Greetings all, and Happy Halloween. I hope you enjoy the latest chapter. It's so busy during this part of the year, I hope to update more quickly but I can't promise anything. Day to day life is distracting, isn't it?

Chapter 4

Making Friends is Super Hard

Toby ambled into the Lake house and sat on the sofa, arms and legs throbbing. "Everything hurts."

"If a metric ton of crystal can't keep these guys fed for a while, we're in deep trouble." Claire rubbed her arms, stretching as she sat beside him. "Oh, sitting feels good." Toby nodded – it had taken them hours, but the gyre was finally filled with box after box of broken crystal, both from the heartstone and the miscellaneous gems that made up the market before its destruction. Jim's troll form and their multiple carriers had made it a fairly simple errand to transport everything. If very, very tiring.

Now Jim was sprawled sideways in an armchair, limp as a shoestring. He opened his eyes and glanced around the chair. "So…remind me again how many animals you've taken in?" Toby peeked back and saw a goat standing on the hardwood floor, looking as if it owned the room. It bleated at them.

The house was definitely different. Mordred's influence was obvious; birds had perches and settled whenever they pleased, twittering and eating at any one of the bowls of seeds and berries in the house. Toby spotted elaborate birdhouses installed on the walls. He wondered if Mordred had made them, as they had a rough hewn feel to them and were painted in thick, bright colors. Rabbits sat in the corner munching on some green plant, and a pair of cats were grooming themselves on the back of the sofa. In spite of the animals, Toby couldn't detect odor from feces or dirt – the scents of fruit and timothy hay were sweet.

Mordred clicked his tongue and the goat perked up, trotting over to him. He crooned to her, rubbing her ears. "Twenty-four not counting the birds, they come and go as they like. Nutmeg here just had a kid a couple weeks ago, she's a little anxious." She didn't look it as Mordred's gentle fingers rubbed her head, eyes shut blissfully. "Nibbles, come on!" Toby cocked his head as Mordred called. There was something weird about his voice, something that reminded him of the underbrush and fur rustling. Mordred noticed his expression and smiled. "Most people can't pick up on it."

"So James was telling us you talk to animals, right? You can tell them to do things?" Toby asked. Mordred frowned as if he disliked the thought.

"I can ask them. And they don't understand complicated things – I just tell them that if they want to stay, they'll be safe and fed here. And they can't leave droppings indoors. Things like that. They don't understand words very well, more like…intent. And feelings." The clatter of tiny hooves made him light up. "Ah, Nibbles. There you are." A tiny goat kid came leaping into his arms, bleating loudly.

The door shut and James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, they go outside and everything. Mordred's just got such a big heart for animals that whenever we find one…"

Toby suppressed a laugh. After everything Mordred had gone through, he couldn't blame James for wanting to spoil him some. Especially when he wanted to take care of homeless animals. The young man looked so different from the last time they'd seen him – his skin was darkening to tan, likely from hours outdoors even in the winter. His wild hair had been mastered into a ponytail, and he wore clothes that James probably picked out, blue jeans and long-sleeved shirts. One might think he was a handsome, ordinary guy that liked his hair long. But Toby could see tiny signs of the truth. He fidgeted a little, the way a kid expected to stand still for long periods of time might. He laughed loud, without a filter. He didn't seem aware of his size, sometimes hugging Jim so hard he was lifted off the floor. Jim took it in stride.

Draig trotted into the room, carrying a bag by the straps in his jaws. "Oh yeah – Jim, does this look familiar at all? Draig's still rooting around in the wreck and found this the other day." Jim sat up as James brought the bag over, giving Draig a fond pat. "It's this weird old box with a bunch of jewels in it. Sounded like the thing you mentioned a while back."

Jim's face lit up. "The stones! From the previous Trollhunters!" He carefully tilted the lid back, examining the crystals. "You found them!"

James looked pleased. Claire gave the box a wary look. "Let's give that one a wide berth, hm? I don't know if I could handle Romantic Jim again." She pointed at a particular rock.

"I don't know, Whiny Jim was pretty annoying." Jim shut the box. "I appreciate you guys still keeping an eye out. Hopefully we can find more things that'll help New Trollmarket." Draig barked and licked his hands.

Toby shook his head. "Yeah, last thing we need is a bunch of single-personality-facet Jim clones running around again."

Mordred blinked. "Wouldn't it be easier to get things done if there were more of you? Well, at least until they all ganged up on you or something and tried to take out the original you." Jim started. Had James told him about that? The three looked at James, who patted Mordred's shoulder.

