Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 27th October 2021

They parted ways; Claire peeling off first to head back home. Toby had to leave Jim at the steps to his house and go home for dinner. Douxie and Archie alone followed Jim inside.

He didn't want to be angry. He didn't want it simmering in him, stewing. He hated feeling like this. But there it was, nonetheless, bubbling up like it had for his enemies.

But Douxie wasn't his enemy, so why couldn't Jim stop feeling this way?

Jim stalked the way to his kitchen, hoping that maybe being in a space that was his would help him cool down. That maybe he could take his feelings out on making something, and not spill them over onto his friend.

But Douxie followed him, looking lost, like he didn't understand what he'd done.

Which was confirmed once the wizard opened his mouth. "Jim, I don't understand what I've done that's upset you."

Jim stared at him.

"You were happy enough with the books-"

"Before we found out they cost three years of your life, Douxie!" Jim exploded.

The wizard shrugged. "It's just time. And I like working in the bookshop."

"Getting me, getting any of us, a stupid book is not worth a year of your life!"

Douxie's expression hardened slightly. "It's my time to give. And you need to learn the things in that book. You know this."

"It's too much. You can't just-! You-! Argh!" Jim buried his hands in his head and spun, frustrated, unable to find the words to explain to Douxie how it was too much, too big a cost.

"Jim. Do you think anything like that comes cheap?" asked Douxie. "One of the reasons master wizards are rarer than plutonium is because of the sheer cost of resources to train one. Everything magic is completely artisanal and handmade. For all that Zoe's been involved with trying to get a 'magic Wikipedia' up and running... the truth is, we're a small, secretive group that doesn't trust outsiders easily, and passes on our hard-won knowledge person to person. I was lucky beyond belief, first with Archie, then with Merlin. Short of a millionaire's child discovering they have magic and being completely supported by their parent? No one ever gets to reach their full potential." His expression turned pleading. "And you, and Toby, and Claire... I need you all to be able to reach yours. It's important."

"Because of the future," Jim bit out.

"Because you're my friends."

"Because you think I'm some kind of king, because I have Excalibur." Jim felt tears of anger, of frustration, burning at his eyes. "I'm not, Douxie! I'm just me. And maybe I'm an okay Trollhunter, but that's all I am! I'm not your king. I'm not anyone's king. And I never will be. You can't do these kind of things for me."

Douxie was silent for a moment, then he swallowed and nodded. "As you wish, Jim," he said quietly, and turned to go.

Jim waited as he heard Douxie's footsteps go up the stairs. He waited as he heard the older boy's bedroom door close - not a slam, but a soft, barely audible click of the latch.

He waited, stomach churning with all kinds of feeling he could barely name - anger, upset, frustration.

Guilt.

Because there had been genuine hurt in Douxie's eyes.

But Douxie just couldn't go and sell his life to get stupid books for people, and then not even mention what they were worth.

I'm not worth a year of his life, Jim thought angrily, and turned away to the stove.

Douxie didn't come down for dinner.

And he was gone before Jim even got up the next morning. Wednesdays were the wizard's remaining long day - a morning shift at the bookshop, followed by band practice, followed by an evening closing shift at the cafe. Jim didn't expect to see him that day, and given how the argument still churned low and sticky in his stomach when he thought about it, it was maybe for the best.

But then Douxie avoided him the next day. And the next. Leaving before Jim woke up, and not coming back until after he was asleep. Even the lunch bags Jim left for him in the fridge were untouched.

It wasn't until late Friday evening, when Jim was wrestling with his algebra homework, wanting to get it done so he could have the weekend free, that he got any sign of life, when Archie showed up in his bedroom window.

"I hope you're happy," were the dragon's first words.

"What?"

"Douxie's finally asleep," Archie reported. "Hopefully this time it will stick. I haven't been able to get him to take more than an hour's nap over the last three days."

"What?" Jim repeated himself, trying to make sense of the dragon's words.

Gold eyes narrowed. "You haven't even noticed he hasn't come back."

"No! I thought he was avoiding me," Jim floundered. "Wait, what do you mean he hasn't come back?"

