"Move your left leg back… Yes, better."
It was a sunny day, but that didn't stop Angor and Dictatious from getting back into the swing of training. Nancy had gotten quite a large canopy set up in the backyard as a surprise for them, so they just had to be careful to stay under it. Which wasn't too difficult today, as they'd spent most of their time so far just recapping the basics. Best to refresh Dictatious's memory since it's been so long.
That being said, he's been doing quite well in remembering past lessons to a T. If Angor Rot had any doubts about how much Dictatious took his advice to heart before, it was hard to keep them now. Once Dictatious looked stable in an open stance, Angor readied himself to attack.
"Are you ready?"
"How could I not be when you ask in advance?" Dictatious replied half-jokingly.
That comment was met with being thrown to the ground in a matter of seconds. Though winded for a moment, the smaller troll was unharmed, of course.
"'Ready', hmm?"
"Perhaps not as ready as I thought!" Dictatious admitted, laughing. "Hard to be truly prepared with you around, hm?"
The faintest of frowns crossed Angor Rot's face, but he said nothing as he helped Dictatious back up to repeat the exercise.
All day, the Conundrum's ears were perked attentively, his eyes that had been so dull with understimulation lately were now filled with interest and motivation as they tried to follow Angor… and strangest of all, Dictatious had been so… cheerful since they started this morning. Even laughing and joking with him at times… On the one hand, it was nice to see him in a rare good mood. But on the other, that twinge of guilt he'd felt upon realizing how badly he'd affected Dictatious before was driven even deeper into Angor when he saw him like this.
He had obviously been missing this more than Angor ever realized.
"Angor? Are you still there?"
Angor Rot snapped back to focus when the confused Conundrum spoke. Dictatious was squinting hard in his general direction, trying to figure out if any of the mess of blurs his limited vision saw was Angor.
"You're falling back on your eyes again." Angor pointed out.
"I couldn't hear you anymore." Dictatious justified himself. "Were you even moving?"
"You tell me."
Those perked ears twitched a few times as Angor started pacing through the grass again. "Well sure, now you are…"
As Angor Rot circled the small troll, he saw a flicker of fire starting to form in one of Dictatious's hands.
"Ah ah ah. No magic today." Angor reminded him, much to the Conundrum's disappointment. He made an exaggerated huffing noise, but let the fire dissipate.
"It's so much more useful in these things."
"You need to better know the basics of fighting first." Angor Rot insisted. "Magic is powerful, but you can't rely on it alone. It takes a combination of physical skill and magical skill to make it truly effective."
Dictatious could respect that logic, but it wouldn't make him prefer the physical combat any more. That being said, he's learned to roll with the punches by now. "Well, stop dillydallying and come at me, then!" He challenged with open arms.
Angor knew well how much Dictatious hated the waiting game. Allowing him this upper hand, he shot forward at the Conundrum's demand.
Ready for him this time, Dictatious didn't get knocked over quite so easily. He'd managed to plant his feet well enough that he only got pushed back, and the pair grappled for a stretch of seconds that felt like minutes. Both of Dictatious's arms worked well to block the assassin's strikes. But, surprising to no one, Angor emerged victorious, using the force of Dictatious's next attempted parry to bowl him over.
"One of these days I'll get you back!" Dictatious snickered, dusting himself off. "Might be centuries from now, but one day. "
At that, the faintest of smiles replaced Angor's earlier troubled look. "I'll be waiting."
It was satisfying to know Dictatious was willing to accept that he can improve, even if in a joking way. With how negative he'd been about that sort of thing earlier on, it was a good step forwards.
Their next order of business would be brushing up on how to get out of pinned positions. This was practice that Dictatious has shown particular reluctance to in the past, but Angor chalked that up to it being on the more difficult side of things. Even still, it seemed not to affect his good mood today.
They had started with a few slower, practice-escapes to get Dictatious refamiliarized with the process. He had the advantage of an extra set of arms to work with, but now it was a matter of putting up a real fight.
This is where the nerves started to kick in, Dictatious fidgeting just a little bit more than usual before their first round.
