He was getting tired of the back and forth. They had been arguing for what now felt like the better part of half an hour. Why was it so hard to get her to understand that her plan was not only short-sighted and naïve –no matter how well intended– but also suicidal?

"You do realize that if he kills me, he kills you." That only made her cheeks flush in anger and her eyes narrow with indignation. He cut her off before she could reply, "but by that same token, while I am wearing the ring, the same magic that keeps him from harming me stops him from harming you."

"Oh sure, the soul binding idea was an elaborate plot to keep me safe." Barbara crossed her legs and folded her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the tree. She glared at him in challenge. Let him try and lie about his motives.

"Yes and no. Honestly, my top concern was keeping your son and his little friends from killing me but the thought of your well being did cross my mind and was one of the reasons I went through with it." He frowned and ran a hand through his hair, "Believe it or not, it was a hard decision to make and I almost didn't do it. But I can't say that I have much regret over it. That very night after the bond was made your son had his blade at my throat. Do you think he would have spared me otherwise?"

For a few moments the wind rustling the leaves above them was the only sound.

"Jim is a good kid. I don't think he would have killed you in cold blood," she said after a few minutes. The very idea of her son killing anyone or anything still made her exceedingly uncomfortable.

"Indeed, he is an exceptional young man but he is growing into his role as a warrior and after the grief I've caused him I do believe he would have gone through with it."

"Well, if you're going to keep your word and stop antagonizing him, I'm sure that will change," she said with an unhappy frown. "But, back to the original topic, I don't think Angor Rot will kill you, either. Not if you were to give him his soul in a show of good will. I could come with you and help explain. If you're so certain I will die either way, I don't see what the point in not going would be."

"Absolutely not! If I did agree to this absurd plan you would be far out of striking distance. I'm not entirely confident that I could out run him but you certainly could not." His phone chimed out a brief melody and he looked down at it. His alarm was going off.

"Well, my lunch hour is nearly over. I need to get back to the school before someone has need of me. The role of principal is unfortunately demanding at times."

"Principal?" Barbara asked skeptically. "I thought you were a history teacher?"

"Yes, I was. But the position suddenly became available and I graciously accepted the job," he said with a self satisfied little smirk that he just couldn't help.

"Dammit, Walt! Did you kill a man to take his job?" Her look of outrage was enough to remove his light mood. He couldn't understand her shocked disbelief. Surely she knew the nature of war, even on the fringes of it as she was.

"You are so against killing and yet your son is the Trollhunter and your new best friend is Draal the Deadly. However did he come by such a moniker, I wonder?"

"Don't patronize me."

"I'm only trying to point out the double standards. Did you simply not know that he is a well renown warrior with the troll mindset of 'always finish a fight' or is it something else that has made you so lenient towards the son of Kanjigar? If it's because you think he's never killed a human before I can almost guarantee that he probably has," he said with a shrug. "And, for the record, I didn't kill Mr. Levit. He's merely frozen in a stasis. When I'm able, I do try and limit the body count in the places I live, to avoid suspicion if nothing else. Once I no longer have need of his position I'll step down." He had to shut off his alarm as it beeped a second reminder.

"When he is revived the assumption will be that he had an accident and has amnesia. Everyone will get to go back about their business with minimum hiccups. I didn't have to show mercy but I have worked with the man for several years now, and despite having no regrets about taking advantage in such a fashion, it did seem a shame to simply kill him." He looked down at his watch. "But I really do need to go."

Barbara reached out and grabbed his hand as he stood up. She got to her feet as well and then said, "Come by the house tonight. We'll have more time to continue this conversation."

"Really? I had thought the matter was settled." He bent down to clean up their meager picnic. Barbara moved to help him and they were done in less than a minute.

"Walter, I think you owe me quite a lot by this point. Just come by around six."

He sighed and rolled his eyes, giving in with bad grace. "Fine. I will see you later this evening, then." If he had known falling for a human was this much work he would have tried harder not to.

He looked back at her as he began to make his way to the car. Bathed in dappled light, a look of resolve on her features, and the wind blowing loose strands of auburn hair, she looked as lovely as ever. That she wanted to try and work things out and hadn't simply cut him out of her life still amazed him. Forgiveness might well still be an option and he'd come this far, he didn't feel like throwing it all away now.

O-_-o-_-O

Jim had not come home after school. Instead, he had sent her a text saying that he and Toby would be going to Claire's for a study night and would be home later in the evening. It did bug her a little bit that he didn't even ask permission anymore but she let it slide and replied with a "stay safe" even if it seemed out of place for the reason he'd given. But they both knew he wasn't going to study.

She was anxious to tell him what she knew and was half way through a text saying as much before she thought better of it and deleted it. That conversation was something that needed to happen in person.

