality.

The Chimeria trolls were warm and vibrant in complexion, ranging from dark red to yellow to the occasional pale blue, most with manes around their heads and shoulders and sprouting a thin, winding tail from their lithe bodies. Blinky and Alexandra stood out, with their very boxy, upright and many-limbed torsos, and there were many whispers as the group made their way through the caverns, particularly when their precious cargo became visible.

Sellah, Blinky noticed, had emerged from Alexandra’s hair to stare at the Heartstone in open incredulity, even climbing down to reach for it from the Trollhunter’s arms, the most animation he had seen from the child yet. It made his hearts reach for his own Heartstone, which he had not seen since his early adulthood. Though the crystal in Arcadia was one of the largest and most powerful in the world, no other Heartstone could compare to that of a troll’s original clan, a call that the whelp appeared to be experiencing. Both of her parents had hailed from Chimeria Heartstone, and it called to her as strongly as Arcadia’s stone did.

The elder of Chimeria Heartstone welcomed them to a tall dark antechamber, where Sellah’s paternal grandparents were waiting to greet her. Sadness showed on their faces, but their voices were warm and arms gentle and loving as the Trollhunter carefully transferred the tiny whelp to their care. She immediately clung to her grandmother, burying her face in the older troll’s hair with a soft series of chirrups. Alexandra stepped back to rejoin Blinky and AAARRRGGHH without hesitation and he watched as she chatted with the family, offering condolences and comforts in a soft voice before saying goodbye to the whelp with a nuzzle, and turning to talk to the elder.

Blinky was happy to hang back and watch with AAARRRGGHH, ready to step in should Alexandra make a cultural faux-pas or hint at things she shouldn’t, but the Trollhunter performed her roll with confidence. Blinky was quite aware of how nervous she was, having grown used to looking for her few tells, but she let nothing show. She was the model of a caring, patient Trollhunter, and Blinky couldn’t help but feel pleased at how she had grown into her roll in such a short amount of time.

They were invited – how lovely! – to chat over coffee, a stiffer and more bitter brew than what the humans enjoyed. Blinky quite relished the ceremony of it, exchanging the latest announcements and information with the elder’s second, who was the record-keeper for Chimeria. The job was notorious for drawing gossips and Blinky was no exception, so as AAARRRGGHH gently spoke with Alexandra and Taylan, the elder, Blinky confirmed various births and deaths and prodded a bit for information on shady or interesting happenings.

The eternal flames that sprouted all over the interior of the mountain were also evident on the exterior, and drew people from all over the world. When a human stopped to examine or brew tea or cook a small treat on one of the flames that sprouted from the ground, one of the Chimeria archivists inside would do the same, sharing the company and ceremony in secret and listening to the conversations as the humans walked around, before relaying their findings to the record-keeper. It was an information-gathering system unique to Chimeria and Blinky wondered if he ever could do similar once they returned home; watching and listening from the grates and manholes without fear of injury or death via Bular. As one of the few trolls in Arcadia with human interests Blinky doubted the usefulness beyond personal curiosity, but the idea was interesting. Perhaps if he employed a network of gnomes…

Blinky and the record-keeper, Beren, amused themselves with the potential of gnomes as spies and information-gatherers until Alexandra tapped Blinky on the shoulder, apparently ready to go. Blinky said his goodbyes amid a frantic scramble to get to the vendors in the market outside, and after a mild delay they set off again, laden only by two colorful lamps, a hamper of delicious foodstuffs, several scrolls and books, and one very large rolled-up tapestry carpet that AAARRRGGHH had to carry himself, but in Blinky’s defense, imports were expensive and really, when his large companion had kept running his hands over the fabrics as they passed the stalls, how was a troll to resist?

Plus, Alexandra was paying.

With the difference in time zones working in their favor, barely, Alexandra was just able to keep her appointment with the Changeling leader, Strickler. Now aware of their pathways and modes of transportation, Blinky was more able to enjoy the car trip, especially since Alexandra was a bit more inclined to speed, given that their precious cargo had been delivered to her family. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH only waited a short time for Alexandra to return the rented truck before she came barreling into the gyre tunnel still in her human skin, Changing as they sped away toward London.

Blinky was glad of the sudden shift in the Trollhunter’s covert nature, but he was not entirely comfortable with it yet; the Otherness, the feeling of distrust and separation toward Changelings had faded with acquaintance but not disappeared, and having her binary nature displayed so suddenly and openly was disconcerting to him. He drew his comfort once more from AAARRRGGHH, ever steady and unflappable, and resolved to school himself more thoroughly, researching what he could in the confines of his library, though he truly wasn’t certain whether the writings he had available on Changelings were going to be negatively biased or not. Before now, it had never been a concern.

Alexandra hopped off the gyre as soon as they were on familiar ground, patting AAARRRGGHH on the arm as he unsteadily disembarked, and immediately began to head down the tunnel.

“You know how to reach me if something pops up,” she called back. Blinky, four arms laden with his prizes, had AAARRRGGH dig the horngazel out of his pocket and open the gateway to Trollmarket. Just inside were two guards, who tapped both trolls with a gaggletack and inspected their packages. Blinky waved a finger, and the doorway disappeared, leaving Alexandra behind in the darkness of the tunnel, the glow of her amulet vanishing as the entrance closed.

Walter Strickler picked up the kettle and made his tea; cream, no sugar, with a small slice of lemon. Lawrence often accused him of being a tea snob as he chugged down the black tar that passed as coffee from the godawful machine in the breakroom, but out of all the teachers at Arcadia High the actual title of snob went to Uhl, who only drank one specific brand of imported coffee and was so picky about his tea that he actually had his relatives in Austria send him a local blend. Strickler, who had been around and about the world for centuries and had racked up the tastes that such mileage afforded, was not nearly as particular, but he still preferred his own way of making it. Tea-time in the mid-morning between classes was one of his favorite parts of the school day, even when it was interrupted by the front office receptionist.

“Mr. Strickler?” said Ms. Broadstaff, a mostly-competent but ultimately useless young woman who served as the primary note-taker and appointment-maker of the head office. “A call came in for you, from a young lady.”

Strickler sipped at his tea and stood, taking the sticky note out of her hand. Nomura had his cell number, he knew, she kept sending him obnoxious pictures of sliced and rotten avocados. Who was it this time? Gladys?

“Thank you, Ms. Broadstaff. Did the young lady mention her name?”
Ms. Broadstaff fiddled with her glasses.

“She said that she was your niece. She lost her phone and wanted to give you her new number. A Miss Trudy Hunter?”
Hunter.

Hunter.

The hand on the teacup did not shake, did not. He couldn’t allow himself to have a reaction, despite the sliver of ice that slipped down his spine. The Trollhunter had made contact. And she knew where he worked.

