Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 18th November 2022
Tuesday
"All right," said Douxie to Blinky, "run me through what you did last time."
"Geomancy!" Blinky thumped a heavy tome down on the table. "We applied geomantic sigils to the campaign signs of Claire's mother. They only activated in the presence of a Gumm-Gumm, and served to ward them off." His fingers made quick work of skipping through the pages of his book, until he at last found what he was looking for and opened the volume wide, displaying his find.
Douxie examined it, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. "Complex," he finally said, fingers tracing the lines of the runes. "And old. This works specifically on Gumm-Gumms? Not on other trolls?"
"It is indeed older than yourself, my friend," Blinky told him. "And, yes, this works specifically on 'trolls of ill intent,' as the venerable Krelnak intended."
"The trick is," Douxie mused, "we want to allow our side to participate in the battle, but at the same time, we don't want to bar our allies from being able to go into the establishments surrounding the town square." Gold eyes glanced up, met Blinky's brown. "How will this work on changelings?" he asked with a gesture at the page.
Blinky's mouth opened, as if to answer, but then he paused. "I... have no idea," he confessed. "It was not a consideration the last time, with so few changelings remaining."
"Good question," Aaarrrgghh told Douxie.
"Because I, for one, would not like to be held responsible for even temporarily barring Nomura from her museum." Douxie's hand went to his chin, thumb stroking as he thought.
"Shish kebab," Aaarrrgghh agreed.
"Indeed," said Blinky, eyes wide at the thought.
"Well." Douxie's hand dropped. "I suppose the only way we'll know, is to test it, yeah? So, walk me through how you applied these sigils to the signs."
"C'mon, man," Steve as much as whined at Jim. "You can't just leave me out in the cold like this! I gotta do something, or I'll look like an utter wimp and loser!" He was practically begging now. "Even- even Pepperjack's getting to do something! I'm desperate."
Looking at Steve, who at one point not so long ago had been trying to shove him into lockers and beat him up, and was now begging him for a job to do in the middle of what was sure to be a very bloody and deadly battle, Jim sighed.
The fact that this conversation was happening in front of those self same lockers made this even weirder.
Well, better this than what he was.
"Steve," he said softly, "do you know what the first duty of a knight is? The first obligation?"
Steve shook his head.
"A knight's first responsibility," Jim said, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder, "is always to the well-being and safety of the people."
Steve nodded, accepting that. But he still didn't quite get it, Jim could see.
"I'm trusting you with this. This might in fact be the most important job we have," said Jim. "I need you to help clear the square as soon as the bridge opens. You need to get everyone to safety, and once they are, stay with them. Keep them calm, keep them safe, and be ready to protect them with your life if anything goes wrong."
Steve's eyes widened, Jim's request, requirement, and command sinking into them. Maybe deeper than Jim knew; Steve had, in the last timeline, been desperate to become a knight. Maybe giving him that again would help him become, the way Jim had.
"Yeah." Steve was nodding. "Yeah, I can do that."
"You told him what?" Douxie felt like he needed to get his ears checked.
Jim shrugged.
"That's... that's not what knights ever were! Ever!" Douxie felt the need to drive home that point. "They were all landed thugs!"
"Up until the definition changed to be 'singer or actor the Queen rather likes'," Archie murmured.
"Yeah, well. We're trying to do better, right?" Jim asked.
Douxie stopped short, mouth open as he blinked.
Because... that was what they were trying to do, wasn't it? To become a better version of what had been. Jim as king, Douxie as his wizard. And if Steve was to become a better knight than his onetime idol Lancelot had been...
Douxie looked at Jim. His brother. His king. Who, before he'd even known him, had taken the mantle of the Trollhunter and made it into something better than it had ever been. Who had made himself into a true knight, one worthy of a fairy tale. And who was now making the rest of them into something equally worthy.
Douxie's mouth closed. He swallowed, feeling the enormity of the sea change Jim was effecting. Even separate from their plans to defeat the Arcane Order, this shift was vast. Terrifying. "You're right," Douxie said softly, reveling in the feeling of transformation. Of potential. Of something new and unprecedented.
"If I can get him through the next year and a half," he remembered telling Barbara, "he's going to change the world. For the better."
