Barbara came back from her meeting with Bular totally drained, sore, and beaten. Her brother certainly hadn't held back during their spar. Though perhaps, he simply had no idea how - in the society they both had grown up in, you wouldn't survive for long unless you put everything you had into the living for another day.
When the daughter of Gunmar turned into the human form, she had noticed a lot of fresh bruises. Luckily, all of those could be hidden with clothes. It would be a major headache even to attempt explaining those to co-workers and acquaintances. Well, at least there were no more severe injuries.
She wasn't going to complain in any case. Barbara just had to be way stronger, and some beating wasn't such a heavy price to pay for that.
It was still early morning, and she had a free day from work, so the woman threaded softly through her house, checking if everything was alright. As expected, Jim was fast asleep, smiling slightly at some sweet dream and blissfully unaware of all the stuff happening at night. For how long would his mother be able to protect that innocence?
Barbara sighed heavily, taking a seat on the windowsill and watching her son's sleep. The talk with Bular had brought back some rather god-awful memories about her last husband.
She wasn't lying when she told about killing him, even the reason was the partial truth. Though no, it wasn't - the woman hadn't cared about keeping her secret that much...
Sometimes, it felt as if getting involved with James Lake - still not Senior back then - was a huge mistake to start with. That choice had always felt like the one Barverra would have made back when she still had troubles navigating human society.
With James, everything had been just too random, a constant streak of some ridiculous consequences. To start with, Barbara hadn't been looking for a life partner at that time, enjoying the period when she could be alone and not watching every single of her actions. Her life partner before that had been so overbearing, basically suffocating her, that the daughter of Gunmar had run away from him. So was it that illogical that she had been earning for some break?
And then one of her acquaintances just had to drag Barbara along for some kind of stupid blind double date. James was one of those guys. The funny thing was that her friend was supposed to be his partner, yet the redhead had somehow stolen the spotlight. It hadn't mattered for her in any case - it had to end with only one date. James had been the person with too many connections, be it his multiple friends or the huge extended family. That alone had excluded him from possible candidates for a temporal life partner.
Perhaps, James had been unwittingly heading to his own doom from the very start. Why he had to be that persistent? It was more like an obsession than anything healthy - to the point of getting in a fight with most of his friends and the entire family.
Well, her last husband had been obviously obsessed, and it was a good excuse for all his actions. The main question had always been why Barbara had played along agreeing to his proposal in the end. She had never even liked James that much. He had been a fantastic cook and a nice guy, but that had been all to him.
Unimpressive, trivial, boring, most likely, forgettable in the future - her opinion about him had never been that kind. The man might have gotten some points when he had taken his wife to Arcadia to settle down and basically start life anew. Even the jaded daughter of Gunmar had some respect for that level of decisions. However, that had been the end to his redeeming traits. Without any doubt, it should have been just another ten years period of life, yet...
James had always dreamed about having kids. Not that he had been the first of her husbands with that wish, but it somehow had felt the most awkward with him as he tended to discuss it non-stop. Barbara, on the other hand, hadn't expected anything. Well, apparently there had been some 'minuscule chance', but if that had never happened so far, why would it have been that different in the future?
The woman had been so engrossed in the denial, that she had actually managed to miss the first signs of her own pregnancy. James had been the one to suggest hopefully that nausea could be morning sickness.
There had been no way for it to be true.
Simply impossible.
Preposterous even to think about the possibility.
The daughter of Gunmar simply couldn't have brought into this world some kind of creature in-between.
Of course, it had to be some kind of misunderstanding. There had been so many reasons for her body acting like that.
Yet…
It hadn't been a mistake or jumping to conclusions. Four different pregnancy tests had shown her the same unwanted result.
It was probably the greatest dishonor in her life, but Barbara hadn't become a wonderful mother instantly. No, quite the contrary, even if it was for few days, she still had thought of the child inside her as an abomination and wretched creature and even had considered getting rid of 'that thing'.