Strickler thanked the receptionist again and removed himself to his private office, cursing the rest of the school day as he stuffed the sticky note into the inside pocket of his coat and gathered his things for his next class. He’d have to wait the whole day to reach out to her and then what? He hadn’t expected contact so soon. The little piece of paper felt like a burning coal in his jacket, searing his skin for the rest of the day. Even if it was stolen or found on him, there was no name on it, nothing to indicate his treachery. But still it burned.

Strickler waited, patient as a rock, until school was finally released, until he’d safely parked his car, until he was locked inside his house, until he had closed the door to his office and locked that too, before taking out his phone and carefully adding the phone number to his contacts, under the sobriquet of ‘Pest Control’. He sat in his office chair, staring at the blank contact for ten minutes, utterly unable to think of anything to say.

He hated this. Despite the ball, as the saying went, being in his court, the controlling partner in this situation was quite firmly the Trollhunter, and not Strickler himself. Whatever they discussed or did not discuss, whatever was decided or undecided, Strickler had no hand over her, nothing to use in his favor except, perhaps, information, which would only be useful for him if she didn’t already have it. He didn’t know her identity; he didn’t know how deep she had been in the Janus Order, or what information she already possessed, or what she would demand from him.

And yes, he was rather a man of action, ready and willing to go forth with his plans, but. It was so soon. He’d barely had time to even get his thoughts and feelings in order, much less start acting on the very, very dangerous conclusion to, er. Commit treason. Gently. This was stupid. What was he to say?

Heavily debating the merits of finding an opening salvo in the bottom of a wine glass, Strickler typed in,

[I suppose I have you to blame for the recent disappearance of our many-faced acquaintance.]

He then shoved the phone into this pocket and made himself a cup of very strong tea, shuffling restlessly around his kitchen, the cold stone in his stomach turning away any thoughts of dinner. He hated this, and wasn’t that a juvenile thought, worthy of any of his adolescent students? He hated many things, and dealt with them with grace and aplomb as was befitting his station –

The phone chimed and he nearly dropped the teacup, fingers fumbling in his pocket.

>>{I’m afraid that their body will not be among the others. Their antics rather spooked my protectorate and as such their remains were very thoroughly destroyed. Hope you weren’t too fond of them.}

Strickler understood the statement. Otto’s actions in Trollmarket, whatever they were, must have caused a lot of paranoia, and any new attack would be dealt with swiftly and brutally. The ‘hope you weren’t too fond of them’ was an opening for Strickler to distance himself.

[I assure you that he was not under any order to remain behind. His actions, and the consequences thereof, are his own.

I believe you wanted to talk to me.]

It was a weak attempt to get back control of the situation, but Strickler had to try. He didn’t like the notion of being under the Trollhunter’s hand just as he was under Gunmar’s, and partially under Bular’s, for all that he had some authority to push the brute around.

>>{Given your schedule, Saturday noon at the outlook to the east of town should suffice for us both.}

[That will do], he typed. [I hardly think that I need to impress upon you the importance of absolute secrecy in terms of this meeting.]

Strickler let out a breath. They would meet in a bright, sunny place where absolutely no trolls could accompany them, secluded enough that they wouldn’t be interrupted. A prime location for a secret talk. Or an assassination.

The phone chimed while he’d been staring at the wall, and as he looked down his breath stopped.

It was a well-lit photograph of the side of a troll – Draal, the previous Trollhunter’s son, if he could guess by the blue color and crystal inclusions – superimposed by a hand clad in Trollhunter armor that was lovingly flipping Strickler the bird.

A human hand.

I’ll do as I like, the image implied, under the astonishing display of a troll’s knowledge of a Changeling Trollhunter. If Draal knew she was a Changeling, it was likely that the other two seen with her -Blinky and AAARRRGGHH – did as well. Where did it stop? Did it stop? Did Trollmarket’s elder, Vendel, know? Did the entirety of Trollmarket?

Strickler stared at the picture for a long, long time, as the light from his office window slowly dimmed into the night, until he was left in a dark house, the only illumination coming from an impossible photograph on the screen of a phone.

He committed the picture and the conversation to memory before finally dumping his cold, untouched tea down the sink and deleting the entire exchange. There was much to consider.

Damn. He hated this.

“I’m coming,” said Nomura the second Strickler told her he’d made contact. He had stopped by her house after school the next day, under the guise of discussing Janus Order business, given that she was now his second-in-command. She lived close enough to the museum that they didn’t need his car, and they walked at a companionable distance along the main thoroughfare, heading toward what was becoming a routine venue.

Strickler took the moment to consider it. Nomura, as a former trainer in the Darklands, would have a higher chance of recognizing their Trollhunter. Most Changelings were trained under her. It was a good idea, if only the Trollhunter would go for it.

“Well, she didn’t mention that I should come alone,” he murmured. “Although such a courtesy is usually implied.”

“Just ask,” Nomura snarled, pretending to examine a well-dressed mannequin outside a storefront. She fiddled with the gauzy scarf, watching it fall between her fingers. “I’ll even stay by the car. The worst she can do is say no, and then we’ll just hook you up with a wiretap so that I can see later.”

Strickler held back his remark on Nomura’s mention of a wiretap, given her general incompetence with modern technology, and took his cell phone from his pocket before she could dig it out with her sharp little fingers herself. It would comfort him to have a second, even if it was someone as prickly as Nomura. But Strickler had centuries upon centuries of dealing with prickly and difficult people on a daily basis, and Nomura was small potatoes in comparison to others.

[I should like to bring my second-in-command], Strickler typed to his new contact, as Nomura dropped the scarf and they began to walk again. [They have agreed to remain at a distance but wish to see for themself the veracity of your claims.]

Finally arriving at Benoit’s, Nomura claimed their usual table just as it was being cleaned up (they now had a usual table, oh dear) and ordered for them both, not just tea but a light meal as well. Strickler would be annoyed at her presumption if she hadn’t known his tastes so well.

He occupied himself by people-watching, as usual, noting the patterns and rhythms of the town around him. The table in front of him held an elderly couple, regulars that he saw in town often; the old man had a distinct limp, and carried a cane. At the food truck on the corner was a tall woman toting several shopping bags, struggling to adjust them as she carried away her boxed lunch and fountain drink. Across the street two youths with colorful hair examined a box of discount LPs set outside of the music store, the girl laughing as the boy hip-bumped her. All quiet, all serene, all perfectly normal and oblivious, as it should be. Usually people-watching relaxed him, as it was a simple mental exercise that nonetheless expanded his knowledge and understanding of his surroundings, but lately everything just felt off. Like seeing a tree grow upside down, or biting into something normally hot and finding it cold. Anything could be wrong, anything could be different, and suddenly Strickler couldn’t see it.