"Douxie has spent the last three days in Blinky's library and the back reading room of the bookstore when he hasn't had any other commitments," Archie reported. "He's quizzed me up and down on everything I know about transformation magic, and in general been quite manic, trying to find the solution he thinks might win back your good graces."

"My... good graces?" Jim was trying, and failing, to understand what Archie was saying.

The cat sat down on his desk and fixed him with a stare. "Good heavens, you're dense," he editorialized. "You rejected him, the gift he'd given you, and shattered his hopes of you being a king he might follow, all on the same day that Merlin effectively threatened to seal him away for no longer being a good, malleable apprentice."

Jim went cold. "What?" he whispered. Then he was up and out of his seat, tearing open the door to Douxie's room.

Douxie's empty room, he realized. The bed was neatly made, unslept-in. The wizard's guitar, and its case and stand, were missing. He didn't bother to check its drawers, but the comb and toothbrush Douxie routinely left on top of the dresser were both gone, a sure sign the wizard was as well. "He's gone?"

"Quite," Archie agreed from by his ankles. He leapt up onto the dresser and regarded Jim as Jim turned around in the room, looking for a sign, any sign, that Douxie hadn't left, and coming up empty.

Jim finally looked up at Archie. "How do I fix this?"

"How should I know?" Archie washed one paw over his ear. "I'm just a dragon."

"Archie, please."

"Oh, very well. But only for Douxie's sake, you understand. Sit down."

Jim nodded, and sat down on the bed, ready to listen.

"Douxie is quite right about the cost of training a wizard, let alone a master wizard," Archie started. "But what you need to understand is that he was raised in a time when coin of the realm was a luxury commodity, and barter a perfectly valid means of payment. For instance, his training by Merlin was very much in that vein - Merlin gave him food and shelter, the clothing on his back, and an education. In exchange, Douxie has given him nine centuries of service."

"What," Jim whispered again, never having thought about Douxie's job of "protecting the realm" as being anything other than something the wizard just did.

"Oh, yes," Archie told him. "That's not entirely what it is, not anymore, but if you don't think he's still working off that list of instructions Merlin left him at the fall of Camelot, you haven't been paying attention."

Jim had the very bad feeling he hadn't been paying attention. Or that he had, but hadn't even known what he was looking at.

"I don't know what's in that book that scared Merlin so, but as Douxie's master, he's quite within his rights to seal him away, just like Morgana, if he feels that Douxie is a clear and present danger to the realm. And Merlin is... quite rigid in his approach to many things," Archie said, tail twitching in clear distaste. "It is even possible that I'm the only thing keeping Merlin from having already done that. Because if Merlin sealed Douxie away from me, I would kill him. And if Merlin managed to seal us both away, well... it might take some time, but I'm fairly certain that once my father found out about it, it would first break their bonds of friendship, and then Dad would kill Merlin. So it's a delicate balance, politically."

"Politically," Jim repeated numbly.

"As to the damage you've done, you've firstly rejected the gift he gave you, secondly rejected his own judgment of how much you and your friends are worth to him, and thirdly, rejected his firm belief that you were someone he could give his loyalty to."

"I'm not-" Jim started, but was quelled by a golden gaze.

"As much as he's learned and grown beyond Merlin's teachings, Douxie's understanding of himself as a wizard was still formed by them," Archie said severely. "And part of that is the bone-deep belief that he should aspire to serve a king, to work in tandem with him - or her, I suppose - to protect the world. He thought he'd found that in you, and you threw that in his face." His expression was scathing.

"I... didn't mean to," Jim floundered.

"Of course you didn't," Archie said. "And, believe me, Douxie's getting his own lecture, once he's in a rational state of mind again."

Jim winced.

The dragon sighed. "For all that the two of you seem very similar in some ways, you come from vastly different cultures, and vastly different mindsets. Something else you need to understand is, Douxie's relationship to money is extremely idiosyncratic. He values it only so far as it can be used to procure the things he needs to survive. He's never had a 'nest egg', nor even expressed the slightest bit of curiosity about my hoard. Money, wealth, just doesn't mean much to him. The dollar amount attached to those books was never a concern for him."

"But a year," Jim protested.

"He's had over nine hundred years," Archie said. "Time doesn't have the same meaning for him as it does for someone like you, who's experienced less than two decades. And, I might point out, in exchanging his time for those books, he was doing directly as you'd said - putting down roots. He's hardly going to up and leave while he still owes Mister Del Toro time."