No matter how many years would pass, that one would always remain the biggest sin of hers, something the woman felt was impossible to repent for. The daughter of Gunmar was grateful to whatever higher power that had prevented her from committing such an unforgivable mistake.
The disgust, anxiety, and even fear had turned out to be just a brief stage. As all the initial panic had faded, Barbara actually had felt some interest. After all, troll whelps came into the world differently, hatching from the birthstones. Having an actual new life inside her had been so weird. It had been as if the woman had turned into some kind of a shield for her baby. Had it been good? Bad? Terrible?
The daughter of Gunmar had been so lost back then.
Ironically, James had come to love his offspring way earlier. His excitement had been tremendous as he had been planning the nursery or talking about possible names.
"If it's a boy, let's name him James Junior," that was simply just another one of his ideas and, perhaps, the one the mother liked the least. Trolls always put a lot of thought into choosing the name for their offspring. It was always either the one that belonged to someone they greatly respected or the one with special meaning.
Naming a whelp after themselves sounded truly arrogant and even absurd.
"And how will we distinguish you two then?" she asked, barely hiding skepticism.
A part of Barbara whispered to her to pick the name herself, yet she had silenced the thought at once. It had been still too difficult to see that baby as a person, even if the daughter of Gunmar hadn't been disgusted by the creature anymore.
"Well, we can have some nickname for the small guy," James obviously hadn't planned to give up on his idea. If anything, he seemingly had liked it even more after some consideration. "Like Junior, or Jay, or Jim, or..."
"Jim," Barbara repeated as if trying the sound of the name. It had a nice ring, that was for sure.
Surprisingly, she had decided on that name back then. There had been no way to tell that her child was a boy, yet it had been as if the woman had known for sure that it was her son.
Her son.
Not an abomination, not a creature.
Jim.
The love for her son had been a tiny seed swiftly growing and blooming into the entire universe. That had been a weird feeling of tremendous attachment and protectiveness, something Barbara had never experienced before and something she might have never felt once again.
And then fear, panic, and anxiety had returned, though the reasons causing those were so different.
What if her baby would have been born looking inhuman? Ultrasound had suggested nothing like that, but could it have been trusted? The pregnant woman had been on the verge of escaping and giving birth as far from humans as possible. Had it been simply because of hormones influencing the human body or something else? The answer had been such a mystery, but the daughter of Gunmar simply couldn't have cared less.
The only thing she had known for sure was her willingness to start the war against entire humankind if it would have meant keeping her child safe...
Barbara had always felt that Destiny enjoyed playing with her a lot. Quite often, it just kept throwing her some crazy turns, complicating her life to the extreme. On the other hand, it had been surprisingly kind to her when it was truly needed. Otherwise, how was it possible to explain that despite all the worries and fears, Jim had been born as a human, and no one had gotten any suspicions of him being different from other babies?
He had been such a small and fragile existence back then, and holding him surely had felt so odd. No, of course, Barbara had seen a lot of other human newborns during her life among fleshbags, and well, even had gotten more than enough experience while helping during delivery, yet it had been the first time when she held a toddler so carefully, genuinely scared to harm him unwittingly.
The day Jim had been born, Barbara had made an oath to protect him with everything she got, never minding any consequences or complications. She wished her son could have as many peaceful years as possible, yet the woman always remembered what Tabitha had told her about half-trolls. Jim was obviously belonging to the category of those born as a human, but that only meant he would turn trollish at some point. Well, at least Barbara was a doctor, so she was confident in her skill to notice any irregularities early enough.
She would have never imagined that her initial relief had been premature. Jim may have been a human physically, but his true nature was still lurking just below the surface, revealing itself occasionally. The baby had certainly inherited some troll instincts, which he had no use for. And as her son had been still so small, he had shown those openly.
