Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 17th September 2021
Vendel was in the middle of the marketplace when the gatherers returned for the day. Slaug came into the Trollmarket Square first, pulling his cart behind himself. Next came Larth. Both trolls looked equally uneasy.
"Ooh, what have you got today?" Bagdwella asked eagerly, bustling up.
Slaug smacked her hand away.
Vendel blinked. Bagdwella shrieked.
"Um, found somethin'," Slaug said. He shifted from foot to foot. He looked up. "Think it might be for you, Vendel."
"It was under the bridge," Larth said. "Right at the entrance to Trollmarket, it was. We think it was left there. No sign a' the rest."
Vendel raised an eyeridge. "Oh?" he asked, stepping forward. "Let us see this item, then."
Larth and Slaug looked at one another, both distinctly unhappy, then worked together to lift a covered item from Slaug's cart and set it on the ground before Vendel. They stepped away, clearly wanting nothing further to do with it.
Bagdwella huffed. "Well, let's see what it is," she said, and whipped the cloth covering off.
There was a collective scream, bodies recoiling as the severed stone head of Bular was revealed, empty eyes staring right at Vendel.
He felt weak in the knees. They had done it. The Trollhunter and his murderous band of miscreants had actually taken out Bular.
(And left his head where they knew it would be brought to Vendel. There was a message there, one that he would have to consider later.)
"It's... it's the Butcher," someone said.
"He's dead!" a raucous voice called. "Bular's finally dead!"
"Drinks all around!"
"Hooray for the Trollhunter!"
Staring into the dead eyes of his longtime foe, Vendel wondered whether he had miscalculated the hunters' banishment.
"All right, class," Coach Lawrence said, coming into the history room. "Mister Strickler's out for a few days due to..." He consulted his clipboard. "Deep muscle laceration to his calf," he read. He blinked. "Yowch. I'm subbing for him. So without further ado, I present Gun Robot 3."
As the classroom lights were turned off, Claire leaned over to Jim. "Any word on how he's doing?"
"Mom got home pretty late," Jim whispered back. "Doux and Archie and I were already asleep. And I didn't want to wake her up this morning just to ask. But if he's well enough to call in to work..." He let her draw her own conclusions.
"We should go to the hospital after school, bring him some flowers or something," she suggested.
"Actually," said Jim, an idea forming in his mind, "I have a thought about that..."
There was a knocking at the door at the top of the stairs, and then it creaked open. "Blink? Aaarrrgghh?" Jim called down.
"Ah, Jim! Home from school so early?" Blinky asked. Taking his question as permission to enter, Jim's feet rattled down the steps to the basement.
"Yeah, but just for a few minutes," the human teenager said, looking around the domicile Blinky and Aaarrrgghh had made their own. Heartstone crystals warmed the small space, and they had placed their trunks side-by-side, with the library chest on another wall. Apparently a convenient aspect of the "bag of holding" spell that Hisirdoux had cast was that whatever one was searching for came easily to hand when reaching in the containers. Thus, Blinkous was at the moment leaned up against Aaarrrgghh, reading him one of their mutual favorite books of what humans might term "fairy tales."
(A preposterous naming, of course. Real fairies might have wings like the ones most commonly encountered in human tales, but they most certainly did not look or act anything like their fictional counterparts.)
"Good school day?" asked Aaarrrgghh.
"Pretty good," said Jim. "Look, what I wanted to ask... do you guys have enough heartstone shards that I could take one?"
"Certainly," said Blinky. "Though may I inquire as to why?"
"Well, Strickler's laid up at home for a few days while his leg starts healing up," Jim said. "And I don't know if it works the same way for changelings, but I know the heartstone helps you heal, and since he's part troll, I thought it might work the same way on him?"
Blinky and Aaarrrgghh exchanged a look, and Blinky set down his book. He opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of what he'd been about to say.
