Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 17th March 2022

"Wait, you mean there are two Trollhunters now?" Krel exchanged a look with his sister.

"Well, that will make everything easier," said Aja.

"Not necessarily," Jim said. "There's problems we still don't have solutions to. We're kind of hoping you guys might be able to help us brainstorm."

"Excuse me," Eli interrupted, "can we go back to the part where you guys are from the future?"

Krel and Aja and Douxie and Jim and Toby and Claire all exchanged looks. "Eh... what he said?" Krel replied, scratching at the back of his head and gesturing at Toby. "I thought it was clear enough..."

Darci's eyes were narrow. She held her sword like a bludgeoning weapon. Which, as far as Krel knew, swords weren't supposed to be. "How far in the future?" she demanded.

Douxie sighed. "About a year and a half. There was an apocalypse, a lot of people died... Jim," he said, gesturing at the original Trollhunter, "had an item that let him come back in time, and let him awaken the future memories of those of us who were close in at the end."

"Whoa," Steve breathed. "Did I die?"

Aja smiled and stepped close to her Palchuk, cupping his jaw in one hand. "No, my beautiful Steven," she said. "Death did not touch you."

"Kind of the other thing," Toby muttered, but was silenced by a sharp elbow in the ribs from Claire.

"Apocalypse?!" Darci shrieked. Krel reflexively covered his ears, because, wow, he had not realized she was vocally capable of sustaining such a volume and pitch at the same time.

Claire sighed. "An apocalypse," she confirmed. "Which is what we're trying to prevent this time."

Krel glanced at Toby. "Are we going to try to persuade the Arcane Order to merely 'remodel a couple continents' this time?"

Toby snickered, grinning. "I vote Antarctica. There's not really much down there to disturb."

"Oh, I beg to differ." Archie jumped up on Douxie's shoulder and flared his wings. "The last thing we need is for the Order to awaken the Ice Drakes."

Toby paused. "Ice... Drakes?"

"Trust me, you wouldn't like them," Douxie assured him. He eyed Claire and Darci talking, and Steve and Aja talking, and sighed. He gave a sharp whistle, causing everyone to stop what they were doing, and look at him. "Look, are we doing weapons practice, or is bringing you three up to speed our new priority for now?"

Eli looked at Steve, then at Darci. He pushed his glasses up. "I think we need to be brought up to speed. Because how can we fight things if we don't know what we're fighting and why?"

"Deep, Pepperjack," Steve breathed.

"All right. Here's what we know so far..." Jim started.


"I suppose this could be a horror movie," Barbara mused as she opened the door to her studio. "I could be luring you down into my basement to brutally murder you and do unthinkable things to your corpse."

"My, what a vivid imagination you have, my dear," Waltolomew complimented her. "I suppose the murder weapon could be your palette knife."

"Oh, that's the least of what I could use!" Barbara laughed. He couldn't keep his gaze from catching on the sway of her hips. "I'm an ER doctor - we get in plenty of people using common household tools for ill-advised purposes. And that's not even counting the woodworkers. I should write a book someday."

He raised his eyebrows. "Have you a favorite story?"

"Hmm." She put her hand on her chin as she considered it. "I could tell you where wedding rings should absolutely not be worn, and why that makes certain genitalia blossom into purple mushrooms?"

Waltolomew couldn't help his wince.

"We had to cut it off. The ring," Barbara specified. He was glad she specified. "The lowest common denominator of human intelligence never fails to amaze me."

"After witnessing such things all day long, I'm sure it must be a relief to come home, eat good food, and relax with some painting," he offered.

"I'm sure teaching high school's no picnic either."

"I have on occasion," Waltolomew admitted, "dabbled with stained glass as an artistic stress relief medium."

Barbara stopped and stared at him. "Stained glass?" she asked.

He rubbed at the back of his neck and looked away. "It has been a while."

"Walt, that's amazing!" He looked back at her; she was lit up. Rather like sunlight streaming through stained glass, in fact. "Do you still have any pieces? I'd love to see your work."