"He's been watching cartoons lately, he really likes them. You know, there's always the 'clone yourself and it goes awful' episode."* James leaned casually against the side of the armchair. "So, that's a pretty good birthday gift I guess."

"Definitely. These stones have been around for centuries, I'd hate for that to get lost. I'll give them to Blinky when we get back." Jim met his father's eye and frowned. The man was giving him an exasperated look. "…What?"

"If you seriously think I'm going let a box of rocks be the first birthday present I give you after being gone for years, you're nuttier than an acorn tree." James ruffled his hair. "C'mon kid, what do you want for your birthday?" Jim buried his face in one hand. "Seriously, there's gotta be something."

"If you'd asked me a few months ago, I would have said, 'I'd like to be human again.' And you guys already made that happen." Jim traced a thumb down the box absently. "I really don't want anything else. Everyone's already done so much."

Toby stood up, stretching before miming adjusting something over Jim's head. "Sorry Jimbo, just making sure your halo is on straight. You make Boy Scouts look like members of the Bratva." Jim rolled his eyes. "Come on dude, just pick something. New blender, gift card, Gun Robot limited edition pez dispenser?"

"Pony?" James interjected. Jim's brows rose. "What, you liked ponies when you were a kid. That not a thing now? I got a pony for my thirteenth birthday…horses are great."

"Seriously, if we can just ignore my birthday this year it'd be great." Jim got up and gave them all a severe look. "I mean it. No surprise party. I'd rather put the energy into making some kind of shelter for the brownies and making sure they can be safe."

Mordred had watched this exchange with fascination. "How big are the brownies?"

"About four inches tall, but there are five hundred of them." Mordred absorbed this thoughtfully. "I'm going to head back to the gyre and make sure everything's tied down. We can leave in a little while if you want to visit in Arcadia," Jim added, looking at Claire in particular.

"We'll meet you down there in a bit." Claire folded her arms as he left. As soon as the door clicked shut she turned to the three. "He really does hate surprise parties."

"Darn, there goes that idea." James scratched his head furiously. "What was his favorite birthday gift ever? Give me a reference point."

Toby hummed uneasily. "Well, Blink did manage to get all the parts for a Vespa. They built it together." James sat in the newly vacated chair, mulling this over. "Then Merlin used it to build armor for Claire and me…still feel bad about that. Maybe we can get a new Vespa for him? They're a pretty penny new…"

James waved a hand. "Money's not the issue. I just want it to be something meaningful, y'know? You say Blinky actually found working parts for a Vespa? That's commitment right there."

"A little friendly Dad competition?" Claire asked, tone gentle. James shrugged a shoulder mulishly. "Maybe you and Blinky can brainstorm. I bet Jim would like anything you two worked together to make or do." Toby straightened – now that was a good idea. "I'm going to check in on my parents before leaving. Keep us posted, okay?"

"Will do." James winced as Nibbles butted his side. "It had to be goats."

Barbara traced a gentle circle on the changeling's back. "Right there?"

"Uh huh. It's really itchy." Calaba gave her a doleful look. "I think I've got stonescale."

Barbara sighed. "I think you do too sweetie. Let me get some balm and we'll wash you off." The little girl climbed down from the cot and Barbara took the time to disinfect it before leading her to the kiddie pool. "You'll need to stay separate from the other kids until it clears up, especially the little ones."

She looked sad. "I can't play with them?"

"Not tag or anything where you touch. But you can play games and dollies if you wear gloves and a clean shirt. I'll get you set up. Aaarrrgghh?" The large troll perked up – he'd been applying a fresh layer of balm to his arm. "Would you do me a favor and bring Calaba's blankets and bed clothes so I can give them a wash? Her toys too please." In all honesty it was probably too late to prevent it from spreading, but Barbara had to try something. The troll nodded and finished with the application, setting the container down and leaving the infirmary.

As he left Walter stepped through, nodding at the larger troll. "Ah, Calaba. It's struck at last?" The girl nodded unhappily. Nomura was behind him, both in human form. "I'm sorry to hear that. Don't worry, I won't expect you to focus on schoolwork until you're well." His voice was gentle with sympathy.

Barbara stroked Calaba's hair. "And maybe we can arrange a little get well card or two from the class, hm?" The little girl perked up and Walter nodded. Barbara always felt warm when he looked at her, eyes gentle and creased with a smile.

"As always you are the physician to the spirit as well as the body." He took her hand and kissed her fingers swiftly. Calaba giggled and Barbara shook her head amusedly. "I was bringing these little creatures by. They were hiding out in one of the gnome caverns, and the gnomes didn't take it well." Ten brownies skittered behind him, looking irritated. Calaba glared at them.