Their tea and sandwiches arrived just before his phone pinged.

>>{Tell Nomura she’s welcome to come, so long as she keeps her scimitars to herself.}

Nomura apparently thought that Strickler’s stress was funny, because she grabbed his phone as he choked.

“Well, well, well – the Trollhunter knows more than we think,” she said as he snatched it back. “This is good. I’ve trained more Changelings than you have – if she’s in her troll form, I’ll know it.”

Strickler pocketed the phone and turned to his late lunch to avoid having to agree. It pinged again, just as he’d gotten his fingers all greasy.

The next message was accompanied by another photograph, this one just as startling as the one from last night.

A close-up shot of Strickler himself, biting inelegantly into his ham-and-cheese, with Nomura across from him glaring into her teacup. It was bright, cheerful, and clearly had been taken fifteen seconds ago.

>>{Enjoy your sandwiches. I’ll see you Saturday.}

Strickler and Nomura arrived at the outlook at a quarter to eleven on the bright, sunny Saturday morning, having bid Bular a good rest (perhaps not in so many words) and indulging in a light breakfast of tea and tension at their now-regular restaurant. The goblins were snoozing, their Dark Prince was passed out face-down in his nest at the museum, and they were about to commit high treason by meeting peacefully with the Trollhunter.

All in all, not the worst Saturday that Strickler had ever endured, but it was probably going to make the top-ten list.

He parked his car in the shade but not out of sight, wanting to look open and receptive even as he scoped out the treeline for the most viable hiding spot. The Trollhunter would surely show early, in order to do the same spying that he and Nomura were doing, although Nomura’s idea of watching for their guest apparently consisted of stealing the driver’s seat and hanging out the window like a bored child.

Strickler conducted himself with dignity, and firmly planted his arse in a shrubbery. It had an excellent vantage point of the hill leading up to the cliff, and the back was covered by the hideous garbage container that had been dumped into the clearing years previous in hopes of halting the accumulation of litter left by drunk and canoodling bar-hoppers. Normura just sneered at him.

The other point of hiding in the bushes was to give himself privacy, and by the Pale Lady he needed a moment to relax. Yes, Strickler had met with shady businessmen and corrupt politicians and violent mobsters and PTA mothers all without breaking a sweat, but that had been in the service of their Dark Underlord (mostly) and therefore had very little chance of ending up with his head bitten off (…mostly).

It was different. Even though Strickler had been casually undermining Gunmar’s control for years, building up his own power and forging connections for his own disposal, actually meeting. With. The. Trollunter - !

At exactly 11:59am the Trollhunter walked boldly into the clearing, standing in the open with relaxed arms and watchful eyes. Stricklander observed her from his hiding place, under no illusion that she did not know where he was and what he was doing. She had remained in her troll form – most likely to keep her human face a secret, with the bonus point of having a physical upper hand. It was jarring to see a Trollhunter, fully-clad and utterly trollish, appearing in broad sunlight.

Her stance was open and her face unperturbed, no weapons in her hands – a deliberate flex. I am unbothered by you, her posture said, I am not threatened. I have nothing to fear here, unlike yourself.

She was of a somewhat unconventional form. Most prospective Changeling whelps were taken from clans that more closely resembled humans, to avoid too much complication and depersonalization between bodies. Troll and human anatomy were different enough without adding extra limbs or eyes, and this Changeling had both, a highly unusual choice. Stricklander had no memory of such a strange form being part of his horde, but with the number of Changelings that came and went over the centuries he could hardly be expected to remember everyone, particularly since he had usually delegated the more mundane meetings and check-ins to a lesser contact. The mark of the Darklands, however, was clear in her fierce appearance, in the subtle changes that made her look just a little bit different. Whatever she was, whoever she had been, Stricklander wasn’t afraid of her.

Not a bit.

Nomura, who had been occupied with the goblins during the attack on Trollmarket and had managed to escape before the rest of them were captured, hadn’t had a good look at the Trollhunter then. She sat demurely in the driver’s seat, calm as anything, but Strickler was counting on her skills in observation. Her eyes tracked every movement the Trollhunter made, watching the other woman as a cat would a flittering bird.

The Trollhunter gave her a little wave as she walked past the car.

“Lovely as ever, Nomura,” she said, in a low, unaccented voice. “Strickler, is it necessary?”
Strickler, who had emerged from the trees the instant her three working eyes were turned away, huffed and brushed off his coat.

“You’ll forgive me my caution, I’m sure,” he said with a grimace. “You have us at a certain disadvantage, as I know you know.”

“Quite well,” the Hunter replied pleasantly. “I’d rather just get into it. Gunmar is terrible, yada yada, everybody’s been hit with a clue-by-four and so on, let’s figure something out. What are your expectations, Waltolomew?”

Just beneath his left eye, Strickler felt a nerve began to pulse. Negotiations were supposed to be rather subtler than this.
“I should like full immunity for myself and any of my Changeling brethren who decide to abandon Gunmar,” he stated. “And protection in the case of retaliation, from both the loyalists and Bular himself.”

Behind them, Nomura hissed quietly.

“Anticipated. And what would our assurance be, that the defectors were genuine? My protectorate are distrustful of Changelings for a reason.”
“What would you like us to do, parade ourselves to your trolls so that they might identify any spies?”
“I was thinking a piece of the Killahead Bridge, each.”
There was silence upon the hill. Strickler himself felt mildly electrified.
“Are you mad?”

“The Bridge is nearly complete, I’m aware. It’s in everybody’s interest that it remain incomplete.”
“Bular won’t simply accept that suddenly rebuilding had been delayed, especially since he’s privy to your nature. He’ll begin to suspect us of siding with you!”

Strickler was gesturing now, beginning to pace as his temperature rose. Was she totally oblivious to the risks he was taking?
“And what would happen if everybody simply…left? You and Nomura leave town and abandon him, kill the goblins or take them with you, I don’t care. How far do the cracks go, and how many are willing to break away?”
“You must understand that I simply cannot get that information with just a simple phone call, I can’t just go up to every Changeling in the city and ask them on their feelings toward defection – “
“I wouldn’t trust their answers anyway. It would be better for-“

From the Trollhunter’s pocket suddenly rang:

<IS THERE ANYTHING BETTER THAN puss*? YES! A REALLY GOOD BOOK!>

The Trollhunter slapped a hand to her hip, frantically digging for a cell phone.

“Excuse, I need to take this – “

<IS THERE ANYTHING BETTER THAN puss*? YES! A REALLY GOOD - >

“Blinky, I’m busy.”

