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arcadiaoaksusedbooks · 4 years

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Balor had gone back to wearing his veil in public, and had been more withdrawn and quiet than before. He was a growing troll, and a Shardborn at that, so his quick growth would lead to some side effects. But growing pains didn’t happen overnight, and neither did depression.

After getting word from others, she found her answer, and took to Trollmarket with furrowed brows. The second someone greeted her, all she would answer with was a stern, quiet, demanding “Vendel.” And she was taken to Vendel.

“Welcome back, Nadia.” the elder greeted once she crossed the threshold into the Heartstone. “It has been a while. How is the surface? Your shop?”

“Vendel,” Nadia sighed, “I would love to visit and chat, but something happened that needs addressing.” She stood by her adoptive brother’s side, her stern and cold stare quickly turning to worried concern. “Something happened to my son here a couple of weeks ago. I just heard about it. Do you know anything? Who did it?”

“Ah.” Vendel sighed. “Yes, I do know what you mean. Before I explain, the culprit was brought to me, made to apologize and promised to never let it happen again.”

“Vendel.” Nadia gave another sigh, feeling exasperated. This was not going to satisfy her, even with an explanation. Vendel gave some solemn nods, sat down himself, and explained with a tired voice.

“Young Balor came here looking for a Year’s End present for you. He did find one, paid for it, but ran into Bruk. I don’t know if you remember Bruk, but he and his friends are Killahead veterans, and became little more than occasional troublemakers here in Trollmarket. Also, I should note, now that you’ve accepted Angor Rot as your family--”

“Vendel.”

“This is relevant, I promise.”

Nadia gave a tired sigh again, but let Vendel continue.

“--it did cause a little unrest in the market. A year ago, not long after Jim became the Trollhunter, Angor Rot was resurrected and hunted him. Angor had gotten his hands on a Horngazel and invaded Trollmarket. He killed several of our residents, including Bruk’s two friends. Bruk survived, and has been grieving ever since.”

Nadia’s eyes turned away for just a second for self reflection, before turning them back to Vendel to listen.

“Bruk saw the face of Angor in a whelp, felt enraged at the trauma resurfacing, and did only what a troll knows--”

“This does not excuse attacking a child.” Nadia said firmly. “A grown troll could be put to death for that.”

“No damage was done to Balor.” Vendel insisted. Nadia balled her fists.

“He has a chip on his horn. That can’t be fixed even with magic.” Nadia explained, through grit teeth. “He’s been hiding in his room ever since. He’s lost all energy to be active at night. He’s wearing his veil again when he goes out. To hide his face! SO HE ISN’T SEEN AS THE SON OF ANGOR ROT ANYMORE!”

Vendel closed his eyes, one hand going to a temple to rub the growing headache away.

“Your frustration is shared with many.” he calmed. “The rest of Trollmarket feels the way you do. How it’s not fair to take the frustrations of a father’s sins on the innocent son. Bruk was caged, and later made to apologize.”

“To whom?!”

“To the market, for a few things he said in the heat of the moment.” He carefully studied Nadia’s still heated glare. “Did you want him to apologize to you? To your son?”

“It would be a start.”

“And do you really think a simple apology will instantly cure what ails young Balor.”

“It. Would. Be--”

“I sympathize with the child, I do, sister.” Vendel sighed himself as he stood up, slowly. Nadia instinctively went to help him. “But there is only so much one can do in the situation. We cannot change what happened to Bruk and his friends, and we cannot change how he thinks. I have done what I can, and I assure you that Balor is safe here if and when he comes to visit again.”

Nadia turned her head away, frustrated. Was this really all that was going to happen? Vendel put a patient hand on her shoulder.

“What would you suggest we do to rectify this?” he asked.

Nadia turned her head, opened her mouth, and found just a single sound came out. “Ah--” She couldn’t answer. What more could be done? She was near angry enough to suggest capitol punishment, but did this really warrant it?

“You’re angry and protective, as a mother should be.” Vendel explained. “You feel as if you’ve failed him, and for the first time in your gentle life, you feel the need for vindication.” He was right, and all Nadia could do was give a couple defeated nods of the head. “You can meet with Bruk if you like, and get his side of the story. I don’t know Balor well enough to know what he would like to do. The situation is resolved on our end, and has been for weeks. How we feel about Angor Rot is our own business, but we won’t condemn his family or his kind for his crimes.”

