Sometimes he felt sorry for the kid. But only sometimes. Claire made it exceptionally hard to pity her. She was determined, presumptuous, and she gave back as good as she got. He often found himself setting out to intentionally aggravate her just to spark an argument which would devolve into insults and –if he were particularly lucky – colorful profanities in a different language. At first it was always Spanish by default but since he'd been helping her learn troll often the cursing was getting more creative. It was great.

But those rare moments when he caught her gazing longingly at picture frames or absently petting a ratty stuffed bunny he felt his chest tighten uncomfortably. That he actually cared anything for her beyond a source of amusement had been a gradual realization for him. There was no sudden dawning 'ah-ha!' moment but instead each day a small bud of warmth had grown a little larger within him.

The battle at Killahead sealed it and made him realize just how much he had grown fond of her and her little friends but the seeds had been planted long before that. It was always a risk that ran with changelings, the possibility of becoming attached to one's host family. It didn't happen often but he was hardly the first case ever. Who could blame the ones who did end up growing too fond of their humans? It wasn't like they got that level of love and tenderness in the Dark Lands.

He didn't regret his choice.

"Ugh! This makes no sense!" Claire was in the floor surrounded by books and tugging her hair in frustration. "I thought this word meant "sacrament" why is it showing up here as something like transportation?"

The changeling packed away his heavy musings and turned his attention to the very subject of his previous thoughts. "'And it 'ere and I'll give it a look," he offered and flexed his claws in her direction.

She rolled over to him and passed the open book to where he sat on her bed. "Hm," he traced his finger down the page trying to find where she'd been. "Ah! That's 'cuz it's talkin' 'bout a ship. S'a name."

"A ship? I didn't think trolls had those."

"They don't. Not typically, any'ow. This one was stolen from some human pirates, looks like. And sunk shortly after. Now! How's about a break and you run an fetch us a snack?"

Claire rolled her eyes and took the book back. "How about no?"

"Ah, come on, sis. Be a peach, will ya?" He snickered at the unimpressed look she threw his way before pointedly turning back to the book she had borrowed from Jim. "Guess I'll jus' go and get me somethin' myself then."

Claire gave a loud and annoyed sigh of resignation as she slapped a book mark into place and stood up. Her parents were home and he knew that. "You're such a pain," she told him with a glare. Her tone didn't hold half as much heat when she next asked, "What do you want?" She could actually use a break, she'd been reading for almost two hours and her back and shoulders showed it in their stiffness.

"Mum thrown out that box of Chinese yet?"

"Ugh, it's five days old by now. She probably has but if not I'll sneak it up. Maybe it'll keep you out of the cat's litter box." She made a gagging noise and scrunched her nose as she left the room to his laughter. At least he hadn't eaten the actual cat yet. Although, according to Jim and Toby, that was a close call at one time.

When she got to the kitchen she found the box of takeout was still sitting in the back of the refrigerator. She took a quick glance into the living room and saw that her mother was asleep and resting against her father's shoulder while he watched television. She grabbed herself a banana and the slimy carton for Notenrique before quietly heading back to her room.

She wasn't surprised when she tossed him the carton that he ate the whole thing, including the box, in one bite. He gave an exaggerated lick of his lips and patted his stomach in satisfaction. "I think you pride yourself on trying to gross me out," she accused him as she plopped down onto her bed, causing him to bounce in place a bit.

"Eh, maybe I do?" He shuffled over to her and propped his arms on her stomach as he watched her eat. "Can I 'ave the skin?" She obligingly took the rest of the fruit out and handed him the peel.

With her free hand she absently scratched his scruff. "You stink," she told him. "You smell slightly better than a dumpster that's been sweltering in the sun for days."

The troll let out a full belly laugh and nuzzled into her side. "Aw, you flatter me."

"No really, have you ever considered a bath? Ever?"

"Sweet-talker."

"I've been meaning to ask," she shifted to fluff her pillow as she changed the subject, "does it ever bother you that we always call you Notenrique? I mean, you've probably got an actual name."

"Nah, we changelings don't really get names. Typically we just pick somethin' for ourselves that we like once we're old enough. Only the dumb ones keep the names they're called by in the Dark Lands, seein' how they're usually always an insult." He shrugged with a nonchalance that she didn't believe was sincere. "I kinda like Notenrique. Better 'n some of the other stuff I've been saddled with. I may even keep it. Not like I'll ever take up another changeling gig after this so no point in pickin' a different one."

Claire's eyes were wide and it took her a few minutes to find her voice again. "Wow, that's messed up. But I guess not all that surprising. Still, sucks though."