There was a tinny sound of frantic speaking. Strickler, watching as the Hunter backed away a few paces, had the interesting experience of seeing all of the blood drain from her face, turning it an ashy shade of turquoise. He’d give almost anything to be able to hear what Blinkous Galadrigal was saying that spooked the blasted woman so badly, though Strickler reluctantly had to admire how her hands and voice did not shake.

“Thank you for telling me. Delay them for another hour, I’ll be back soon.”

She hung up and waved to Strickler, already turning to go. No! They weren’t finished! He hadn’t even had time to inquire about the Changeling bodies still moldering in Trollmarket’s basem*nt, she couldn’t be leaving yet!

“Duty calls. We’ll talk more later. You have my number, if anything comes up.”

“Hold on – “
The Hunter nodded to Nomura, who merely flashed her eyes in return, and then she disappeared in a burst of blue light. Nomura startled, banging her elbow on the steering wheel.

“They can teleport now?” she hissed.
Strickler was already getting a headache.

Chapter 23

Chapter Text

The hour’s delay was made up on the spot but it was a good idea, because Alexandra took that hour and ran.

“Vendel contacted the Dùnriya Heartstone in Wales to inquire about you. They sent a delegation; they’re asking for you now.”

Blinky’s phone call ricocheted inside her skull like the ringing of a church bell, chiming her doom. She teleported halfway down the hillside, stumbled, scraped her hand and face, and started running.

“Vendel contacted…”

Trees and boulders blurred into smudges of dull color, dirt and pebbles from the path down slipping under her boots. Run, run, run.

“…The Dùnriya Heartstone…”

She shed her trollish skin in a desperate burst of light, teleporting from the tree line to the narrow alleyway behind the electronics store, and then squeezed herself through the gap, and ran.

“…in Wales…”

This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening, not now, not now, oh God –

“…to inquire about you…”

Her lungs burned but everything felt cold, from the sweat rising from her skin to the teardrops spilling across her face. There were so many ways that it could all fall apart.

People on the sidewalk jumped out of her way; lunchtime traffic did not, and when she darted across the street a teal-colored car clipped her hip, knocking her into a fall that she rolled up from and she kept running, her right thigh aching down to the bone. She ignored the yells of alarm, and ran.

“…They sent a delegation…”

Blinky didn’t say how many, or who, but it didn’t matter. Her story had depended on nobody actually asking questions, on nobody investigating too deeply, on nobody from her goddamn birthstone showing up in Trollmarket to come and visit and ask her about her origins. It didn’t matter that she would look different than the last time they’d seen her - older and scarred. It didn’t matter that she was the Trollhunter now. She’d dug further; there were only three children from her clan that were listed dead between four and three-hundred years ago; one from sickness, one from sunlight, and one from an unexplained ‘accident’. Only the last was female; only the last had no interment record. It didn’t matter that she claimed to be born to clanless parents, bereft of a Heartstone - the whole story was mist; a mirage; baseless and unable to be proven. Any scrap of her birthstone would call to her, and she couldn’t physically hide which clan she hailed from. She’d spent her whole life running away from the things that threatened her and it came so naturally once more, but for the first time in her life, she could run as far as possible but she couldn’t outrun the weight of her lies finally falling down around her like so many dominos, like posts under the heavy hit of a mallet, like nails driving deeper, deeper, deeper into the coffin she’d built herself.

“…they’re asking for you now.”

Alexandra ran until she started to cough bloody phlegm; her eyes filled with static, and with one last push she teleported to the outside of the gyre chamber and collapsed against the wall, Changing as she fell.

There was another gyre there, older and smaller. It may as well have been the pale horse of Death. On the barest edge of her senses, she felt a faint humming, the same as she’d felt on their trip to Bath.

Alexandra shook against the wall for a while, trying to get some feeling back into her hands. The left one was covered in red, red blood and she angrily scrubbed at it with a handkerchief, spitting on it to wet it before attacking the cut on her face similarly; when both were cleaned of human scent and fluids she screwed up her eyes and swallowed the bloody rag. Alex pat herself down and ran a hand through her hair, dusting the debris from the tunnel off of her shorts and vest. She straightened up, and then her right leg crumpled under her.

Oh that’s right, minor vehicular injury.

Her claws gouged holes in the wall as she wrenched herself upright, paused to swallow a scream, and then teleported, appearing on the other side of the gyre entrance in full Trollhunter regalia.

The guards shied back from her sudden appearance and she offered them a playful smirk, hiding all four shaking hands behind her back.

“Sorry about that, fellas, I’m in a bit of a hurry. What’s this I’m hearing about a delegation?”
The shorter of the two, Bolus, glanced at his companion before clearing his throat.

“Four representatives of Dùnriya Heartstone just showed up an hour ago, Trollhunter. They’re probably with Vendel now if you want to see them.”
Alexandra pretended to listen. Teleporting three longer distances in a row was incredibly draining; running so hard for nearly an hour and then stopping without cooling down made the world feel like it was rushing away from her and she had to swallow back the instinct to throw up. Her head throbbed; her hearts beat like drums in her ears; her hair hid the injury to her face; the armor hid the cut on her arm but scraped it with every move and her hands would not. Stop. Shaking.

“I believe I do, thank you. Bolus, Tarlow – keep it up.”

The guards straightened and she left them to it, grinding her teeth to pebbles as she forced herself to walk toward the Heartstone without a trace of a limp. Her f*cking hip felt like it was on fire.

Twenty feet from the gyre entrance and she had to give up; with a final wrench she summoned the last of her reserves and teleported to her rooms, deep within the residential areas. Her knees slammed on the cold ground, followed by her hands, followed by her elbows, and she vomited onto the floor.

They were going to know, they were going to find out, Blinky couldn’t lie to save his life, let alone hers. And she was too shaky and too hurt right now to fight.

Alex wiped her mouth and half-crawled to the tiny bathroom inside her quarters, the quarters that she’d taken from a dead troll, her deceased predecessor who was watching her from the damn netherworld as she shook, leaning against the sink to throw up again. She stood, hands gripping the stone basin, just working to control her breath. It was a fight, a true fight, to force away the black creeping into the edges of her vision.

It had been a very, very long time since Alexandra opened herself to prayer, but as she slid down the wall and puddled onto the floor she did, and she wept.

The Daylight Armor offered only minimal support for her hip and thigh, so Alexandra scarfed down two pain potions before heading off to the Heartstone, where Vendel most likely was keeping their guests. It felt like ground glass was coating her hip joint, but the half-hour she’d taken to pause and gather herself had helped her regain her composure enough to just f*cking fake it. In a fit of paranoia Alexandra also silenced her phone and rigged it with duct-tape, ready to stick somewhere out of sight to record any discussions after she left whatever doomed meeting she was about to walk into.

