Disclaimer: Don't own Trollhunters or any of its characters.
Hey! Finally got back to this story. School is over and I can finally focus on writing again. Big thanks to Daylighteclipsed for letting me use their idea and revising my story and Charlie who is my other beta-reader. I couldn't have done this without you guys. I hope you enjoy this new chapter.
Chapter 4
He is nineteen when he sees his friends again.
It is not under the greatest of circumstances.
They're losing. Badly. Angor Rot lost a hand in battle, poor bastard. Jim came out far better, leaving with a long vertical gash across his eye which he knew would leave a scar. His eye is still functional at least.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend as they say," Morgana remarks as they descend the staircase to their new war room.
Jim nods quietly.
The previous was destroyed by a wave of Kuberas that Gunmar sent weeks before. Jim told her to move the base out of California (where Gunmar too resides), but the witch was insistent on keeping it here. Something about powerful interconnecting ley lines. Still, it was the closest Morgana had been assassinated thus far, which is why she was meeting with the others now.
Her arm snakes around his own. His breath hitches. "Tobias is quite the little mastermind, isn't he? To have come up with this idea."
"Tobes is smarter than you give him credit for. He and AAARRRGGHH! took down Usurna after all."
He swallows back the bile forming at the back of his throat. His knees feel weak with every step. Beyond the door below, Toby and the others are waiting for them.
Would they miss him? Would they hate him?
"Ah yes, that little traitor. I was quite furious when I found out about her little betrayal. Well, good riddance." Her other arm encircles Jim's back, pulling him closer. "Why are you still wearing your helmet, my Trollhunter?"
"Does it matter?"
"Are you afraid of your little friends seeing you?" Her fingers spider-crawl up his arm. Thank god he can't feel it in his armor, otherwise he might have shivered.
Jim focuses his eyes on the approaching door. "What is it you're getting at?"
"I want you to take more pride in your appearance," she says
"And I want you to not try killing my friends." Jim retorts.
She stills her hand, a small secretive smile emerging atop her pale face. "Are you trying to make a deal with me, little Trollhunter?"
There it is, Jim thinks, the real root of the meeting. He knew Morgana wouldn't arrange this without a plan to kill off her enemies, allies or not.
"And if I am?" He tests the waters.
"It's going to take quite a lot more than that," she says. "What else have you to offer?"
He contemplates his next words. "What else is there that you want?"
Wrong answer, he later learns. Never bargain with Morgana without knowing what you're getting into.
Her lips curl even more. "You act so obstinate at times, disobeying my orders. Even Angor Rot doesn't do that."
Ah, she is still sore about him not killing the group of human soldiers that wandered into their territory last week. Jim raises an eyebrow. "So you want me to obey you? Don't I do that enough already?"
"As long as you obey my orders for today, I won't kill your friends." Morgana's eyes flicker up to his helmet, her finger tapping against it. "And you don't wear your helmet to the meeting. I like seeing your face."
Jim bites down on the inner part of his cheek, wincing as one of his fangs draw blood. No matter how long he has spent in this body, it is never normal.
He ponders over her words. It is a terrible deal, but what other choice does he have? If it means protecting his friends and family from her wrath, then he'd do anything.
"Alright." He wills the helmet to disappear. "But only for today."
She rolls her neck, his marks peeking out from under her collar. The action is purposeful. His pupils flicker between round and slit at the sight.
She curls her index finger at him. He bends over, close enough for her to reach the top of his head.
Cool hands reach out to brush back his long bangs. "There's my little Trollhunter."
He doesn't respond to her pet name.
"You're so quiet." She wraps a finger around one of his longer strands of hair and twists it, round and round, then tugs. "You weren't quiet last night."
His nostrils flare. Thoughts arise without warning—her flesh against his own, his fangs against her throat. Her soft whispering in his ear as he takes her, so much like Claire and yet not. The way she grabs his horns, drawing out growls and other sounds he never knew his body could emit. He hates how easily she gets under his skin, how inhuman she makes him feel.
Jim counts backwards in his head, trying to calm down. It is becoming increasingly harder to keep control. Morgana does not appear to mind. In fact, she encourages this side of him, the foreign monster that claws at his last vestiges of humanity. Sometimes, it feels like he's the only one who experiences this. He wishes he read more about troll biology . He doesn't remember any of his troll friends having these issues. Did it have something to do with the way Morgana made him?
