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drawingsdrawingseverywhere · 6 years

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Trollhunters Dadswap AU part 22

Heimdrel is slain, The Bridge is destroyed, and what remains of The Witch’s forces on our side of the portal?

In which I have also given up on making these short and instead have decided to just go with the flow

Hey how’s it going guys good to be back now let’s see where were we

oh yes Toby being chased by a cat literally made of fire. That’s a thing. We follow canon up until the point Jim and Toby, fleeing the cat turn to the park where Strickler and Angor Rot are waiting with their trap.

“Now are you certain this is an Illuminaire?” Strickler pulls an artifact borrowed from the Galadrigal brothers out from under his cloak. “This will only work if it’s an Illuminaire.”

The Fiery Feline (ha ha) turns a corner and Jim points while taking the Amulet of Daylight out of his pocket.“You tell me!”

Angor Rot quickly grabs onto the boys and slowly backs away with Strickler in tow, no one breaking sight with the monster.

“oooooh dear. We have a problem” Strickler plucks a few knives from his cowl.

Jim doesn’t break his focus off of the very angry creature. “No don’t tell me. Let me guess. This isn’t an Illuminaire.”

“correct.”

“and that artifact is absolutely useless in this situation.”

“also correct.”

“great.”

Angor Rot draws his knife while Strickler tosses the item aside. He puts his arms out protectively in front of Jim and Toby. Toby pulls out his phone and starts taking pictures out of panic.

“This is an Infernal Hellheeti, Jim.”

“Well how was I supposed to know that?! It’s a fiery creature that came out of a rock! How many of those come out of rocks?!”

“about Eleven, thirteen if you include-”

“Look it’s either finish my algebra homework or research all countless magical creatures known to trollkind and which one do you think my mom would buy?”

“fair enough, Barbra did mention you’ve been struggling in that area.”

“can it be killed?” Angor Rot is already stepping forward to come between the Hellheeti and the boys.

“Go for it, bro! Give em a taste of the Shadow King!”

“wait what? Just what kind of talks are you and my mom having?”

“Nothing serious! Just idle chatting! She’s just concerned about your grades is all!”

“Uh guys??? kinda running out of Park to escape in!”

“Can I kill it?!” Angor Rot is standing in the front by this point. He’s ready to strike.

“YES” Jim and toby cry.

“Wait Angor don’t--!!!”

But it’s too late. Angor Rot was already on the attack. He strikes the Hellheeti with Skathe-Hrun, and then after a swift kick cuts it in half with his knife. The embers fall to the ground while Jim and Toby cheer. Angor Rot adjusts his grip on his knife before sheathing it.

moments later the embers burst back into life, forming 5 Hellheeti from the remnants of the first.

“As I was trying to say, attacking a Hellheeti will only make matters worse!”

our heroes are quickly surrounded. Jim looks to Strickler for advice.

“Well if we can’t fight it how do we stop it?!”

“The only way to stop a Hellheeti is douse it’s flames!”

“How do you do that?”

“The obvious answer is water but I didn’t exactly come prepared to be cornered by one Hellheeti let alone five!”

Toby notices something in his phone camera and points quickly. “would a fire hydrant do the trick?!”

Jim and Angor Rot exchange glances and nod. Angor Rot activates Skathe-Hrun with a roar, sending the Hellheeti pack backing up for a moment, and it’s a long enough pause to give him time to open a portal. Jim sees the other end appear by the Hydrant and races inside.

As Jim leaps into the portal he summons his armor. He uses this moment of weightlessness to just focus on coming out the other side, and he reenters reality with a bright flash. The Hellheeti are distracted by the flash, and Jim yells to get all their attention.

“hey!” he spins his sword and then challenges them with his hand. “Come and get some.”

The monsters charge at an intense speed, and if it wasn’t for Jim’s skill with the Sword of Daylight he wouldn’t have been able to cut the hydrant in time. It’s too late for the swarm of Hellheeti to stop before the majority of them are doused by the water. Jim finishes off the last one like he does in canon and it’s pretty dang awesome.

“go get some rest, you two. There’s a pop quiz tomorrow and I will not hear it if you try telling me you didn’t have time to study cause I know for a fact you did.”

“alright, you make sure Angor Rot gets back to the market before sunrise. It’ll be dawn soon!”

That morning Jim is hard at work at making breakfast for himself and his mom. With Bhaltair gone things have been nuts at the hospital. Barbra quickly makes a bowl of cereal and runs out, kissing Jim on the head on the way.

Jim voices his worries on the way to school with Toby.

“It’s a shame he’s such a good doctor,” Toby replies while biking circles around Jim. “Your mom actually got a bit of rest while he was around.”

“believe me Toby I would totally wish he’d come back if it meant my mom could get a well deserved break. but it’s for the best that he’s gone. I just wish it was possible to tell her why I’m worried.”

“why don’t you?”

“And end up in the crazy house?!”

“good point. Doesn’t help that you told Claire we’d get Enrique out of the Darklands.”

Jim rolls his eyes, “toby we’ve been over this! He’s stuck in the Darklands! I can’t just leave him there!”

“know what else is in the Darklands? Certain death!”

Things follow along with canon at this point up until Jim and Toby go to class. Claire pushes her chair back and turns to face them. They go through the same conversation up until Strickler enters the class.

“alright, everyone. Seats forward, pencil’s out. Today we will be having a pop quiz on the Roman Empire, and I expect each of you to do your best. Consider this for Extra Credit for the chapter.”

Class goes by smoothly and as Claire picks up her books Strickler calls to her over from his desk.

“Miss Nunez, a word if you please.”

The class clears out and Strickler stops Jim and Toby before they leave as well.