Again, Nadia closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. It didn’t feel fair that everyone else had closure except herself and her son. Balor would probably never come to Trollmarket again, or trust another troll who wasn’t Yateveo. He may never stop hating himself. And she felt powerless to help him.

“I can live without a resolution to this.” she said quietly, looking up to Vendel. “But my son still suffers. I cannot sit by and watch him hate himself over something that couldn’t be helped.”

“I understand.” Vendel nodded. “Talk to him. Let him know that he has friends and family who care. Many of the trolls here are old boulders who have gathered moss for two hundred years, and their opinion is not worth dwelling on. That he’s a gifted young wizard who will build his own legacy and reputation, and that is what everyone will see when they look upon him. Simply being there and supporting him will work its own wonders.”

Nadia could only again give solemn head movements in acknowledgment, which prompted Vendel to pull her close with one arm.

“You did not fail as a parent.” he assured her. “You’re a good mother.” Nadia gave a smile and turned to hug her brother as he gave a small smirk. “You’re just a terrible observer.”

“I--” she balked before pushing herself away. “I am NOT!”

“When did you find out about our new Trollhunter, hm?” Vendel teased as Nadia looked more frustrated. “Or that Angor Rot had come back? Our growing goblin problem? That the bridge was being rebuilt? Did you see any of that during your surveys, sister dear?”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?!” Nadia growled, fighting back laughter.

“We didn’t even know you were in Arcadia.” Vendel chuckled with a smile. “You were still too ashamed to even come say hello. To your own brother.”

“You know why.” Nadia insisted, finally feeling laughter coming through.

“And you know that we forgive you. We move on, enjoying the simple lives we now have. As I said, some of us are moss covered boulders who can’t move on from the old ways. Who are we to say what is and isn’t forgivable?”

“Of course you’re right.” Nadia gave another sigh. The frustration and anger had lessened, at least Vendel knew how to ease the mind. “Very well, I’ll talk to Balor and give him all the motherly love he needs right now.” Her gaze wandered to his potion table. “Before I leave, Vendel, Balor is heading into his adolecence. I’ll need some hair of mountain cats and toad warts to make something for growing pains.”

“Oh dear, already?” Vendel chuckled, going to his bottles. “Shardborn trolls shouldn’t grow so fast, but it should be over before the worst of it hits.” He handed her a bottle of ingredients and a finished product. “Here, treatment for now, and supplies for the medicine you’ll be making once it wears off.”

With a smile, and a couple other pleasantries, Nadia headed off, feeling much better. As she walked home, she only hoped she could give the same peace to her son back in his room.

#prose #well shit its been a while since I did something like this #long post

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themarauderlegacy · 6 years

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The Castle on the Hill

So @dragon-in-drag I’m your secret Santa and this is your Christmas present! I hope you like it! Have a wonderful Christmas!

Christmas holidays had just started and only a few students remained in the castle.

Snow was falling, his phonograph played happy tunes in a corner and the christmas lights in his private rooms were merrily switching colours, while Albus got dressed for dinner.

Perhaps he would take a walk through Hogsmeade later, stop by at the Hog's Head and see if Aberforth would have a drink with him. Or maybe Horace would convince him to visit the Three Broomsticks with Armando.

He turned off the phonograph and put on his hat, ready to head towards the great hall, when Fawkes appeared and settled on his shoulder. Albus smiled at him. "What have you got here?" He took the piece of parchment from his beak and unfolded it.

It was an old map of europe with red spots and crosses sprinkled all over it. Confused he furrowed his brows and turned the map around. Fawkes snuggled his head against Albus' cheek comfortingly.

Merry Christmas xxx GG

For a few long moments he just stared down at the familiar, messy handwriting. A thousand thoughts rushed through his head, before he looked at Fawkes again.

"Where have you been?", he murmured, turning the parchment back to examine the route of the red spots.

They started in scotland, led to denmark and halted at a cross in greece. From there they went to bulgaria and lithuania, to a cross in sweden. Then down to hungary and finally they stopped at the biggest cross in the middle of germany.

He traced the line with his fingers, when he heard a knock on his door and Horace bursted into his rooms. "Albus, what is taking you so long? The children are waiting and Armando doesn't want to start dinner until everyone is there."

Horace smiled at him broadly and Albus reciprocated, if less enthusiastic. "I'm sorry, Horace, do give my apologies to Armando, but I have to leave the castle for a few days."