He tries to change the subject. "Who else came with Toby?"
"You'll just have to see and find out," she says, waving her hand at the door. It glows and opens.
Despite the destruction Gunmar's trolls have brought, the room is relatively the same. A crescent table sits to one side of the room while in the middle there is an elevated platform with a throne. Jim never likes to go near it. There is something off about its make. Perhaps because it is too perfect, too symmetrical to be part of this world. Shadows stretch and dance across the floor, the only source of light coming from the torches that illuminate the area. Nevertheless, he sees them, clear as day.
Jim's eyes widen.
It is amazing how much everyone has changed in the last three years. They stand on the other side of the crescent table, talking amongst themselves in whispers, which stop the moment he and Morgana enter.
He recognizes his old classmates. Steve and Eli are taller, but thinner too, with grim expressions and tight shoulders. They do not want to be here. Jim doesn't blame them. He doesn't want to be here either.
Claire's friends Mary and Darci are also in attendance. Darci steps forward at the sight of Morgana, but Mary holds her back. Behind them, Morgana's guards shuffle into position. The girls—no, women for they are no longer children, no one in this room is anymore—step back into the safety of the group's circle.
There is no sight of Strickler, Nomura, or NotEnrique. No surprise. Changeling loyalty, Jim has learned, is never easy to discern. He hopes they are okay, wherever they are.
There are others in the group, humans and trolls, but he knows none of them. It is disheartening. How much has he missed? Too much, he thinks.
Toby's eyes grow as big as saucers. Jim too, is stunned. It is the closest he's seen his friend in ages. He is taller now, his childhood struggle with pudge replaced with thick muscle. Stubble lines his face, hair far shorter than Jim ever remembered it being. In his armor he appears to be the very picture of a knight. Still, his rounded face, flippy hair, and bright eyes remain the same. Time has changed Toby, but he still looks like himself, unlike Jim.
AAARRRGGHH! appears mostly the same, if a bit more tired, and Blinky—Jim's mouth softens. The troll looks centuries older, his hair line receded even more. He is missing a limb and an eye, but that doesn't seem to slow him down. There is a sadness in his gaze now, especially when he catches sight of Jim's appearance. Jim looks away first.
And then he sees her.
"Mom," he says without thinking.
Three years did not change his mother's appearance. She is still as beautiful as before. She is the only underdressed person in the room, wearing the same scrubs as always, though they had clearly seen better days. She squints for a moment before her eyes go wide, tears pulling at the sides. "Jim?"
He's at her side in seconds, gathering her in his arms. Whereas before he easily fit into her arms, now it is the reverse. Her arms tighten around his waist, her head tucked underneath his chin. Jim struggles not to cry. It's mom, and she's here and it's as if the floodgates to his emotions are sprung open.
She looks up at him, adjusting her glasses, then asks, "What has she done to you, sweetheart?"
He glances back at Morgana, who has relocated to her throne, watching the group with an unreadable gaze.
He smells her magic, accustomed to its shifts and turns. She is pleased. For now, at least.
"It's a long story," he replies. "What are you doing here?"
"Toby told me everything after you left." His mom's mouth drags down into a sharp frown. "You think I'd let him come here without me?"
His attention switches over to his old friend, who approaches, arms outstretched. Jim brings him into the hug. It is strange how easily they both fit in his arms. They look so fragile now.
"Good to see you again, Jimbo." Toby says. "Damn you're tall. You would have made a killing in the NBA."
He chuckles and to his surprise, his voice doesn't sound as bad as it normally does to his ears. "What in the world, Tobes. As if I could ever dribble."
"True," he says, then sighs, the humor fading from his face, now serious. "Gunmar announced himself to humanity a few days ago. It's pure chaos out there."
"I heard," Jim nods. "What is the government doing about it?"
"Everything they can, but Jim, he somehow got a portal working to the Darklands. People are spotting Gumm-Gumms all over the world. It's insane."
"What?" This is news to him. Merlin's amulet flashes at the spike in his emotions. "How long do we have then?"
"A couple months, a year if we're lucky." Toby's lips thin. "It's why we need your help. Only the Trollhunter can defeat Gunmar."
A cool breeze tickles Jim's face; Morgana's magic. His facial markings light up in response. Both Toby and his mom jerk back in surprise. Jim ducks his head, hand covering them.
"Jim," she gestures to her side. "Come. If we are to discuss defeating Gunmar I should like to be included. After all, I am the one you called to meet with, yes, TP?"