“Lake, Domzalski, you as well.”

He fiddles with his pen while the students approach his desk. Strickler waits until the door closes to speak.

“so... I thought it over, and it feel like it’s time you join us in Trollmarket, Claire.”

“Are you serious?” Claire steps closer. “when are we going? are we going now?”

Strickler raises his hand with a light chuckle. “calm down, calm down. You still have other classes to attend. We shall go together this afternoon after school. Jim and Toby will show you the way, and I shall meet you there.”

That afternoon, like Strickler said, the professor is waiting beneath the bridge.

“Everyone ready?”

Jim pulls the Horngazel out from his bag and hands it to Claire. She takes a deep breath.

“If it means getting some answers, I’m ready for anything.”

Strickler nods and turns to the canal wall, drawing a line for Claire to trace. Claire steps forward, and Strickler raises his hand.

“Just a moment, I feel it right to have no secrets between us.” In a flash Strickler is back in his true form and for a moment Claire freezes. “still ready to go on?”

Claire swallows hard and nods.

“I’m ready.”

“very good. Simply follow the mark I’ve drawn and we can be on our way.”

Claire is in awe as the portal opens and the staircase of Crystal appears. Before they can react she races down as fast as she can, taking in every sight as she goes on. Jim, Toby, and Strickler only catch up with her once she reaches the bottom steps. Strickler steps in front of her and stops her before she sees the market.

“now Miss Nunez, we must establish rules before you just go wherever you please! Trolls don’t take very kindly to humans. You must act with the utmost respect and tact while traversing this place!”

“whatever you say, sir,” Claire nods, directly after slipping past him to finally see the Market with her own eyes. She is, naturally, stunned. “it’s.... beautiful.”

“Welcome to Heartstone Trollmarket.” Claire takes Jim’s hand as he approaches, in moments pulling him down the steps as she talks about how lovely everything is.

“can I live down here?!”

Strickler is quick to intervene. “I don’t think that would be a good id-”

she’s gone in seconds.

“oh no”

Jim, Toby, and Strickler give chase in vain as Claire weaves through the crowd with glee, it’s not until she bumps into Angor Rot himself walking with AAARRRGGHH!!! that she comes to a stop.

“you! I remember you! You’re-”

“Angor Rot.”

Claire graciously bows. “I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life.”

Angor Rot returns the gesture, “it is I who should be thanking you for saving mine.”

As Strickler and the boys catch up with her, Claire and Angor are already deep in conversation while she looks AAARRRGGHH!!! over.

“Jim told me about how you both helped him slay Heimdrel, and how you caught him midair after he zapped a Tyreta Stalkling with lightning!”

Strickler glances over to Jim, “just how much have you told her...?”

“not much....?”

AAARRRGGHH!!! naturally starts to look uncomfortable after a bit of prodding, which is understandable considering his past, and Strickler gently directs Claire away.

“Ooookay, Claire I think you’ve had enough fun for one-”

and she’s off again.

“day.”

She turns a corner and Strickler and Angor Rot are instantly aware of what could go down. The trolls race after her in panic at this point.

“Nomura’s pottery shop! Is that where Toby got his Gnome? And where’s the Galadrigal Library? I have so many questions to ask Dictatious and Blinky!”

Claire gasps.

“Is that the troll pub?!”

Strickler and Angor Rot pass terrified glances to each other. It obviously is not long before Claire spots the Elder of Trollmarket, Vendel, in the middle of enjoying himself with a drink. By the time Strickler and Angor Rot enter, he has already spotted her. Both take a drink to brace themselves for this terrible situation. After taking a good look at Vendel’s face, Strickler takes two.

Vendel is obviously angry, especially when Claire tries to introduce herself and thank him for letting her into the market. Strickler can’t help but somewhat hide behind Angor Rot as Vendel let’s his anger out.

“I allowed the trollhunter here because he was chosen, and I allowed the chubby one in for emotional support! But now a third????”

Strickler tries to defend the decision when Claire suddenly introduces herself again, this time in troll.

Congrats to Claire for saving Strickler’s life this time.

with Vendel dealt with, and Claire free to go through the market, there’s one last place she wants to see. It’s a tough choice, but eventually the team agrees to let Claire see the vault, and by extension the remains of Kilahead bridge. Angor Rot opens it with a simple touch, and they walk quietly inside.

“this is as close as we can allow you to the Darklands, I’m afraid.”

Claire says her peace, sitting beside the Keystone and promising her brother they’d get him out somehow. With Claire satisfied, Strickler puts his hand on Toby’s shoulder.

“Toby, if you would be so kind to show Claire the Hero’s Forge, Jim and I have some things to discuss.”

Toby and Angor Rot lead Claire to the forge, where she quickly spots Bular hard at work.

“Is that Bular? Gunmar’s son?”

“In the flesh.... well... ya know.... stone flesh.”

Bular scratches at the metal covering on his face, mumbling to himself while he picks up stones and puts them in place on a statue. He is unnaturally silent while he works. Claire leans over towards Toby, while also trying to get a better look at his project.

“What’s that statue he’s working on?” her voice is barely over a whisper.

Bular is quick to respond, looking over his shoulder, “I do not make statues.”

Claire freezes as Bular fully turns to face them, remembering seeing him for the first time in the chilling dark of Jim’s Basement- eyes burning through the shadows. Bular waves a hand towards the figure before getting back to work.

“I am restoring my father to his former glory.”

“Took a while to track down all the stones,” Toby explains, “hate to be there when they gotta put Jim back together.”

awkward silence.

“okaaaaaaaaaay just grossed myself out.”

Claire watches Bular work a while longer.

