"Yeah, everything's been ok," Jim switched his phone to his other ear and stepped over the exposed root that extended over his path. "We've got the forge pretty much up and running, still need to tweak a few things, but yeah. Uh, work on the gyre station's… well, going."

"No progress yet?" Barbara asked. Her tone was pleasantly calm, but Jim knew her well enough to pick up on it's hopeful edge.

He heard a pan clang onto the stove top from her end of the line and wondered, with her extremely hectic schedule, which meal of the day this was for her.

"No, not yet," Jim sighed, hating that he couldn't provide her with a better status update. "We've worked on a few prototypes, most of which... exploded. A little bit."

There just weren't many trolls left in Trollmarket with the knowledge to build these things from the bottom up, after all.

"Oh, just a little, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," Jim grinned, stopped below a particularly large tree and gazed upward. "Wasn't even a big one. Very underwhelming. I'd give it a 3 out of 10, but it'd be a very generous 3."

"You should be more supportive of your explosions, honey." Barbara countered.

"I am! I gave it a very generous 3, mother."

Jim launched himself effortlessly into the tree and settled into a crouch on one of the higher branches, one thick enough to support his weight and to give him a pleasant view over the forest.

"We've got the station built and the tunnels cleared and everything, it's the actual gyre part that we're stuck on. Blinky thinks we can maybe figure out how to salvage the one we left behind in Arcadia, but that's weeks worth of traveling if we send a couple of the faster trolls. And several more weeks back if they can't fix it there and have to transport it but, eh," he shrugged dismissively and leaned back against the tree. The wind picked up, tousling his hair and rattling the leaves around him. "We'll work it out somehow."

"It would be nice to be able to pop on over before the baby comes," Barbara commented wistfully. "Or whenever, honestly."

She dropped something into her pan and Jim heard sizzling.

"Yeah, I know. I'd love to be able to see everyone more than a handful of times a year," Jim agreed. "Maybe soon, though."

"I miss you, kiddo," his mother said and Jim's heart clenched with longing. "Everyone does. Even Walt, in his own way."

Jim swallowed. "I miss you too, Mom."

He inhaled deeply, drinking in the smoky flavors of the forest at an attempt to clear the lump forming in his throat. The sliver of moon beamed down from above, peaking through the dark clouds overhead.

His thoughts drifted to Claire, of the nights they would come out here when they felt they needed to get away from it all and, just as they had for the past few weeks, those idle thoughts were accompanied by a tidal wave of anxiety.

"How's Claire been doing?" Barbara asked, right on cue, as if she could read his mind, both through the phone and thousands of miles away.

"She's been ok," he allowed and started pacing along the branch. "Still puking her guts out most nights. But during the day she's usually fine, so," he shrugged nonchalantly, not that she could see it.

"Any weird cravings yet?"

"Not really, we're having a hard enough time trying to find things she can even keep down. Although," he bit back a laugh, "she told me that she's caught herself checking out our silverware a few times and wondering what it tastes like."

"Uh oh. I don't think that's a craving she can satisfy."

Jim chuckled. "Maybe if she's cool with losing a few teeth."

Barbara made a sound on the other line as if she were about to speak, but was cut off immediately by the screeching of a fire alarm. The shrill cry was loud, enough so that Jim had to pull the phone away, his ears flattening against his head.

"Oh- shoot-" Jim snorted, amused she was still in the habit of censoring herself in front of her adult son, "One second, honey."

Jim set his phone against his shoulder and stared out over the rippling treetops.

He flicked his tongue against one of his tusks and wondered if his child would present the same trollish trait- or any trollish traits, for that matter. How hereditary was his troll half? Surely it was to some extent if Claire was having fork cravings of all things.

Of course, that could have been a joke on her part that he was over thinking.

Really, she should him know better by now.

"-Jim? You still there?"

"Yeah," he responded, snapping out of his thoughts, "Yeah, I'm here. Just distracted. Did you burn the house down?"

"Not this time. But the night's still young."

"What's Waltolomew up to?" Jim asked with a smirk.

Barbara clucked her tongue, disapproving of his teasing tone. "You know he doesn't like you calling him that."

"Uh huh. Waltolomew's doing ok?"

Barbara sighed. "Yes, he's doing just fine."

"And he let you back into the kitchen, I see."

"He's sleeping right now, actually," Barbara admitted. "At least he was, if the alarm woke him up."

Jim gave a faux scandalized gasp. "Mother!"

"Hey, it's my kitchen," she countered defensively. "If anyone's banning anyone, it should be me… If I wanted to starve, anyway," she added more quietly.