Jim's feeling of guilt deepened.

"Have you ever heard of 'love languages'?" asked the dragon, tone turning softer.

Jim shook his head.

"Put simply, they're the different ways in which people give - and prefer to receive - love. Most people aren't stuck on just one, of course, but they do gravitate toward some over others. Douxie," said Archie, "exhibits all of them. He shows his love by devotions of time and energy, of physical affection when allowed, and by acts of service. He gives meaningful gifts when he's able to," he said, nodding at the crystal pendant Jim still wore, "and he's not shy of speaking of his feelings." He looked at Jim, waiting.

"Which means... what?" asked Jim.

"He trusts you more than I believe I've ever seen him trust anyone," Archie said. "He has shown his tattoos to exactly one person before. And she, I should note, laughed at him. He was certainly never going to show them to Merlin. Taking a charitable view, I think you feel he gave you those books out of some chivalric sense of obligation," said Archie. "That he entered into indentured servitude out of duty."

Jim nodded slowly, waiting to hear where Archie thought he was wrong.

"But I look at that gift, at his spending his time and social capital in order to give you knowledge you dearly need, and all I can see is his love for the three of you, who are the brightest hope he's had in centuries," said Archie, and left.

Hisirdoux woke to his phone's alarm, feeling dull and sodden and stupid. His entire body, and especially his heart, felt like lead - heavy and useless.

The feeling possibly stemmed from how little sleep he'd gotten over the past several days. There were also other causes, but thinking about those felt like a knife in his chest.

At least he'd found some good leads in his research, making the sleeplessness worth it; he thought his idea could work. All he needed was the proper materials (how to obtain them? he still needed to figure that out) and the opportunity to test the theory.

Which led back to the thought of Jim, and Hisirdoux resolutely turned away from that.

"You're an idiot, you know," Archie said softly.

"This is not news," Hisirdoux replied, closing his eyes and forcing himself to sit up. He really didn't feel like opening the shop and dealing with customers for the next half-dozen hours, but he had a debt to repay (not thinking about that either, he decided), and band practice this afternoon. Hopefully he'd feel less draggy by then, because "numb" was not an emotional state conducive to good music. And Zoe'd kill him if he flaked.

"Jim didn't mean it the way you've taken it," Archie continued.

"I know." Hisirdoux managed a wan smile for his familiar. "Doesn't stop it from hurting."

"Douxie..." Archie pressed up against him, rubbing his head against Hisirdoux's arm. He let his embrace fall around the dragon, taking crumbs of comfort where he could.

He had his notes, and Archie knew what he had been working on. Even if Merlin should come back today, Jim would be able to choose his own path. That alone would be worth Hisirdoux's red-eyed nights. He hadn't failed. Not in this.

"Eat something," Archie urged. Sighing, Hisirdoux obeyed, not out of any feeling of hunger, but out of the knowledge that Archie was right.

He knew intellectually that he was likely in a depressive fugue. That knowledge, however, did nothing to shift him out of it.

"Are you all right?" Archie asked him as he prepped a packet of instant oatmeal, one laborious step at a time.

"'Gray day'," recited Hisirdoux quietly. "'Everything is gray. I watch. But nothing moves today'."

"Oh, Douxie."

"It'll pass," he said. "It always does. Eventually."

Archie sighed and closed his eyes as Hisirdoux started eating his breakfast. The dragon, he thought, not for the first time, was lucky. He didn't have rollercoaster human brain chemicals. Maybe that was a dragon thing. Maybe it was an Archibald thing. Regardless, Archie was his rock, and Hisirdoux wouldn't be able to get through anything without him.

"I spoke with Jim last night," Archie said, and Hisirdoux stopped, spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Oh?" he asked eventually.

"He really didn't know what any of it meant," said Archie. "He especially didn't know what it meant to you."

Hisirdoux lowered his bowl, suddenly unable to stomach another bite. "Of course he didn't," he said, feeling numb. "It's fine, Arch. Really it is."

"Please don't lie to me, Douxie."