The first one Barbara had noticed was an obvious dislike for direct sunlight. Jim had grown restless and often cried the moment he ended under some rays. Initially, the mother had actually freaked out. What if the daylight could possibly have been harmful to her son? Fortunately, it hadn't been the case. Her child had just inherited a troll protective inborn mechanism, which was basically useless to him. It had faded away before Jim had turned two, and he most likely didn't even remember that.
The preference for darkness, however, had lingered for way longer. Her son had never demonstrated any fear of the dark, moreover, after he had learned to crawl, the toddler often tended to end in the places without any lighting and even fall asleep there. Barbara wouldn't have ever found it weird, but James had always been quite upset after stumbling upon his child napping under the bed, in the closet, or even in the basement.
And, of course, there had been that entire matter with first teeth. The order of their appearance had certainly been such a mess as Jim had gotten lower and then upper canines before any incisors. Luckily, it had turned out to be a fake alarm - those were nowhere close to actual troll teeth, be it in form or sturdiness.
Nevertheless, despite all of those oddities, the three of them had been not that different from a regular family. Outside of some uncanny tendencies, Jim had been just a normal kid, basically indistinguishable from his peers. Barbara had adjusted perfectly to her new mother as it had been the first genuine thing for her in years. James Sr. had also been happy to be a father and tried his best at raising his son.
Yes, everything had been so peaceful at first, before everything had collapsed like a house of cards. In the end, all that serenity had been simply an illusion.
In hindsight, Barbara couldn't help wondering if it had been partially her fault - she should have noticed the danger way earlier and be more cautious. Perhaps, it would have been possible to cover more. Or at least, to kick out James before the disaster.
The woman had screwed for the first time during her attempt to calm down her crying son soon after his birth. No, Barbara had a good understanding that human mothers sang lullabies to put their offspring to sleep; she just had known none herself. After all, trolls didn't have any songs like that as they calmed their whelps using soft rumbling or purring. The daughter of Gunmar had wondered for a second if it was even possible to produce that kind of sound with human vocal cords and had decided against it at once. There had been no need for an embarrassment.
So instead, she tried to sing a troll battle song. Surprisingly enough, it had worked, probably because of the proper amount of reverberating sounds. Jim had dozed off at once, snuggling closer to his mother's chest.
Unfortunately, James just had happened to enter in the middle of the song. To give him some credit, her husband hadn't raised hell right away, most likely being conscious of the sleeping baby, but he would have never ignored what he had heard.
"What was that?" he inquired in a furious whisper once Barbara had put Jim down into his cradle and tiptoed out of the nursery.
"A lullaby?" the woman tried to fake a genuine confusion. "A foreign one, I've learned it from a co-worker. Isn't it sounding nice?"
Alas, James hadn't been satisfied with that kind of explanation.
"What kind of language is that? It gave me legit shivers... No idea what it even meant, but why the hell it felt as if it was about a massacre or something..."
To be honest, that statement hadn't been that far from the truth. That had been the battle song, after all, and of course, it contained quite a graphic depiction of beheadings and torn-off limbs. Well, her husband definitely had no need to learn all of that.
"It's just a lullaby, dear," Barbara smiled innocently, hoping he would drop the matter altogether. "Besides, don't you think, it's quite rude to badmouth other languages simply because they sound different?"
It hadn't worked as the man had been huffing for a while. She had managed to diffuse the situation only after promising to sing English lullabies...
But had that been enough back then? Sometimes, the woman couldn't get rid of a feeling that the ugly seed of suspicion had been planted back then.
All small mishaps and rare unusual tendencies aside, Jim's growth had been quite normal. Barbara started to think that they would manage to go through his childhood without any serious incidents. Right now, the future had become really undecided. With her son taken into account, she seriously doubted it would be possible to continue with her typical lifestyle. It was one thing to be on the constant move alone, but dragging along a child?
The only relief was her son not aging like a troll whelp, as that would have meant either non-stop moving to prevent any suspicions or abandoning the human lifestyle altogether. Maybe there could be some crazy third option, but the daughter of Gunmar could only see those two.