Douxie swallowed again, and smiled. "Well done," he complimented his king.
Who ducked his head and smiled softly. Like Douxie's opinion was worth something to him. Douxie marveled at that; he couldn't imagine Arthur ever seeking out Merlin's approval.
Though, presumably, at one time even Arthur had been young and unsure...
He suddenly felt sad for the fallen king. Which was not something Douxie was sure he ever had before. So much potential, gone...
We will hold each other up, he promised himself, so that even if some of us fall, we can still remain strong.
So that Jim can remain strong.
Toby cannot die this time. Nor, Douxie thought, remembering what had allegedly broken Arthur, can Claire.
It had been a long time, many centuries, in fact, since circumstances had forced Vendel away from the way of the knapper, and into the leadership role he had so seldom felt prepared for. He had fancied himself a young firebrand at the time, following his own calling rather than walking the well trod path of leadership that his father's and grandfather's feet had worn before him.
The universe, he now thought dourly, surely held some sort of inevitability in its nature. For how could he ever have become anything other than that which he was destined to become?
Only when half his tribe had been slaughtered, his father and grandfather rubble at his feet and his mentor dying in his arms, had Vendel accepted that then-unwanted role. "Promise me," his dying master had croaked, "that you will touch stone each day."
Across the centuries that separated him from that moment of hard truth, Vendel had kept true to that dying oath. Even if he could not shed the weight of leadership, he could still rebel against it in his own small ways.
He rubbed his fingers now over the miniature he had carved. Killahead Bridge, worked out of obsidian. A stone as sharp as razors, as dark and bitter as bile, and conceived in the heart of a volcano. It had felt an appropriate material for the model.
"And what," he said, raising his eyes to look at Blinkous, "do you plan to do about your brother?"
That troll crossed all four of his arms and paced, his expression thunderous. "I do not know," Blinkous said. "Vile and monstrous traitor that he is, he yet remains my brother. I could no more slay him than I could my own son."
That son was a human, Vendel did not bother to point out. He set the model of the bridge down on the table, gaze catching briefly on the miniature he had carved of James Lake, Junior, son of Barbara. For that figurine, he had let himself choose a white marble, swirled through with impurities of blue and green. "Fraticide," Vendel agreed, "is hardly becoming of a member of our society."
"Yet did Dictatious attempt to murder me in the Darklands?" Blinkous bellowed. "He did! My own brother!"
"He has not yet attempted that this time," Vendel reminded him dourly.
"Nor shall he get the chance!" Blinkous snapped back.
"Will you allow your happy little team of murderous Trollhunters to kill him?" Vendel inquired.
There was a long moment of silence before the reply came. "...No," Blinkous said eventually. "For to allow that, would be as good as murder by proxy."
"Yet your own hands would remain clean of the crime."
"My hands, yes. My spirit, however?" Blinkous shook his head.
"So, then. You will neither kill him nor suffer him to be killed. What is your verdict?" Vendel asked. "Your plan?"
"I could shove him back through the bridge and leave him to rot in the Darklands," Blinkous mused. Then he shook his head. "No. Devoid of Gunmar's protection, that, too, is a death sentence. Merely a more prolonged, uncertain one."
"Imprisonment?" Vendel scoffed. "We are not humans; we have no such facilities."
"No." Blinkous was silent again. At last he heaved a sigh. "I suppose, in the end, there is only one choice remaining. I must, as the humans say, become my brother's keeper, and be ever vigilant against his silvery lies."
Vendel nodded, accepting this. "Then so shall it be."
A knock came at the doorway. Vendel turned to see Draal standing there. "It is time," the former Trollhunter's son said softly.
"Okay. Okay." Toby jogged from foot to foot. Reached one hand over his head, stretching to the right. Reached the other hand, stretching to the left. "I can do this. I can do this."
Jim, Claire, and Krel exchanged worried glances. "If you need me to do this-" Jim offered, coming closer.
"No!" Toby shook his head sharply. "I can do this. I've gotta do this."
"But-"
Toby shook his head again, gentler this time. "Jim, they trust me more than you. From their point of view, I'm the Trollhunter, and you're just an extra."