"Alright so," he heard her clap her hands together on the other end. "Trollmarket's doing ok?"

"Right."

"Claire is also doing ok and wanting to eat silverware."

Jim chuckled. "Check and check."

"How are you doing?"

"Me?" Jim chewed his lip thoughtfully. "I guess I'm ok too?"

"You guess?"

"Yeah, for the most part. I've mostly just been doing a lot of working on the forge and the gyre- but mostly the forge. I can't really help with the technical stuff so it's been a lot of lifting and moving. Oh. And breaking up fights because a bunch of battle-hungry trolls haven't had their training grounds for a few years. But you know how that is," he added with a playful lilt. "It's all just been… weirdly normal. Or, our brand of normal."

"Is normal weird?" Barbara asked.

"No…" Jim said, running his palm over one of his horns. "Well, I mean, kind of. I don't know, I guess I always thought that having a baby would be this crazy, hectic, world overturning thing, but it's all just been very… normal."

He shifted his body to dangle a leg from the branch beneath him and swung it absentmindedly back and forth. "It's going to be the first kid born in the New Trollmarket, the first child of a half-troll- a technical miracle child - and nothing feels different. Just the same old, same old."

"Oh, sweetie, it's still early," Barbra assured knowingly. "Mother nature's kind enough to give you a few months to prepare, but you're just getting started. Enjoy the calm before the storm while it lasts."

Jim sighed. "A part of me knows that, but there's this sense of… something about to go wrong that I can't shake."

"That never goes away," Barbara said. "As a fellow parent I can confirm you live in a constant state of worrying something will go wrong at all times."

"Oh, good." Jim commented flatly.

"No, I mean," Barbara sighed. "I mean, that's normal. It's normal to feel that way. It's a pre-parental parental instinct kicking in and it means if something ever does happen, you'll be ready to handle it."

Jim hummed, unconvinced. "I guess."

"You and Claire have a lot on your plate right now, and a baby is guaranteed to make your life even crazier- but if anyone can handle it, it's you two," Barbara assured, as supportive as always. "I mean, you've both been essentially babysitting a bunch of trolls all this time, so you're not exactly without practice."

"That's a good point," Jim snorted, amused. "Maybe a baby will be easier."

"They're definitely smaller." Barbara allowed. "You'll be fine; you're both going to be fantastic parents."

"I love you, mom." Jim said thickly after a moment.

"I love you too, honey," She responded and he could hear the smile in her voice. " And if you two have any questions, you can always ask me- pre or post baby. If you need to know anything I'm always-"

There was a sudden fwoosh on the other line, so jarring it made Jim flinch. His brows rose toward his hairline as he listened to Barbara's frantic scrambling.

"Shit-" Didn't catch yourself that time, mom. " -Now there's fire. Uh, I'll- I'll call you right back. Walt- !"

The call ended abruptly and Jim regarded his phone with concern.

It was only well into her pregnancy- roughly around the 18 week mark- that Claire even began to show.

Jim noticed it suddenly one day, as she was getting ready to head out for her first ultrasound, no less.

He had been lounging on their couch, flipping through one of the stacks of pregnancy books they had stolen away from Blinky's library when he noticed.

She was standing in the bathroom, door into the living room open wide, while she set about pinning up her hair. Her arms were up and her slim figure was unobscured and he saw it; the slight, but noticeable curve in her lower abdomen. It was easy to miss, easy for someone who wasn't half as familiar with her body as he was to completely overlook.

But it was there and, suddenly, that tiny discovery made everything feel so real.

There was a baby in there. His baby- their baby. And how in the world was there a baby growing in that tiny space in her stomach?

He must have been marveling at the burgeoning bump for too long, when Claire spoke up.

"Jim the Trollhunter," she began. "Bular Slayer, Gunmar's Bane, and Watcher of Girlfriends Applying their Lipstick."

Their eyes met in the mirror and the smirk tugging at the corner of Claire's pursed lips as she capped her lipstick was infectious.

"Sorry," Jim apologized, closing the book and sitting up. "Just zoned out."

Claire stepped out of the bathroom and approached the couch. Jim tossed his book aside as she moved to sit down across his outstretched legs and leaned into his chest.

"Ok, so," Claire began, tossing an arm around Jim's shoulders. "If I recall correctly, we should be able to find out the gender of the baby. And thus I've, officially, opened the betting the polls."

Jim bit back a chuckle as, with a dramatic flair, she raised her phone to read.

"Mary, Darci and Toby have all placed their bets on us having a girl. Your mom and both of my parents are saying boy. And I tried to ask Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, but they were confused as to why gender mattered at all. And while I do agree with them-,"

"For sure." Jim nodded, coiling his arms carefully around her waist.