With that kind of worry, the mother somehow missed her husband growing wary and probably even paranoid. James used to be a loving father to his son, but as time was passing, there were more and more complaints.
"Barbara, Jim was hiding in the basement again".
"Barbara, Jim bit some boy at his preschool".
"Barbs, don't you think our son is weird?"
There were others as well, so many that she had already forgotten most of them. Those kept snowballing, no matter how much the mother tried to find an excuse or turn everything into a joke. It simply couldn't last forever without exploding, and eventually, the storm broke down.
It started with another fight at the preschool, the one that went too far. Barbara was pissed with the entire situation and staff specifically. Why all the adults were blaming her son only, claiming that he needed some specialized help, that he was too violent, too aggressive to be around other children?
How couldn't they see that Jim was a kind and friendly boy? He'd never start a fight unless something extraordinary had happened. And the mother's hunch turned out one hundred percent true - some other kids had ganged on her son for some reason, yet everyone ignored the fact.
The problem was Jim fighting back furiously like a cornered animal, biting and scratching, and definitely scaring all other children, not simply his bullies. Not to mention that he had refused to stop even when adults intervened to the point of biting one of them.
Obviously, those were her son's troll instincts kicking into the action. The one at fault could be only the preschool staff that had neglected their responsibilities and allowed the situation to happen.
Not to mention that Jim, without doubt, was the most scared and confused out of everybody. The mother felt that in his trembling hand clutching into the hem of her sweater, in his terrified eyes, in his unnatural silence as they were driving back home.
It really broke her heart, bringing some god-awful flashbacks of her own childhood. As a whelp, before even learning a thing about the world, Barverra used to fight a lot, both against some of her siblings and other Gumm-Gumm young ones. Gunmar had never bothered to stop that, no, he had been actually encouraging such kind of rivalry. It was all about survival of the fittest, and centuries ago, the Herald of Doom would never have had an idea of raising her own offspring differently. Yet now, glancing over at distressed Jim, the mother knew for sure that she would never dare to condemn her dear child to that kind of fate even if all the trolls in the world were forcing her to.
The boy had definitely felt her forlorn gaze and hunched as if expecting some scolding.
"I didn't want..." he mumbled with a barely hidden fear in his voice. "I wanted to stop, but..."
"It's not your fault, sweetie," the mother interrupted him as gently as possible, her heart aching at sight. If she wasn't driving, she would have given him a comforting hug already. "We all get angry sometimes. It's natural."
Well, troll level fury definitely counted as unnatural, but it wasn't her son's fault in any case.
"Will you leave me?" Jim's voice was barely audible. The question had caught her by surprise.
"Why should I?" Barbara forced a light chuckle, hoping that it would chase away that totally uncalled and illogical fear.
"Because I'm bad and fight with other kids and…"
Who? Who was the bastard giving her child that outlandish idea?
The mother hit the brakes, stopping her car in the most inappropriate place - but was it that important at the moment? The only thing that mattered was her son needing comfort, and everything else could go to hell.
"I'll never leave you..." the mother pulled the boy into the tight hug. "Even if it means fighting the entire world. I'll always be on your side..."
Those words were the promise, both to him and to herself. If anyone ever dared to attempt severing their bond, they would learn firsthand why the daughter of Gunmar had earned the title of the Herald of Doom.
Jim hiccupped, blinking furiously and fighting the tears, and then just gave up, sobbing against her chest. Was he hiding the anxiety and fear all the time?
The next, slightly muffled question turned out to be even more shocking.
"Will... Daddy leave me?"
An ugly suspicion crept its way inside her mind.
No, it couldn't be true. Not him.
"Sweetie, your Daddy loves you greatly as well," the woman ran her hand through Jim's hair affectionately. "Why would he even think about leaving you?"