Horace looked surprised. "What for, if I may ask?"

"An old friend sent for me. I won't be gone for too long."

Horace sighed dramatically. "I will hope so. I want to toast with you on New Years Eve."

Albus gave him a smile and bid him goodnight before he started packing a small case with a few things he would need. He apparated from Hogsmeade to Newcastle and got on a ferry to Kopenhagen.

He didn't know what he was looking for exactly, but when he arrived at the harbour he was met by two broad young men in dark blue velvet robes, which were held together by a big silver button in shape of the deathly hallows sign.

They escorted him to an old mansion, where dozens of young boys and girls dueled, wearing the same shade of blue.

Upon meeting them, he discovered that they were all lost children and they all thought to have found a home among the others.

A girl of 15 told him that her parents had been killed by a muggle explosion during the first world war and that she had left Durmstrang, because some boys had harassed her and nobody had done anything about it. A man in a blue robe had picked her up in Stockholm and brought her to denmark, where she was living with all the other homeless teenagers now.

A 17 years old boy had run away from home after his father had beaten his squib brother to death.

And another young man had just finished Durmstrang and was extraordinarily scared of dying ever since he had survived a crash on a muggle train two tears ago.

There were more. So many more. And they all talked with the same fierce defiance about their cause. About the Greater Good.

He flooed over to greece the same night and found himself in an old muggle factory. A lot of wizards of all nationalities were brewing potions and tending to wide fields, where mandrakes and gillyweed and wolfsbane and much more was growing.

He spent one night in each bulgaria and lithuania in saloons, where witches and wizards in the familiar blue robes met, discussing hierarchy and muggle culture. They used the term Greater Good rather often, but never mentioned the hallows. It made him cringe and the others looked at him skeptically, some even aggravated, but nobody ever tried to hurt him.

In sweden he was shown a farm with dragons and acromantulas, giants and trolls, while he met a group of young children in Hungary, none of them older than 8. Each one of them traumatized and each of them with their own caregiver. A little girl asked him to read her the story of the three brothers and his heart almost stopped, when he took in the sight of her blonde hair and brown eyes and the burned marks on her arms. When two small boys got into a fight, one of them exploded in a cloud of darkness and it took his caregiver half an hour to reach him again at all.

From Hungary, a carriage pulled by thestrals brought him to Germany. They landed deep in the black forest. The coachman opened the door for him and left silently as soon as Albus got out of the carriage.

Alone then, he looked around curiously until a pair of hands covered his eyes. "Merry Christmas", a deep familiar voice whispered close to his ear. He grabbed Gellert's wrists, but didn't pull them away. "Come on." Gellert kept his eyes covered and slowly led him through the forest. He didn't know, why he let it happen. He could've stopped it. But then again, he had traveled across half of europe, following Gellert's call, he was pathetic already and - as ashamed as he was to admit it - he liked the steady feeling of Gellert's warm body close behind him and the thrill of adventure that had overcome him.

When they stopped and Gellert took his hands off of his eyes, they stood in front of a grand, apparently new castle. It was made of light stone with three high towers and many windows and ivy that covered the facade.

He turned to Gellert and froze the second that he looked at him. He wore a blue robe, too and his hair was still blonde and curly, but it had lost its warm gold, looking almost icy now and it was cut in a horrible manner. His face was still beautiful, but it was not the boyish kind of beautiful anymore, he had clearly grown out of that. Everything about him seemed to have gotten sharper, colder and more defined. It was a different kind of handsome, but Albus - despite himself - felt rather attracted to it.

"What is this?", Albus asked, keeping a straight face, gesturing towards the castle.

"Your Christmas present", Gellert replied, smiling in satisfaction.

Albus raised his eyebrows. "You give me a castle?"

"I built it for you. Well, I made workers build it, but I financed it and designed it and all that. Do you like it?"

Albus glanced over his shoulder at the castle and then back at Gellert. "You built me a castle?" He didn't even know how to feel about that, it was just so absurd.

"You've gotten slow, Albus." His eyes were twinkling in amusement. "That happens if you continuedly surround yourself with people far beneath your abilities."

Albus shook his head slowly. "I don't have a present for you", he said dryly. Gellert started grinning. He nodded towards the heavy doors and opened them wide to let Albus in.