"Are you ready?" Angor Rot asked for good measure.
The next laugh that came out of Dictatious was a semi-nervous one, but he didn't object. "Ready as I'll ever be?"
Within seconds, Angor Rot was on top of him again. Dictatious tried what he could to apply the techniques they'd just covered, but to no avail. His teacher moved too quickly. It was a fight that Angor yet again won with grappling Dictatious down against the ground, although it was a struggle of its own to keep him in place.
"Bah! Curses. " Dictatious huffed, aimlessly thrashing about in what little ways he could. "You're insufferable, I'll have you know!"
That faint grin returned to Angor's face as he (barely) managed to restrict Dictatious's movement. "Not a very dignified way to accept defeat." He rumbled in response.
"Ahh, yes, because I'm famous for my outstanding dignit–"
Dictatious wasn't entirely sure what had even set him off. One second, he was completely fine. Perfectly comfortable in knowing he was safe. The next, he felt like he was about to die. Like it was someone else's hands on him all of a sudden, someone with malicious claws that seared his skin at the touch.
Terror shot through him with all the strength and speed of a lightning strike. "Stop, stop–! " Dictatious frantically started to beg, his struggling against Angor's grip becoming genuine.
At the sudden panic that'd overtaken Dictatious, Angor Rot immediately got off of him, putting space between the two of them for good measure. "Are you okay?"
He certainly didn't look okay. He'd shrunk away from Angor the second that he was let go, basically scrambling to pull his shaking body up off the ground, at least into a sitting position instead of being laid out like he was. Despite all the physical signs, Dictatious still didn't admit to anything being wrong.
"I'm f-fine, I'm fine, just-" Mentally cursing himself, Dictatious took a deep breath to try and ease his shakiness. His hands had gripped his arms tightly in his panic, but he slowly loosened his grip as he exhaled. "... That was just… a little too much for me, I suppose…" He muttered in shameful admittance.
The frown that'd been visiting Angor's face swiftly returned. He took a seat in the grass next to the other troll, though not too close, and not speaking at first.
Dictatious said nothing either. He was really starting to hate how quickly his own overreactions could ruin a completely normal time. There wasn't even anything wrong, panicking over completely imagined threats like an inconsolable whelp… First day back in training, and he's already ruined it somehow.
Eventually, Angor Rot was the one to break the silence when he asked, "Do you still think I'll hurt you?"
"No, no, it's not- You're not-' A wince cut across Dictatious's face when he tried to explain himself, followed by a sigh as he put his head in one hand. He wasn't sure how many times they'd have to have this conversation, but he knew it was his own fault that it kept coming up. "... This is a problem with me, not with you. Alright...?"
He got a small hum out of Angor for that, one of understanding. There was more silence, then the larger troll attempted the question, "Do you… want to talk about it?"
The mild awkwardness with how that was asked was quite telling. The assassin knew full well that this sort of thing wasn't his place, and yet he always made the offer regardless. Dictatious wasn't sure if he found it touching or annoying.
"No, Angor." Dictatious softly replied, shaking the head he'd been hiding in his hands.
After another long moment spent staring at the defeated Conundrum, Angor started to reach a hand out to Dictatious without thinking, as if to touch the smaller troll. But, quick to realize what he was doing, he pulled his hand back before Dictatious noticed.
"... Perhaps we should... go inside for now...?" Angor Rot offered instead, uncertain of how to help. "We can continue this another time."
That offer was one Dictatious was willing to take him up on. There was at least solace in knowing this was going to be a consistent thing again, anyways. They didn't have to cover everything today.
The Conundrum feebly nodded, still embarrassed at his own behaviour, and allowed Angor to lead him back inside.
Perhaps it was his imagination, but Angor seemed to hover around him more than usual the remainder of the day, too…
.
.
Large golems followed close behind Jim, Toby, and Claire as they made their way through town. It was by Claire's insistence that they go out for a stroll today to test these things out. They walked outside, got some ice cream, and were indeed approached by the media, asking all sorts of invasive drivel.