"You meanies ate our candy." The lead brownie drew himself up and chattered angrily at her. "I don't even know what you're saying!" Calaba crossed her arms and hid behind Barbara. "Why are they so mean?"

"I don't think they're trying to be. They just don't understand." Barbara knelt and one brownie approached, sniffing her hands. "Blinky said something about gifts making them happy. Have we tried giving them something nice?"

"Aside from trying to shelter them and get food for them, technically no." Nomura sat in the nearest chair. "I came by to pick up some mint and ginseng, I figured you had some in the supply closet." Barbara nodded and went to fetch the herbs. "Let me see…"

Nomura put a hand in her pocket and drew out a handkerchief. "If someone tried to give me this as a gift, I'd be pretty disappointed." Walter mimicked her and found only a plain pen in his breast pocket. Barbara fished around in her scrubs and discovered the Roman penny that had been given to her.

"Hm. Let's try anyway, they might like this stuff." Barbara held out her hand and four of the brownies gathered around. "I'd like to give this to you as a token of friendship and respect. It's a very old piece of currency used by humans. Also, it's shiny." It was dark but still held luster when she tilted it. The brownies' eyes grew huge. The leader accepted it and let out a high-pitched, delighted screech. Barbara flinched as the set jumped in place, whooping with glee. "Uh…okay."

Nomura shook her head. "Weird little guys. But here." She offered her handkerchief, clean and folded neatly. "Maybe one of you can use it for a blanket?" More whooping occurred, and when Walter gave them the pen, the entire room echoed with the tumult. The ten calmed after a moment, chittering to each other seriously, before darting around Barbara and staring at Calaba.

Then they started spitting on her. She squealed and fled the room, brownies in hot pursuit, and Barbara winced. "Oh…that didn't work. Guys, stop! Stop it!" She darted after them, Walter right behind and Nomura a step beyond.

"How much saliva can they generate?" Claire stood back from the box, exasperated as the furry creatures surged around it, hauling out bits of broken crystal and munching away. "Maybe they'll be better with full stomachs."

Blinky made a circle around the group. In one set of arms he held the box of Trollhunter stones. "I'm truly glad we've gotten these back. I'll lock them up so none of our mischievous friends gets the wrong idea about them. They might liken it to a box of bonbons!" He shook his head. "Certainly trolls of different types have unique cultures, but I've never heard of spitting being anything but gross and rude."

Jim lifted his head. "Is there a musical number in Beauty and the Beast?"

Toby hit the crystal once more, breaking the large chunks into easy-to-eat slivers. He set Warhammer down. "Yep. Several, actually."

"I mean for the beast. I will throw myself off stage before singing in front of a bunch of strangers." Claire sat beside him, scanning the open script in his lap.

"No, this one's not going to have that number. It's closer to the movie, and Jeff wasn't a great singer.." Jim sighed with relief. Then he started – his phone was buzzing. He took the call, looking concerned.

"Merlin? Hi, yeah, I was worried yesterday. Did you get away from the police okay?" He was silent for a moment. "Uh huh. So Cato's all right? Glad to hear that. Have you found another one of your studies then?" Silence again, and this time Jim's face went ashen. "What do you mean you broke into Buckingham Palace!?" Claire covered her mouth in horror. Jim swallowed his shrieks, a visible strain. "The Queen's Guard never reacts when you try to talk to them. That's their thing! Passerby always bug them and they don't respond. That doesn't mean they're under some kind of control...yes, they wear those odd hats on purpose. They're not being controlled." Jim planted his face against the wall, leaving his mouth free so he could speak. "I get it, I understand. You were trying to help. Please tell me no one saw you."

Toby shook his head wordlessly. Claire exchanged a look with Strickler and Barbara, who both had eerily similar, exasperated expressions. Nomura was holding back laughter. "Okay. That's good. Merlin, it's really great that you were concerned for the guards, but if you would call before doing something like that, I'd really appreciate it."

A soon-to-be seventeen-year-old should not sound like an exasperated, middle-aged parent. Toby waited until Jim hung up before saying, "Where's he off to next?"

"Russia. Pray he doesn't reignite the Cold War." Jim groaned. "I shouldn't have let him go alone. He means well but he doesn't understand things!"

"Jim, it's not your job to babysit him. You know he would never have let anyone boss him around anyway." Barbara's voice was cool. "We should figure out these little guys first. We're good on food and Aaarrrgghh was going to look into making more housing for them. What we need to worry about now is communication, boundaries, and safety."