Jim huffed a laugh. "That's true, I guess," he admitted. "King Jim, yes. King of Trollmarket?" He shook his head. "No way."
Claire laughed. "Trollmarket's a little bit too unruly to have a king," she agreed.
"Yeah, they're not really like the Quagawumps." Toby nodded.
"Still." Her hand landed on his shoulder. "Are you sure you can do this, Toby?"
"No," he confessed. "I mean, I ran through this a couple of times with Chompsky. And I gotta tell you, he's a heck of a speech writer! But now that I'm down here, and it's going to happen?" He rapped at the side of his head. "It's all jumbled up and disappearing. Poof!"
Her grimace was familiar.
"I'd be a lot happier if it was you or Jimbo doing this," Toby confessed. "I mean, you've got all that stage experience and all. Or even Steve! But it's gotta be me, so I've gotta do it."
"You made that movie," Claire pointed out.
"Which we never got to see," Jim added.
"It was never important," Toby said, aware that his voice had a tinge of a whine to it, but unable to stop. "And I was a director and a producer. A behind the scenes guy! Not the onscreen talent."
"Speaking as the onscreen talent," Krel butted in, "You are going to do fine."
"Writing speeches is a while lot easier when you're not the one having to say them!" Toby whined.
Krel was unsympathetic. "Ha. Talk to my sister." He paused. "On the second thought, don't. She has spent the whole day mooning over sitting in a tree with the Palchuk last night and K-I-S-S-ing." His expression made it clear what he thought of that.
"Don't knock it until you've tried it," Toby rebutted.
"I will thank you and the rest of your species to keep your gross slimy tongues to yourselves."
Douxie and Aaarrrgghh pulled similar expressions of disgust.
Toby's eyes went wide. "Wait, Steve slipped her the tongue?"
"And she did not cut off his face with her serrator for it, which I would have," Krel grumbled.
"Well, yeah, duh, you're not the one dating him," Toby rebutted. "Aja actually likes Steve."
"There is no accounting for taste." Krel sulked for a minute. "I do actually like him," he admitted after that minute. "I just do not like him-like him, as your people say."
"Yeah, Aja's kind of an outlier in actually wanting to go out with Steve," Jim agreed. "Lucky for her and for Steve, I guess."
"Trollhunter."
Toby turned to see Vendel walking toward him, leaning on his staff, flanked by Blinky and Draal. "Are you certain you wish to do this?" the elder asked once he reached their group.
"Want to? No." Toby made a face. "Need to?" He took a deep breath. Let it out. Nodded. "I have to."
"Very well, then. Draal, accompany me." Vendel swept past them, toward the muted roar coming from the Hero's Forge.
Draal rested a hand on Toby's shoulder. "You've got this," he said softly, before following Vendel.
"Hyeah, no," Toby muttered. He looked up at Douxie. "Got any words of wisdom, Mister-I-acted-with-Shakespeare?"
Douxie looked thoughtful. "I believe the traditional advice is to picture everyone naked, or in their underwear."
"Trolls don't wear underwear," Jim and Claire said as one.
Douxie smirked. "Let's not pursue that line of thought. My best advice," he said, turning back to Toby and resting a hand on the same shoulder that Draal had, "is to remember that you," he poked Toby in the center of the chest, "are the Trollhunter. All those trolls, but only one you."
"And being outnumbered is supposed to give me the upper hand?"
Douxie shook his head. "Not what I meant. They need you a good deal more than you need them."
That... did kind of put a different complexion on things, Toby thought. A few of his nervous butterflies decided to flutter off. "Okay."
Douxie backed away. Jim stepped closer, holding up his forearm for a vambrace-to-vambrace tap. "Got your back, Trollhunter." Jim grinned.
"Got your back," Toby retorted. "Trollhunter."
He turned, and walked toward the Forge. And everyone else followed him.
The noise pouring out of the Forge was almost deafening. The stands, Jim saw, were absolutely packed. He doubted there was a single citizen in Trollmarket who wasn't here. Even most of the gnomes seemed to be present.
Next to him, Claire's lips formed a silent whistle. "Whoa. Tough crowd."
"Let's hope not."