"They've been lost over the years," he had to admit. He wasn't going to tell her decades. Or centuries. "Perhaps I should see about finding a space and taking up the craft again."

"That would be incredible."

"It is somewhat easier to work the glass as a changeling," he admitted, following her over to a stack of canvases leaning against a wall. "One doesn't have to worry about accidental inhalation of glass dust while in a troll form."

"Oh." She blinked. "Oh, I hadn't even considered that..." Her fingers kept walking along the tops of the canvases, separating them for her to peek at the images painted thereon. "Here," she said, stopping. She coughed into her hand. "This is the main one Jim was talking about." She pulled the painting out and set it on a free easel.

Waltolomew's eyebrows, which had lowered, raised back up toward his hairline again. "My word." Certainly he had never expected to be portrayed in such a... flattering light. She had painted him like a French girl, indeed.

Barbara's cheeks were stained red. "I can paint over it," she offered.

He considered the painting for a moment longer, then captured her hand and raised it to his mouth, brushing a kiss over her knuckles. "A man would have to be a fool," he said, "to object to being portrayed in such a fashion."

Barbara's blush rose higher. So much for Young Atlas' claim that his mother was immune to such a reaction. Dimmer though his senses were in human form, Waltolomew could still feel the pounding of her heart, smell the faint wash of her hormones shifting, an alluring perfume. "There's- there's another," Barbara confessed.

"May I see it?"

She turned away and busied herself with finding it, switching out one canvas for another.

He stared.

This... this, he had not expected.

She had painted him, equally erotically, in his troll form.

"Some of the details are off," she apologized, nervously brushing her hair behind one ear. "I only saw you like that once, and it wasn't under the best conditions-"

"You would consider it?" he interrupted, surprised.

"Well, yes," Barbara replied, apparently equally surprised. "I mean, I don't want you to think it's tokenism or exoticism or anything, but... I do have to admit to being a little curious."

Waltolomew was struck speechless. The two of them had thoroughly enjoyed one another's company in his human form; that Barbara might be willing to spend time with him in his troll form as well...

...It was unprecedented.

"I mean, if it's safe," she said. "I know almost nothing about the comparative biology of humans and trolls. Not even if you have similar, ah, anatomical structures..."

"We do," he interrupted her again. "I am stronger in that form, less vulnerable, and able to fly. But changeling anatomy is... yes, very similar. Though I believe true trolls' is not; fewer changes between the two forms, I believe, helped stabilize my people both magically and mentally."

"I'd be worried most about possible toxicity issues," Barbara confessed.

A grin slowly formed. "We do have our own scientists studying us," Waltolomew was grateful to be able to inform her. "So far as they have determined, no issues should arise."

"Oh." She seemed relieved.

"Would you," Waltolomew inquired, "like some... hands-on experience?"

Barbara looked at him, then giggled. "Not your smoothest line," she said. She adjusted her glasses. "But... yes, I think I would."

"Well, then." He offered her his arm. "Shall we proceed upstairs, my dear?"

She took it. "We shall."


Jim and Claire and Toby and Douxie and Krel and Aja were from the future.

"How is that even possible?" Eli demanded. "According to all known laws of physics-"

"Magic," the six of them chorused as one.

"But, but... no one attended Stephen Hawking's party for time travelers!" he protested.

"Eli." Douxie draped an arm over his shoulder. "It's not that kind of time travel. The kind of time travel you're talking about has a high cost, and there's really only one person who can make it happen anyway."

"Oh my," Archie murmured. "Imagine Merlin meeting Stephen Hawking."

"There's different kinds of time travel?!"

"There really are," Douxie told him. "The kind you're talking about... well, your body goes physically into the past. So there could be two of you running around at the same time! Which was not fun," he added as an aside.

Eli opened his mouth to ask more questions.

"But!" Douxie held up cautioning fingers. "The type Jim did is more of an awakening in your own younger body. Transporting just the mind, as it were, not the whole body. It's a much lower cost, magically."