“you guys train in an arena decorated with the remains of former Trollhunters? That is....... so awesome!”

Claire looked over to Angor Rot and Toby. “can we turn it on?”

Before they can stop her she’s already trying to find the controls.

Meanwhile Strickler is hard at work checking various maps and textbooks, while also helping Jim repair the vespa they built.

“so, Claire Nunez. You two are closer than I thought.”

“something wrong with her? You seemed just fine with bringing her here this morning.”

Strickler laughs, “I have nothing against Miss Nunez. She’s one of my best students, not counting you. Popular. Lovely. I can see why you care so deeply for her. You’d go to the ends of the Earth for her.”

Jim starts flipping through a book but almost drops it as Strickler continues

“or the Darklands.”

Jim laughs nervously. Strickler closes the lid to the Vespa and directs his attention to one of the books on the table.

“The heart can be a dangerous thing, Jim. It can lead you to places you shouldn’t go.”

“how did you-”

“figure it out? it wasn’t hard when you made it so easy. I swear on Deya’s Grace, Draal’s infatuation with Nomura was less obvious!”

“It’s her brother, Strickler, and I made her a promise! I can’t--”

“The biggest difference between you and Claire is that you are fully aware of the danger that lies in the Darklands! If you were to go alone you would undeniably be killed!”

Jim flips through a book only partially listening.

“Which is why I won’t allow you to go alone.”

“You said I have to answer every call, Strickler! Now I- wait... what?”

Strickler sits by Jim’s side, hand on his shoulder in a sign of support.

“Angor Rot and I have been discussing it along with Nomura. We know you’re going in there no matter what we say. As risky as going to the Darklands would be, if Claire’s brother is that important to you, he’s important to us. We are a team, and no decision you make is going to change that.”

Jim smiles to Strickler, who in return smiles back, when Nomura runs in with Angor Rot at her heels.

“Strickler!”

Both Jim and Strickler rise to their feet.

“What’s wrong? Are the children alright?”

Nomura grabs onto Strickler’s arm and begins leading them to the Forge with Jim and Angor Rot close behind.

“If we don’t hurry they wont be!”

Jim, Strickler, and Angor Rot race into the Forge to see it going absolutely haywire. Toby and Claire are dangling for their lives. Jim races forward and skids to a stop when he spots Bular also trapped on the Forge’s ever changing form.

“What’s going on?!”

“I don’t know!” Bular digs his claws into the stone as he tries skidding down and leaping onto another platform. “the fleshbags were looking at the Soothescrayer when it suddenly went nuts!”

“well can’t you turn it off?”

Bular jumps off the platform towards another only to be knocked back by a spinning axe. He digs his claws into the wood as he’s thrown about only to land on a different platform miles away from where he was trying to go.

“I would if this was something The Forge has done before!”

Angor Rot takes a few steps back to look at everything and points. “the Soothescrayer is still active.”

Stricker, Jim, and Angor Rot jump onto the Forge. “Jim, Angor and I will get Claire and Toby, you get to the Soothescrayer! There’s an emergency shut off switch in it’s mouth!”

Jim nods and starts climbing. There’s a long and hard climb as Angor Rot just barely catches Toby as he falls off of a spinning platform, and as Strickler leaps to catch Claire as she also begins to fall. Jim reaches the Scryer and reaches in just at that moment. He swings his sword into the floor and uses it as a pedestal to climb up and shut the machine off. Strickler catches Claire as the platform begins to settle down, He uses his own claws to slip down safely until the platform settles itself back to normal.

The eyes of the Soothescryer begins to glow intensely, and as Bular joins the others safely to the ground he is the only one who truly understands what’s happening.

There is a flash, and Jim is gone.

“JIM?!” Toby wiggles out of Angor Rot’s arms.

“he’s gone!”

“Not gone.” Claire and Toby spin around to Bular and Strickler. Strickler is staring wide eyed while Bular looks down to the kids. “He has been summoned.”

“Summoned?!” Claire grabs onto Strickler’s cape to make him look away from the Scryer to her. “what does he mean by SUMMONED?!”

Strickler slowly looks back up to the Soothescrayer, a glimmer of pride and surprise in his eyes. “He has been summoned by the elder council.”

Jim is covering his ears as the platform and the Scryer whirs to a stop. Opening his eyes, he looks around to see the Forge in a whole new light. Now it is covered in mist, and the faint glimmer of stars, and everything is glowing a mystical blue. He rises to his feet.

“h-hello?”

“he is but a child!” “a human!” “he is not worthy!”

voices whisper and hiss about him, and Jim finds himself drawing his blade in defense.

“So the boy appears to us at last.” A deep voice echoes in the empty space. “but are you worthy of this place?”

Before Jim can think a massive troll that appeared to be made of nothing more but mist is charging towards him, sword aimed to strike. Jim parries, and after a swing of his sword the troll vanishes into mist. In moments the troll reappears behind Jim, and on instinct Jim makes them vanish again. once more the troll appears, but with this swing the troll performs a maneuver that forces the Sword of Daylight out of Jim’s hand and into the hand of the troll before him.

With the sword at his throat, Jim realizes he can see this troll only has one eye, and he is wearing the same armor.

“how did you-” he begins, but the troll interrupts with an intensity Jim feels like he’s seen before.

“silence!” the troll’s eye narrows. “you stand before a grand council.”

Jim looks over to the statue yet to be placed in it’s spot in the Forge and it suddenly clicks. “Gunmar.... G-Gunmar the Black! The voice in my Amulet, that was you!”

“our amulet!” another voice hisses from the statues above.

a different voice speaks over the first. “We are the council of elder trollhunters!”