"Eh, it's not the worst thing," he shifted around so that he was lying on his back and his head resting on her stomach. "We changelings 'ave it pretty shitty. Never mind all the nasty magic they do to make us changelings in the first place but take the switch for example. Gotta shrink down enough to pass as a baby. If it 'appens that you're already short then it's no big deal, your human skin just wont end up bein' all that tall. But shape-shifting magic's still gotta account for all that extra mass. If a full sized troll tried to pass as a baby then mummy dearest would notice the fifty ta two hundred pounds difference pretty quick.

Take Nomura for example. Her human self was dainty but if you'd tried to lift her all that extra weight is still there. But she had to wait and get her inches back. It's a pretty ugly twenty year enchantment that only gradually wears off."

Claire had been sitting in rapt silence as he explained some of these finer points of being a changeling. "So are you one of the short ones or did they shrink you?"

"Yeah, without all this bindin' in place, when I'm in me true skin, I'm almost as tall as that ol' bag of dicks, Stricklander," he told her with a toothy grin."Course, bein' this size isn't too bad. Definitely has it's perks."

"Did it hurt? When they shrunk you? Jim told me Blinky used a machine on him once that turned him gnome sized but he said it didn't hurt and it certainly didn't last twenty years."

"Everythin' they do to a changeling is meant ta hurt," he told her solemnly. "Unless they're offerin' a reward for good service."

He felt her swallow thickly and then she was sitting up and wrapping him in an unexpected hug. He stiffened on instinct but gradually relaxed and hugged her back. "Now, don't go gettin' all sappy on me," he teased as he broke free. His ears twitched and he looked towards her closed door. "Welp, there goes the t.v off. Better go back to me crib before they catch me up." He gave her dark hair a parting pat before swiftly scampering out of the room.

Claire sat on her bed in silence for several long minutes, unsure how she felt about all that she'd just learned.

O-_-o-_-O

It was well after midnight when Notenrique crept back into Claire's room. He'd been fretting about having told her so much earlier but part of him had been eager to have someone else know. She was fast asleep by now and he debated on going back to the crib but decided against it. Hell, he had thrown in his lot with these humans and he was going to let himself reap some of the perks.

Stealthily he made his way onto the bed and curled up beside her. He would catch hell from anyone else who knew him for this level of sentimentality. But, there wasn't anyone else to see, so what would it hurt to let himself revel in a little tenderness? Changelings didn't belong to anyone but themselves and he knew he would probably still get a raw deal even after switching sides. He peeked up at the sleeping girl who he insisted on calling sister. To her, he was probably just a place holder. She only wanted her real brother back. Where would that leave him when she succeeded?

He shoved the thought away. Maybe a month or two ago that would have been the case. But they were practically family now, weren't they? She had hugged him just earlier that very night! Even if she got her real brother back, surely she wouldn't simply kick him to the curb afterwards. He swallowed and burrowed a little closer into the covers.

He wondered why it had only been brought up once before that if anyone were to bring the real Enrique back, he would be the best candidate to do it. He knew the Dark Lands and where to find the Nursery, as Toby had once pointed out. The Tollhunter still had the Fetch…

He buried his face into the soft cotton of Claire's blanket as he debated. This was not the first time he had entertained the idea. He wouldn't ever consider himself the hero type but perhaps he might make an exception. There was no rush, though. Claire's brother was perfectly safe, he hadn't been lying about that. Still, if they waited too long it would be really awkward to transition him back. Stolen babies never aged in the Dark Lands whereas human infants grew rather rapidly on earth. In a few months he would be expected to start entering other stages of development. The longer they waited the harder it would be to explain the sudden appearance of a younger baby.

Maybe he would bring it up in the morning. Right now he didn't want to think about it any more. He closed his eyes and shoved his nose into Claire's side and willed himself to go to sleep. Despite being naturally nocturnal his habits had been shifting lately and soon he drifted off to the steady rhythm of the girl's breathing.

Some time in the early morning Claire rolled over, slightly waking up in the process. It was still dark out and she was more than happy to go back to sleep but a weight beside her caught her attention. Her hand moved slowly in the darkness and she felt the cool, rough hide of Notenrique. Her lips quirked and she filed this moment away for later when he would inevitably revert to being a little shit and she could hold it over him. She brushed the stiff bristles of his scruff briefly before stretching and rolling back over to get comfortable again.

She didn't know when they had gone from barely tolerating each other to him sneaking into her bed for a secret cuddle that she was sure she wasn't suppose to be aware of. But here they were. Her soft smile didn't fade as she slipped back into dreams.

So this is just a pile of headcanons I've been wanting to play with. I think I'll have it existing within the same universe as "A Fantastic Upheaval" but it's really a stand alone fic. Also, I apologize now for every time NotEnrique speaks. I debated long and hard about trying to write out his cockney accent and then a friend said to go with it so I did. It's likely inconsistent but I did try.