So, she had the afternoon to herself. Draal was also gone and she had no idea if he would be back before the time that she had set for Walt to come over. She hoped so. They were both against her plan but if she could win one over to her way of thinking then the other would be out voted and she'd be one step closer to seeing it through. She wasn't entirely sure why she was petitioning so hard for a troll she didn't even know but the situation just seemed so very wrong. This was someone's soul! Maybe the concept of such didn't mean as much to trolls as it did to humans? How could they be so indifferent?

To take her mind off of the heavy thoughts and to block out the notable silence of her empty house she decided to clean. Turning on the seldom used stereo in the living room she pulled out the cleaning products and got to work. There wasn't too much to do; between her and Jim the house always stayed rather tidy. It hadn't had a good deep cleaning in a while, though, so that's what she set out to kill time with.

An hour later she was washing the few dishes that had been left in the sink and singing along loudly to the radio playing in the other room.

"...'cause I got a man with a slow hand. I got a lover with an easy touch, I've got somebody who will spend some time, not come and go in a heated rush." It didn't matter if she was off key, it wasn't as if she had an audience. Or so she thought.

A knock from the direction of the basement door grabbed her attention. Startled, she dropped the bowl she was washing and caught a spray of soapy water in the process. Spinning around she saw Draal coming into the room with a smile that brought a blush to her face at having been overheard singing. The music crooned on uninterrupted.

"Didn't mean to catch you unaware," the troll said by way of apology. "You have a lovely voice. We trolls have our own songs and ballads, perhaps I shall sing for you some time."

"I can't sing my way out of a paper bag. Nice try,though," she answered with a self-depreciating chuckle as she snatched up the nearest towel to try and clean away the excess water.

"Why would you be in a paper bag and how would singing help?"

"It's only a figure of speech. A very odd one, actually, now that you mention it. Just, never mind." She shuffled past him and over to the radio to turn it off.

"How did your meeting with the changeling go?" He folded his arms across his chest with a knowing look. "He told you the same thing that I did, did he not?"

"Well, about that… I told him to come over tonight. There's a lot that we didn't have time to get into because he had to leave abruptly." She pulled a face at the memory but did not elaborate.

Draal sighed heavily and covered his face with his flesh hand. "You are far too persistent. Worse than a Mugglewump."

"I don't know what that is but I'm sure it wasn't meant to be flattering."

He didn't have to answer as a knock on the door interrupted them. "You're early," Barbara commented as she let Walt into the house.

"Only by a little. Hope you don't mind." He caught sight of Draal and they shared a look of exasperation. They might hate one another but in this they were united. This crazy human they'd let themselves get attached to was going to drive them insane at this rate.

O-_-o-_-O

"How on earth did we let her talk us into this."

Stricklander groaned in reply. "Could we just… not?" He was only half joking. The two of them were in the sewers below Arcadia and looking for a deadly assassin because compassion, apparently. He had switched from his human form and was nervously fingering one of the many knives that circled his collar.

"But would it be possible for you to hide that you still had the ring? Looking to avoid Barbara's wrath is what got us into this mess to start with. If there were a spell to hide it, wouldn't it mask your whole hand in the process?"

"Probably. Not that we have time to look for something like that at the moment, anyway. I don't give it a full hour before she tries to follow after us." They had made her promise to stay in the house. She had finally gotten her way in the matter of the ring, there was no way they were going to compromise with her wanting to come with him.

Well, no, the compromise was that Draal was with him whereas he would have preferred to have gone alone. If he weren't tied to Barbara and Angor Rot did try to kill him tonight he really didn't think that the other troll would make any move to help him. As it stood, Draal's concern for her would help keep him alive. Two targets raised his chances of escape.

"Of course, none of this would be happening if you hadn't woken him up in the first place," Draal pointed out with a snort. He was exceedingly annoyed with having to help clean up this mess.

"Because that thought has never once occurred to me. Thank you ever so much for pointing it out," Stricklander spit back with a roll of his eyes. He faltered a bit when Draal flicked him hard in the arm in retaliation for the sarcasm.

"Hey!"

"Barbara will forgive me," he said with a shrug. "And agree it was worth it."

Stricklander hissed briefly and bent to rub his leg. "You probably made her trip into something, you know how clumsy she can be!"

"Is it a bad pain?" The concern in the other troll's voice was genuine but he knew it wasn't directed at his comfort.

"No, it's fine," he answered honestly with an annoyed frown. He held up his hand to forestall any reply and his ears twitched as he picked up on the sounds echoing through the tunnels. Angor Rot would know by now that they were coming. They hadn't been attempting subtly.

Footsteps became clear and they were getting closer. "Last chance to back out," Stricklander whispered under his breath. Draal snorted and gave him a push forward. "This is absolutely ludicrous," he muttered as he took another step forward.