"It's also more limited," Archie pointed out, "since you can't go back beyond your own birth."

"Not that that'd matter, for Douxie," Toby pointed out. "Since he's like nine hundred and some years old. That's lots of history to time travel through."

"I already lived it once," Douxie rebutted. "Why on Earth would I want to live it again?"

But Steve was nodding. "So like in Future Warrior 5, when they didn't realize Columbus was a time traveler too."

Claire looked unimpressed. "Not everything's like movies, Steve."

"Wait." Darci looked like she was working her way through a math problem. "So how did Jimmy-Jam get the power to time travel? Because I know he's not a wizard."

"That goes back to the apocalypse in question," Aja told her.

"In question?" Eli asked. "There were more?"

"Yup," Toby told him.

"There was an object," Aja continued, ignoring Eli and Toby, "call the Chronosphere. Nari, one of our allies who we lost in the battles, had told us that it had the power to make things right."

"Oooh. A MacGuffin, gotcha." Steve nodded.

"Not a- Ugh." Claire wiped her hand down her face. "You know what? Never mind, Steve. Sure, it was a MacGuffin."

"Anyhow." Jim took over the narrative thread. "After everything was done and we'd won... too many people had died. The cost was... too high." His voice broke. Toby patted his shoulder. Jim smiled at him, then looked back at the others. "We agreed to reset things, and to try to do better this time. So here we are."

Darci looked at him narrowly. "I feel like there are things you're leaving out-"

"Oh, there definitely are," Toby murmured.

"-But I will accept that explanation. For now."

Krel considered Darci for a second, then broke into a broad grin. "You know," he said to his fellow time travelers, "I think we must introduce Darci to Nomura. They are much alike."

Toby's eyes went wide; he made a little "oooh" noise.

"Who's Nomura?" Darci asked suspiciously.

"Another ally," Claire assured her. "She's... sarcastic. And angry."

"And takes no BS," Douxie put in. "I think I see Krel's point. I think she'd like you."

"Which is high praise," Jim added. "Nomura doesn't like almost anyone."

"Hey." Steve puffed his chest out. "Bet she'd like me."

The rest of them eyed him dubiously. "Yeah, no," Claire said, turning away.

"But... but... I'm the Palchuck!" Steve protested, his face falling.

Krel patted him on the shoulder. "It is rough, not being universally liked. I am sure you will survive."

"Come on," Jim said, leading the way. "Back to weapons practice."

"So," Darci said to Aja, "what's your planet like?"

"Their planet?!" Eli shrieked.


Henry looked at his phone and reread the text message, certain his eyes had deceived him somehow.

/Change of plans for Sunday,/ Douxie had sent. /Want to see the inside of an alien spaceship?/

Which, well, from anyone /else/, Henry would assume his chain was being yanked.

/Seriously?/ he messaged back.

/100% dead serious,/ the other wizard assured him. /The Akiridions either need some help rebuilding a vital component, or they'll need to raid Area 49-B./

Henry's eyes flew wide. /49-B? You've got to be joking!/ Going anywhere near Area 49-B was a death wish for anyone even remotely outside the human norm.

/Wish I was. So, Sunday?/

Henry sighed. "Astrid?" he called.

"In here," she called back from the living room.

He followed the sound of her voice to find her refereeing a cutthroat game of Candyland. "So, um, about Sunday," he said, leaning against the door frame.

Astrid narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes...?" she asked, her tone dangerous.

"Looks like there's a change of plans."

Her eyes narrowed further.

"So some of Douxie's friends who come from very far away," Henry said with emphasis, pointing up toward the sky, "need some help with a part for their ship..."

Astrid's eyes widened, then she rolled them, looking disgusted. "Yes, I can do munchkin duty again. They'd better be paying you," she warned him.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll get paid in something interesting," Henry agreed. "Besides, you don't really expect me to pass up the chance to see inside a space... shuttle," he said, with a glance at Zephyr and Nuffink, who were as yet unaware of some of their father's more uncommon excursions.