That should have been enough to calm down the kid at least temporarily. When they were back at home, James could confirm her statement, and all the fears would fade into oblivion. After all, despite all the suspicions and complaints, her husband still loved his son, even though he would most likely prefer to correct the weird behavior and...
"Daddy doesn't love me anymore," the sudden response broke Barbara's reverie. It took her a while to fully process the meaning of it. "He doesn't play with me anymore, he doesn't let me sit on his lap, he doesn't read me funny stories and... and..."
Jim was not able to finish, breaking into tears once again. The mother felt an actual fury rising in her chest. How had James dared to treat their son like that? And for what? For his unusual habits or actions?
It also sounded as if it hadn't started yesterday. Was her little boy suffering silently, scared that his mother would also become distant if he ever complained? Barbara wasn't going to let it be, that was for sure.
She was surprised at herself for having the patience to wait until the night before starting the conversation with James. After all, the woman was basically boiling inside, and every memory of Jim's breakdown kept adding fuel to that raging inferno. The only reason Barbara delayed the moment was her desire to keep her son away from all of that. The poor boy had already gotten enough stress for several years. Still, bottling emotions definitely did no good - instead of starting the talk civilly, the redhead basically hissed at her husband:
"What the hell are you doing? Don't you think your attitude hurts our son? Are you even aware that Jim is scared? He genuinely believes that you'll abandon him!"
She half-expected an apology or at least an excuse for that kind of behavior, but the actual answer left her speechless.
"Is he?"
It was short, yet mercilessly cold and indifferent. The tone alone made Barbara forget about anger for a second.
"What do you mean?" she asked demandingly, her voice turning ice-cold as well.
"He can easily manipulate your feelings, you know. What has he used? Adorable puppy eyes? Pouting? Clinging? Fake declaration of love and hugs? Or perhaps, crocodile tears? 'Oh, Mommy, Daddy doesn't love me anymore'? Was it that one? Everything to make you pity him," James continued, with some venom in his tone.
The fury came back at once, multiplying several times immediately. The daughter of Gunmar wasn't even aware it was possible to make her that mad with words only. She clenched her teeth and spat:
"Jim isn't even five if you've forgotten! How dare you to suggest that?"
"Do you still cling to the delusion that he is a normal child?" the man glared back at her angrily. "Wake up, Barbs! His inhumanity is blatant by this point! Do you know what his last babysitter told me? He bit her hard enough to draw the blood and growled! Growled, Barbara! How can you defend him after that?"
Everything just kept spiraling out of control. She had been too careless while assuming that James's parental attachment was stronger than his suspicions. Yet now, his wording suggested that the man had only seen someone inhuman by this point.
"Even if that was true and not that wench's made-up story, I'd prefer to learn first what the hell she had done to provoke Jim like that!" Barbara hissed defensibly.
It had to be true as it fell in line with all other trollish tendencies. It had been just another one at the most inconvenient moment. That was a regular defensive attitude for tiniest whelps, so the babysitter wasn't as innocent as she tried to claim. That wench had been actually extremely lucky that Jim's teeth were far from the actual troll ones as she would have missed a good chunk of flesh otherwise. Barbara had seen too many trolls who used to underestimate whelp's jaws capabilities and ended with embarrassing kinds of scars or missing fingers.
"Provoked or not, that wasn't normal!" James stood his ground stubbornly.
Barbara exploded:
"You know, what's not normal? It's you siding with some random girl over your own flesh and blood!"
The man suddenly slumped, and for the second Barbara thought she had won the argument. Oh, how much she had mistaken! Apparently, it had been just the beginning.
"I cannot blame you, Barbs..." her husband said quietly. "You simply haven't seen what I have... I just ask you to forget about your motherly feelings for a second and listen a bit. You'll understand then".
She actually wanted to retort, but something told her to stay silent as James continued:
"Back when I was a teen, my family was really friendly with our next-door neighbors."
Was he going to go through the entire story of his life? What was the point of that?