The hall was vast with a wooden floor and moving pictures across the walls. There was a small desk and a cabinet with flowers on it and a hall stand and it was all flooded with bright warm light from a chandelier. A house elf took their cloaks and another one led them to the dining hall.

Dinner was extraordinary. Albus had to admit the house elves did an even better job than the elves at Hogwarts and when Gellert opened the first bottle of wine, Albus raised an eyebrow.

"What are we doing here?", he asked.

"Having dinner", Gellert replied innocently.

"I haven't seen you in years. I heard what you've been doing and those things aren't very flattering. You sent me across the continent to give me a castle for Christmas. Forgive me, but don't you think that sounds rather ridiculous?"

Gellert smirked. "I remember a time, when you were a rather funny man." He pushed one of the glasses in Albus' direction.

Albus shook his head, but took it anyway.

"I do not see the purpose of my being here."

"This is your castle."

"And what would I do with a castle?"

"Live in it?" Gellert proposed raising his glass in cheers, before taking a sip. "I remember - when we were young - you wished for a castle. You wished to be king, the leader of a revolution." He spread his arms. "I'm giving it to you."

Albus took a big sip of his wine. "I am very happy to be teaching, nowadays."

"You can teach! Teach the children. You've seen them in Kopenhagen. It's so hard to find good teachers anyway."

"I don't want to teach them how to be warriors in your war. I want to help them."

"These children don't have a home. Many of them thought to have lost all purpose in life. I am helping them."

Albus chuckled, emptied his glass and leaned forward to look at Gellert. "What is this about?"

"I want you to join me. I want you by my side, like we had always planned. I will give you everything. I am giving you this castle. You can do whichever work you want. You want to alter some of my resolutions? I'm willing to listen."

Albus shook his head. "No."

"Just think about it," Gellert waved his hand nonchalantly and filled up their glasses again.

"I don't need to think about it."

Gellert sighed. "Fine." He stood up and sat down right next to Albus again. "Stay the night then."

"Why would I?" He felt the alcohol taking its toll on him and Gellerts proximity far too welcome.

"Because you want to." He let Gellert open his tie. "You traveled across the whole continent just because of a letter that had my name on it. How very telling."

Albus smiled, taking Gellert's hands that now started to slowly unbutton his waistcoat. "In favour of the entire wizarding world. Someone needs to keep an eye on you."

Gellert let out a laugh. "Keep telling yourself that." And then he kissed him, intoxicatingly slow and Albus couldn't help, but surrender to it.

They ended up in the ridiculously large bed in the master bedroom and didn't fall asleep until early morning.

"I missed this," Gellert murmured into his hair, when they woke up around noon the next day. Albus smiled sadly, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. "This is not real, you know."

"Is it not?"

"No. You're still you and I'm still me. This doesn't change anything."

"You could still join me. We could have this everyday."

"Or you could give up your plans and we could have this everyday."

Gellert chuckled. "I'd be worried, if I thought only for one second that you really think I would do that. I am going to change the world."

Albus propped himself up on one elbow in order to look Gellert in the eyes.

"One can change the world in many ways. If you continue your violent path, I will stop you someday."

Gellert laughed, putting a hand on his cheek. "No you won't. Do you want to know why? I have shown you all of my most important installments, we spent the night in the same bed, unarmed and yet you have done nothing to harm me or prevent me from pursuing my goals. You still love me, you're still attached to me and that is why you will never be able to bring yourself to go against me."

"You underestimate me."

Gellert touched his lips ever so slightly. "It's a shame. You waste all your potential when we could be so great together." He caught his gaze. "I am sorry about your sister."

At that Albus' face closed off and he sat up to withdraw himself from him. "Wait!" Gellert sat up, as well, grabbing his arm. "I never meant for that to happen. She deserved so much better. But it was an accident. I understand that we needed separation for a while, but why shouldn't we start all over again now?"

Albus closed his eyes for a second, then turned around and put a hand on Gellert's cheek. "You're right. I love you, I don't know what needs to happen for me to stop loving you. But there is so much that you don't understand." He swallowed and kissed him one more time, before he got up and started putting on his clothes again.

Gellert sighed. "This is still yours, you know. If you ever need an escape, this will be here, the elves will be waiting for you and if you ever want to contact me, you will find a way to do so here."

#hp #albus dumbledore #gellert grindelwald #life and lies of Albus dumbledore #grindeldore holiday exchange 2017 #hope you like it!#merry Christmas!