"-The object of this game is completely lost on them and their votes will not be submitted at this time." She looked at him expectantly. "What'll it be, Jimbo?"

"Boy." Jim said, no second thought.

"You would," Claire nudged him playfully, but tallied his vote. "I'll say girl."

"You would."

When they had told him about Claire's condition- or, rather, after Toby told him first and the Galadrigal had feigned surprise- Blinky had been absolutely overjoyed with the prospect and set about acquiring as much knowledge as he could about the subject from his favorite source of information; books. He'd gone with salvage crews to retrieve them, donned the glamour mask to visit bookstores and libraries up top; going to great lengths to ensure he knew as much about her condition as he could possibly learn.

Between her mother, Blinky, Barbara and the Arcadian Ob-Gyn she had recommended, Claire had no shortage of people to turn to when she had questions.

But, what they had run into, was an issue of distance. Seeing any local specialists was risky, as they had no way of knowing if their baby would develop any definitively trollish traits. The safer option was to continue seeing the Ob-Gyn in Arcadia who had already been exposed to trolls and was more than eager to partake in bringing the child of a half-troll into the world.

What this meant for Claire, however, was a long drive whenever a visit was due; highly problematic if ever an emergency situation came up.

This provided Blinky and Jim all the more incentive to see to it the gyre station was completed as soon as possible.

But first, the forge.

The fourth day following Claire's departure from Trollmarket found Jim laying along the edges of the developing forge, pouring over another of Blinky's books and caught somewhere between feeling bad for his beloved and grateful he wasn't the pregnant one as he winced at the graphic images on the pages.

His phone buzzed with a message from Claire; a selfie from the clinic of her in a hospital gown, posing with Darci and Mary at either shoulder.

While he hated not being able to go with her, he was grateful that she wasn't alone.

"Master Jim!" Blinky called suddenly.

Jim sprung up, ears pricked in attention.

Across the grounds, stood the Trollmarket leader, flanked by the large, battle-hungry trolls who had been directly involved with getting the forge up and running. They were particularly eager then; stamping heavy feet and flexing dagger-like claws that were itching for a fight.

"Perhaps, our young Trollhunter would like to be the first to grace our new training grounds?" Blinky's voice carried across the cavern.

"Is it ready?" Jim asked, bouncing to his feet and running toward him. "Like, actually ready?"

"Only one way to find out," Blinky said meaningfully as he reached for a lever.

Jim grinned eagerly, blood pumping as his armor clanged around his body.

The lever was pulled and Jim rose into the air as the ground beneath his feet broke off into platforms of varying heights. A second lever was pulled and Jim launched himself to a higher platform, dodging blunt projectiles and javelins as they were fired every which way. A third lever had the platforms rotating and rising and falling, wildly, with no discernible pattern.

With each lever or chain pulled, switch flipped or button pressed, a new obstacle was thrown Jim's way and he took it in stride. It felt like it had been ages since he had been really tested, since his physical ability was challenged and, when his helmet closed around his head and a javelin flecked harmlessly off his forehead, he realized he might have gotten just a little rusty.

"Careful, Master Jim!" Blinky roared from below, a hearty laugh bursting from his chest. "Our fair Claire wouldn't forgive us any time soon if something happened to her beloved Trollhunter!"

"Pfft. Her beloved Trollhunter wouldn't be your biggest fan, either," Jim threw back, weaving out of the path of a wayward spike.

"Ha! I daresay we're more concerned with her wrath than your own!" Blinky countered in good humor, punching yet another button.

By the end of the course, Jim actually felt sore. His muscles ached and his old battle scars burned, but he felt almost giddy from the rush.

Blinky, grinning, clapped him on the armored shoulder and they both watched as the other trolls charged out into the arena.

"You know, Blink," Jim began, eyeing the stack of new prenatal books that had been added to the growing pile on the table. "I think you might have a problem."

Blinky turned away from the pulsing, rich green glow of the heartstone. "Ah, yes. I might have gotten… just a touch carried away," he admitted with a sheepish smile. His staff tapped audibly across the library floor as he neared the table. "But it's all rather exciting, isn't it? In a few months time, Master Jim, you will have fathered the very first child born in New Trollmarket!"

He clapped Jim on the shoulder and the Trollhunter winced, still sore from training.

"Yeah, totally. Exciting." Jim agreed, noncommittally. He grabbed the nearest book and flipped through the pages. With his mind buzzing, he didn't take the time to actually process the words in front of him, but it gave his hands something to do.