Yellow eyes turned around a corner and Angor Rot melted from out of the shadows to stand before them. He gave a curious look at the hulking blue troll standing further back and then turned his attention to the changeling.

"Isn't he one of the Trollhunter's companions?"

"Yes. We are currently in a tentative sort of alliance at the moment," Stricklander answered and hoped he wouldn't have to elaborate.

"An entirely unexpected alliance," the assassin mused. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What are you playing at now?"

This was it. The moment of truth. He hoped the stretches he had done before leaving would have him limber enough to flee. He knew Draal wouldn't have much trouble, the brute was terribly fast when he wanted to be. With a deep breath and a silent prayer, Stricklander held up his hand.

"I need you to swear that you will not do harm to the Trollhunter."

"We have already had this conversation," his voice was a low growl empty of amusement. But his eyes widened in shock when the changeling used his other hand to slowly work the ring off and held it out.

"This is what you want. In return, let the boy live. You have your freedom."

Instead of lunging for the ring, Angor Rot took a step back. "What is going on?" He looked around swiftly as if waiting for a hidden enemy to spring at him. He suspected a trap.

"What's going on," Draal spoke up, coming to stand a step closer to the changeling, "is that through many hours of arguing and threats of violence, the Trollhunter's mother has requested the ring be returned to you. Once she discovered it housed your soul she would not be swayed from her sense of justice. If you have any honor you should take it and leave the Trollhunter's family alone in return."

Angor Rot stood statue still for a very long moment while he assessed the situation. By now he had determined that they had come alone. The ring was already off of Stricklander's finger and within grabbing distance. All evidence suggested they were telling the truth. He barked out a laugh, baffled by the entire thing.

"All of this for one mere human?" He shook his head, unable to fully believe that this was really happening. "Have you honestly gone so soft?"

"Do you want the damn thing or not? Do we have your word?"

"I have no need for the souls of Merlin's champions if I have my own. I would let the boy live, I have no other reason to want him dead. His mantel is not my enemy just a promise of temporary relief from the hollowness." He held out his hand and held his breath in anticipation. At any moment either the trap would spring or he would finally have what he had spent centuries trying to reclaim.

With a stiff nod, Stricklander handed over the Inferna Copula. The was a moment of breathless silence as all three trolls waited for something to happen. When a full minute ticked by with nothing different, they all let out a collective breath.

Angor Rot frowned slightly and then slipped the ring on. When the something that they weren't sure was suppose to happen continued to not happen, the assassin gave an irritated huff. He brought the ring closer to his face to inspect it. He had hoped that putting it on would be enough. He did feel some warmth and rightness but it was just out of reach. Like a damp cloth on a parched tongue instead of actual water to relieve the thirst. But, it was a start and it was more than he had had in years. Most importantly, he was free. If the ring was his, it could not be used against him.

"Maybe you need to break it?" Draal asked, growing impatient of simply standing around doing nothing.

"No! You fool, you don't know what breaking it might do," Stricklander shot back. "One cannot use force against such heavy enchantments without knowing the risks."

Angor Rot nodded in agreement. "He is right. After all this time I would not be so reckless. I have research to do. If all else fails, I have a witch to hunt down." He looked up from where he had been staring fixated on the swirling yellow glow within the stone. "My thanks." He gave a formal deep bow, then turned and walked back the way he had come without another word.

The two of them remained where they were for a few minutes, neither one believing that the other troll had not attempted to kill them. After another couple of seconds Stricklander broke the silence, "That was almost too easy."

"Perhaps not everything needs to be a fight or end in bloodshed," Draal replied. For him it was a matter of experience. He hadn't known what to do when Jim had saved him from the ledge but he had been grateful for it even if his pride had taken a hit. These unusual humans and their sense of compassion continued to surprise him. It may not have been this night but he did worry that one day their inclination towards mercy would land them in trouble.

"Perhaps not." It was a foreign concept to one such as himself. Beaten and bred to take advantage, to use whatever leverage was available and to harden one's heart. Years of conditioning chaffed with this show of empathy. He shook his head and changed the subject before he became too distracted with introspection.

"I'm sure Barbara is going to gloat."

"Oh yes. We best prepare ourselves for her smugness."

O-_-o-_-O

Barbara anxiously sat watching the clock. It had not taken long to clean up the broken glass from where she had tripped into the table it was on. Whatever had hit Walter in the arm didn't seem like an attack as no other pain followed. She frowned and rubbed absently at her leg where she had bumped it. Now she regretted having cleaned house so thoroughly earlier. She had little else to distract her.

She briefly debated trying to make something for a late supper but thought better of it. Maybe she would order a pizza once the trolls returned. She smiled to herself; Jim always hated takeout and got offended anytime she ordered any. He would get over it.