It helped that Blinky, AAARRRGGHH, and Draal were waiting for her across the bridge. The three looked distinctly uncomfortable, Blinky wringing his hands together while the other two shifted on their feet.

“Ah, Master Alexandra,” said Blinky slowly. “I, er. I’m terribly sorry, this was a completely unexpected visitation – “
“I’m aware,” said Alexandra, somewhat hoarsely. She coughed, tasting something metallic in her mouth, then swallowed and continued. “We’ll just…go in. I don’t have a plan of action here, to be totally honest. I don’t think I can ask you to lie for me.”
“I…truly did not intend for you to discuss certain issues with Vendel in this fashion.”

Alexandra turned away and began walking again, unable to bear the waiting any further, even though she wanted nothing more than to get as far away from Trollmarket as she possibly could. The humming under her skin felt louder now; it was pleasant and welcoming, but by God did it ache.

“It had to happen,” Alexandra said, eventually, as much as she didn’t want to mean it. “You were right about that. No circ*mstances would ever have been ideal or perfectly planned. Let’s just…go.”

Draal silently fell into step beside her. His presence jabbed a sharp spike of warmth into her hearts and she willed her hands to stay still enough to gently squeeze his elbow. Behind her, a gust of air alerted her to AAARRRGGHH’s wall of mass, steadily holding up the rear, not herding her forward but guarding her back. And on her other side, eyeing her with trepidation, Blinky quietly walked, and for the first time that Alexandra could remember she actually felt completely, utterly supported. It was heady enough to straighten her back, and she stepped into the Heartstone, ‘with heart and mind prepared’.

Vendel stood around his cleared workbench/torture table with four trolls of varying height, each sporting four arms and four eyes. The tallest was somber in appearance, hands clasped behind her as she stood still and calm, her eyes a stark black against the dusty violet of her arms and face. Alexandra’s eye clocked several neatly tucked-away knives on her belt; she was most likely a guard.

The shortest and clear eldest was a dark turquoise in color, with tufts of silvery hair emerging from his ears that matched his pointed sideburns. His horns were gnarled and dulled with age, and his top right hand was missing all but the pointer finger and thumb. His eyes were sharp, however, and Alexandra assessed him to be an archivist or historian, a job possibly shared by the other female of the group, a much-younger troll with her sheet of green hair pushed back behind an iron headband, her nose only just emerging from a scroll as the group entered.

The last troll gave Alexandra pause, because she felt the barest recognition at the haggard appearance of his mouth; unusually toothy even for a troll, with an overgrown canine pushing down even as the usual two tusks jutted from his lips. She knew him by the color of his hair, too, because it was the same shade of cobalt as her own. Her hearts, beating so wildly that she was sure her companions could hear them, sank. In his hand stood a staff of shining sea-green crystal, and by just looking at it Alexandra felt something inside of her clench like the ache of a phantom limb.

Vendel was looking somewhat aggrieved; he approached the coming group and gestured a hand toward Alex.

“My friends, may I introduce our burgeoning Trollhunter: Alexandra Velius, daughter of Asphodelus.”

The eldest of the delegation cracked a grin.

“Well met, Trollhunter,” he said in a light, papery voice. “No epithet yet? How unusual; these Arcadia trolls ordinarily assign one at the slightest provocation.”

Alexandra strode forward and bowed her head to him.

“I’ve tried to get them to use ‘Alexandra the Amazing’, but they simply won’t go for it,” she said. “As long as it’s not ‘Abysmal’, I’ll be happy.”
The ancient troll, only as tall as the middle of her chest, laughed with the creak of old wood.

“From what old Vendel has said, I doubt that will be the moniker chosen. I have with me my assistant, Carrocaer, and I am Rollo, son of Seneca, Dùnriya Heartstone’s senior historian.”

Alexandra thought that Rollo calling Vendel ‘old’ was rather bold, given how frail he looked, and then her brain stumbled through the fog of panic in her mind to slap her in the face.

Rollo, son of Seneca, was her maternal grandfather.

She smiled kindly at the two historians as she tried not to throw up again.

The leader of the Dùnriya Heartstone pressed a gray hand to his chest as he stepped forward.

“I am Gruffudd, son of Drusus,” he said in a raspy, lilting accent. “With me is our finest warrior, Catorri.”
He continued his approach and began to circle Alexandra, forcing her companions to move back a bit.

“When Vendel contacted us about a lost member of our clan, I was not sure of his claim; our record-keeping is unparalleled, as Rollo will inform you.”
Alexandra refused to flinch, relaxing her hands by sheer force of will and standing in an easy lean.

“I don’t blame you for not having me on record,” she said quietly. “My parents, I believe, were paranoid and probably more than a little mad. They refused contact with the outside world whenever possible.”

“There is no record of an ‘Asphodelus’, I’ll mention. Was it just the two of you, in the human underground?”

Gruffudd’s voice was not accusatory, she noted, blinking spots from her eyes. That one tiny thing gave her a grain of hope; maybe, just maybe, she might actually pull this off. She took care to keep her lower hands, the five-fingered ones, clasped respectfully behind her back.

“Not when I was a very young child,” Alexandra said, walking over to the wall and pulling up a bench for Rollo to use. She palmed her phone and quietly stuck the duct-tape side to the bottom of the bench. Rollo settled onto it with the help of a black stone staff and his assistant, thanking them both with a chuckle.

“There was another family with us when I was very young: two adults and another child. They all faded and died as my father did, I must have been, oh, maybe twenty. I actually don’t remember their names.”
“Did your mother ever say why she was keeping you in a sewer?”

Blinky’s wide eyes, she noticed, were ping-ponging back and forth between her and Gruffudd, hands twisting anxiously in front of his chest.

“I was discouraged from asking questions,” Alexandra replied, furiously trying to make up an entire childhood on the spot. “Any topic outside of daily survival was forbidden.”

Carrocaer was writing on the scroll with both her left hands. She tucked her pen behind her ear and showed the scroll to Rollo.

“Ah, thank you, yes. When Vendel contacted us, young Trollhunter, he mentioned that while in a feverish state you spoke in Welsh. Are you fluent?”
Alexandra forced herself to nod calmly. Vendel was pushing himself to the very top of her sh*t-list.

“It was the primary language we used, English being the second. We rarely used Trollish.”
Rollo nodded his head, tapping what was left of his fingers on his crystal staff.

“And what was your meaning when you said ‘Doeddwn i ddim yn golygu. Byddaf yn gwneud yn well. Peidiwch â gadael iddyn nhw fynd â fi i ffwrdd’. Was that the incentive to never ask questions?”

Behind them, Blinky softly translated for Draal and AAARRRGGHH. Vendel had shuffled over to them and was now murmuring something to Blinky. He’s dead, Alex thought viciously. Vendel is dead, dead, dead. She didn’t remember ever saying that but the words slipped an icy finger down her spine.