The Sword of Daylight vanishes out of Gunmar’s hand and back into Jim’s, and while Jim tries to process what is happening Gunmar subtly begins to circle him.

“does.... does this mean I’m dead?” Jim looks to Gunmar for an answer. “that’s what happened, isn’t it? The forge went haywire and it killed me!”

“You are still in the Forge, in a way,” Gunmar replies. The warlord raises a hand to present the ethereal land around them. “Welcome to The Void. A place in between worlds. Here the Trollhunter receives council from those who have fallen before them, should they be worthy of it.”

Jim watches quietly as Gunmar continues, “we have been watching you, waiting for the moment to arrive when we saw it fit to grant you entry to this place.”

“so the arena going nuts... that was you?”

Gunmar nods, arms folded behind his back and towering over Jim but listening nonetheless.

“and.... wait hang on did you say you’ve been watching me???”

Gunmar unfolds his arms and waves his hand, “we have seen everything. From your triumphs,”

at the wave of Gunmar’s hand suddenly a cloud of mist shoots out and creates an image before himself and Jim. Seen within is the moment Jim first struck through Heimdrel, and the aftermath as the tyrant faded into the unforgiving water below.

“and your failures”

another flash and the scene melts into the battle at the museum where Jim sees himself being forced to place the amulet into the bridge by Bhaltair- opening the portal and almost releasing The Witch.

“all the way down to your deceptions.”

one last movement and Jim sees himself from that morning, promising Claire they would get Enrique back.

Jim can’t help but feel guilt rise up into his throat. He can’t bring himself to face Gunmar as the troll speaks to him.

“we know what you’re up to, Jim Lake, and it will bring you nothing but your own destruction.”

Jim spins to face the troll now.

“We have to go. I promised. and isn’t it my duty to-”

Gunmar vanishes into mist and reappears directly in front of Jim. He growls furiously and is face to face to the surprised and scared Jim.

“Your duty, young trollhunter, is to maintain the balance between our world and your world above- to protect all life from the death The Witch, Argante, creates- not to release ancient evils in search of one human child!”

“but I-”

“Enough!” Gunmar turns from Jim and as he does another cloud of mist appears with a wave on Gunmar’s hand. “to be the Trollhunter is to be the only thing standing between this world and those who wish it harm. It is your sole mission to protect humankind and trollkind.”

within the mist reveals one of Gunmar’s own memories of training with Bular. With another wave of Gunmar’s hand, Jim now sees the moment in which he helped Bular out of the museum rubble to discover part of his face had been turned to stone.

“something you have already failed to do.”

Jim is quiet for a time as he stares at Bular’s shocked face. He looks to the ground before taking a deep and well needed breath.

“look, I’m not perfect. I’m not. And I know that he’s your son. Trust me he’s never let me forget it.” Jim looks up to Gunmar who is standing tall in reaction to Jim’s reply. “but Bular made that choice, and I would have done it for him if we were in opposite places. And you know what else? For spirits who have been watching everything I do, you seem to be purposefully ignoring all the good I’ve done.”

Gunmar doesn’t move an inch as Jim approaches him. Jim stands his ground as he looks up to the larger trollhunter and continues,

“and I’ve done it with my friends at my side, including your son! I’m sorry I don’t meet some unspoken standard you guys waited until I killed The Witch’s second-in-command to finally tell me, but there are a lot of things we’ve done together as a team!“

“he mocks us!” “he is a failure!” “do not let him speak further!” “The Amulet chose incorrectly!”

Jim gave the room a worried glance as the choir of furious voices began to cry out louder and louder, until Gunmar himself suddenly yelled to the council.

“We have given him our council, he has the right to speak!”

Gunmar turns to Jim and he lets out a somewhat heavy sigh.

“and as much as it pains me to see my own son sacrifice his eye as i did, I trust his decision to trust this boy. We shall let him speak.”

Back in the land of the living Strickler is doing his best to relieve Claire and Toby over their friend who just vanished out of thin air.

both are unconvinced.

“ok but the word ‘Void’ sounds pretty bad, Strickler!”

“Yeah! And when you say ghosts are we talking old and wise sage spirits or the kind that will suck out your soul just by looking at you?!”

“they will not take his soul! Merely, they will look into it. The Void exists to-”

Before Strickler can go on, Jim begins to re-materialize in the center of The Forge. Bular is the first to be at his side, helping him come back to reality and regain his senses.

“YOU’RE OK!” Toby goes down on one knee to kneel by Jim, Claire closely behind.

“so trolls and ghosts exist. What else are you going to tell me? Fairies next?”

Strickler scoffs. “Actually the Fairies lost their war to the pixies long ago- oh never mind that! Jim what did they say?”

Angor Rot and Bular help Jim to his feet.

“They say they wont stop us, Gunmar especially.”

Bular perks up, “what exactly wont they stop you from?”

Jim takes a deep breath once he’s finally back to his senses. This would be hard to explain.

“From going to The Darklands. But if we’re going in there, they say we’re not getting out alive without killing Argante.”

Strickler passes a sharp glance to Angor Rot and AAARRRGGHH!!! at the mentioning of The Witch’s true name, but then looks back to Jim.

“are you certain?”

“yeah. But guys, with Heimdrel out of the picture, Kilahead Bridge here in Trollmarket, and Bhaltair no where to found, maybe.... maybe we could actually have a chance.”

We then move on to a new place. Changelings sit in every chair and couch, conversing for each other as the Janus Order will soon be coming into order. Many are talking about their leader Bhaltair, and his continuous absence. Otto creeps in through the back door, tipping his hat down to obscure his face and just trying to slip back into an open seat. He is, of course, spotted before he gets very far.