Angor's gifts to them were immediately effective. Most of the cameramen nearby already knew of the disastrous effects these creatures wrought, so when the kids each dropped a totem into the ground instead of speaking, the media crew had vanished before the golems of concrete even fully formed.
"They'll give up eventually." Toby muttered.
"Never soon enough ." Jim lamented. "I hate that mom can't even feel like she can open the blinds without worrying about these creeps trying to spy…"
"They've been keeping more of a distance, at least…?" Claire said, trying to find whatever small wins they could in the situation.
They fell quiet again, though not for long at all.
"... Did you guys notice anything… weird about what they were saying the other day?"
"Weird, like, how?" Claire asked through bites of her ice cream sandwich.
"Weird, like… knowing things they shouldn't… " Jim said, a contemplative frown on his face as he rubbed his chin. "Like, didn't they ask about you getting, um… you know… possessed…?" He asked tentatively, looking at both Claire and Toby for any sort of confirmation. "Or did I imagine that?"
"Not gonna lie, I was toootally tuning them out." Toby admitted with an unknowing shrug.
"Yeah. They asked about it." Claire confirmed, her stare pointing daggers into the sidewalk now.
The last thing anybody needed right now was obnoxious reporters prying into their traumas. A surge of anger rushed through Jim on Claire's behalf, part of him wanting to track down that nosy bastard and not-so-kindly finding out where he got that information from… but it's not like he got a good look at any of their faces.
The next best thing that they could do was make sure their whole team was being vigilant. It was hard to imagine that anybody on their own end would let slip such sensitive topics, but who could really say for sure with a stolen Glamour in the mix?
They'd have to make sure everyone was still using mask-checking precautions, too.
.
As soon as they got to Jim's house, the first thing they did was voice these concerns. Strickler and Barbara couldn't be the problem, as Barbara was too busy to discuss these things with anybody but Strickler or Jim in the first place, and Strickler was one of the most careful people Jim knew when it came to this kind of thing…
Was there even a leak, or was Morgana somehow messing with them again? As per usual, it was just impossible for anybody to know for sure. When they made their final stop at Toby's house, they managed to catch Angor and Dictatious to ask before they went out for the day, but they too had been quite careful in who they spoke to about these things. (More so Angor Rot than Dictatious, as he could see the visual cue the group decided on how to tell each other weren't wearing masks, but Angor was the only person Dictatious ever talked to about these things, so he wasn't likely the problem, either).
"I guess that just leaves Blinky and Aaarrrgghh we should ask…" Toby mused, rubbing the back of his neck. The likelihood of them being the problem was also incredibly low, since they interacted the most with each other, or with Jim, Toby, and Claire. All their groups just seemed too tight-knit to have any chance of slipping up somewhere. "You said Strickler would call Nomura about it, right Jimbo?"
"I think they're meeting in person. Don't want to risk anybody hearing in phone conversations or anything like that…" replied Jim, "If it's not any of us, we could be getting spied on some other way."
"Have you talked to NotEnrique?" Dictatious suggested, eyebrow raised. "He's always going around filming everybody…"
"I'm subbed to the guy, he doesn't post anything incriminating like tha–" Toby paused right in the middle of that thought, squinted, then corrected himself. "Okay, like, nothing incriminating about us on his channel, anyway."
"I'll still ask him to be more careful…" Claire piped up. "Better safe than sorry."
Sensing the conversation was wrapping up, Angor and Dictatious were about ready to head out. "Well, if that's all…"
"Hey, you guys are getting back into the whole 'training' thing, right?" Claire asked, following with a suggestion before she'd forget to mention it, "Why don't you guys start using the Forge to train now that it's cleaned up? It's like the perfect spot for that kind of thing."
"That would be inappropriate." Angor shot that idea down immediately.
"Uh… why?"
"The Hero's Forge is a resting place for Trollhunters." He pointed out, glancing her way out of the corner of his eye. "I don't think my past victims would be very happy to see me there again."
Oh… right. The Void. 'Coward's grave', as he had once called it. She didn't consider that…
.
.
"Do you find it strange?"
"Do I find what strange?"