“It was,” she replied. “If I were too rowdy or disobedient, I was told that something or someone would take me away. If true, honestly, it probably would have been better, but as a child the notion was terrifying enough to make me behave.”
Rollo shook his head with a grimace.

“What irresponsibility, to forbid a child from asking about their world. I suppose you left as soon as you could, then?”

Alexandra paused – the very picture of innocent hesitation.

“Not…immediately, I admit. I had begun sneaking out and exploring for a while, though I avoided contact when I possibly could. I was probably a bit past my two-hundredth year when I left for the last time, a bit after my mother died.”

“Your mother – she faded?”
Alexandra nodded. “She had never been particularly healthy; as the others passed she took on more and more of the supply runs and the maintenance of our dwelling, but by the time I turned about fifty most of the chores fell to me. She didn’t have energy for much, beside singing or storytelling or checking the security of the tunnels. One evening she simply didn’t wake, and she passed a few days later.”

There was no damn way she was going to remember all of this later – she’d have to ask Blinky to help her write it down, for all the good it would do.

The archivist Carrocaer, she noticed, certainly was doing just that.

Gruffudd was watching her as she spoke; his face was impassive, unreadable.

“The Heartstone I carry – you can feel it, can’t you?”

Alexandra wasn’t able to answer before Gruffudd simply stepped into her space and held the staff out, nearly dropping it into Alexandra’s hands. She reached to catch it automatically, a bright pulse under her skin horrified at the notion of letting it fall. When it touched her gloves her hands ached like they’d been submerged in ice water and boiling lava at the same time, and yet it didn’t hurt. Her hearts lurched and, to her utmost horror, she couldn’t hold back the tears. A single wretched sob burbled from her throat as something pushed past her composure, grabbing her in a white-hot embrace; Gruffudd’s single hand steadying the staff was the only thing that kept her on her feet, as much as she wanted to just sink to the floor, hold the crystal against her face, and die of embarrassment.

There was no possible way for her to lie – he’d feel it, connected to the Heartstone as most leaders were.

“It aches,” she whispered. He was close enough that he heard the strangled words.

“No troll is meant to separate from their Heartstone,” said Gruffudd, not unkindly. “Or live so long away from one. They are what gives us life, a light in our hearts as in our eyes. Without one, most trolls will fade into cold stone, as if they had never been. For you to survive so long without its warmth…”

“Quite remarkable,” piped Rollo, where he watched pensively from his bench. “Vendel has said you have thrived here.”
I’m going to murder Vendel. Alexandra spared a hand to wipe her face. f*cking honesty hour it was, she supposed.

“I, uh. Mmm. I hadn’t realized how cold I’d felt, before coming here. Vendel and the others have been exceedingly patient and kind to me as I’ve, uh. Learned.”

She finished rather lamely, but Gruffudd smiled gently as he finally pulled the Heartstone staff away. The humming in her chest only barely abated.

Behind her, AAARRRGGHH let out an enormous and extremely fake yawn, prompting Blinky to clear his throat.
“Er, on that note, Vendel, Gruffudd – perhaps the remainder of this could wait until our Trollhunter has had time to rest and refresh herself? We have just gotten back from a rather lengthy expedition, you see, and I, for one, would like to discuss a few items with you, Rollo – after a brief respite, if you don’t mind.”

Blinky’s announcement brought with it a genuine yawn from AAARRRGGHH, who then spread it to Alexandra. The panic had abated slightly, and the further it slipped away the more she remembered that she was, in fact, exhausted as f*ck, and in a certain amount of pain.

“Oh of course, Blinky,” Rollo said with a smile. He leaned forward and pat Alexandra’s hand oh god she had the lower ones in full view and motioned her toward the door. “We can continue this discussion tomorrow; I’m sure you have questions for us as well. For now let’s just rest – I know I wouldn’t mind turning in.”

Alexandra nodded absently and said polite goodbyes to all present, unable to judge if the ‘kindly grandfather’ vibe that rolled off of Rollo like mist was genuine or not. Blinky was already pulling her away and she allowed herself to be led, remembering only at the last moment to not limp and to carefully tuck her lower hands away from the myriad eyes behind her.

Vendel followed them out of the Heartstone only long enough to threaten Alexandra toward the Healing Dwell, having noticed, somehow, that she was injured. And then he left, and Alex was standing in the middle of the empty bridge with Draal, Blinky, and AAARRRGGHH all staring at her with concern.

“I’ll…walk you to the Healing Dwell,” said Draal. He eyeballed the other two and they quietly retreated; AAARRRGGHH briefly pat her shoulder, which would be sweet if Alex was able to concentrate on anything.

A broad blue hand shoved up under her armpit and she was pressed to Draal’s side, content to let him support her. Her mind felt like it was filled with cotton and bees, heavy and stinging and clouded.

She wanted to tell him, but she couldn’t. Draal was a terrible liar and asking him to pretend that she wasn’t daughter and granddaughter to two of the Dùnriya delegation would be asking for trouble. But she wanted to tell him, and that was something, she supposed. The big emotions would have to wait until she was less tired and had a functional hip.

Pottlebot the healer was in a bad mood already, which thankfully expedited the process, since she was too crabby to worry about being gentle. Draal pocketed the healing potions they were given and limped Alexandra back to her room.

The part of her that wanted to be left alone was given absolutely no choice; Draal shut the door behind him as he nudged her off his shoulder. She lay down and her hip burst into pinpricks of flame to remind her again that, oh yeah, she’d gotten hit by a car. Wonderful.

Draal jumped when Alex dug sharp fingers in his pocket for a pain potion. She wanted to ask him what he’d been up to while she’d been gone, but as soon as she downed the potion a wave of exhaustion hit her like a train, and she fell back onto the bed, conscious just long enough to watch as Draal silently picked up a book and settled in.

“Is there anything better than puss*?” Waltolomew Stricklander asked with a grin, while Blinky waved A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore, Volume 16 in the air behind him, the only volume with a blue binding because Blinky had accidentally spilled a drink on it once.

“Yes, a really good book!” he said, as Stricklander played the synth piano.

Alexandra blinked in the darkness of the room, fully awake in an instant.

She was never taking three pain potions in a row again, if that was the quality of the medicated dreams they produced.

Draal was nowhere to be seen, though his book was still face-down on the chair. Alex flopped herself off of the nest until she could assume a vaguely upright position, and then chugged another healing potion, rubbing a very soothing ointment over her hip and thigh. She took a moment to transform her lower half to see the damage and, yes, her thigh was an angry mess of mottled red and purple. In troll form it was a darker shade, and just as swollen and stiff. Trying to get her phone out of the Heartstone was going to be difficult, until Alexandra realized, after twenty minutes of trying to figure out how to get across Trollmarket without visibly limping, that absolutely everyone and their pet gnome was more accustomed to seeing her injured than not, and at this point would probably take a hale, healthy Alexandra as an ill omen.