“You there! Scaarbach! You’re practically Bhaltair’s right hand man at this point. You of all people would know where our wise and powerful leader is!”

Otto stutters, removing his hat and having a heard time explaining just what Bhaltair has been up to. He is cornered by a specific changeling, when suddenly the doors crash open.

"right behind you"

Bhaltair enters, soaking wet, and holding something bundled up in his hand."I'm surprised with you, Petrok. You seem irritated with me. why not voice your concerns for all of us to hear? I'm sure there are others in the order with the same thoughts."

The changeling clears his throat, worried. "th-the Bridge has been destroyed for months now. Why unite the changelings into an Order if we would be without the Head for ages on end? We've had no knowledge of your whereabouts except for what Otto has passed on to us."

Bhaltair shifts the bundled item in his hands slightly to more comfortable hold it. "hmmmm.... I see.... So you are curious as to what I've been up to all this time? am I right?"

"you could say that."

"or is it perhaps.... You don't think I should be leading if I'm never here to lead?"

The changeling backs away with a defensive hand raised when Bhaltiar locks eyes with them. "oh no not that at ALL, sir! I just.... a few of us are growing restless is all! Perhaps you could inform us just why this Order has been created?"

Bhaltair approaches, and the changeling goes to his knees already begging forgiveness. "Why so nervous, Petrok? Do you fear for your life now that you remember just what happens to those who question my leadership?"

"N-No sir! I just fear if we do not act soon, the boy will find us out, is all! I only wish to ensure victory for Argante!"

Bhaltair hums in thought and then lightly pats Petrok’s head. "I see! Well then I'm sure you wont mind if I tell her that you feel this way."

Before the Changeling can say anything else Bhaltair turns his attention to Otto "Scaarbach, with me. We shall tell Argante personally just what happened at the Bridge."

Otto nods and catches up to Bhaltair who is already leaving the room, taking a moment to glance at the changeling still on their knees and terrified out of their wits. As soon as they're out of earshot Otto turns his focus to Bhaltair.

"sir do you really think it's wise to-"

"I must speak with Argante immediately."

"Good news, I hope?"

Bhaltair's silence gives Otto the answer he needs.

Bhaltair opens the doors to a magically sealed room, and the moment he and Otto are passed the doors they close tightly behind them. Otto only watches as Bhaltair places the bundled up item on the floor before the faint but still present markings of a rune mirror Heimdrel made long ago. He unsheathes his sword cane and retraces the runes to reactivate the mirror. Argante comes into view as Bhaltair goes to one knee and bows his head.

"My Queen.... I bring you dire news...."

"speak, Jailer. Why is it you come to me alone when these matters should-"

"A thousand pardons for interrupting, my lady, but that is the news I bring."

Argante is silent as Bhaltair reaches for the bundled up item, he quietly unties the ropes and pulls off the cloth, bowing his head and presenting Heimdrel's Hook-shot for Argante to see. "Heimdrel.... has been felled by the Trollhunter and his allies."

"are you certain?"

"I was unable to come to his aid, and for that I beg your forgiveness, but yes. I saw the boy use the gifts you gave The Executioner against himself. The Sword of Daylight..." Bhaltair pauses, taking a moment to calm himself, "was forced through him, and the blessing of protection you placed over him brought forth his demise."

Argante's eyes narrow angrily.

"Rise, Bhaltair."

He obeys without hesitation, eyes locking with hers and holding on tightly to Heimdrel's hook-shot.

"This child has gone through great lengths to ruin our plans."

"agreed, my queen."

"Tell me what you intend to do to stop him"

Bhaltair doesn't even pause to think about it:

"My queen, already in Heimdrel's absence I have done much: All Changelings who can still fight, all but for Takato of whom I have not seen since the Bridge, have been gathered. I have begun calling us The Janus Order. Most stand ready to serve you, and I fully intend to sort out the weak in a few day's time. For some even sooner."

He respectfully bows his head and holds out a hand to her as he continues 'but without The Executioner my reach is severely crippled. I require aid in order to regain what had been lost from the battle."

“What would you ask of me, Bhaltair, to provide you with this advantage?"

Bhaltair looks up to her. "I would ask you to give me the power once given to my Champion brother. Give me this, and I swear to you I shall finish what he started."

Otto restrains himself from gasping. Argante's eye widen.

"You would have me take your soul, in exchange for the power Heimdrel once had?"

Bhaltair's grip tightens on the hook-shot "I would have you take every last shred of my being. And in doing so I vow I would personally tear him apart- limb by limb- as payment for what he has done to Heimdrel, and I also vow to personally deliver his head to you as a welcoming gift back to the world you so rightfully deserve."

there is a pause, by this point the hand holding onto the hook-shot is trembling from anger alone. Otto practically holds his breath as everything plays out

"tell me, Bhaltair, just how much does it anger you to know what the boy has done to our Executioner?"

Bhaltair lets out a growl, his face growing harsher the more he stands there. "far greater than any word could describe."

Argante leans in closer towards the mirror

"Tell me just how angry you are, Bhaltair, I want to see the fury in your eyes."

Bhaltair locks eyes with Argante, body trembling as he tries to maintain his composure, snarling from instinct, and tail swingling back and forth irritably. "I would reduce a million trollmarkets to rubble if it meant the honor of hunting him down, torturing him to his very last breaths, and then forcing him to watch as I did the very same to each and every one of his friends until he begged me for death."

Bhaltair leans in close to the mirror, until it almost feels as if they were face to face. "and then when he had nothing left? Nothing left to live or die for? Until he was nothing but a shell of the hero those underground fools have raised him up to be? even then I would not bring him the death he desired."