Jim and Hisirdoux had both been most incensed about the treatment changelings received, and given opportunity to reflect on it, Blinky had concluded that their words did have merit. Even if was as yet uneasy about their alliance with the changelings, he could not argue that Stricklander and Nomura had indeed fought on their side and helped vanquish Bular from the mortal coil. And if the price of their alliance going forth was tolerance...
Well, Aaarrrgghh had once been a Gumm-Gumm soldier as well, and look how things had changed for him.
"A most worthy experiment, Master Jim," Blinky said instead, pushing to his feet. He reflexively dusted off his knees. "For trolls, full trolls," he amended himself, "we are usually taken to resting cots right by the heartstone itself to best absorb its magic and radiation. I cannot say it will work the same for Stricklander, of course, but I would suspect that keeping it close by his self would provide best results." He selected one of the crystals - not the largest, not the smallest, but the one with the cleanest facets - and handed it to Jim. "A study on the effects of heartstone on the physiology of changelings would be a most interesting treatise to read, but, alas, is not something one would be able to derive from the experiences of a single subject."
"Wish him well," Aaarrrgghh interpreted Blinky's words.
"Yes, quite that," Blinky agreed, handing the crystal to Jim.
The boy smiled. "Thanks," he said, carefully tucking the crystal away into his bag.
"Come in," Waltolomew called in response to the knock on his door. It was, of necessity, unlocked today. Getting up every few minutes to answer it would run completely counter to his instructions to keep his leg elevated and his weight off it as much as possible for the next few days while the stitches did their initial work.
(Barbara had said she would kill him personally if he disobeyed his instructions. Even now, the thought of her wrath brought a smile to his lips. It meant there was still a chance she cared.)
"Hey, Mister Strickler," said Jim Lake, pushing open the apartment door. Behind him were Toby Domzalski and Claire Nuñez. "We missed you in class today."
"Even though Gun Robot 3 was way cooler," Domzalski muttered, probably thinking he couldn't be heard.
"I was sorry to hear you got hurt at the museum," Nuñez said. "I'm glad you protected Douxie, though."
Waltolomew couldn't help staring. She knew...?
Her mouth curved up in a smile and she held out a hand. Over it blossomed a miniature purple-and-black rift in the air.
Waltolomew's eyes widened. "I was not expecting that," he admitted.
"Whoa, cool," Domzalski breathed, also staring.
"Shadowmancy," she said simply, and dropped her hand back by her side.
"So you're all in on this," Waltolomew concluded, his head dropping back on his sofa's cushion.
"Afraid so." Jim dragged a chair closer and sat in it. "Speaking of which, I have a gift for you." He rummaged in his messenger bag and pulled something out.
Waltolomew's eyes widened again. "Is that...?" he breathed, reaching out to the softly glowing orange crystal. He could feel its warmth, not with his hand but with something deeper. Like he was a tuning fork, vibrating at the resonance of the crystal.
Attuned.
"Heartstone," Jim confirmed, dropping it into his hand. "I don't know how well it'll work for changelings, but Blinky said full trolls sleep next to the big one down in Trollmarket when they get hurt."
"I shall... take his medical advice," Waltolomew said, bringing the crystal to his chest. He eyed the teenage trio. "I assume, however, that's not the only reason you're here."
"You got that right," Domzalski said.
"We need to talk," said Jim, "about the future. And what role the Janus Order is going to play in it."
Waltolomew dropped his head back onto the pillow and looked at the ceiling.
"We know they're here in Arcadia Oaks," Nuñez said. "Obviously," she added, looking significantly at him. "We know their headquarters are at Omni-Reach Travels. We even know how to get inside."
"We do?" asked Domzalski.
"We do," Jim confirmed. "I'll tell you later, Tobes. Promise."
The Trollhunter subsided. But the fact that he didn't know things that his companions did was... interesting. Very interesting, Waltolomew decided.
"We also know that my brother's a changeling," Nuñez continued.
"What do you want?" asked Waltolomew.
Jim sighed and crossed his arms over his lap, leaning back in the chair. "What we want is... shifting," he admitted. Now Nuñez looked at him sharply. "We need allies. We want changelings to be accepted both by humans and trolls, but I realize that's going to take a while. We want Gunmar let out only when we're ready, so that he can be destroyed like he deserves."