In the middle of the arena, Vendel stood, Draal behind him and to the side, like he was a bodyguard. As soon as Toby stood in the door to the Forge, Vendel thumped the butt of his staff to the ground three times.
Slowly, the noise of the crowd tapered off.
"Our Trollhunter," Vendel said, casting a look at Toby, "wishes to speak with all of Trollmarket."
A wave of mutters. Not openly hostile, if Jim's ear was any judge. More... curious.
He felt his jaw set. They'd see how long the curiosity-to-hostility ratio lasted.
Jim had perfect confidence in Toby.
He also had perfect confidence in Trollmarket. The trolls were sometimes as inflexible and immovable as the stone from which they were formed.
Toby walked to the center of the Forge, Vendel stepping away and going to find his own seat. Draal followed him with a brief squeeze of Toby's shoulder.
Toby coughed into his fist and looked up at his audience.
Jim could see the moment every word Toby had prepared finished falling out of his head.
Jim winced.
"So. Um. Okay." Toby drew a deep breath and looked to Jim. Jim could see the panic in his eyes.
But he also couldn't /do/ anything. Toby was right: he needed to be the one making this speech.
Jim gave Toby a double thumbs up and hoped it would help.
Toby swallowed and looked up at the seats.
"This Saturday," Toby said. "This Saturday, we're opening the door to the Darklands."
A wave of noise swallowed his next words. And rose, only getting louder and angrier, drowning out whatever Toby was trying to shout to them-
Douxie pushed past Jim, stalked out onto the floor of the Forge, his spell bracelet glowing bright, magic sparking at his fingertips. His fingers hovered over one spell on his bracelet before his head jerked, his fingers flying to another spell instead. He ripped that one off the bracelet and cast it, bright blue, at the entirety of Trollmarket.
Their noise cut off like it had been sliced by a knife.
"He gets to say his piece," the wizard said, glaring daggers at all of Trollmarket, "and then you can say yours. Or I'll take all your voices, permanently."
"Can he do that?" Krel asked Claire.
"I have no idea," she murmured back, eyes wide.
Douxie waited until the crowd had settled down, then nodded to Toby, made an arcane sigil in the air, and cast it.
Someone's cough broke the silence.
Jim watched, impressed despite himself, as Douxie stalked over to the wall near Vendel and threw himself against it, arms crossed, expression fuming.
"So." Toby coughed into his fist. "Like I was saying, we're letting Gunmar out and taking him down this Saturday night."
Jim's attention was torn between Toby and Douxie now. His eyes narrowed as he saw the barest hint of a tremble in Douxie's hands before Archie, running across the distance between himself and his wizard, leapt up into Douxie's arms, giving him something to focus on.
Later, Jim promised himself, turning his attention back to Toby.
"-and we could really use your help, if any of you want to come fight Gumm-Gumms and kick their butts," Toby finished.
Claire winced. "Not the best speech."
Krel nodded. "Pretty sure that is not what Chompsky told him to say."
"Alas," Blinky agreed. "Oration does not seem to be one of Tobias' stronger skills."
Jim snorted. "Like it's anybody's?"
Because now that Toby had finished his say, Trollmarket was getting theirs. All in all, it was about as negative as Jim had expected. Bagdwella's shrieking cry of "Madness!" rose above the others'.
To hell with letting Toby do this alone. There was no way Jim was letting his best friend fall and die on the sword of public opinion.
It wasn't Trollhunter. It was Trollhunters.
He stormed out onto the floor.
"Tobes," Jim said, reaching his best friend. "You okay?"
Toby's expression was crumbling more and more with every piece of abuse hurled at him, he saw. "I- I didn't think it would be this bad, Jimbo."
Jim felt his mouth set into a line. "Got your back, Trollhunter," he promised, and turned to face their judge and jury.
"SHUT UP!" he yelled, the gem at his brow glowing green, his voice casting wide across the entire audience shouting for his and Toby's heads.
Miracle of miracles, Trollmarket actually listened.
"We didn't have to tell you," Jim told them, letting his anger flow through him. "We could have just gone and done it and fought and killed Gunmar and his Gumm-Gumms without telling you jack. But we wanted you to know. Because we're your Trollhunters, and you deserve a chance to fight for yourselves, if you want to."