Otto places a hand on his throat, taking in a sharp breath as Argante laughs wickedly.

"you would see all this done?"

"without hesitation," Bhaltair's smile grows just as wicked as hers, "my queen."

"So see it done."

Argante snaps her fingers and instantly Bhaltair is doubling over onto the floor, arms around his waist and curling up in agony. Otto backs away to the door as Bhaltair's soul cascades out from his mouth and into a pool on the floor. It shines a bright red.

Bhaltair watches in some mixture of horror and shock as both he and Otto watch the soul shape itself into a red gemstone.

"unlike my usual bargains, the goal is more important to me than anything you could give me, Jailer. However my power to reach into that realm has waned. This is the last gift I can provide to you, unless of course you free me from this prison."

Bhaltair rises to his feet, taking the gemstone into his hands as he stands, he seems a little out of it at first but is quickly recovering.

"go now, my champion, do for me all that has been said and more. But first..."

Bhaltair looks back up to the mirror as Otto returns to his side, nervously wringing the edge of his hat that's now in his hands.

Argante's eyes narrow again with a dark and wicked glee.

"sort out the weak."

with that the last of the power fades from the mirror, and the runes fade off of the wall permanently.

Bhaltair takes a deep breath, holding the stone strongly in his hand as Otto looks up to him nervously. Bhaltair lets out an amused huff, tossing the stone in the air and catching it again, and looks down to Otto in return.

moments later back downstairs the remaining members of the Janus order have been all awaiting Bhaltair's return. Especially Petrok who spoke out against him earlier. As Bhaltair descends the steps with Otto shortly behind him, all rise to give him attention.

Bhaltair doesn't say a word to anyone until he approaches said terrified changeling.

no one says a word.

Bhaltair tsks when he gets close enough to see said changeling shaking from pure terror.

"come now Petrok, wont you look me in the eye?" as the changeling looks up Bhaltair gently places a hand on his shoulder "no no, with your true eyes"

all stand in silence as this changeling shifts back to his real form and locks eyes with Bhaltair. "I have good news for you, my boy."

Petrok seems to almost completely buy it.

"really?"

Bhaltair smiles and places his other hand on the changeling's other shoulder, letting out a quick laugh and nodding. "that I do"

Bhaltair's grip tightens on his shoulders.

"your death is gonna be quick"

in moments Bhaltair's hands become burning hot, and he grabs onto the changeling's head

there is a well placed camera shift as we see Otto and others wince in terror at the sound of melting stone. Bhaltair turns, wiping the lava off of his hands His eyes are burning red like fire and smoke is rising from his throat

"ANYONE ELSE QUESTION MY LEADERSHIP?" there is horrified silence "WELL?"

Bhaltair takes a deep breath as he shifts back to his human form and adjusts his suit while also brushing back his hair. "Good. Now, someone clean that up before he hardens into the carpet. If you'll excuse me, I have a trollhunter to kill."

#Trollhunters #Dadswap AU #IT'S FINALLY HERE #YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IT'S TAKEN ME TO WRITE THIS ALL OUT #HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS BETTER APPRECIATE THIS

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tmae3114 · 3 years

Text

IT MAY HAVE GONE MIDNIGHT MY TIME BUT IT’S STILL HERO APPRECIATION DAY IN SOME TIMEZONE AND THEREFORE YOU GET THIS FIC I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED AFTER WORKING ON IT FOR A WHILE ON THE BEST DAY FOR POSTING IT

The position of this in the Book 3 timeline is ~nebulous~ but it’s sometime after the hero sees Warlic again for the first and before Warlic and Alexander started working together

trust in me (and I’ll trust you too)

For a moment, the words refuse to make sense. He knows what everything she just said means individually but those words put together in that order don’t make a coherent concept. Only for a moment. All too soon, clarity crashes on him like icy water down his spine.

“…you’re here to invite me to a party?”

Or: a hero and a mage have a conversation, trauma sucks, and actual age differences mean nothing in the face of Big Sister Instincts™

[AO3]

There is, for some yet-to-be-determined reason, an adventurer asleep on his couch.

Warlic pauses mid-step to contemplate this fact for a few moments, then realises that the cup of tea he forgot in the kitchen is going to keep going cold if he doesn’t return to hurrying to fetch it.

One severe disappointment in the form of a stone cold cup of tea and the necessary subsequent brewing of a replacement later, there continues to be an adventurer asleep on his couch. In full armour, no less. Even after all these years, he is no closer to understanding how that can possibly be comfortable, for all it never seems to bother her.

He sips his tea contemplatively, then clears his throat pointedly.

That prompts a stirring. Ro blinks up at him, looking for all the world like there is no reason at all to question her napping on his couch. She yawns widely, her jaw audibly popping, and stretches languidly in a very catlike way.

Then, in a movement that is all seal, she twists and flops sideways off of the couch.

“Hi, Warlic,” she greets from the floor, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Hello, Ro,” he replies, taking another sip of his tea. “I assume that Cysero let you in?”

“Mmhmm.”

There is no elaboration on that. She seems perfectly content to simply lie on the floor and wait for him to say or do something else.

He drinks more of his tea.

She tilts her head slightly.

His sigh is fonder than he’d care to admit.

“Not that I’m unhappy to see you,” he says, arching his visible eyebrow “But are you here for a reason?”

She clicks her tongue and twists in a way that is probably supposed to help her get upright but more strongly resembles a seal in the banana pose than anything else.

“I needed a nap and your tower is always so nice and quiet,” she says, voice cheerful and dry.

In the distance, something – hopefully on Cysero’s side of the tower – explodes.

Ro giggle-snorts as she leverages herself upright using the arm of the couch she rolled off of.