Toby clenches his teeth, moving forward, but Jim strengthens his hold, shaking his head.
A cold sliver of rage shifts on Jim's face, but he smothers it. As glad as he is to see his friends and family, he knows their lives are on a razor-thin edge. Reluctantly, he releases them, walking to her side.
Angor Rot watches from her right, his face impassive and still. Jim settles to the left of Morgana. Her hand reaches out to lazily stroke his arm. Jim flinches at the touch but doesn't move away. Inwardly, he tells himself that he's doing the right thing. Anything to keep the rest of his friends and family safe. If he can't protect Claire, at least he can protect others from her.
That's what he tells himself.
The room is silent. He can feel the eyes of everyone on him and Morgana. It is not until later that he understands what she truly did. It was a power-move, a way of the witch to convey his allegiance—no, his servitude to her. What comes later solidifies the notion.
"Let us proceed." Morgana begins. "What makes you think I want an alliance with your little group?"
"You wouldn't have allowed us through the doors if you weren't a little interested," Toby says. "Come on, we're not fools, witch."
Jim smiles, though he hides it behind his hand. His friend is so confident now.
"You come into my house and address me as such? TP, I'm disappointed."
Toby's brows knit together. "Don't call me that. Only one person can call me that, and she's gone."
"Oh," she tilts her head to the side, "is she now?"
"Cl-Lady Morgana, our apologies. We meant no—"
She zeros in on Blinky, the purple in her pupils glowing. "Was I talking to you, Blinkous?"
Immediately, the magic in the air thickens. Unperceivable to humans, but all the trolls and Jim notice the shift.
Jim tries to interrupt. "Morgana, they mean no disrespect."
Her eyes flicker towards him, as cold as the bitterest of winters. Then, like spring, her expression warms, her lips pulling upwards. "My Trollhunter, so caring. Always seeing the best in others."
Immediately, the hairs on his neck stand up.
"Come here, down by my side," she says, and he does, because a promise is a promise, right?
She gestures for him to sit in front of her throne, his back facing her. He follows her order. Once settled, her fingers caress his hair. In one fluid movement, she pulls out the twine tie holding back the rest of his hair. It might have been meant to be loving, it might have not, all Jim knows is that the move makes his old friends uncomfortable, if their shuffling feet and pale faces are any indication.
He feels her begin to braid his hair as she talks. "Toby, what is the purpose of your visit?"
"We…we know where Gunmar is residing."
"Do you now?"
"Yes. We figured it out. He's staying in the mountains, not far from Arcadia actually."
"You're certain?"
"Positive. We sent a troop of scouts. Only…only one came back."
"Then what is it you need me for?"
"We need magic to get inside. It's sealed from all sides. If we can be teleported inside—"
"Foolish. That's exactly what he'd expect you to do. And here I thought you were better at avoiding traps."
"What would you suggest then?"
"The only way to defeat Gunmar would be to goad him out. He's far more vulnerable outside."
"But how could we do that?"
"That's the question, isn't it?" She ties the twine around the end of the braid.
Toby frowns, then remarks, "What if we make him think we're attacking him from inside the mountain, then surround our forces around the outside?"
Morgana, now finished with Jim's braid, hums softly. Jim shakes his head, feeling the braid hit his back. It is not the first time she has played with his hair, but it is certainly the first time to have done it with an audience. "An interesting proposal, but how do we know you won't betray us the moment the battle begins?"
"And how do we know you won't do the same?" Toby counters.
It is a second before he realizes what is about to happen. The arrow flies through the air at utmost speed. Jim's eyes follow its trajectory, straight towards Toby. Jim is halfway down the steps when the arrowhead pierces someone's heart.
A second later, the room erupts into chaos. AAARRRGGHH! picks up Toby and puts him behind, the others in their group gathering around in a semicircle. He hears a sharp wail. He recognizes the voice immediately. It's the same one that taunted him all those years ago.
The arrow missed its target. Steve cradles the cooling corpse, his head buried into the other's shoulder.
Jim staggers forward, until he's meters away. He hears the fading heartbeat of the fallen boy, but his lips struggle to form the words.
"No, no, no!" Steve screams, trying to stem the bleeding. "Don't go. I can't lose you too, Eli. Please, please…stay with me. Ms. Lake can heal you and you'll be better soon. You just have to hang in there."
