"Roots of the weed sucked first life from the genesis of earth and hold the essence of it still. Always the weed returns; the cultured plant retreats before it."
- Beryl Markham
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The trolls in the market didn't bother Alexandra as she walked through them. She made eye contact with some, nodded to a few, and even found a few smiles aimed to her, but no one stepped on her path, and no one spoke. She understood that it was a time of mourning; they were feeling the loss of a trusted figure just as they were curiosity over a new one. She didn't take offense at the lack of conversation at all; what she wanted was silence, and a chance to be alone with her thoughts.
Eventually she walked until a warm glow encompassed her body, and she looked up to the enormous crystal that fed life into the caverns. She couldn't tell if it actually was alive or not – was the hum in her blood louder, a greeting? Or was she only imagining it?
She nodded to it, just in case. Surely something that gave life to thousands of people had to have one of its own.
There was a bridge that led to the Heartstone; picking her way along the edge of the cavern, she deliberately focused more on her thoughts than her surroundings.
She had been Changed and switched to serve as a watcher, a gatherer of detailed information. Her human family had sailed from Wales to New Jersey shortly after her 'birth'; she had been swapped for their child for the purpose of following the trolls across the sea, finding their trails and watching all of those, both troll and Changeling, who came to the new world. Her job had been to observe, so she refused to see now; she couldn't help but notice people, details, sounds and smells, but everything was filed away in favor of thoughts and emotions. Her job ended with the death of her familiar in 1964. As far as anyone knew, she – Verity, Petra, Leta – was dead as well.
As far as new beginnings went, Trollhunter wasn't too bad a start.
But therein lay the problem, didn't it? A Changeling as a Trollhunter? Changelings were known to be capricious, unpredictable, self-serving, and malicious. Their very existence was a lie; everything they were was a lie.
Whoever had decided to swap the whelp Alexandra for a Quaker baby clearly had not thought it through. Alexandra's community, her third childhood, was steeped in the values of honesty and integrity. For her very nature to be so dishonest still rankled at her.
The thrum of the Heartstone grew louder in her bones as she drew closer to it, slowly strolling through the market until she reached the bridge. There were no signs, no indications that the Heartstone was forbidden, and so she stepped onto the bridge, half expecting it to crumble beneath her feet.
Why did the Heartstone feel so warm to her? Changelings were…very nearly things, to both trolls and Gumm-Gumms alike. She would have expected something like the Heartstone to reject her outright. She was no longer one of its hearts – a child taken and changed into a weaving of abominations – but the hum was steady, and the light was warm. She didn't enter the hollow center of the crystal but put a hand to the glowing mass. It, and her amulet, pulsed once.
"You seem conflicted, Trollhunter. I trust that the training session was a success."
Alexandra didn't turn around. She'd heard Vendel's soft footsteps before he'd appeared from the hollow of the crystal.
It was a loaded question, and deserved an equally loaded answer. Vendel appeared to have enough power that Draal sought his help and Blinky retreated before his gaze. If she lied, he might find out later and think her cowardly, but if she told the truth he may think her weak, for what kind of Trollhunter couldn't even summon their own armor?
Option three is was.
"I've never seen one of these," she said quietly, laying her lower right palm flat on the Heartstone. The glow was powerful enough that she could see the dim outlines of her finger bones; only four on the second pair of hands, as was usual for trolls, but she had five on the first.
For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command, she thought in experiment. Nothing happened except a faint blue pulse from her pocket.
Vendel noticed.
"Our Heartstones can answer many questions, young Trollhunter – but not that one. The crystal is a binding force, a sort of soul magic, and it is no more or less connected to yours than to mine. It will not answer your questions simply because you are the new Hunter."
His assumption mildly surprised her.
"That wasn't why I came here," she murmured. Vendel looked up at the crystal's towering height; she wondered what his glassy eyes could see that hers could not.
"For someone to grow away from a Heartstone is almost unthinkable," he mused, almost to himself. "They are what connect us to each other in the darkness of the underground, they are what make us whole."
"It could have been worse."
Yes, I could have gotten eaten.
"Hmmm. Even if this is not your original Heartstone, it can still be yours, just as much as you, apparently, now belong to it."
"It would take me in that fast?"
"The Heartstone takes in all sorts, Trollhunter, and from many places. You should hardly be a burden to it."
Alexandra looked back at the Heartstone and wished she was alone. She hadn't felt that kind of acceptance, that unity, in decades – the ink stain that was her lie had always marred everything. But the Heartstone had to know that she was one of its twisted children, one of the changed – and still the thrum was steady.
Alexandra's hand started to shake and she removed it from the crystal before Vendel could notice.
"I suppose I should get back to work on this amulet."
"Hmph. I should certainly hope so. A Trollhunter with no command of the amulet is a poor one indeed!"
"You've never encountered any other with this trouble?"
Vendel raised an eyebrow at her.