The following day that greeted them was quite a cloudy one, so Dictatious and Angor had decided to make a walk of it. Apparently, the smaller troll's mind had still been lying in the concerns of yesterday.
"The way the Pale Lady's activity keeps changing?" Dictatious asked him. At this point, the curiosity regarding her strange behaviour was getting really difficult to keep in check even for him. "Is She usually this sporadic?"
"Unpredictability is a strength She knows how to utilize." Angor rumbled, knowing he must've had this conversation somewhere along the line already, "As well as biding Her time… She's not one to rush Her plans."
She's spent centuries awake locked in a Heartstone before, making plans from there. For all they know, She could be waiting for the current Trollhunters to die of old age before She even tries to break free of the Shadow Realm.
If anything, they might have to force Her out of there from this realm somehow if they want a crack at Her sooner than later.
Angor wondered if the Trollhunters had double-checked their information with the Janus Order yet as they made their way outside. They didn't get very far when they were stopped by NotEnrique.
"Say cheese, Spooktacular!"
"What?"
"Close enough!" A snap and a flash came from NotEnrique's phone, capturing Angor's confused look perfectly. "Perfect. Gotta give people on the 'gram their troll fix, ha."
None of what the Changeling just said had relieved Angor's confusion, but NotEnrique was gone just as quickly as he'd shown up. He looked at Dictatious in hopes for a clearer explanation. "'The 'gram'?"
"Another one of those silly websites, I believe." Dictatious replied, waving it off. "Sharing pictures or something."
"Oh…" As was often when finding about these little Internet things, Angor Rot was still fairly confused. "Why does he want to use me for that...?"
"From what I've heard, he gets a good following on a lot of those sites. He's probably just using you for more content to look at, given the, uh…" Dictatious glanced up and to the side in thought, humming awkwardly, then saying, "Well, some humans are, erm, more… interested in pictures of us than others, you could say…"
"So that's why he keeps doing that?" 'That' being the occasional picture or video NotEnrique would take of him every now and then. "How… odd."
"What, exploiting you for personal benefit?" Chuckling, Dictatious idly commented, "That's hardly what anyone would call 'odd' coming from an Impure ."
"What?" Caught off guard by that uncalled-for comment, especially with how casually it had rolled off the Conundrum's tongue, Angor couldn't hide the surprise in him as he stopped in his tracks, staring incredulously at Dictatious. "Why would you say that?"
Also now confused, Dictatious's head tilted to the side. "What do you mean?"
"Species has nothing to do with anything, here." Angor Rot growled, irritation quickly tainting his voice. "You have no right to speak about him that way."
"Wait, wait, wait…" Dictatious waved a hand in front of his face, his brows furrowing in bewilderment at the weird turn this conversation took, "Why does this matter all of a sudden? He's just a Changeling, it's not like they're respectable in the first place- "
"They're not lesser beings, Dictatious!" Angor snapped, shutting him up instantly, "How can you not understand that by now?!"
At the anger being directed his way, Dictatious immediately flinched back, nerves prickling with discomfort as his body instinctively shifted to high alert. "Where is this coming from…?!" He squeaked, "After what Strickler did to you-"
"What Strickler did to me was his mistake alone! " His voice rose to a snarl. "Those situations aren't even comparable!"
When Dictatious flinched again, basically cowering in Angor Rot's angered presence at this point, the larger troll growled in irritation both at Dictatious and himself. He took a step back, making sure to lower his voice when he spoke next. "What is it that you're trying to say, Dictatious? That because one Changeling hurt me, I should hate all of them?"
"That's not what I meant …" Dictatious tried to explain, "I'm just saying, you of all people should know that it's- it's expected for their kind to be… you know… disreputable?"
"That's the same thing. " Angor countered. What NotEnrique was doing wasn't even harmful, so Angor was really struggling to see why it elicited such a harsh response. At the same time, NotEnrique was obviously just being used as an easy outlet for a deeper-rooted issue. "You're judging them all the same. They're individuals, you know."