"They had a tiny daughter June, and it went without saying that I was babysitting her a lot. I didn't mind at first, I still believed that she was just a charming little angel back then..."
His possible bad experience with some babies meant nothing.
"It was before I had learned her true colors - in truth, she was a monster."
Could he get more pathetic? Maybe it was just James being horrible at babysitting. Barbara didn't want to hear any more of that crap. She opened her mouth to interrupt him already and froze as the tale suddenly reached quite a twist.
"No, not figural one, she actually was bright orange and with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. I caught her chewing on remains of my family's cat, and that thing just jeered telling me that no one would ever believe me..."
Barbara felt her heart stopping. The man's voice sounded distant, and she barely registered anything he was telling after that.
Why? Just why had her husband actually have an encounter with a changeling? Everyone would end suspicious towards all the babies after that. No wonder that he had been so paranoid towards his own son, especially knowing that Jim sometimes behaved out of accepted norms.
And how impures had even allowed that kind of situation? The daughter of Gunmar had always believed that those tended to cover their existence. Yet, somehow there was a living witness left alone? They were losing a grip or something.
It was not simply bad - it was a total disaster. What could be the best course of action in this situation?
She had to convince her husband that it was just his mind playing tricks.
"And what has your childhood fantasy to do with my son?" the woman asked coldly. She knew better than everyone that it wasn't the delusion, yet she had no luxury to agree with her husband, covering the mess caused by one stupid impure's mistake.
James looked really hurt. Apparently, he genuinely believed that his bizarre story would convince Barbara to change her stance.
"Barbs, I know it's not easy to digest," he started pleadingly. "But there are monsters in our world. They snatch our kids and substitute them with their own kind to infiltrate human society and..."
"What. Has. That. To do. With Jim?" Barbara repeated the question. Her eyes were wandering through surroundings until ending on a kitchen knife. Yes, that could be the action solving all the problems.
Why should she, the Herald of Doom, have resorted to any peaceful methods? Pitying the fleshbag only because he had given her the biggest treasure of her life? Well, such mercy could put her son in danger, so was it even worth it?
"I know, it'll be difficult to accept... But, Barbara, don't let your mother's instincts cloud your judgment..."
James's voice had turned into the background noise by this point. She knew what he was going to tell and there was no way she would ever forgive those words. The woman started moving towards the knife, pretending that she was going to make herself some coffee.
She had to act fast and stealthy.
Not to cause too much noise.
Not to wake up Jim.
Just dispose of the fleshbag swiftly, then hide the body.
And flee - to start somewhere anew, somewhere without paranoid people.
"I didn't want to believe at first too... Do you think it's easy to suspect your own son?"
Yet he had still suspected, letting his fear defeat his love.
Barbara's fingers tightened on the knife's handle. It would be so easy as James wasn't aware of her actions.
"But, Barbs, that thing isn't our son. That's not Jim. It's just a monster who stole his looks!" James finished angrily.
Something clanked, meeting the floor, and rolled right to Barbara's feet.
A glass.
The mother's eyes traced the direction where it had come from at once and landed at the utterly mortified boy who probably just decided to drink some water in the worst moment. It wasn't his fault that none of his parents had noticed him sneaking as they were arguing.
How long had he been there? How much had Jim heard? His pale face, trembling lips, and blue eyes full of sheer terror told the woman that most likely the answer was the 'entire conversation'.
Barbara lost the grip on the knife at once, totally forgetting about her own plan to get rid of her husband, and rushed to her son. Yet Jim stumbled back a step, avoiding his mother's embrace, his eyes still full of fear, panic, and disbelief. The next moment, he bolted out of the room, running upstairs.
The woman felt a whole storm of emotions overcoming her mind.
Worry.
Anxiety.
Fear.
Panic.
Anger.
But most importantly, there was pure hatred. She had never realized before that there hadn't been any living soul in the world who she truly hated. There were some loathed, a lot she was disgusted with, but the true hatred had always stayed away from Barbara's scope of emotions. Until now.