Blood bubbles from the boy's lips. Hand shaking, Eli strokes Steve's cheek with the back of his hand. Steve presses his lips to it. Jim's face pales. He shouldn't be watching this. It is an intimate moment, one that he will replay in his mind for years to come.
He was never friends with either of them, but he knows they're been with Toby and his group for a while now. He sees Toby's face in the corner of his eye, tears of anger and frustration pouring out. His mother is held in place by Blinky, her head buried into his shoulder.
Jim knows Eli is gone before Steve. The scream is broken and harsh, so much so that Jim is up and moving towards the area behind the throne.
He's on the assailant in a heartbeat, pushing Morgana's guards out of the way. It is a changeling, not one of theirs' but dressed in the same outfit as one of her soldiers. Jim rips off the shooter's mask. The changeling beneath is male and light-skinned, with a face full of freckles. But that is not what Jim focuses on. His gazes turns upward to the assassin's scar, the emblem embedded into his forehead.
Two eyes, one open and one closed. It is jagged and crude, but the symbol is clearly recognizable: Gunmar.
Jim picks him up by the neck. Morgana is swiftly by his side, hand on the arm not trying to squeeze the life out of this fucker, this murderer, this—
"Jim, don't! What if he has information?" Toby calls out, running to his side. "We need to interrogate him first!"
"Kill him, my Trollhunter." Morgana says. "He deserves it."
The pent up energy rages within his throat. Jim hears someone growl. It is not him who pulls the trigger, Jim thinks, it is Morgana.
His vision runs red. The changeling struggles, choking as Jim's grip grows ever tighter. Rage consumes him. It is as if he is on the battlefield once more.
"Jimbo, stop it. That's enough!" Toby tries to pull his other arm away. If Jim had still been human, it might have worked.
The assailant chokes, trying to pry Jim's fingers from his neck. It surprises him that the changeling does not shift, but no matter. His fingers curl into the other's trachea, cutting off his air supply. The monster's head begins to turn purple as the lack of oxygen becomes critical. He feels Morgana's soft tap against his back. Like a toothpick, he breaks the changeling's neck. Even over Steve's crying, the sharp snap is heard by all.
He drops the corpse to the floor.
Toby steps away slowly. His eyes are wide.
Their faces. Their horrified faces. He looks down at his hands. Oh god. Why did he do that? Why didn't he listen to Toby?
And his mom. He's never seen her face so ashen, her eyes tearing up. He watches Blinky pull her behind him. He has frightened both of them, shown them the monster he truly is.
The corpse is mangled and broken, its neck turned at an unnatural angle.
He did this. All of this.
He hears Toby whisper, "Jim…why? Why did you do that? We could of, we could of—"
It is all he can handle. He hurries out of the room, out of the area, away from them all.
His stomach curdles. He played right into her hand.
No, he tries to reason. He did what was right. He avenged Eli, didn't he?
So why does this victory taste so vile?
Because he's a monster, he thinks. He's a monster who kills monsters.
The air next to him shimmers. He flinches, trying to move away, but a hand juts out, grasping his own. She emerges fully, her eyes brown and loving. There are tears in her eyes.
"Jim, I'm so sorry. She made me do it. I'm so sorry," Claire says.
Even if it's a lie.
Even if it's a lie.
He accepts it all the same.
He collapses to his knees, arms lifeless. He's only nineteen. Why did everything have to be so hard?
Her lips find his forehead. He leans in, desperate for something to keep his mind off of the horrified faces of his friends. She strokes his long ears, then his horns, and then his face. Each kiss she places feels like fire and numbs the pain in his heart.
"You're a good boy, Jim." she croons.
"Am I?"
"I'm so proud of you."
And that's when the dam breaks. It has been so long since he last cried. It is harsh, and it is ugly, but Morgana's grip on his face never ceases.
She licks up every tear.
And he lets her.
Weeks pass.
It is after the battle which would become known as the Victory at Devil's Pass that the news reaches him.
It is Angor Rot that gives him the note. All it is are coordinates, but he recognizes the place.
Neutral territory is hard to come by. It does not take him long to get there.
Arcadia.
Home.
Most of it is abandoned now, the people evacuated for more fortified areas. He walks through the barren streets, melancholy in his slow gait. Weeds have overtaken the once pristine green lawns. He smells fire but it is too far away for him to see. He passes his old school, the dentist office, the clinic, everywhere he used to visit as a teen.