"Obviously yes, but they were still made to be that way." Dictatious persisted, though his next choice of words was very poorly chosen, "They're lesser to trolls by design. It's just a fact of life-"
"It absolutely is not. " Angor cut him off. "The circumstances of their creation is irrelevant . They're still capable of free thought, and their lives are just as valuable as ours." If not more in his own case, Angor could admit to himself.
"Irreleva-?!" Sighing in frustration, Dictatious rubbed his temples, trying to make sense of this nonsense. "Of course it's bloody relevant, they wouldn't even exist if not for the sole purpose of being underhanded spies to service Gunma- the Gumm-Gumms …" He deflected, "... and the Pale Lady! Anything outside of that is what's irrelevant!"
"You say that as if they had any control over the roles they were forced into!" Angor snapped at him, beyond irritated at how that fact seemed so lost on him. "They were stripped of their free will as whelps! They never had a choice! "
That wording got the gears turning in Dictatious's head. Angor knew what it was like to be forced into servitude… Maybe his own sensitivity about that sort of thing was causing him to blow this out of proportion…? His anger must be misplaced, but…
Another exasperated sigh left Dictatious's chest as his perplextion grew. The quick risk assessment he thought over yielded likely unfavourable results if he were to point out the 'misplaced anger' side of things, and it didn't help that the rising tension caused him to subconsciously pull away from the larger troll. With furrowed brows, he frowned at Angor. "Why do you care so much about this all of a sudden, anyway? This was never a problem before ."
"I didn't know you thought so little of Changelings before." Angor said, eye narrowing slightly. "You spoke as though you knew their value when we first met."
"Oh– Well, from a political standpoint, yes. They're supposed to have value there." With a short, uncomfortable chuckle, Dictatious couldn't stop the words that kept blurting out, "That's like saying I should hold a mug in the same regard as a troll for doing the bare minimum function of keeping tea warm. Impures are jus–"
"Stop calling them that!"
That dangerous spike of his voice set off those deafening alarm bells in Dictatious's head, and the Conundrum flinched away yet again, immediately conceding the argument to preserve his own safety. "Okay, okay–" He yelped, quick to backtrack amid the larger troll's rage, "I'm sorry…! "
For yet another time, Angor realized his mistake too late.
Stifling another growl, Angor Rot stepped back, drawing in a slow breath, and started incessantly reminding himself not to shout at him like that.
"I don't want to scare you into agreeing with me," He sighed in frustration, mostly with himself for that outburst. "I want you to actually understand why this is wrong ."
But that wasn't going to happen, the way things were currently going. Angor was getting too riled up, and Dictatious couldn't just change at the drop of a hat. That itself was apparent in how they were only talking in circles this whole time.
They needed time to cool off, Angor Rot especially, so he wouldn't end up saying something he'd regret.
"I can't be around you right now." Knowing how badly Dictatious had reacted to that sort of comment in the past, seeing that vaguely familiar look of concern touch Dictatious's face, Angor was sure to clarify, "I'm not going to hurt you. I just need some space from this…"
Dictatious started to speak, though he was stumbling over his words so badly that he couldn't get anything meaningful out before Angor stopped him.
"I'm not going to hurt you over our disagreements. You know that." He tried to reassure him, recognizing Dictatious's shaken attempts at damage control. Making a conscious effort to remove any annoyance in his voice, he said more softly, "We can talk later, alright?"
Softness wasn't a tool Angor used often, and it still sounded all but unnatural coming from him. It was painfully obvious what he was trying to do, and Dictatious couldn't even be angry at the patronization of it all because he couldn't control his own damned fears enough to calm himself down without that reassurance. It was just so aggravating how well Angor knew that was exactly the case.
"Alright…" Dictatious managed to reply, though through teeth gritted from a mixed bag of emotions.
Luckily they hadn't walked far, and Dictatious was easily able to find his own way back to the door. Where Angor would go to cool off, he had no idea.
Just when he thought things between them were improving, too.
This was as good a time as any to remind himself just how volatile any 'comfortable' situation can be. At this point, he could barely be surprised by it.
Now he'd just have to lie in wait of what 'talk later' would entail…