"I'm not lying," he said. "I just... can't feel much of anything right now." He tried to smile at his familiar and failed. He needed to keep moving nonetheless. He needed to open the bookstore and smile and chat and flirt and sell books.

He'd sleep tonight, he thought. After band practice. There were no more weekend shifts at Benoit's. Maybe he'd sleep forever.

"He didn't know you'd moved out."

"I didn't," Hisirdoux protested. "I just... took a few things to get some space for a few days."

"You left clothing," said Archie. "That's not the same as intending to go back."

He deflated. "Yeah, I know."

"You didn't tell Barbara."

Hisirdoux closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. "Can... you not do this right now, Arch? I need to open the shop."

"Douxie..." His familiar's voice was compassionate. "At least finish your breakfast."

He looked at it, at the congealed oatmeal in the cheap secondhand bowl, and genuinely thought he might throw up if he tried to force the rest of it down. "I can't," Hisirdoux said quietly, and set the bowl down on the counter. "Maybe I'll have it for lunch." Which was a lie, and they both knew it. But at least Archie didn't protest when he zipped up his hoodie against the dull cold that wasn't physical, and headed out into the store for a day of pretending to be cheerful.

Pretending to be anything but what he was.

Jim waited across the street from the bookshop. He knew Douxie's schedule, knew when he should be getting off his shift. Knew he had band practice after, with practically no time between the two. And sure enough, it was barely five minutes past the hour when Douxie exited the store, his guitar case slung over one shoulder, Archie at his heels.

The dragon spotted Jim first, jumped up on Douxie's shoulder, murmured something into his ear, then jumped down again.

Douxie looked over and saw Jim. His shoulders slumped and a look of resignation crossed his face. Nonetheless, he crossed the street, Archie by his side.

Jim stood up from the park bench he'd been sitting on as Douxie approached.

"Hello, Jim," the wizard said. He sounded tired.

"Hi," said Jim. "Um." All the things he thought he should say had suddenly fallen out of his head.

"Look, I've got practice," Douxie said wearily. "Can we do this later? Maybe tomorrow?"

"Not unless you come home for dinner tonight."

"Jim..."

"Come home," Jim insisted. "Look, what I said was, well, not stupid, but I wasn't taking your point of view into account. So can you please come home and we can talk it out?"

Douxie's eyes closed. "I cannot..." He breathed out and opened his eyes again. "Jim. Tomorrow. Please."

Jim was taken aback. "Doux, what's wrong?"

"Bad mental health day," Archie said softly.

Jim looked at Douxie, really looked. He was not happy with what he saw. The dark circles that had begun to fade from under the wizard's eyes were back in force, and he just looked so tired. And simultaneously like a too-forceful breeze might knock him over. Like he was fragile.

Jim's jaw set.

"You're coming home tonight," he told Douxie, and overrode whatever he was going to say next. "You're eating a real dinner, and sleeping in a real bed, and I'm not going to push you about anything tonight. But you're coming home."

"Jim-"

Jim crossed his arms. "Do it, or I get my mom involved."

Douxie swayed just a little, but ultimately submitted, slumping, his eyes closing. "Fine," he murmured.

Jim pointed at Archie. "You're in charge of him."

"You say that like I have any hope of influencing his decisions," said the dragon.

"And you say that like anyone else stands a shot," Jim retorted. "Have him home by dinner, or I sic Mom on you, too."

The dragon's eyes widened.

"Jim..."

He hugged Douxie, who stiffened. "I'm sorry I hurt you," Jim said into his shoulder. "And I still don't get how you don't see the problems I do with what you did, but just because we argue doesn't mean you get to go running off and hiding. Archie's the cat, not you."

After a moment, Douxie relaxed, just a fraction, and his arm went around Jim. "Sorry," he breathed.

Jim tightened his embrace, so that Douxie would feel it, then let go. "I'll see you guys for dinner, okay?"

"Yeah," said Douxie, his eyes a little wetter than before. Jim really hoped he hadn't made Douxie about to cry, because falling apart was probably the last thing the wizard needed right now. But Douxie swallowed, straightened, and smiled. It barely counted as a smile, but at least it was an attempt. "We'll see you at dinner." Then he turned, and left for his band practice.

Author's Note: Douxie quotes from Dr. Seuss's My Many Colored Days.