"If they abduct you, I'm shipping the kids over to your mom, hunting them down, and kicking their asses," Astrid threatened.

"My hero," Henry said dryly, not doubting her at all. She would totally do it if she had to.

/I'm in,/ he texted Douxie back. /When and where do you need me?/


"Um." Jim stopped on the sidewalk, looking at the house. Douxie glanced up from his texting.

"Wha... oh," said Toby.

"Well, it looks like Mister Strickler's over," said Douxie, considering the by now familiar car parked in the driveway next to Barbara's.

"And likely staying the night again," Archie added.

"Well, sleeping party at Toby's time," Jim said, turning to cross the street.

"Get back here." Douxie grabbed his brother's shirt collar, hauling him back. "What're you planning to do, move in with Toby once Strickler actually pops the question and becomes your stepdad?"

"Our stepdad," Jim rebutted, attempting to free his shirt from Douxie's grip.

"Our...? Oh." Douxie's grip slackened as the idea hit him like a brick. He hadn't even considered that being counted as Barbara's son would mean that Strickler would soon be his-. "Uh. Huh."

Toby snickered at him, before turned his attention back to Jim. "Yeah, sorry, no can do, Jimbo, casa de Domzalski is all full up tonight. No vacancies."

Jim glared at him; Toby's wide grin did not relent.

"In any case, Douxie did ward all the bedrooms with a silencing spell," Archie put in. "You needn't be concerned about overhearing them."

"It's my mother!" Jim defended himself. "I don't want to know that she has sex!"

"How d'you think she got you?" Douxie asked. "That thing about the stork is a myth, you know."

Jim glared. "I do in fact know where babies come from, Douxie."

Hisirdoux held up his hands in a warding gesture. "I have no idea what they teach you in modern education! It was a popular myth for a century or so, back in Victorian times. Anyway, Toby's said no, so."

"Suck it up, Jimbo," said Toby. "Quit wussing out about this."

"I am not wussing out!" Jim defended.

"You are totally wussing out," Toby told him. "Man up, accept that your mom's finally getting laid, and go sleep in your own bed."

"Dinner first," Douxie said practically. "Besides, think of it this way," he advised his brother, "you get to totally do this to Toby once Varvatos' suit progresses further."

Toby went green.


"So," Douxie asked quietly as they packed up from practice the next afternoon, "how did Mary's first lesson go?"

Zoe glared at him. "She had a shit phone. I upgraded her. How were you expecting her to learn on that piece of crap?"

She could see him bite back a comment about how poor workmen blamed their tools. Easy enough for him to say, or at least think. He wasn't a technomancer, and didn't need to be riding the cutting edge wave of technology just to keep his skills sharp.

In fact, in a lot of ways, Hisirdoux Casperan was still stuck back in the dark ages, relying on books and crystals and familiars-

As if he had sensed her thoughts, Archie leaped up on Douxie's shoulder and glared at Zoe.

She glared back.

"Got a bit of a project you might be interested in," Douxie offered mildly, handing her his phone.

Zoe scoffed, glancing at the screen.

She froze, her eyes going wide. "What the hell is this?" she demanded, catching Gil and Marti's attention.

"You're interested?"

She glared at him. "Cas-per-an," Zoe growled.

He took his phone back. "That," he said, nodding at it, "is the interior of an Akiridion spaceship. And the hologram of the missing piece that enemy action shot out of it as they took off. It needs to be replaced within the next few weeks, or the king and queen of that planet will die."

Her glare melted into a stare. "A... spaceship," Zoe said numbly. Then her natural cynicism kicked back in. "Oh, come on," she said loudly. "You don't have to lie to impress me, Casperan."

"If you think he's lying to impress you," Archie said lowly, "you are either underestimating the oddity of his experiences, or overestimating his desire for you. Which is it?"

Zoe glared at the disguised dragon. "Keep your scaly little opinions out of my love life."

Douxie glared at Zoe. "Keep your love life out of my life," he snapped. "I'm ace, Zoe. I'm not interested. Plain and simple. Not in you, not in anyone."