"You want a double agent," Waltolomew realized. "One who will lead the Janus Order and change it from within, but simultaneously lead Gunmar to believe that conquest, and vengeance for his son's death, is inevitable."
Jim smiled. "You've got it."
Waltolomew's mind stepped ahead, playing out moves like they were pieces in play on a chess board. "I look forward to seeing how you do in our studies on both world wars," he told Jim, thinking. Who within the organization could he get on the side of this plan? Who would need to be eliminated? "It... would be difficult," he judged. "Not impossible." He eyed the teenager. "Acceptance, true acceptance, from our troll kin might help sway some of the doubters."
"What about my brother?" Nuñez asked.
Jim sighed. "And we need the original Enrique back at some point."
"He's our first new operative in nearly twenty years," Waltolomew said. "Providing he is adequately cared for and accepted, on this plane, returning his familiar from the Darklands will be an acceptable bargain. Well," he added, smiling sardonically, "to me. You'll need to ask him how he feels about it."
"He's my brother," Nuñez said shortly. "I'm not kicking him to the curb. But I want my other brother back too."
"Wait, what? asked Domzalski. "Right. You guys and me clearly need to talk some."
"Of course," said Nuñez.
"So, do we have a deal?" asked Jim, holding out his hand.
Waltolomew considered the bargain from every angle he could conceive of, and concluded it was a good one. Certainly better than the one Gunmar would make. "You do," he said, and shook on it.
"Good." Jim smiled. Then he nodded at Waltolomew's leg. "The school play's on Friday. Are you going to be able to make it? I know Mom was looking forward to going with you."
"If your mother is still amenable to my company," Waltolomew said, conscious of the fact that was a big if, "then I will find a way to attend."
"All right," Toby said once they were outside Strickler's apartment. "You were going to tell me lots of things, Jimbo." His expression was stony, his arms crossed. Jim was not going to be able to stall any longer.
Claire looked back and forth between them. "Is this something you want me here for?" she asked Jim.
"...No," Jim decided. "This needs to be between me and Tobes."
She looked less than certain, but accepted it. "Okay," she said. "I'm heading over to GDT, then. Douxie wants me to do a final fitting."
"All right," said Jim. "See at school tomorrow?"
"You got it." She brushed a kiss against his cheek. "Good luck," she murmured, then was gone.
Toby still looked mulish. "Not here," Jim said. "My house or yours?" he offered.
"Mine," said Toby.
Jim nodded, and followed his best friend to their bikes.
Claire looked at her reflection in the tiny washroom mirror. She turned right and left, trying to see herself from all angles. Her hands rose to her hair, then smoothed down the dress.
She let herself out of the back room and back into the shop.
"Well?" Douxie asked.
"I'm speechless," she said. "Douxie, I feel like a princess!"
He broke out into a grin. "Give us a spin," he requested.
Laughing, she obeyed.
"And it's so comfy!" Claire cried, beaming. "The other one, and what I wore in Camelot, those weren't nearly as comfortable."
"'In Narnia your good clothes were never your uncomfortable ones. They knew how to make things that felt beautiful as well as looking beautiful in Narnia; and there was no such thing as starch or flannel or elastic to be found from one end of the country to the other'," Douxie quoted. "You do look like a queen, Claire."
"Thanks to you," she said. "But..." She touched her hair. "It doesn't go," she said. "Any suggestions?"
Douxie exchanged a look with Archie, then approached her. "May I?" he asked.
"Please."
He took out her hair clips, one at a time, then stood behind her, running fingers through her hair, loosening and fluffing it. "There," he said after a minute.
Claire darted back to the restroom and took a look. Much better, she decided. Not so modern and stylish, her hair suited the dress now.
"And one more thing," Douxie said as she returned to the empty bookshop. He shook out some dark purple fabric, revealing it to be a hooded cloak. "If you want, wear this backstage and don't let Jim see you in your costume until the banquet scene. You'll blow his mind, C-Bomb," he said with a wink.