Her track record for injuries within the past several months was worse than the past centuries, and it would have been disheartening if only she didn’t find it useful in that exact moment.

She continued about her business as normal, stopping for a quick meal as the Heartstone began to wake up in the sunset hours. As a rule, trolls didn’t sleep as much as humans, but many still bedded down during the day. A location like Trollmarket, with its array of visitors and pilgrims coming at all hours, never truly slept, but from dawn to dusk it was just a little bit quieter.

Her hip ached as she puttered about, making inquiries and conversations.

The Dùnriya delegation were staying in the northern caves, she found out, and out of the four of them only Rollo and Catorri had ever visited, and neither of them for decades.

As she made her rounds she paid visit to Jaela’s body, which had been interred in the Silent Keep with the rest, waiting for final rites. Alexandra stopped by on her way to Vendel’s and performed them quietly, sending the woman’s spirit away with assurances that her death had been avenged, and her daughter was being cared for. Troll funeral rites were not dramatic nor extensive, even for community leaders or renowned warriors. Alex wasn’t sure how much of that had to do with trolls’ somewhat glorified view of death, or their sometimes morbid views on life. Both were considered grand adventures, and the ending of the first did not necessarily mean that the second was a tragedy, particularly if the ending was rather grand and honorable.

Alexandra did not expect to find Vendel in the Heartstone at such an ‘early’ hour, particularly since he had been up all day welcoming the delegation, but there he was, patiently describing the properties of the gigantic gemstone to Carrocaer, the junior archivist.

Both Vendel and Carrocaer looked up as Alexandra arrived, a bit worse for wear but better than when they’d last seen her. She greeted Vendel quietly and smiled at Carrocaer, who was looking at her with unabashed curiosity.

“It’s a magnificent Heartstone, I have to say,” Alexandra commented. “I’ve visited two others, and this one has been the brightest and most welcoming of them all.”

Vendel straightened from his slight hunch, preening a bit at the praise; as leader of Trollmarket, his duties included tending to the crystal and assuring its continued health and power. There was a strange look in his eye as Alexandra approached, but Alex ignored it to focus on Carrocaer, who was writing in her scroll.

She held the paper before Alexandra: What other Heartstones have you visited? What was most striking about them? What did they feel like?

Alexandra leaned against the table and considered her answer, trying to look as personable as possible while half her mind was figuring out how to get her damn phone back.

“The first I visited was the Isarnan Heartstone, up near the Great Lakes of this country. I don’t know what type of crystal it was, but it was a very deep red, and the effect it made in the cavern of black stone was what struck me the most. They produce thousands of iron totems and charms in that clan, and the glow of the crystal against the black stone and shining iron decorations made it seem like the cavern was glittering. I honestly didn’t feel much from that Heartstone.”
Carrocaer nodded, watching Alex avidly as she scribbled everything down. Alexandra belatedly noticed that most of her green coloration was, in fact, a covering of soft, fine moss, including her hair.

Behind her, Vendel was eyeing Alexandra’s hip, and when she pushed herself off of the table and sank on to the bench with a muffled groan, he rolled his eyes and strolled away, no doubt to find her something for her injury, despite having bullied her to the Healing Dwell just hours before.

Alexandra leaned her top arms against her knees, letting the bottom ones hang freely. Once Carrocaer looked down, she’d grab the phone.

“The Chimeria Heartstone, which Blinky, AAARRRGGHH, and I just returned from, was even more beautiful; it’s a diaspore crystal, I think, and it changed color as we walked around it. The cavern itself was the most stunning; the stone was carved so beautifully, and in many places there are everlasting fires burning, so that the whole cavern seems to glow and move. The abundance of color and the glow of it all was the most striking to me but I didn’t really feel much from that crystal either, although there was a small feeling of welcome.”

The notebook was turned around: But you feel attachment to the Heartstone here?

Alexandra nodded tiredly and looked up as Vendel stomped his way toward the two; he delicately handed Alex a small sliver of amber crystal, which she swiftly pressed against her bruised hip. Vendel nodded, his milky eyes wandering across her limbs before snorting and retreating into the Heartstone once again.

Weird. Was he feeling guilty for narcing on her? Unlikely, but…

The piece of crystal was warm in her hand, and Alexandra drew enough strength from it to keep smiling.

“When I first arrived, it felt like a…like a broken part of me had been twisted loose, and then put back in the proper place. I had never felt anything more welcoming, deep in my hearts.”
Until last night?
The mention of her home crystal swelled a lump in Alexandra’s throat unexpectedly; she just nodded. Carrocaer had the grace to look away, and Alex took the opportunity to shuffle her feet and pick at the duct tape sticking to the phone.

A shuffle at the entrance of the Heartstone was her saving grace, and in the noise and distraction she pried the phone loose and stuffed it into her pocket. At the doorway trudged Blinky, who had so many papers and scrolls in his arms that he was making a tremendous racket trying to carry them all without dropping them.

He huffed in aggravation before spotting the two other trolls and stomping between them, unceremoniously dumping his documents onto the exam table.

“Ah, Master Alexandra, good to see you well, I trust? Carrocaer, although I applaud your drive for knowledge and research, I will encourage you in the future to simply write me and ask me to send you what you wish to read; there is no possible way that we will be able to sort through all of this by the time of your leaving!”

Alexandra took the opportunity for what it was a stood, holding out a hand for Carrocaer to grasp.

“I’d better be heading back, but if you ever want to chat, I’m always open for you,” she said gently. Carrocaer stared at her for a moment before firmly grasping her arm and smiling.

Vendel bustled back at that moment and began berating Blinky for the mess, which gave Alex the needed moment to extract herself. She walked calmly to the entrance, and set and easy pace to her rooms.

Alexandra forced herself not the clench her hand, where it was wrapped around the phone burning a hole in her pocket. She carefully dodged around the crowd, not stopping to chat and avoiding anybody who looked like they might want to stop her. She ducked into the residential hallways and quickly shut herself within her rooms, pausing for a moment to lean against the door. The phone felt like a brick against her leg.

The lamps were dim and Alex did not light them. As if the ghosts of her first life couldn’t find her in the dark – as if everything wouldn’t need to be faced, if only she couldn’t see it. She plugged the phone into its charger and settled into the corner of her bed, eyes closed against the darkness while she waited for the device to boot up.

Light tickled her eyelids and she opened the recording app, pressing play on the only file.