Zoe snorted. "A simple 'no' would do, you know. You don't have to make up lies about it."

A rainbow of expressions crossed Douxie's face. Finally, "You know what?" he asked. "Fine. 'No.' There, I said what you want me to say. Happy now?"

"You two having problems?" Gil asked, crossing the garage.

"Yeah." Douxie glared at Zoe. "Zoe here doesn't believe me when I say I'm ace."

She scoffed. "Ace isn't real, it's just something people say when they want to let you down easy. I hate being lied to."

Douxie threw his hands up. "You know what? You think whatever you want, Zo. I'm still not dating you. Now, do you want in on the project or not?"

Gil leveled a look at Zoe. "Telling other people what they are or aren't isn't copacetic," he told her.

Zoe flipped him off. "Telling me what to think isn't copacetic either, asshole."

"I'm not telling you what to think, I'm telling you what not to say." Gil studied her, his arms crossed. "You don't get to say you know someone else better than they know themselves. It doesn't work that way, Zoe."

"Fine, whatever." She dismissed him impatiently, looking back at Douxie. "When and where, Casperan?"

"Tomorrow morning. We'll be convening at a residence here in Arcadia Oaks."

"'We'?" She lasered in on that word.

Douxie... winced. "I may be bringing Haddock in on this as well."

"Oh my god!" Zoe threw her hands in the air. "That crackpot?"

Douxie... just looked at her. "You know what?" he asked, standing. "Forget it, Zo. If you're not going to play nice with my other friends, we'll work our way through this without your help. Gil," he said with a parting nod at their bandmate. "Marti. Catch you on Wednesday." And so saying, he left.


"Douxie, wait!" He heard the sound of running feet behind himself and Archie. He was tempted to ignore it and keep walking, but...

...But they really did need the help of an experienced technomancer to repair the Mothership.

Sighing, he stopped, turned, and waited. "What, Zoe?" he asked.

She caught up to him. "Was that really an alien spaceship?"

He just looked at her, wanting to argue about how since she clearly thought he was lying about other things, he was obviously lying about this too-

But Krel, Aja, and Varvatos needed help, and without Zoe's assistance, they'd probably have to resort to robbing bounty hunters and breaking into Area 49-B again. Not ideal.

"Yes," Douxie said shortly.

"Here in Arcadia Oaks," she tried to confirm.

"Did I not already say that?"

"And you need my help." She was grinning smug and wide.

"No. My friends need your help. And if it comes with strings, we'll do without," he told her.

Zoe snorted. "You wouldn't have asked me if you didn't need my help," she told him. "Mine."

"No strings, Zoe," Douxie warned. "We don't have the time for your little games. Either help because you want to, or go away. I've got bigger problems than you."

"Yeah, right. Like what?"

"Gunmar the Black," he listed off. "Interstellar bounty hunters. Colonel Whats-her-face from Area 49-B. A fifty-foot tall alien usurper. The Arcane freaking Order."

Zoe grew progressively paler with each name. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly serious," Douxie assured her. "So either help us, or get out of my way."

She was silent for a minute, then said "Text me the details. I'll think about it." She turned on her heel and left.

"Well," said Archie from by Douxie's feet, "I'm not sure whether I should say that could have gone better, or worse."

"Yeah," Douxie agreed. "Me neither, Arch."


Author's Note: When I read chapter 42 of Eli_Eli_El's Heirs to the Arcana over on AO3, my jaw just about dropped because they mentioned a water drake... and I had just written about ice drakes in this chapter! Sometimes the synchronicity of authors working on parallel stories is scary! Or amusing. Whichever. As to Barbara's story of which appendages one should never wear wedding rings on... well... let's just say that my sister has worked as an ER nurse and that particular event was, in fact, one she experienced in the course of her work. And, I'm sorry to all Zoe stans! I keep trying to write her and Douxie coming back to good terms, and every single time, she goes her own way! Though I can say with 100% certainty that she is an oppositional force, not an antagonist.