Winning the war is sometimes easier than coming home and living in the aftermath. Even those physically unmarked often carry their own burdens...

Claire/Merlin

Claire looked out over the streets of the city. Full of people. Students, some of them her age, some of them older, adults, parents pushing their children in strollers, and sitting at the cafe…

Claire. Jim wasn't here. Not with a bright sun shining in the cold winter sky, but he'd chivvied her out of New Trollmarket, and Blinky had agreed. "You're not joined at the hip!" he'd told them.

Then he'd whispered to Claire "That was on a list of sayings your parents have sent me."

So here she was. She'd gone into a bookstore, read a little, sat, taking in the crowds when there was no worry, no possible danger, just people.

And she felt alone.

"My teacher is going to totally freak if I don't get that test in…" Someone her age, wailing to her friends. It had been months since Claire had worried about that. She'd been taking distance learning, but graduate with her school? Never. At most, she'd have a note that she had graduated but not attended graduation.

And worse of all? I don't know if I'd belong. They'd done so much. She'd seen people die. She'd seen people almost die—like Jim. She had almost died.

And she'd killed. Trolls were people, just like humans and she had killed them. Some of them were victims of Gunmar's blade.

They were dead and here she was sipping hot chocolate. She'd given orders, led, and now…

What now? Was she just going to spend the rest of her life working in New Trollmarket? Go back to some school where people would pat her on the head and tell her she'd understand when she was older?

"Ah, Fair Claire. May I sit down?"

She looked up and then blinked. Merlin? He was wearing a tailored suit, silver cuff-links gleaming in the light and wore it with the same ease he wore his armor.

"You—is that magic?"

"Well,the tailor had tools that would have once been considered magic, but no, I purchased this. Your economic system is actually fairly easy to understand, once you have a chance to sit down and think about it." He smiled, looking around. "As is much of your society. Do you know I learned today that childbed death is so rare as to be considered a great tragedy? In my time it was… an inevitability. I am happy that Jim's mother has such an honorable calling." He sat down and gestured to the waitress.

"Well, she isn't very happy with you."

I'm not, either.

"For manipulating the Trollhunter? Cutting him off from your council and convincing him that transforming himself was the only hope to defeat Gunmar? She is not the only one, though I do not apologize. Regardless, I pray that you and your lover will be able to ensure that he is the last such sacrifice that is needed."

"What about you?"

"I will spend some time tutoring you. Then I expect to retire, spend my time traveling, exploring this world." Suddenly Merlin looked up at her, and his eyes were…

Tired.

"I have buried my parents, my friends. My boon companions—too many. You may find it strange, but this old man had friends as close as Jim, as Toby…and I have outlived them all. I could tell you stories that would have us all roaring in laughter…" He closed his eyes. "And you would nod politely, but not understand because you don't have the memories, the experience. It can be a terrible thing to be the last at the table that used to be filled with so many friends."

"You didn't try very hard," Claire muttered. She was still angry, remembering her frantic hammering on the door.

"No. I'm very used to manipulating people, seeing them as objects. It's easier, you see. I am, in my way, just as monstrous as Morganna was. Which is why I must retire. This world, this wonderful, complex, gentle world, needs guardians who have not been rendered callous by too many centuries of life."

"Gentle?"

"Oh, Fair Claire, you have no idea." Merlin took a sip of the coffee that the waitress had brought. "Wonderful food, though using forks and knives for everything can be a bit confusing."

"I don't know…" Claire shook her head. "I'm…"

"You're a child who became a soldier, a follower who had to become a leader. As did Jim. As did Toby." Merlin said softly. "In my time, war came upon us earlier, but even among Uther and Arthur, you three would have been held in esteem—especially because you had so little preparation." He looked over at a group of teens, mooning at a boy-band magazine. "But there is the price. None of them have killed. None of them have felt the terror of death. That is a gulf that will take some time and work to overcome. And then there will be others who do not know or who do not care what you've done, and will expect you to fade back into your place and play the obedient child once again."

"So, what do you want me to do, ignore them?" Claire said.

"If you want to end up like me, certainly."

What?

"After all, if it's hard to get back, to talk to people who might not understand, you can always just throw yourself into another desperate conflict. Spend your time spinning webs and making plans and then you may never be able to go back."

"I really don't want to just go back to…" Claire stared at a girl, wailing that her life was over, over because she was grounded on Saturday. Last Saturday, they'd been dealing with a sudden outbreak of angry rock-hounds that had decided they wanted to snack on Troll.

"Then don't. Demand to be treated as an adult, make them treat you on your own terms, Fair Claire, but that doesn't mean you must forever stand apart." Merlin smiled. "I have a theater presentation to see—Camelot, if you can believe it. But I do have one last suggestion."

"What?"

Merlin handed her a card, a number written on it in his elegant script. "Doctor Lake and I were talking, a process made much easier by a lack of brooms that can strike me through a phone. She suggested that you and Jim might have issues adapting, and suggested a friend of hers, a New Jersey doctor specializing in P.T.S.D." Merlin pronounced each letter separately. "Apparently, it is a field that helps individuals deal with past experiences. She suggested that had I had it in my time, I may have been less of a 'flaming asshole.'"

Claire burst out into laughter. "Doctor Lake said that?"

"Yes. Those who save the world never receive the thanks that is due to them, though she did offer to pay for a lobotomy for me, whatever that is." Claire looked up and realized that there was a gleam of humor in the ancient wizard's eyes.

"Well, she's right."

"Oh, perfectly so. She and Arthur could have spent days listing my faults." A flicker of memory passed through his eyes, and Claire caught Merlin glance at the empty seat at the table, as if he expected someone to be there. Then, he shook his head. "So!" Merlin said. "I must be off. Just remember, after playing such a role in saving this delightful world, it would be a pity if you and the Trollhunter cut yourselves off from it." Then he was walking, a silver headed walking stick in one hand (and where had he gotten that!) the crowds almost unconsciously parting around him.

Claire stared, watching as Merlin vanished into the crowds, then picked up the card. She had been having bad dreams but…

Right. First thing tomorrow, talk to mom and dad about getting emancipated. I can't help the trolls if I have truant and curfew officers breathing down my back. Then call this doctor and find out if he'll also talk to trollhunters. Then, talk to Jim about how we're going to make a home here. People know about trolls now, so there's no sense hiding in the shadows… Claire looked up at the crowds around her.

Merlin was right. They'd paid to save this world. Why couldn't they be a part of it?