Claire laughed. "You've got a deal," she said, taking the cloak and swirling it around herself until she was covered from her neck to her feet.
"Nana, I'm home," Toby called out as he and Jim came in the front door. "Me and Jimbo are going up to my room, okay?"
"Do you want any snacks, Toby-Pie?" she called out from the kitchen.
"Not today, Missus Domzalski," Jim answered.
"Well, all right. You boys have a good time playing video games," she said, coming into the living room and adjusting the blinds. "Draal, sweetie," she called down the open basement door, "Murder She Wrote is about to start!"
As Toby and Jim mounted the stairs to Toby's room, the blue troll emerged from the basement and took a seat on the sofa.
Up in Toby's room, Chompsky rattled around in the dollhouse, repositioning the furniture and deferentially asking Sally-Go-Back her opinion on the new arrangement.
Toby dropped his backpack on the floor and sat down on the bed. Jim took the chair.
"So," Toby said shortly. "What's going on?"
I have to tell him, Jim thought.
And it has to be now, he knew.
Jim sighed and reached into his bag, his fingers easily finding the cool, familiar shape of his amulet. He pulled it out and turned it over and over in his hands.
"Tobes," he said quietly, "what if, in another world, you weren't the Trollhunter?"
Toby's eyes were on Jim's amulet. Slowly they rose to Jim's face. "Another world?" he asked.
Jim nodded. "What if, in another world, the amulet chose someone else?"
Toby swallowed, and pulled out his own amulet. "Who would it choose, Jimbo? Draal?"
Jim choked back a laugh. "Not Draal," he said. "Hoo boy. No, not Draal." He met his best friend's eyes. "What if it chose me?" he asked.
Toby's mouth formed soundless words. After a moment, he asked, "And what happened in that world?"
"A lot," Jim said. "A... a hell of a lot. And at the end of it, people died."
"A lot of people?" Toby asked quietly.
"A lot of people," Jim confirmed. He met Toby's eyes again. "You."
Toby wet his lips. "And... and what happened after that?"
Jim looked back at his amulet. "There was a Time Stone," he said. "And someone... someone who knew things said it would make things right. But that only the Trollhunter would know."
"Only the Trollhunter," Toby echoed.
Jim nodded, and held out his amulet to his best friend.
Toby took it, held it next to his own, studied all the differences between the two.
"If you read that," Jim warned him, "you'll remember it all too. Probably even dying."
Toby looked up sharply.
"There's a certain set of people that the amulet will let remember that other future," Jim said, looking at his amulet. His fingers itched to snatch it back, to spare Toby the pain that was coming. He didn't. "Claire. Douxie. Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, if they ever choose to. A few others." His eyes met Toby's. "You."
The room was quiet. So quiet. Even Chompsky had stopped making noise, poking his head out a window to watch. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Jim breathed. Just breathed for a minute. "You needed to become," he said eventually. "If the amulet chose you, it's for a reason. I couldn't be a crutch for you, Tobes. I couldn't rob you of that."
Toby swallowed. "In that other world," he said, "was I still awesome?"
Jim had to smile. "Tobes," he said, "in that other world you were the greatest. I couldn't do it without you."
"And in this one?" Toby asked quietly.
Jim's smile widened. "You took out Bular faster and cleaner than I ever did."
Toby's thumb circled the face of Jim's amulet. "So you came back to make things go right," he said. "To save me."
Jim nodded.
"'The future's not set. There's no fate but what we make for ourselves'," Toby murmured. He looked up again, his green eyes meeting Jim's blue.
"For the good of all," Toby said, never looking away, "Daylight is mine to command."
Green light exploded.
Author's Note: It only took twenty-six chapters to get there! Jim giving Strickler the heartstone crystal was probably inspired by moonlit_wings' fic Becoming The Mask over on AO3. Douxie quotes from C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle. Toby quotes from Terminator 2.