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jean-the-demolitionist · 7 years

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While Barbara and Stricklander going out on a date to the costume party of the hospital, Jim and his friends want to use the night of Halloween to have some fun time. But Jean and Rico (NotEnrique) have their own idea of fun and cause trouble wherever they can.

Yeah, a Halloween themed story in spring, I know. But I really got attached to that random idea I recently had and wanted to write it down. I plan on doing 5 chapters for this, two with Barbara and Stricklander, two with Jim and the group and the last one with them all together. Let's see how well this goes. This would be actually in the timeline of my Redemption Story.

The first dozen times it was amusing to watch the humans using all kinds of excuses to dress up in either a very fancy way or to scare others. In his first years as human Stricklander even participated in the dress ups with eager. But with the decades it got more and more tedious and lost its appeal. What was the joy in dressing up and pretending to be someone else, when it's something you do all day long? Even when he wasn't lying about his true self anymore, he hardly could find the joy of such festivities as Halloween again, since the traditions had changed so drastically in a way he wasn't very pleased with.

Albeit, there were still a few things he enjoyed from this holiday, the pumpkin carving as example. He had joined this activity to show Jim and his friend how to properly carve a pumpkin, but somehow it ended with him and Jim having some kind of competition who could carve pumpkins the quickest. Stricklander had been able to declare himself the winner, which was most satisfying, but hadn't saved him from cleaning up the mess with the others.

Another amusing event had been, when Draal had opened the door for some early trick-or-treaters. He had refused to give the children candies, mostly because he didn't know about this tradition. As a result they had thrown rotten eggs at the Troll, when he had been out in the garden. Stricklander and Jean hadn't been able to hold back and laugh at Draal when he had looked like a stunned mullet, while Jim had to stop the Troll from either attacking the children or the Changelings.

As soon as the sun had completely set the Human teenagers, Trolls (besides Draal) and Changelings had left the house to watch the Halloween parade and go on a short trick-or-treat round. Stricklander couldn't help the sense of unease sliding through him at the thought of letting Jean go outside on a night where playing pranks was the norm, but he hadn't want to rob the girl from her only opportunity to be among human crowds. He just had to trust Jim and the other to have a watchful eye on her.

Right now Stricklander sat on the couch in the living room, nervously fidgeting with the newspapers. He hated being nervous, but he couldn't help it.

A few days ago Barbara had asked him, if he would come with her to the Halloween party of the hospital. He had been very surprised by this, for one because he was pretty sure she was still - of course justified - mad at him for what he had done to her and he hadn't gone out since he only had his troll form now. But Barbara had a good point, people would simply assume it was a costume and when she dropped the word 'date' during her speech he readily agreed to come.

While his Troll form covered the costume for him, Barbara hadn't told him yet what she would dress up as, saying it would be a surprise. Stricklander knew that she was a proper woman, so he doubted that she would wear one of these indecent things that a lot of Human females liked to wear this age, much to his dislike. He had no problem with admitting that he was old-fashioned. It simply was his opinion that those costumes shouldn't be worn in public.

Barbara had been up in her room since afternoon, when she had ordered them to clean up and Stricklander started to wonder if she would need help with her costume. He had just stood up, when he heard steps from above leaving Barbara's room.

"Sorry that I took so long. Should've kept in mind that the body paint takes a while to dry up," Barbara called to him, while she walked down.

Body paint? With a raised eyebrow Stricklander left the living room to meet her at the staircase. When he spotted her at the last steps of it, he stopped dead in his track and his eyes went wide.

Barbara wore a black, long-sleeved, fringed dress that only had laces to cover her sternum and back. The skin, that wasn't covered by the dress, was colored in a shimmering teal color, which made her hair - which she currently wore open, only tied up together at the tip of it - stand out so much more. It took him several seconds to notice the little horns on her head and the drawn markings on the teal skin. She looked like a...like a...

"So, what do you say?" she asked him after she had descended the stairs completely and turned one time around so he could inspect her from all sides. "I have the feeling that the dress might be a bit too fancy for a troll costume, but I hadn't had a chance to wear it for years."

Stricklander was still so flabbergasted by her appearance that he didn't react immediately. The dress wasn't cut in any risqué way, but his heart still thumped very hard in his chest by the sight of her half covered legs and back. She looked utterly attractive right now and her glasses, that she still wore, gave her whole look an adorable note. Only after a few seconds he was able to react by shaking his head and stammered slightly.

