Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 19th September 2021

A two word text, that was all.

Toby remembers.

Hisirdoux stared at the screen for a long minute. He thought about responding, but couldn't think of what to say. He slid his phone into his pocket instead and drummed his fingers on his thigh.

"Well. This changes things."


Toby lay awake in bed, turning the Amulet of Daylight over and over in his hands.

His amulet.

Jim's amulet.

But Jim had a different one now. He wielded freaking Excalibur. He had set things up so that Toby would be the one to become the Trollhunter.

Toby didn't know how he felt about that.

Jim had given him the choice about whether or not to remember, and when he had he'd seemed the most concerned about Toby remembering dying. Which, well, it hadn't been fun, but it had been something that Toby lived through. The remembering, he meant. Not the actual dying itself.

(There had been pain, so much pain, and then shock blunting the worst of it. He'd felt cold despite the heat that pooled around him, red and sticky and smelling like rust. Cold like Skrael and burning hot like Bellroc. But he'd done it, that was the important thing. He'd figured out the tactical move and taken away Bellroc's power and made it so that the world didn't end. He'd won.)

(Maybe he and Douxie should make it an orphaned-stage-magicians-who've-died-and-lived-to-tell-about-it club. Nah, probably too traumatizing to Jim, who didn't like to be reminded of his failures, and probably felt both of their strategic sacrifices were his fault.)

Now, though...

Toby was the Trollhunter. Toby was the one with Draal living in his basement.

Toby was the one who had taken out Bular.

How the heck was he going to deal with Gunmar?

Jim might have done it first, but with his help, Toby had killed Bular two days faster. Yay, speedrun! Knowing what he did now, he could see how Jim must have been pulling strings behind the scenes like mad. So somehow they'd figure out how take out Gunmar together, without sparking off the Eternal Night. And then deal with all Aja and Krel's stuff. And then figure out a better way to take down the Arcane Order.

(Whoo, tall order city much? he thought.)

But they already had the core of their team together. Claire was learning shadow magic sooner, without being possessed by Morgana. Douxie - they hadn't even met Douxie until months from now! Heck, Jim had even somehow gotten the changelings to switch sides early. They were way ahead of schedule. Even if stupid Vendel had kicked them out of Trollmarket.

(How were they going to get the Triumbric Stones without access to the gyre? Clearly a problem for Future Toby. Also, why could only the Eclipse blade hurt Gunmar? Excalibur couldn't? Toby wanted more info on that. He needed to make a pointed list of questions for Merlin. Wait, how were they even going to wake Merlin?)

"Argh," he growled, bashing his head back against his pillow. "Stupid brain! Shut up and let me go to sleep. I have school in the morning."

Romeo and Juliet was tomorrow, and he really wanted to watch it again, knowing this time how it went. Wanted to see Jim in a costume instead of his armor.

Step one: fall asleep. Step two: get through school. Step three: -profit- watch the play. Step four: massive strategical planning session over the weekend.

He tossed and turned. Eventually, sometime after midnight, Toby finally managed to fall asleep.

His amulet gleamed softly in his hand.


"...for never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo."

The auditorium was silent at Eli's closing lines. Dead silent. Still draped over Jim, Claire waited as the curtain drew shut.

And waited.

And waited.

Oh god, they hated it. Why? I thought we all did at least as good as last time...

Finally, a single clapping started.

Then a deluge.

Then shouts and whistles and it was just a roar...

She risked a peek through the curtain gap, and what she saw caught her breath.

The entire audience was on its feet.

Claire shivered a laugh, breathless with relief, and gave Jim's hand a squeeze. Unseen by the audience, he squeezed her hand back.

Then they stepped forward, to stand with everyone else, and take their bows.


"Claire, that was incredible," Jim told her, when they were just stepping into the auditorium. The janitor was already stacking away the folding chairs, but a sizeable crowd lingered. Most of their costars had already gathered their things and gone out ahead of them, still in costume. Jim could see Steve, in particular, boasting about his role as Mercutio. And Miss Janeth was a cat in cream, shaking hands and talking to admirers. Señor Uhl loomed near her, one part bodyguard of the play's director, one part nervous would-be suitor. But as they stood half-hidden in shadows near the changing rooms, no one was noticing the play's stars at the moment. "You never went that hard in rehearsal."

"I just took what I felt when you turned into stone and let it loose on the stage."

"As all great artists should," a voice commented from behind her.

Claire whirled. "Douxie!"