“Aye, awright, point taken!” she calls in the general direction of the explosion.

“A social visit, then?” Warlic prompts, hiding his smile behind the rim of his teacup. “You usually give advance warning for those.”

“Ehhh,” Ro replies, making a wobbly see-saw motion with one hand, halfway sitting on the arm of the couch now “Social with a purpose?”

“Do tell.”

“Artix is wanting to dae a thing,” she says, twirling one hand in a circle as though to encompass the incredibly vague concept of ‘a thing’ “Away out at the keep? Hanging out and having a meal and stuff, ‘cept he doesnae know who’ll be up for it. I-” here, she makes an overly dramatic gesture to herself, the fingers of one hand splayed over her heart “-volunteered tae come see if you lot-” a wide sweeping gesture, clearly meant to encompass the tower and its inhabitants “-were free and when, seeing as I’m popping ‘round t’see Cysero aw the time anyways,”

“…you’re here to invite me to a party?”

“I mean…” Ro leans back, one arm braced against the back, one ankle loosely slung over the other, casual and so, so at ease “Less a party and more just dinner wi’ friends but aye, thereabouts.”

Are you mad?

The words stick in his throat. His stomach twists painfully. Just as he vaguely begins to hope that it isn’t showing outwardly, that he’ll be able to excuse himself quickly and without a fuss, his tea betrays him by sloshing loudly over the side of the cup.

Ro is by his side in an instant, one hand whisking the cup away from him and the other winding around his back to support him by the opposite elbow, gently but firmly steering him to the couch. He is vaguely aware of a quiet narrative litany – “Woah, ‘kay, c’mere, let’s just-” – accompanying these actions, then he blinks and is sitting with his hands clasped in his lap, knuckles white and chest tight. He blinks again, once, twice, staring down at his hands, then up to look at the adventurer sitting at his side. The way that she meets and holds eye contact with him for a few moments more than gives away the worry lurking underneath the calm on her face. His cup of tea is no longer in her hands. A quick glance reveals it to be set down on a coaster on a side table.

“So,” Ro says, pulling his attention back to her “That was a reaction.”

The noise he makes in response to that is somewhere between a snort and a gasp.

“Do you realise,” he asks, voice trembling despite his best efforts “how dangerous what you suggested is?”

She leans a bit closer and rests one of her hands over his clasped ones. The cool metal of her gauntlet is almost grounding.

“It’s not,” she says. Just like the way she guided him to sit, her voice is both gentle and firm. Kind but unyielding. It’s the voice she uses for Heroics.

“It is, how can you not-”

“Ah, of course, silly me,” she interrupts, voice now completely flat. “How could I not have foreseen the incredible danger inherent in you leaving this tower for a few hours to spend some time with your friends. You’re right, that’s an absolutely mental idea. Whatever was I thinking.”

His breath shudders. A distant part of him notes that she seems to have switched from the casual mix of Common and her native tongue she favours in the company of friends to the – as she puts it, with air quotes, rolled eyes, and disdain – “more proper” Greenguardian dialect of Common that she uses for everything from strangers to snotty nobles; the one she uses to ensure she’ll be understood, for better or for worse. She almost certainly doesn’t realise that she’s done it. That distant part of him aches.

He takes another hitching breath.

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

She sighs and shifts to face him more fully, tucking one leg up underneath herself as she sits sideways, and moving her other hand so that both of hers are covering both of his. It helps stop the shaking, a little bit.

“You’re scared. I get it. You’ve told me it wasn’t safe for you to leave before and I believe you. But it’s been years now, Warlic, and if it’s safe for me to come here, why isn’t it safe for you to leave, just for a little bit?”

Because it’s different. Because he could lose control at any moment but maybe here it could be contained. Because it’s his fault, all of it, Alex and Jaania and the Rose and-

Because that monster was a part of him, is inside of him still, and what if I-

Because-

“-I’m dangerous.”

Ah.

Oops.

The look that she gives him somehow manages to be drier than the Sandsea and utterly sympathetic at the same time. He has a feeling that he knows what she’s going to say next, can practically already hear it – So am I. We’re all dangerous, it comes with the territory.

He can see it in her face, begins preparing his counterargument.

“You’re not a threat, Warlic.”

Crystallised disbelief is, apparently, a noise and his vocal cords are capable of making it.

“You’re not.” She squeezes his hands. “You’re in control. You’re not Wargoth-” He flinches at the name, the one he’s only heard in his own thoughts for some time now “-and you’re in control. You are exactly as dangerous as you choose to be and not a whit more and I think I know you well enough to say that that amount is minimal.”

“You didn’t see,” he replies, quietly, staring past her head to trace the grain of the wooden beams in the wall behind her with his eyes “What it was like in the early days. What I was like when I was only just recovering.”

It’s a statement, not an accusation. They both know she would have been there, given the remotest choice. They both know she couldn’t be there. They both know why and who is to blame for it.

She flinches anyways.

It’s the Wargoth in him, Warlic thinks, that makes him be so cruel to a friend who is only trying to help.

Ro breaths in, holds it for a few seconds, then breathes out. She flexes her fingers where they rest across his clasped hands. The motion draws his focus back from the wall just in time to see something in her eyes go firm.

“Right,” she says, with the air of a decision made. “Palms up, in your lap.”

Before he can respond to that non-sequitur, she has swiftly, methodically, somehow still gently, pried his interlocking fingers apart and arranged his hands so that they are resting in his lap, one arm to a leg, palms up. He twitches his fingers a little, wincing at the stiffness in his knuckles after clasping them so tightly for so long.

“Now, close your eyes.”

“Ro, I-”

“Wheesht and dae it, Warlic.”