The meeting place is intentional; the Arcadian canals. The warrior in his mind analyzes the area, taking note of the hidden on-lookers, Troll and human alike. Toby is already there when he arrives, watching the sunset with Darci. Jim smiles at the image. Darci is the first to notice his presence, the smile on her face disappearing, replaced with a cold mask. She nods to Toby and leaves. Two humans replace her, standing a few yards away from him.
Toby's shoulders sag. There are bags under his eyes. Jim moves forward. He notices it is hard for Toby to look him in the eyes. When he gets a certain distance from Toby, the other takes a step back. Jim stops moving. His stomach rolls. In the corner of his eye, Blinky and AAARRRGGHH! stand at the top of the canal, still as stone. Their faces are full of sorrow.
Toby is the one who delivers it.
"You look like shit, Jim." Toby says.
"So do you."
A small brittle smile appears on his friend's face. "Yeah."
"What is it you want to tell me?" Jim asks, arms crossed. He feels exposed out here without his armor.
Toby's face goes white. A chill runs down Jim's spine.
"I'm so sorry," Toby starts. "The fever, the sickness, it spread so quickly. She tried to treat everyone but—"
Jim's stomach drops. No, no, no, no. "Who, Toby?"
Gulping, his friend utters the words he never wanted to hear. "Your mom."
Toby's companions watch on wearily. They are new, Jim notes, probably recruits from another town. There is anger in their eyes, but also pity. Even if he is a monster, he still has a mother—had a mother.
"Mom. She got sick too." He says, voice dead. "When did she die?"
"About a week ago." Toby adds, "We buried her under the willow tree we used to play on when we were younger."
"I see. Thank you for telling me, Toby."
Toby grabs his arm. There is fear in his eyes, but love too. Jim wants to cry; he caused that. "Jimbo, please, come back to us. There's still time. We're building an army against Gunmar. We don't need Morgana to do it. We can win. I know it."
"You know I can't do that." He removes Toby's hands.
"Damn it, Jim!" Toby yells. "Haven't you suffered enough? You need to let her go."
"I can't." Jim says. "Claire needs me. She has to still be in there somewhere. And if she's really gone…Morgana will never let me leave. She's always watching. I can feel her eyes on me, even now. If I came back, she'd kill all of you."
Toby's voice wavers, "Jim…Oh god…I never—"
Toby comes closer, hesitating for a moment before finally taking Jim's hand into his own. Unlike Morgana's hand, which is cool and dainty, Toby's is warm and calloused. It is much smaller than his own, another difference to add to his list.
"I...I believe you." Toby squeezes his hand. "If you still think Claire is in there, then I believe you. We'll do everything we can. We'll find something. I promise."
It is an empty promise. Jim forces a smile.
Inwardly, he is screaming, tearing at the walls of his mind. He should have done something. He left his mom without saying goodbye, without even letting her know why and now—
He was just trying to help Claire. He didn't know that it would turn into...all of this. He didn't know. How could he?
After the meeting, he goes to his mother's gravesite alone. Well, alone as one can be with spies watching his every move. He stays until sunset, watching the fireflies float and dance without a care in the world. It's a good spot for his mother's final resting place. Toby chose well. He wants to tell her grave everything, but finds he cannot bring out the words.
She went out a hero, trying to cure and save everyone she could. It is more than he can say for himself.
He spends the rest of his nineteenth year in a stupor. He spends as much time as he can on the battlefield. Not even Angor Rot can match his ferocity. He is a beast all of his own making.
Dreams are even worse than reality. Sometimes it is former Trollhunters yelling at him, rage in their eyes at the outcome of his ongoing mistakes. They talk of his failures, his selfishness, his foolishness. Kanjigar stays behind, watching in silence as Jim is attacked from all sides. It is what he deserves after all.
Merlin is noticeably absent.
Other times, It is distorted memories of a life he can no longer reclaim. He is back home, sixteen and human. It is one of those rare nights that his mom is there too. Sometimes they are watching a movie or playing a card game or simply cooking together. Every time he throws himself at her, sobbing, apologizing, tucking himself under her chin like the child he used to be. She strokes his hair and murmurs soft reassurances and he sobs all the harder, because look at him? He does not deserve it. How could she stand to look at him? How could she not hate him?
"Oh, Jim." She says, "It's all right, baby. You'll be okay."
He wants to believe her.