"Trollhunters have had trouble finding their power before, whether it was because of doubt or fear. But there is only so much that you can learn from the warmth and the life of the Heartstone, daughter of Asphodelus."
Alexandra took a chance and said,
"Is it a requirement for you to be vague and ambiguous?"
"Do I look like your trainer? I thought not. If you want definite answers, I suggest you find Blinkous. Or perhaps his library," said Vendel. He clasped his hands behind him and turned, walking back into the hollow of the crystal.
"Either way, get to it."
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When Blinky and AAARRRGGHH found her again, she was ass-deep in a little fortress she'd built out of the piles of books she wanted to read out of Blinky's library.
"Vendel suggested I get some research done," she said defensively when they entered the room. She'd hadn't been sure at first about whether or not she actually had permission to use the library and had loitered outside the entrance until another troll came in and browsed a book. For apersonal collection the number of texts was staggering. There were books piled up higher than her head, precarious walls of tomes, tables almost hidden underneath scrolls and texts, and little piles where people had come and gone and just left their books around. The disorganization was immensely bothersome and Alexandra found herself clearing up little areas here and there, although she honestly couldn't comment on the mess when she ended up sitting on the floor with a pile of almost thirty books hiding her from the rest of the room.
And it was all about trolls.
History, folklore, physiology, music, art, culture, food – epics, romances, poems, novels, journals, and one extremely dark and personal diary.
The Darklands hadn't possessed much in the way of reading material (although there had been one soldier who liked to compose dark romance poetry). When she was still in the Janus order she hadn't been highly ranked enough to be able to acquire one of the rare troll or Gumm-Gumm texts that Stricklander hoarded.
"Ah, I see you've found Brynhilde's History of the Heartstone."
And Alexandra was taking notes. The moment she'd entered the library she'd loaded all four of her arms up and started reading. The amulet was surprisingly helpful when it came to translating the more obscure dialects of Trollish and, very slowly, she was practicing writing with her second right hand.
"My apologies if I made a mess."
A pile of books fell in a gentle cascade as AAARRRGGHH accidentally brushed them. Blinky didn't even move.
"Think nothing of it," he said dryly. "I'm simply glad to have recovered you. I believe we have found you a place to stay."
So have I, Alexandra thought. She grabbed the books nearest to her and stood.
"Do you mind if I borrow these?"
Blinky's eyes lit as he grinned.
"Oh course not!" he said. "Take whichever you like. I do have a few suggestions, though – "
He bustled around the room, snatching books from various tables and shelves. Alexandra's arms were soon loaded down, and AAARRRGGHH had to come to her rescue and take a handful from her.
"Now there's one that I really must insist you read, it's…where did…oh. I see you have it already."
The book was carefully extracted from the bottom of the fortress and dropped onto AAARRRGGHH's pile.
"A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore," he said proudly. "Volume one of forty-seven."
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Navigating Trollmarket was a little more difficult when Alexandra's arms were stacked with books, but she made it alright as long as she stayed in AAARRRGGHH's wake. Blinky led them out of the main marketplace and along the edges of the Heartstone's cavern until they turned into a wide passageway cut into the rock. Alexandra couldn't help but marvel at the geology of Trollmarket – if she were a geologist she'd probably have pissed herself by now. As it was, even the carved corridor they were in was speckled with tiny glowing crystals. They emerged onto a sort of courtyard on the opposite side of the Heartstone from Trollmarket. All around them towered the vast walls of the cave, and carved into the walls were hundreds upon hundreds of homes; doors and stairs cut straight into the rock, balconies jutting out at random and a thousand glowing windows dotting the cave like stars.
The further they moved in, the more Alexandra wondered if this was a bad idea. Perhaps she should have stated that she already had a home, or specified the desire to live on the edges of or even outside of Trollmarket. It would be extremely difficult to do anything without having someone watching where she went.
Blinky, oblivious to her worries, kept on. He and AAARRRGGHH would occasionally converse, but they left Alexandra to her thoughts, and she was grateful.
She'd have to uproot and disappear from her human life, most probably. 'Trollhunter' was a full-time responsibility; she wouldn't be able to keep her job in the shop. She'd have to delete her human identity, again – going back and forth to and from the surface daily would be extremely suspicious. Her storage unit was rented for six more months; surely in that time she would find something to do with her stuff, or would think of a way to keep some semblance of a human life, even if she only went to the surface occasionally.
Her musing ended when AAARRRGGHH and Blinky stopped walking, and Alexandra saw exactly where they had placed her.
It wasn't completely isolated, but it was in a significantly less crowded area. There was only one door for a long stretch of rock, and just a single staircase leading to it. The windows of the sparse neighbors were far enough away that she could probably transform now, and not be seen.
"A Trollhunter requires significant privacy and quiet," said Blinky. He was smiling at Alexandra, and she knew that he had read her like a book.
"How can I pay for this?"