He closes his eyes.

There are several long moments filled with the sound of rummaging and rustling. She grumbles under her breath a couple of times – at one point, he hears a distinct “why do I even have that?” – and then makes a distinctly satisfied rumble that would be much more suited to her seal vocal cords than her human ones.

A beat after that, something heavy and so very soft is settled into his arms.

“’kay, you can open your eyes now.”

He doesn’t want to. His heart is pounding so wildly he half wonders if it’s visible from the outside. A part of him is desperately hoping that she’s just handed him a blanket, some sentimental symbol of comfort she hopes to share, maybe even something with childhood importance. Something, anything, like that.

The rest of him knows better.

Definitely not a blanket.

The noise he makes isn’t so much a vocalisation of her name as it is a plaintive cry made of vaguely similar sounds. His eyes snap to her in panic and-

-she’s smiling. He can tell not just by the way the outer corners of her eyes have tilted up but by the way he can just barely see her teeth because her mask is pooled around her neck and she’s smiling and she looks absolutely, utterly at ease and-

-and her sealskin is in his hands.

“I trust you,” she says, as thought that isn’t a completely redundant thing to say, as though she hasn’t just made herself impossibly vulnerable, hasn’t just- “I trust you, Warlic. Even if you can’t trust yourself right now, can you trust me? Trust my faith in you?”

The sealskin in his lap is thick and soft and warm. He’s bunched his hands in it, pulled his arms in a bit to hold it closer, without even realising he was doing so and he can’t quite convince himself to let go. He’s never seen it close enough to realise just how much the white-on-blue markings look like clouds before.

His heart pounds and his mind races. There are a million and one things that a mage of his strength and knowledge could do with a selkie’s coat and almost none of them are good. I trust you she says but how can she be anything but terrified in this moment, this moment where she has all but put herself into the worst horror stories of her people, how could she just hand this to him-

Wargoth enslaved people. He’d stolen them from themselves, reached in to grab the fire in their souls and twisted to chain them to his will, to turn them into puppets in his hands-

-and his friend has just unhesitatingly handed him the power to do it again. To do it to her.

“Warlic, hey, Warlic, look at me.”

Her hand is on his shoulder now and he turns to look, a million repetitions of the same question on his tongue – how can you…- and then she stands up.

She stands up and takes one step backwards.

A second.

A third.

She stops there, three paces away, smiling all the while.

“I trust you,” she repeats for the third time.

As his vision first blurs, then swims, Warlic finds himself thinking it’s a good thing that selkies live in the sea, it would be incredibly rude of me to give her coat water stains after a gesture like that. He takes one breath, then two, and then lets go.

Warlic bawls like a baby.

Ro returns to the couch, sitting close enough that their legs are pressed together, and starts rubbing circles on his back, between his shoulder blades.

It should feel ridiculous, with how much younger than him she is. He remembers when she had to look up just to look him in the face while he tried to convince her to take a nap, assuring her that the world wouldn’t end when she wasn’t looking if she took some time to rest. She’s grown a lot since then, he knows, but the number of years is such a drop in the ocean of those he’s lived that it feels like she must have barely aged at all. And yet, somehow, the rhythm of her comforting him as though he’s the child in the room doesn’t feel out of place at all. It just feels…

…safe.

Inevitably, he runs out of tears to cry. Ro wordlessly passes him a tissue to blow his nose, then another to wipe his eyes. He has no idea where she got them from, as there aren’t any nearby. He can’t remember the last time he cried like that. It feels… good, in a way, to have let it out.

When his breathing settles into a more sedate pace, Ro pats him on the shoulder.

“It’s okay to be scared, Warlic,” she says, voice quiet “You know that I know what it’s like to be scared of yourself. I get it. Just… don’t go letting your fear control you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out “Yeah, okay.”

She shuffles aside a bit, giving him some space, but makes no movement to take her coat back. Not even an aborted grasp towards it, though he can see a line of tension beginning to form in her shoulders that she is clearly fighting.

…oh.

Oh. Of course. Trust. The whole point is trust.

He gathers her coat up in his arms, allowing himself just a moment to appreciate all that just being allowed to touch it would represent, let alone having the entire thing dropped in his lap, and passes it over to her.

“Thanks,” she says as she takes it from him, as though this is in any way a casual exchange. She slings it up and over her shoulders, settling it against her neck where the fur will rest against the few uncovered parts of her skin.

He nods, not entirely trusting his voice.

They sit in silence for a few moments and then she tilts her head to the side.

“So,” she says, drawing the vowel out, deliberately light-hearted, testing the waters “Artix’s thing?”

He thinks it over for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. Considers all of his reasons for saying no; considers the possibilities for saying yes. Thinks about keeping himself locked away where it’s safe; thinks about spending time with people again.

He takes a deep breath in, feels his lungs expand. He thinks about a time when, despite everything, he had trusted himself. Even if you can’t trust yourself right now, can you trust me? He breathes out.

He knows his answer.

“No,” he says, letting the syllable hang in the air for just a moment before turning to face Ro with a small smile “But tell him… maybe next time.”

#dragonfable #dragonfable fanfic #Hero Bhaltair #Warlic #hero appreciation day #it's important to me that you know that less than a minute before this fic begins #Warlic fully and entirely did the 'AGH MY /TEA!"/ thing #and yes I did put in some blink-and-you'll-miss-it language angst in there #bc that one book in the Libraseum is like 'some of these nursery rhymes were phonetically transcribed from lesser known dialects'#and then one of the parodies is A /SCOTS/ NURSERY RHYME #so as far as I'm concerned this particular issue Already Exists In Canon And I Have Proof

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