Blinky regarded him curiously. "Something troubling you, Master Jim?"

Jim took an intake of breath and released it with an anxious groan. "Still processing everything, I think. I mean, a couple of months ago, we weren't even sure this was possible. And now-" he gestured to the clutter of books surrounding him on the table, "-I'm reading pregnancy books."

Blinky hummed, nodding in understanding.

"I mean, I'm excited," Jim continued, running his fingers through his hair. "I am excited, don't get me wrong, but it's overwhelming. We accidentally made a tiny little person. Like, didn't even mean to, but we created an entire person and we're going to be responsible for them the rest of our lives and that's insane."

Book still in hand, Jim stepped away from the table and began pacing. Blinky's six eyes followed him around the room.

"I don't know anything about being a father- I barely even remember mine. How am I supposed to raise a child without completely screwing them up? Claire's going to be an amazing mother- she's amazing at everything- but me? I don't know what I'm doing half the time in general, just by default."

"You know," Blinky began, scratching his chin in thought. "I seem to recall hearing similar concerns from your predecessor, centuries ago, before the birth of his son."

Jim stopped pacing and looked at his mentor. "Kanjigar?"

Blinky nodded an affirmative. "Oh, he nearly drove us mad. I thought he was going to stress himself to death before Draal ever even emerged from his birthstone. But his son was born and, according to Kanjigar, everything just clicked into place."

"But," Jim frowned. "Draal and Kanjigar didn't exactly have… the best relationship."

"No, they didn't," Blinky agreed sadly. "At least not after he took the mantle of Trollhunter. Kanjigar was a commendable warrior, but he was far too set in his ways. Draal and he very rarely saw eye to eye- especially when it came to Nomura," he winced at the memory. "But what Kanjigar the Courageous lacked, you, Master Jim, possess in spades."

"And what is that, exactly?" Jim asked cautiously.

"The ability to learn from your mistakes and rise above them," Blinky proclaimed, making his way around the table and toward the Trollhunter. "I never experienced fatherhood- not in any biological sense, anyhow. But from my own observations, I know every parent has shared your concerns at some point and they've all made their fair share of mistakes. How can they not when they're, as you said, trying to raise an entire child without 'screwing them up?'" He raised his lower pair of arms to bob his fingers, marking the phrase with quotation marks.

"I'm not worried for a moment that you will be anything less than an excellent father. You've done nothing but exceeded my expectations in all the time that we've known each other and I have no doubts you will continue to do so."

"So then, what I'm hearing is you do have doubts about my parenting skills." Jim said, with a smirk and a nervous chuckle.

Blinky fixed him with a look and a disapproving grunt.

Jim raised his hand in concedence. His palm fell atop the book in his hands and he brushed it across the glossy cover, producing an audible rasp of stony skin against cardboard.

"Maybe you should look into getting a book or two on what to do when the baby's actually born." Jim suggested, passing the book to the troll. "You know, just to mix it up a little."

"I'll see what I can do," Blinky said with a reassuring smile.

Jim blearily cracked open his eyes, needing several moments to register the small hand on his shoulder that shook him awake.

He lifted his head from his pillow and his eyes met Claire's. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair still pinned and wearing her day clothes, as if she had come home and made a beeline right for their bedroom. Her eyes were tired, but there was an excited spark present there.

Still half asleep, he shot her such a dopey fond grin her heart was set aflutter.

"Hey," he greeted, voice husky. He sluggishly placed his hand over hers.

"Hey," Claire reached up to flick her fingers through his messed bangs. "I'm sorry, I was going to let you sleep, but I couldn't help myself," she passed him a photo. "I brought you a present."

"Oh, my favorite," Jim yawned and tried to make sense of the sonogram photo she had given him. "... What exactly am I looking at? Like, I know this is… you," he gestured vaguely to the entirety of the photo, "but I can't figure anything out beyond that."

"These," Claire outlined an area around the center, "are our babies."

She was careful to lay on the emphasis, but in Jim's semi-conscious state, it soared right over his head.

She was disappointed, but the incredulous look on his face as he regarded the photo more than made up for his lack of reaction.

"Wow…" He looked up at her. "So, who won the bet?"

"Well, it was hard to tell; the other one kept getting in the way." She was practically vibrating with anticipation.

"Oh…" Jim trailed off, somewhat disappointed until he actually registered her words. He fixed his now puzzled gaze on her. "Wait, 'the other one?' Other what?"

"The other one," she tapped the photo with a smirk, "They weren't the most cooperative babies."

Jim froze, mouthing the word in confusion. He looked to her for clarification.

Claire only grinned and waggled two fingers meaningfully.