"Your services are all that are needed," replied Blinky, which Alexandra took to meaning 'do everything we tell you to do'. If it got her a private space, it was worth it.
AAARRRGGHH dropped off her books, and with a promise to begin training again the next evening, they left her to herself.
The dwelling was only two rooms, spacious enough that she didn't feel claustrophobic, but very sparse and rather small. The main room consisted of a bed that was a low slab of rock covered in leather and fur sheets, and there was a single table and stool. The small bathroom didn't have a shower or tub, but Alexandra had noticed public baths among the residential areas. All in all, it wasn't much, but she'd slept in much worse in the Darklands, not to even mention the 1970's. It was private, quiet, and it suited her well. The crystals embedded into the stone walls and ceiling were a very calming pink and blue, and when she looked out of her single window the entirety of the Heartstone bathed her face in light.
She put her books away as well as she could and sat in the middle of the open floor. She had planned to research the amulet and history of the Trollhunters further, but she knew that if she settled into a research project now she wouldn't emerge until someone came to check that she was alive, and the whole amulet problem was a glaring failing that needed to be rectified as soon as possible.
Alright, you fucker, she thought, rolling the amulet through her fingers.
It was warm to the touch; she'd had it in her pocket all day but she knew that the metal was alive somehow. The engravings changed as she looked at it; first in English, then in runes, then Trollish, and then back to Old English. It was connected to its Hunter by some kind of soul magic, she knew – it fed into the background magic that was in her body and so was able to read her emotions and mental commands.
Do the thing.
But just because it could read them, didn't mean that it followed. The amulet pulsed, and Alexandra gave it a gentle swat.
I will toss you out the window. Now. For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command!
Nothing.
"For the glory of Merlin," Alexandra said through her teeth. "Daylight is mine to command!"
To her left, the glow of the Heartstone caught her eye. She felt its warmth, and the gentle pulse of its hearts, and she was one of them.
She was a Changeling, and the amulet chose her. It and the Hearstone had yet to find her as repulsive as everyone else who knew her nature, and she refused to question them. Her old doubts and fears, never too far from her heart, tried to surface and she knew they were holding her back. But she had committed to this thing; as the amulet was with her to her death and beyond, so she was with it. She had two of the most powerful magical objects in the world at her back, and she fucking refused to let herself come in the way of the responsibility she had miraculously been given.
For the Glory of Merlin, you motherfucking cockwhistle, Daylight is mine to command!
Blue balls of magic soared out of the amulet and vanished into her chest.
"What the fu-"
A swirling sphere of magic lifted her off the floor, pulsing with her heartbeat. Armor materialized around her and she felt it, felt every piece, every carving, every joint.
Then everything collapsed, and she crashed back onto the floor and stumbled onto her hands.
It was enormous! How the fuck was she…
…Oh. It shrank. She should have thought of that.
The armor fitted itself to her body, making extra gauntlets for her second pair of arms. Everything fit perfectly; she found out with a few stretches that it was not restrictive, and it seemed to move with her, expanding and shrinking with every breath and twist. As she flexed her hands more glowing balls shot into them, and then a sword so heavy it sprained her wrist appeared in her hand. Alexandra dropped the sword and it collapsed in on itself until she could pick it up with minimal strain.
She juggled the sword between her remaining hands for a little bit and paused when she saw her reflection. Brightened by the light of the Heartstone, her face glowed with triumph, and she briefly allowed her eyes to shine as she grinned at her reflection.
Fuck, yes!
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I just want to say that I have nothing against New Jersey. I've only ever been to Newark airport tbh, but the show itself stated NJ to be a 'strange and exotic realm' so I'm going to chalk everyone going along with Alex's abnormalities as thinking that anything from NJ is weird.
I like Vendel's style. He's totally a crank with people who annoy him, but look at him with AAARRRGGGHH. He's gentle and understanding, and he's the same with Barbara and with Claire, once Claire charms him with Trollish. He's also rather pragmatic – he helps Jim even when he disagrees with him, simply because he would rather have Jim succeed at something Vendel doesn't agree with than see him fail and get people hurt.
Alexandra had quite the time of it in the 60's and 70's, the highlights of which were spending a year and a half in a drug-induced haze, sleeping under a bus with a guy's dick in her face (literally. Half the company were nudists.), and living in troll form in the sewers of a city she can't remember the name of because she was too busy going cold-turkey from several kinds of psychedelics. She has vague memories of showing her troll form to a few people, and she may have bitten a guy at a protest, but they were all too high to think it was anything other than the magic mushrooms.
She's stayed in human form for safety and convenience for a long time, and we'll have to give her some time to re-learn how to troll. She's not used to using her second pair of arms or eyes much, and will need to learn how to master her own body just as she learns to master the armor.
Have I mentioned that I love it that the first Trollhunter, who kicked Gunmar's ass, and the one trolls seem to base as the highest standard of Trollhunter, was female?