Strickler wrapped an arm around her, stroking her back soothingly. "I agree. If they can't abide by certain rules…I have to wonder if they'll be able to stay here peacefully." Toby recoiled mentally – they couldn't just send the brownies away. Not for dumb little things like spitting everywhere. And terrorizing some of the trolls. And making messes, possibly putting the heartstone at risk, and angering trolls to the point of violence.

Claire seemed to be thinking the same thing as him, if the worry on her face meant anything. Jim crossed his arms, amulet in one hand. Toby hadn't even seen him take it out of his pocket; it had become a grounding technique, something to ease his anxiety. "We'll figure it out. We can't just send them away, it's not right." He glanced down and his brows creased. "And…now they're spitting on the leftovers."

Toby knelt to watch them. "There must be a reason they're doing it. They ate most of it, they're not grossed out." The brownies seemed cheerful as they spat on the flecks of crystal. "I just wish we could understand them properly. Wingman's good, but they talk so differently from gnomes."

Blinky twisted his hands together uneasily. "I'll research them more. And I'll give Dictatious a call. There must be a method of communing in a way we can both understand."

Claire tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe Merlin would have some kind of potion? Something to let us understand other languages. We can ask when he gets back."

"He should return before the month is out. Surely we can last that long?" Strickler said calmly. They all shared a long, pensive look as the brownies continued spitting with no apparent effect on the crystal.

Kwagga was a mild mannered goblin. He liked naps in warm, dry places, raw beef washed down with a tankard of glug, and a good game of Mahjong. He was not fond of the hairy little creatures that had invaded the market.

They lay in piles in the Hero's Forge, covered in blankets and snuggled in together. He grimaced; he'd come down to look for a few gnome friends, forgetting the the budding battleground was now sheltering the brownies. A few of them kept watch and their ears shot up when they saw him. Tails lashing, they chirped warnings in his direction. He grumbled and crawled back out the tunnel.

He could understand the brownies being nervous. All goblins had heard of the delicious flavor of the brownie. But however good they smelled, Kwagga felt queasy at the idea of eating any creature that seemed to be able to use some semblance of cognitive reason. Goblins had eaten humans before, and the thought chilled him. Their troll hunters and doctor were mainly humans, and harming any of them was unthinkable. They were odd and bathed too often and seemed entirely too fixated on rules and propriety, but there was no question that things were better in New Trollmarket than it ever would have been without them. And one day it might even be better than Heartstone Trollmarket too.

He forced himself not to stop and scratch – his back was doing better with the balm, but nothing could alleviate all the itch – and pushed ahead through the tunnel.

Kwagga stopped and sniffed. The fuzz along his chops stiffened. He turned in place, ears twitching. "Who there? I don't know your smell."

From behind rocks and cracks and from tiny openings – the beginnings of tunnels that would branch off into yet unbuilt rooms – goblins crept forward. "Kin," one whispered. "You live among trolls?"

Immediately the pull of the hive mind started. Kwagga yanked his will back, flinching. He would not be pushed into a goblin mob like so many. "Live here, yes. Safe. How you reach this place?"

"All places have holes. All dwellings have mice." There were two leaders. He could sense their individual wills and knew they were different. One was ravenous hunger, something dark. The other was old, a little tired, concerned for a group. A "normal" goblin, one that might be reasoned with. Kwagga found the eldest goblin and fixed his eyes on the old creature. The blood goblin leader leered. "Where are brownies?"

Kwagga cocked his head. "Bakeries. Have many pastries. Yum." The blood goblin scowled. "Oh, you mean furry ones?" There was no point pretending they weren't there; these goblins had come for only one thing, and they definitely knew about the creatures. Could he get the troll hunters to help in time? "Think they near heartstone."

"You join us, eat with us. Do not lie to us." The blood goblin scuttled over to him, rising on his legs to be taller than Kwagga. "I Fama. I know when little goblins lie."

Kwagga smiled in a friendly fashion. "Ah, just remember. Many this way too." He turned around and pointed. "Down there. Many juicy, sweet brownies, yummy and crunchy." Several of the goblins peered around him, distracted by the prospect.

In a breath Kwagga jumped to the side and over the rest, springing on all fours toward the heart of New Trollmarket, scattered yells following him. "Trollhunter! Trollhunter! Danger in the forge!" he screamed, pelting as fast as his legs would carry him.

Jim woke to see the white mass of a textbook page and smeared graphite. He lifted his head and grunted, finding that his pencil was stuck to his forehead. "Midnight…dang. How many more assignments do I have?"

He rubbed his eyes blearily. A blanket had been placed over his shoulders – probably Blinky or one of the others had seen him and left it – and he held on to it, appreciating the warmth. "Algebra's close enough. Only a couple problems left." He shut the book, looking instead to his Spanish book. "Just a worksheet for you I think."