"T-Troll?"

It was rather obvious with how accurate Barbara had made this Troll costume, even when it would be more correct to label her as a Changeling for her more human shape. But Stricklander couldn't care less about this little detail right now. In his eyes Barbara had always been one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his long life, tho he had to admit it always had been the human part of him who thought so. With her looking like this it was now the turn of his Troll side to appreciate this gorgeous sight before him.

"Since half of the family is going out as Trolls, I wanted to follow the trend," Barbara explained with a shrug, but then looked to the side with a nervous smile "And well....I thought it would be a nice idea to have some kind of...couple costume."

When his heart had thumped hard before, it was now leaping up to his throat. He wanted to be happy about this, because when this wasn't a major hint then he didn't know what it was. But he hard such a hard time right now to comprehend this, why Barbara was still so nice to him, after all the things he had done.

Meanwhile Barbara was misinterpreting his shocked state and started to fumble with her hands.

"Oh boy, I really hope I didn't do something offensive with this. Maybe I really should've asked before." she mumbled, when Stricklander suddenly talked again.

"Why?" The question was asked rather quiet and Barbara looked up to him with a confused expression. He continued with a sigh. "Why are you doing this Barbara? I mean...I don't want to appear ungrateful, but there is certainly somebody more suitable you...you could go with to the party."

"What do you mean with more suitable?" Barbara asked with a frown.

"Someone who's default state isn't a monster!" Stricklander pointed at himself, voice gone rather angrily. But than he deflated and looked guilty to the ground. "Someone who hasn't taken advantage of you to protect their own sorry life."

"And that's all?" she asked almost nonchalant, which makes him looking up puzzled. "Walt, you are living here for months, I'm used to the way you look now."

"Being used to and...that are two different things," he grumbled, not really clarifying what that exactly was.

"Still, I'm a grown woman and I can decide for myself, if I like this true form of you or not." Barbara stepped closer and started to poke his chest "And yes, you did a lot of horrible things. Using me as shield, threatening Jim and his friends, wanting to kill him and god knows what."

With every poke Stricklander went back a step and made himself smaller. Guilt was clear on his face and he looked ashamed to the side. Barbara stops with the poking and smiled at him again.

"But you are showing remorse and trying to fix things. You are protecting us with your life." He dared to look to her and her smile grew even more warm. "Maybe Jim and I won't never really forgive you for the things you've done in the past. But we trust you now that you won't do these things again." Carefully she took his hands in hers. "Besides I do remember saying that I like spending time with you. And that hasn't changed."

"Barbara..." His voice was hoarse from all the emotion that were caused by her words. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then looked at her again, expression full of gratitude, but still with a hint of doubt. "I'm really not sure if I deserve this..."

"You do. You have earned yourself some good things, so get used to it," she grinned and squeezed his hand, whereupon he had to chuckle. Since he seemed to be okay again, Barbara changed the topic back to her costume.

"So, you still haven't told me how I look like. I need the opinion of a professional." she said and looked expectant at him. Stricklander hummed, but before he answered he leant down and raised her hands to his lips to kiss them.

"You look more beautiful than any gemstone I've ever seen," he gave his opinion in a deep tone. His voice and the way he looked so enamored at her made Barbara blush and giggle a bit bashfully.

"I think I like this trollish smooth-talking."

"Well, I could go on all evening, if you want to," he said in a suave manner, his confidence - and also hope - boosted after Barbara's little speech. His reward was another cute giggle from her, but before she could reply the loud bang of the backdoor interrupted them. They looked into the direction of the kitchen and heard Draal's distinctly mumble of "Fleshbag children."

"He calls himself the Deadly, but is afraid of a few human children," Stricklander scoffed and straighten up again. Barbara let go of his hands and put her's on the hips.

"You would also be afraid of them, if they would aim with eggs at you." she said with a smirk that he returned.

"Can't argue with that." He then went to the front door and opened it for Barbara. "But for now, we should go. Fashionably late is good, but we don't want to be too late, right?"

"Of course not," she said and rolled her eyes in fond annoyance and grabbed her purse to follow him outside to the car.

#Trollhunters #Stricklander #Walter Strickler #Barbara Lake #Stricklake #Draal #Halloween Story #My Writing

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