The daughter of Gunmar had killed many trolls and fleshbags for various reasons, but it was the first time when she actually wanted to murder someone that much. The only thing that prevented James from losing his life in the most gruesome way, was the fact that Jim was still in the close vicinity.
How could she risk her dear son possibly witnessing something that shocking shortly after being scarred for life?
It didn't mean that Barbara was going to let her good-for-nothing husband stay in the same house anymore.
"GET OUT!" she yelled, not bothering if neighbors heard that.
"Barbara," James tried to protest but shut his mouth right away, probably noticing the eerie fire in his wife's eyes.
"Get out," she repeated with a hiss. "Both out of this house and our lives! And if I ever see you near Jim, I'll make you regret being born in this world!"
The man cast a disappointed glance at her but left the house silently.
Barbara listened to the sounds of the departing car and buried her face in her hands. It had been the first time she felt that helpless. Not even the aftermath of that accursed Killahead bridge battle had brought such desperation. Yes, she still could take away her husband's life, but that wouldn't help to save the situation at all. It would be just an act of revenge. Jim had already heard too much. Could that be ever fixed?
With a heavy heart, the mother went upstairs, having no idea what to tell her son. A knock to his room's door got no answer, only some muffled sobbing. Worried sick, Barbara entered the room in a hurry.
She didn't see her boy right away - it took a few painful seconds to realize that he was hiding under the bed. In the time of distress, he had subconsciously ended at the place which could count as a shelter.
"Jim," the mother called him gently. "Please, come out, baby".
More sobbing was the only response she received. With a heavy sigh, Barbara got on her knees, looking under the bed. Jim was hugging his knees, trying to look as small as possible, his body trembling as if in a fever.
"Jim..." the mother called again. "Please, don't hide from me - I'm on your side".
This time it seemingly worked - the boy had crawled out reluctantly and clang to the woman at once, burying his face in her clothes. Barbara shifted her position on the floor a bit and started to rub comforting circles on his back.
"Am I a monster?" Jim's sudden question sounded surprisingly loud, even though it was just a whisper.
She didn't want to answer that. Any other question would be easier to answer.
"Don't be silly, sweetie," the mother tried to divert the conversation elsewhere.
"Am I a monster?" he repeated, obviously not going to fall for that.
"Why do you think so?" it was another attempt - anything would be good instead of the real reply.
Jim may have been just a kid, but he obviously was capable of noticing some differences between him and other children. Barbara cursed herself for discovering it too late after her son most likely had concluded that those were bad. Perhaps, they had told him so at the preschool. Or that bastard James had opened his mouth, accusing his son in inhumanity way before this night. And the recent messed-up conversation the boy had heard definitely only complicated things more.
"Daddy said so..."
"Your father simply said that without thinking. It was a stupid joke. He wasn't serious," Barbara forced a smile, mentally wincing at how pathetically fake her last words sounded.
"He was serious, he left because of that," Jim sobbed again. "Am I a monster?"
He would never calm down unless there was a proper answer. But what should she have told him? In the end, both yes and no wasn't a good option.
Barbara could always choose the answer her child would like to hear, the one that would calm him down for sure - that he wasn't a monster, that he was a human, that James made a huge mistake, but... All of that would be a lie. Jim trusted his mother wholeheartedly, so had she any right to abuse that genuine faith?
She also could choose the bitter truth - that her son was only a half-human and his other half was the very definition of monster in humanity's eyes; that he most likely would turn more inhuman as years would pass. That his father wasn't that much off about the state of things.
No, that one was simply impossible, so the answer Barbara gave was neither of those.
"You are my son".
It was a cruel response in a way, heinous in its deception. Jim obviously took it as 'no', while it meant 'yes' in reality. The daughter of Gunmar was the epitome of a 'monster' for many, both humans and trolls. Being her child would mean inheriting that stigma from the first day...