"For the lady," he said, presenting her with a bouquet of white and pink roses, "and for the gentleman," he said, giving Jim a bouquet of white and yellow roses. "Will would have enjoyed your performances."

"Will?" Jim asked, clearly searching for who Douxie was referring to.

Claire blinked. "Wait... William Shakespeare?" she asked, guessing wildly. Her eyes widened. "Douxie, you knew William Shakespeare?"

Douxie pinched his fingers together: just a little.

Archie, perched on Douxie's shoulder, coughed. "You are looking at the original Puck."

Douxie looked skyward and sighed. "Yeah, I knew him," he admitted. "Acted in a few of his plays, though I was never in Romeo and Juliet." His expression grew wistful, his gaze far away. "He would have loved what both of you did tonight. It was, pardon the expression, magic."

Claire impulsively threw her arms around him. "Thanks, Teach."

He breathed a laugh and hugged her back. "It's nothing you don't deserve, Fair Claire."

She pulled back a little, looked him in the eyes. "Don't think we're not talking about this later, though. I want to know all about acting at the Globe."

"Not much to tell, honestly." Douxie shrugged. "Will and Master Burbage never let me use real magic onstage. Theater was a dicey enough business without any accusations of witchcraft."

"Wait, they knew you were a wizard?" Jim was surprised.

Douxie grinned, sly and mischievous. "The theatre can hide a multitude of magics. Merlin's apprentice treading the boards was perhaps one of the less surprising sights." He coughed. "Speaking of which, a small surprise for you..." He bowed himself out of the way, revealing...

"Blinky?" Jim asked, dumbfounded. "When did you get turned human?"

"A most astounding performance, Master Jim!" said Blinky, coming forward and vigorously shaking Jim's free hand. "I am most grateful to have been able to see it with my own eyes."

"Pretty costume," said a tall, bulky man with a shaggy brown mane, standing right beside Blinky. He reached out to gently touch Claire's hair. "Pretty hair."

"Aaarrrgghh?" Claire asked, wide-eyed. She laughed a little and caught the troll-turned-human in a hug. "Thank you. I'm so glad you were able to be here!"

"Yes, Master Douxie was kind enough to offer us the opportunity to come view your play incognito," Blinky told Jim.

Jim's gaze flashed to the wizard, who gave him a smile and a lazy salute. "Cinderella spell," he explained. "Won't protect them from sunlight, but for a few hours for an evening play it works out okay. I may've used up all your dried oregano for it, though, and there's now a salt circle burned in the backyard grass."

Jim had to laugh. "We can get more oregano, and the grass dies every summer anyway," he assured Douxie.

"Also, it looks like Draal and Nomura may be starting to talk things out." Douxie nodded toward the crowd. Jim sought out and found Nomura, a tidy Japanese lady... standing close by a muscular white guy whose pale hair was the color of Draal's horns, as they talked with Toby and Nana Domzalski.

"That's Draal?" Claire asked. "Wow." Her eyes were big.

"Should I be jealous?" teased Jim.

"Ha. As if. You know I like the skinny lean ones," she replied, smiling.

He smiled back, then blinked as a familiar pink-bathrobed figure walked past his field of view. "Wait. Is that Stuart?"

Claire shrugged. "I gave him a ticket. I thought it couldn't hurt getting to know him a little bit sooner this time."

"And you must be Lady Claire." Blinky took her hand between both of his. "It is most delightful to make your acquaintance, my dear. Though it seems that you are more familiar with Aarghaumont and myself than we are you. For presumably the same reasons that Jim is."

"Claire?" Claire turned; her mother was behind her, NotEnrique draped against her shoulder. "Won't you introduce us to your friends?"

"Mom! Oh, well. You know Jim, of course," Claire said. "And this is Douxie, he made my costume-"

"You made my daughter's costume?" Claire's dad demanded, looming.

"And mine," Jim said, half-stepping in front of Douxie. He had a solid guess as to what was going through Mister Nuñez's mind: a vision of his teenage daughter half-naked in front of Douxie who (1) was definitely older than Claire, (2) had a foreign accent, (3) even when he wasn't really trying, still looked like the punk rocker that he was, and, (4) nonetheless could have been a model. Just enough danger, exotica, and rebellion mixed in with the pretty made him enticing, Claire had once explained Douxie's appeal to Jim. Even now he could see half a dozen of their female classmates clustered together, looking at Douxie.