"Why would we ever want to fight?" a voice came. Jim thought it was probably Rot's, though he couldn't see him.
"Because it's your right," Jim explained. "You all fought with Deya, centuries ago, to defend yourselves. We're giving you that chance again now. You don't /have/ to... but this is going to be right in front of all the humans upstairs. And the more trolls they see fighting off the bad guys, the more likely they are to see that you're not the bad guys."
"Gunmar killed like half of you in that other timeline," Toby piped up. "Gunmar and Usurna and Morgana. He may be trapped in the Darklands, but he's had spies and minions working for him for centuries. They've got Killahead rebuilt. All they need is this amulet." He tapped the glowing circle on his chest. "And whenever they get it, you're not gonna know until it's too late. So we're doing this now, on our time. Not on his. Whenever that might be."
Murmurs of "impures" went across the trolls in waves. Jim's team began walking to join him and Toby. Except for Douxie, but if he was going through what Jim thought he was, he definitely had an excuse.
Jim crossed his arms. "For another thing, they're not impures. That's racist bushigal. They're changelings."
"What's the difference?" someone called.
"They're your babies," Claire said, glaring. "They're our babies. Gunmar stole them, and you want to say it's their fault?"
"They're evil!" That was Bagdwella.
"They're people," Blinky snapped back. "Every time they've approached us, we've rejected them. Whose side would you expect them to take? That of the people who wish them dead, or that of the fell lord who gives them lies and false hope?"
Aaarrrgghh nodded. "Allies," he rumbled.
"We have recruited some," Krel added. "Those who will not fight against Gunmar, or at least stand neutral, have been sent away. Their organization is marginally in our control."
Trollmarket fell into stunned silence. Even Vendel, who knew at least some of what Team Trollhunters had been up to, looked surprised.
"If you don't want to fight," Jim reprised, "you don't have to. But we're telling you, so that you at least know there's a choice to be made. We're going to take down Gunmar and end his threat permanently. But we're not going to lie and do it behind your backs. You deserve better than that."
"I suck at making speeches."
Draal patted Toby's shoulder, large stone hand nearly enveloping it. "Deya herself was never so confident at them either. The amulet has seldom chosen those with a politician's mithrilium tongue."
Jim nodded. "Yeah. Deya was... not great at public speaking."
Draal's head snapped around, gaze locking onto Jim. "You knew Deya...?"
Jim winced. "Sort of?" he asked. "There's time travel stuff that's going to go on. Douxie says the time continuum is 'in play,' whatever that means." He made air quotes around the words.
Draal rolled his eyes. "Wonderful."
"Hey." Claire approached Douxie where he still leaned against the wall, even though almost all of Trollmarket had filed out and gone back to their own lives. "You okay?"
The master-wizard-to-be, still holding his familiar, looked up at her and gave her a wan smile. "Not really."
She leaned against the wall next to him. "Want to talk about it?"
Douxie was silent for a minute. He wouldn't meet her eyes. "Remember Merlin's magical muzzles?" he finally asked.
Claire rolled her eyes. "Do I ever."
His voice was very soft as he said, "I just almost did that to all of Trollmarket."
"Oh, Douxie."
"Yeah." He looked back down, at Archie's black fur. "A good reminder to me, to not accidentally become that which I hate."
"You don't hate Merlin," she pointed out.
"I don't," he agreed softly. "But I can hate his casual cruelty while still not hating him."
Claire pursed her lips, wanting to make an argument about the two things being the one and the same. But she didn't. Merlin was a sore enough subject without her tossing gasoline on the fire. "You did good, though. You just needed to shock everyone into letting Toby talk, and you did."
One side of his mouth curved up. "Jim's the one who worked the real magic."
She turned and looked back at her boyfriend, who was talking with Krel. "Was that... part of his divine kingship?"
Douxie's breath left him in a rush. "Very much so."
"Well," Claire said thoughtfully, "so much for him not being the king of Trollmarket."
Author's Notes: Jim telling Trollmarket that Team Trollhunters didn't have to tell them what they were doing was inspired by Diane Duane's book Deep Wizardry; Toby declaring that it was their time was likewise inspired by the movie The Goonies.