“There was another family with us when I was very young,” the recording began. Alexandra closed her eyes again and leaned back against the wall, listening to the story she had fabricated on the spot. For an impromptu performance by an injured woman doing her best not to vomit in terror it was reasonably decent, if a bit thin in some areas.

“And what was your meaning when you said ‘Doeddwn i ddim yn golygu. Byddaf yn gwneud yn well. Peidiwch â gadael iddyn nhw fynd â fi i ffwrdd’. Was that the incentive to never ask questions?”

‘I didn't mean to. I will do better. Don't let them take me away' Alexandra had utterly no memory of saying that – it probably had happened in the middle of one of her fever-dreams, likely when Vendel had been keeping her prisoner in the Heartstone to heal. What a horrifying thing to say, to hear, to misinterpret.

The recording continued on.

“The Heartstone I carry – you can feel it, can’t you?”

There was a moment of soft sobbing – quite wretched to hear second-hand. In the tinny recording her distant, oblivious father sounded no less kind than he had originally. She listened to herself stumble through just a little bit more, before Blinky saved her from further embarrassment.

The sound of Vendel’s staff thudded into silence as he walked past-Alexandra and her companions out of the Heartstone, and Alex-in-the-present pricked her ears toward the phone.

“Well,” said Rollo quietly, with another creaky little laugh. “Either she’s missed a call in the performing arts or we’ve got an incredible series of mysteries to investigate. I’m not sure which I’d prefer.”
“A liar is a liar, no matter how pitiable the circ*mstances.” That must have been Catorri, who had a higher voice than Alexandra would have anticipated.
“Yes, but could you imagine the conspiracy if she actually were telling the truth? Blinkous must be having a fit.”
“Mmm.” Gruffudd, there.
“Still,” Rollo continued, damning Alex with every word he spoke. “The simplest answer is usually the most likely, and the simplest is that she’s falsified everything, for whatever purpose.”
“Dare I ask what bloody human novel you ripped that saying from?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“I would not, actually. And this all bodes ill.”
There was a moment of silence, presumably as they all contemplated the ill boding.

“Did…did you happen to notice her coloration?”
Gruffudd again, this time. Another pause.

“Hard to see her hair beneath the helmet,” said Rollo, slowly, like he was chewing on the words. “You cannot possibly – “
“I can as much as you do. Vendel claimed her to be a little under four-hundred. What if…what if she weren’t…what if she was just taken? By some random madwoman to raise inside a sewer, instead of what we assumed.”
Gruffudd apparently couldn’t say the words; could not admit out loud, that his eldest child had been stolen to become a Changeling. Alexandra ground her teeth, a sour taste in her mouth.

“She is the Trollhunter, I’ll grant,” Rollo replied. “In light of that, her claim may actually be honest.”
It rankled – even though she’d thought the same, at first. Because of course a Changeling could never be allowed to ascend to such a sacred office. It was a petty and bitter thought, for all that Alexandra knew it to be a universal opinion, rather than a personal fault of Rollo’s. But still, it stung.

“We’ll be here a few days yet,” Rollo continued. “Perhaps we could meet more casually. You can have a closer look yourself, and Carrocaer and I can get to know her better. She seems like a polite young thing, in any case.”

Alexandra was never taking her armor off again, ever. There wasn’t anything short of pure bleach that would change a troll’s hair color, and the damage and smell that would remain would be too obvious. And then Vendel…

…Alexandra was going to murder Vendel…

…Vendel would probably point out the changes, the damned snitch.

So yeah, armor. Never removing it.

A gently increasing thunk-thunk-thunk indicated the return of the accursed Vendel.

“Well, my friends…I did warn you, though I now believe my previous suspicions to be irrelevant. She has proven herself a worthy protector in the time since I contacted you, Rollo.”

There was a rustle of paper. Alexandra briefly wondered over Carrocaer; did she not speak out of a physical infirmary, or had she taken an oath?

Rollo thanked his apprentice again and cleared his throat.

“In the matter of her true background we still are not certain; her story cannot be proven or disproven, except in one way: Vendel, has she handled a gaggletack?”

Oh God oh God oh God

The Daylight armor manifested in response to her distress, as if to shield her from what she was hearing. A cold stone still lodged itself under her breastbone. It was so heavy that she began to feel sick from panic, and she dug her claws into the quilts beneath her to ground herself.

Vendel paused and then cleared his throat.

“She has, as have we all in the wake of the Changelings’ attack on our home. She and the other three checked each and every troll here with gaggletacks in the days following. And her identity is always reassured by the summoning of the Trollhunter’s armor and amulet - even the polymorphic Changeling could not imitate the armor; no magics can.”

A beat, then –

“What are you thinking, Gruffudd.”

“You mentioned that Blinkous accused her outright of being a Changeling?”
Vendel cleared his throat.

“Why yes, early in her training. He had taken her secrecy and oddities and made an assumption, as tends to happen when Blinky sets his mind on something. It was an assumption that was disproven before my eyes and his, and which greatly insulted our Trollhunter. I don’t blame her for her secrecy; I cannot imagine that her upbringing encouraged openness.”
“This is a different opinion than what you held when you wrote me,” said Rollo.

The quiet pause would have sounded a awkward if Alexandra’s gut wasn’t churning with anxiety. There was a brief impression of abashed shuffling. When Vendel finally spoke, he sounded almost contrite.

“Our new Trollhunter’s care and dedication toward my people has indeed changed my mind about her, I suppose,” he said, slowly. “She risked her life to save her predecessor’s son from an anstramonstrum; after the Changeling’s attack, she spent every available moment helping the injured and comforting those who grieved. When entrusted with a whelp she gave it the utmost care and attention. Whatever her secrets are, be they foul or innocent, I believe that our Trollhunter will continue to do her best to protect those under her charge.”

It was the most Alexandra had heard Vendel speak in one go, and it was the most glowing recommendation she had ever received in her life.

It was also a most terrifying declaration of trust, and Alexandra had to wonder if he really meant it, if he’d really thought about what he was saying – and if he did…

“Do you have reason to suspect her of having foul secrets, Vendel?”

There was a terrible pause, made worse by the implications of it.

“I know nothing of her past beyond what she has spoken of. I believe there has been great pain. More than that is not mine to say or guess. I can only speak to what I have observed in her time serving as Trollhunter, and I cannot speak ill of that,” Vendel answered solemnly.

“Then I suppose we all shall have much to learn in the next few days, hmm?”

Another muffled ruffle of paper, a creak as Rollo leaned over to read.

“Ah, yes. Yes, I believe that will do quite nicely.”

There was another creak and then, with terrible clarity, the sound of stone fingers on a glass phone case.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

“Trollhunter,” said Rollo, “If you don’t mind, please come see us after you retrieve your device. An honest conversation will answer your questions better than simple eavesdropping.”

Alexandra crushed the phone.