Standing up, Jim bent backwards until his back popped. "C'mon, not too much more. The stonescale won't last forever, and the brownies will settle in eventually." He sighed. "Talking to yourself. Great sign."

It was a physical pain for him to see the trolls in such discomfort as they had been lately. Grumpy and whiny as they could be, he was in charge of protecting them. He knew they were doing everything they could – everyone was insistent that the efforts were the best possible – but it didn't make it any easier to watch. And the brownies running wild was something that had to stop.

At least no one was in real danger, right? Aside from some trodden tails and rashes, no one was at risk of getting hurt. He'd check for signs of the goblins at the practice tomorrow. Jim smacked his face, jolting awake, and looked down at the Spanish assignment. He hadn't gotten that far in it, had he? This was the second time he didn't remember completing something…

A shriek made him jump, running out of his alcove and instinctively donning Moonlight. The feeling of his horns and teeth ripping outward always hurt, but the pain woke him up more and he was glad for it. Kwagga came sprinting up to him, crashing into his shins. "What's wrong, what is it?"

Normal goblins couldn't manage human language, but Kwagga howled and pointed toward the tunnel to the Hero's Forge, and that was enough. The brownies were down there. Jim scooped up the goblin and took off, dropping to all fours when the tunnel grew rougher.

Pandemonium had erupted in the forge. Five hundred brownies were a maelstrom of terror and flicking tails as they ran. No fewer than three dozen goblins were chasing them, teeth snapping, and Jim recognized none of their scents from those in the market. He snarled loudly, making a few of the nearest creatures flinch in surprise. "Get out! Now!"

Only one looked unperturbed. It was a blood goblin, pink eyes looking wet and sly. He'd snatched one of the older brownies, the creature squealing in fear. In the time it took to blink, the goblin chomped down on the brownie's tail and swallowed it like a spaghetti noodle.

Jim roared, hitting the ground a few inches from the goblin, who released the brownie and backed up hastily. The little thing whimpered and Jim muttered soothingly to it. "It's okay. You'll be all right. Just hold the wound, keep pressure on it." The brownie obeyed and Jim picked it up, settling it in the collar of his armor. The scent of its blood was earthy, spicy, and the goblin was licking his chops greedily.

Jim dove for it, claws missing by a hair. The blood goblin cackled and moved with a speed that shocked him. "Brownie magic! Fama has now!"

Goblins shouldn't be this fast. Had ingesting the brownie's tail done this? The goblin flitted from place to place, Jim always a moment behind. The brownies dodged them both, the other goblins cowering as each landed and jumped again. "Run, run! Trollhunter is fast!" The speaking goblin led the way toward the tunnel. "Retreat for now!"

Jim tried to get to them, but the brownies were in the way. He risked stepping on the little creatures if he rushed. Furious, he pushed a hand between his horns and gathered the magic string between them. He flung it forward, into the tunnel, and though the goblins disappeared into the tiny openings that had never been a cause for concern before, one unlucky creature was tangled in the shining threads. It yelped, falling over like a tied hog, and Jim reached it as the rest of the tunnel went quiet save for the tiny scrabbles of goblin claws.

The goblin squalled and shook, baring its teeth. It was a normal one like Kwagga, a very dark green with old, wily eyes. Jim knelt, picking him up firmly and letting the threads vanish. The goblin waved its arms and legs, flailing, but Jim never lost his grip. "Stop. I'm not going to hurt you as long as you cooperate." The brownies grouped in the opening to the forge, whispering and staring. The injured one poked his nose out and hissed.

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, the goblin stopped fighting. Kwagga growled at him and Jim realized for the first time that the goblin had been holding onto his hair the whole time. Jim shifted back to human form, relieved by the return of his tactile senses. The brownie at his neck was soft and furry, and the little creature whined as he licked his tail, climbing into Jim's jacket pocket. The enemy goblin blinked at the change. "Yeah, human Trollhunter that has a changeling troll form." Jim held the goblin out like a cat given to clawing. "You and I are going to have a talk buddy. I don't take kindly to people threatening others around here. And you are going to tell me how you got in here." He turned his head to see Kwagga adjusting his weight to Jim's shoulder. "You're a hero Kwagga. If it wasn't for you, I might have gotten here too late."

Kwagga pulled a dog treat from somewhere on his person and munched on it, grinning jauntily. "Chaka-wa!"

End of Chapter 4

In case you were wondering, I do not plan on going the "clone to get everything done" route. The only time I've truly enjoyed that trope was in Gravity Falls, though it was rather amusing in Trollhunters since they weren't plain "clones."