(It somehow didn't seem fair that Douxie didn't even have to flirt to get girls swooning over him. Still, Jim wasn't going to leave his friend cold in the water in front of Claire's dad.)


Douxie shook his head and gently pushed Jim out of the way. "I did," he said. "I was going to just make Jim's, but then we decided it'd look best if they matched, so the three of us theater kids put both sets together." Playing up the theater kids aspect, he'd figured out long ago, smoothed away a multitude of transgressions in the eyes of adults.

(And it was technically true. Hisirdoux was significantly more of a theater kid than Jim actually was.)

"He made me learn to hand-sew," Claire said. She rubbed her fingers together. "I think I can still feel the blisters."

"Me too," Jim agreed.

Douxie rolled his eyes. "You did not get blisters, either of you." He looked back at Claire's dad. "If you're worried about her virtue in my presence, let me assure you that I'm functionally ace, and not interested in your daughter beyond her friendship."

"Douxie!" Claire hissed.

Douxie shrugged.

Mister Nuñez's glower lessened, if only slightly.

"Anyhow!" Claire interjected. "This is Mister Blinky, and Mister Aarghaumont-"

"Aargh for short," Aaarrrgghh interjected, offering Mister Nuñez a hand.

"My, what an adorable child you have," Blinky said to Missus Nuñez, looking at the sleeping baby on her shoulder. NotEnrique cracked an eye open, looking suspiciously at the lot of them. Douxie resisted throwing the little changeling the sign of the horns. At least where Claire's parents could see him. Sooner or later they'd learn their daughter was a bruja, but until they did, it was best for both of them if Douxie, as her teacher, flew under the parental radar. "Both of them, really," Blinky continued. "Your daughter is an amazingly talented thespian. You must be so proud."

And that managed to crack Missus Nuñez's reserve.


"So, uh, this is what you'd look like human, Draal?" Toby asked, shifting from foot to foot. "Not gonna lie, it's a little weird seeing you like this."

"How did you like the play, dearies?" asked Nana Domzalski.

"The acting was... well enough," Draal replied. "The swordplay could have been better."

Nomura rolled her eyes. "Uncultured swine," she said. "I thought it was a very fine work, particularly when done on the budget of a high school drama department."

"Do you play chess?" Nana asked her. "I'm afraid Draal isn't much for it, and I'm always looking for new opponents. Got to keep my skills sharp!"

Nomura blinked. "I'm afraid I haven't played in quite a while." Her eyes drifted to the side, to where Mister Strickler stood, balancing on crutches. Jim's mom stood near him as he spoke with a few of his coworkers. Her body language, Toby thought, was studiously neutral. "Did you know that Mister Strickler, however, is quite an avid player?"

"Oh, is he?" Nana asked. "Please excuse me for a few minutes, my dears."

"Now that she's out of the way," Nomura said as Nana bustled over to the history teacher changeling. "Draal says you've all been kicked out of Trollmarket. Since you no longer have the Forge to train in, little Trollhunter, you're going to need a wider range of sparring partners if you want a chance at taking down Gunmar. And Stricklander's out of the count until his leg heals up."

Toby swallowed. He was man enough to admit that the idea of fighting Nomura scared the crap out of him. But it wasn't like she was wrong either. "When and where?" he asked bravely.

She ran a finger along his jaw. "Tomorrow night. We'll start in your yard. Prepare yourself to be run ragged."


Author's Note: The idea of Douxie having played Puck is inspired by SailorFish's amazing story Nineteen Plus Nine Hundred, Give Or Take, over on AO3. If you haven't already, go read it! Toby's thought about "Step three: -profit-" apparently originated from the show South Park? IDK, I only ever watched enough of it to know it was Really Not My Cup Of Tea. And, a side note for anyone who's curious as to why I note all my references in these footnotes, I've been plagiarized once, long ago. And I've been accused of plagiarism once, also long ago, by someone who didn't check to see that my story was posted well before hers. These two experiences combined to make me the anti-Cassandra Clare. All stories are inherently built on the backs of others that came before, but if I can be transparent about where I got an idea or a phrase from, I will be. Besides, if I love something enough that it makes its way into my writing, why wouldn't I want to share it, so that others can go read or watch that thing too? And, finally, thank you SO MUCH to everyone who's been leaving comments on this story. I know it can seem like shouting into the void, since I generally don't respond unless I'm being directly asked a question, but each and every comment is like a shot of serotonin. You all have made some bad days significantly more bearable.