A ringing caught her attention and made her jump. After she managed to get her heart rate back under control she went in search of the noise. Walter's phone, which he had left sitting on her counter, was buzzing with an incoming call. Curious, she looked at the caller-ID and debated on answering it for him. Who was Otto, she wondered. In the end she decided to let it go to voice mail.

As she turned around to go back to the living room she let out a startled yell at the tall, dark troll that was suddenly looming in her kitchen. He had entered through the back door while she had been distracted. She bumped into the counter as she backed away from him, intimidated and confused.

He didn't need an introduction. Despite never having seen him before now, she knew that he had to be Angor Rot. Barbara forced herself to calm down as her mind raced to catch up with the situation.

The troll was wearing the ring that had been at the center of a full day of arguing and she was still alive and not in any pain so that meant Walter was likely perfectly fine. So she took a steadying breath and waited. He looked her up and down with deep consideration in his expression. Finally he spoke, "It seems that I owe you a debt."

She felt her shoulders sag in relief and she shifted to lean more casually against the counter top. "It was the right thing to do. You don't owe me anything. Just don't try to murder my son or our friends and we'll call it even."

Angor Rot shook his head.

"That does not begin to cover what you have done for me." He frowned and then tilted his head as he thought. "I could remove the bond that the changeling has with you. I was the one who crafted the charm, after all."

Barbara's eyes widened at the offer.

"If you made it, then you could tell me exactly what it is and what it's for. I had another troll look me over but he really couldn't give me anything more than what I already knew."

"Very well. To start, it is a bastardization of an ancient marriage ritual." He paused at her look of surprise. When she didn't say anything he continued. "Originally, it was to ensure that spouses would not outlive one another and to allow for a greater unity as they would be aware of the other's emotions and could come to their aid if needed."

"That's nothing like what I was expecting," she said softly, her brows furrowing as she listened.

"The enchantment on you is incomplete but should you ever become intimate with the changeling it would seal it. If the bond were completed the superficial mirrored pains would stop but the inner bond would strengthen to a level almost of telepathy. You would share his life span and his strength. Bonded couples are harder to kill but, that said, if one does die the other follows swiftly after. With his many enemies I would advise you to sever the tie now."

"Would it hurt?"

"Him physically, you mentally. I do not mean that you would be in pain but it would remove your memories of everything that happened after the spell was cast. You would remember everything before but very little about the events following it." He knew it was not an ideal ultimatum. It was one of the many reasons why the ritual had fallen out of use over the years. But for the return of his soul he would give her the choice.

"When? How much would I be losing?"

"Seventeen days."

Her eyes widened and she brought a finger up to trace her bottom lip as she considered very carefully. "I think," she said slowly, "that I will keep it." She smirked, "Besides, it's one of the weapons I have to use against him."

Angor Rot shook his head, having suspected this would be her answer. "That may be but it is far from your strongest asset. You were able to get him to do a great many things already, all of them outside his nature. You are the weapon." He gave a nod at her look of realization. "If you do not want me to lift the bond then for now I will take my leave. The debt still remains but you may have need of it later. Thank you." He gave her a deep bow and then turned to leave.

"You're welcome," she called after him. He shut the door behind him and she ran a hand through her hair.

"Wow." She now had a lot to think about.

The phone on the counter startled her back to high alert. It was Otto again. She frowned, and once more debated on answering it. When it cut off and then started ringing a third time not three seconds apart she decided that maybe she should offer to take a message.

"Walter Strickler's phone," she answered in her most professional voice.

"Who are – no, no time," a thickly accented voice on the other end of the line said in a rush. "Tell Strickler that this is a courtesy call. The Order has deemed him too unpredictable and liability. He has maybe twenty minutes tops to get out while he can. Let it never be said I've not risked my neck for that bastard. They're sending rust-trolls. Good luck!" Despite the grim warning the man sounded almost cheerful as he hung up before she could respond.

She looked at the screen as the call ended and felt a lump of dread form in her stomach. She hoped that Walt and Draal would be making it back soon. 'Maybe twenty minutes' was a woefully short amount of time to prepare.

I wrote a version of the picnic scene in which Strickler /did/ kill the principal (as is what clearly happened in the show) but for this story, it felt a little too heavy. I'm still a bit torn on it but if I had left it, it would have taken a LOT more work to let him and Barbara get together later. Maybe I'm taking the easy way out but I'll leave that plot point to more skilled writers to do justice.
Barbara is singing Slow Hand by The Pointer Sisters
I hope I did everything else well enough. Redemption arcs are hard.
Rust trolls are from the book, which is where I got mugglewumps from too. Hm... I think that's everything. If you've got questions just ask! Hope you're still enjoying!