Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
released 21st February, 2025

Douxie stopped short. Claire looked at him, concerned. "Teach?"

Douxie's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, his eyes staring at nothing. His hands trembled.

"Douxie?" asked Krel, reaching for their wizard.

Douxie didn't seem to hear him- hear either of them. He took a quick, shuddering breath in, then ran.

Claire looked at Krel, who looked as confused as she was, then set to running after him.

It wasn't easy; Douxie was fast, and had longer legs than Claire. And he clearly knew where he was going, while she didn't. She and Krel had to dodge confused servants and courtiers left in his wake. "Douxie, wait!"

He didn't hear her, didn't slow, didn't stop.

"I think he is making for Merlin's tower," grunted Krel.

"Why?" wondered Claire.

Inside the tower, the two of them climbed, Krel taking the lead. Halfway up, they ran into Douxie's younger self, who looked at them with big eyes.

"Have you seen a wizard go through here?" Krel asked him.

Douxie the younger nodded. "I... uh, I went up the stairs just now," he said, pointing upward. "He didn't even seem to notice me. Is something wrong?"

"Probably," said Claire. "But we don't know what."

"He seemed quite upset," added Archie.

"Maybe he went to Merlin?" Krel guessed.

"We'll come with you," said Archie.

But in Merlin's workshop, there was only Merlin himself, sorting through levitating objects with flicks of his hand. "Not now, Hisirdoux," he groused irritably, not even turning to look at them. "There remains limited time before I must depart from Camelot, and I have much to do."

"Sorry, Master," said younger Douxie, bowing them out of the room.

"Where else would Douxie go?" asked Krel.

"Well, I mean, there's always the roof?" suggested younger Douxie. A sudden groaning noise from above made his head snap up.

"Was that...?" asked Archie on his shoulder, also looking up.

"The airship?" asked Douxie.

Claire and Krel exchanged a look. "What does he want with an airship?" Krel wondered.

By the time they reached the roof, the vessel was a small white speck in the distance, receding rapidly.

"We are going after him," said Krel. "I do not know what is wrong, but I do know that him dealing with it alone is probably not a good idea."

Claire nodded. She raised her hand; a small purple and black portal flared to life in front of her, then sputtered out again. Her mouth tightened to a line. "I can anchor to him, but he's moving too fast," she complained. "I can't get a lock."

"Then we will simply have to wait until he gets to wherever he is going, and go to him then," said Krel.

"Can I... can I come with?" asked Douxie's younger self. He looked desperately hopeful.

"He's my familiar," Archie agreed. "We will be coming with you."

Claire's grimace turned to a small smile. "Of course you will," she agreed. She glanced again at the fleeing white spot. "Wherever he's going."


It took almost an hour before Lady Claire's sporadic attempts at making a shadow portal to his older self bore fruit. Hisirdoux spent a good portion of that time peering over the edge of the tower at the grounds below. Camelot's knights were assembling, checking their armor, their weapons, their steeds in the broad morning daylight. He knew there was going to be some kind of big battle happening in the Wild Woods, but...

"Master Merlin said the knights are to fight on the same side as the trolls," Hisirdoux murmured.

Archie pushed his glasses higher up his nose. "I must admit, I'm dubious as to how well that will work."

"Me too," agreed Hisirdoux. "But if it does work, I guess it will be strategic or something?"

Archie sniffed. "Strategic or not, I have difficulty believing it will lead to any sort of long-lasting alliance."

Hisirdoux nodded, conceding the point. He doubted anything could lead to a lasting peace between Camelot and the creatures of magic. "Look, there's Master Merlin!" Hisirdoux said excitedly, spotting his master striding across the grounds, his sable armor a counterpoint to the king's burnished white. Like the knights, Merlin had a horse waiting for him - the big black gelding called Brutus.

"Brutus seems to be in a good mood today," said Archie. Merlin stroked the horse's nose while conferring with the king. His staff's emerald caught the sunlight.

Hisirdoux snorted. "Brutus just doesn't like you because you never bribe him with carrots the way I do."

Archie's eyes narrowed. "Bribery is cheating."

"It's only cheating if it doesn't work," retorted Hisirdoux.

"Oh, there is my sister!" said Prince Krel, joining them and pointing down at the crowd. Princess Aja's white-blonde hair gleamed like the knights' armor as she mounted a steed of her own.

"The princess is going with them?" Hisirdoux asked, aghast. He knew she could fight, of course - the whole castle knew it by now - but she was a princess! Noblewomen didn't fight in battles unless they had no choice!

"I would like to see anyone try to stop her," said the prince. "Besides, we will be meeting her there. Assuming we can find our Douxie," he said, glancing over his shoulder at Lady Claire.

She attempted another shadow portal, then gave up the attempt with what sounded like a curse in a language Hisirdoux didn't recognize, coming over to the battlements to watch the departure with them.

Though he surely couldn't hear them from his distance, Merlin looked up, his eyes meeting Hisirdoux's. Hisiridoux's fingers tightened on the merlon. But his master merely nodded, then slung his staff across his back, where it clung to his armor, holstered by magic, and used the mounting block to get astride Brutus.

The king mounted his own pure white steed, and with a great fanfare and clattering of horseshoes on the cobbles, the king and the wizard and all the knights of Camelot, attended by their squires, went out the gate and across the drawbridge, leaving the castle itself almost empty. Princess Aja rode in the middle of the pack, her own ladies riding pillion behind knights - save for her terrifying bodyguard, who was also afforded her own horse. Hisirdoux watched as the group streamed into the field, banners snapping high, and then disappeared into the Wild Wood, until there was no trace of them whatsoever.

Hisirdoux's shoulders lowered.

He hated the idea of the battle and bloodshed that was surely to come, but at least he had the castle all to himself and Archie. No one he needed to run from, or hide from!


After the knights were gone, Claire raised her hands again. "If I can't lock on to Douxie this time, I'm portaling us to Dwoza," she told Krel.

"Might as well do something useful," he agreed.

He was not expecting it when her violet-tinged eyes flew wide. "He's stopped moving!" Claire reported. "Go, go!"

Krel hustled through her portal before Douxie could start again.

Though, he found when he reached the other side, it did not look like the wizard was going to.

The airship was landed on the ground between two trees, listing more than slightly to one side. And their resident wizard was sat on a stone, staring at... well, Krel did not know what he was staring at. But Douxie's fingernails were digging into the sides of his head.

"Where is this place?" Claire asked as the portal closed behind her.

Archie was looking around, his eyes wide. "Oh no."

"Where are we?" asked Douxie's younger self, also looking around. "This looks like it used to be a village."

"Douxie?" Claire knelt down in front of him. "Are you okay?"

Douxie wobbled a little from side to side. His mouth made shapes but not words. He focused on Claire, then beyond her.

"This looks like... it reminds me of..." Douxie's younger self was wandering around. He touched the half-height wall of what must have been a house at one point, then turned. "Wait. No-"

Archie flew to him. His arms closed around the dragon automatically, as though he wasn't even aware of it.

Krel could hear Archie's purring from twenty feet away. "Don't look," the dragon said. "Don't look, Douxie."

The smallest monetary denomination dropped for Claire first. "Is this... your village?"

Younger Douxie started hyperventilating, babbling denials. Older Douxie... well, it took a moment, but he nodded.

"What happened here?" Krel inspected one of the buildings. Accounting for the degradation caused by this planet's atmospheric phenomena, the structure looked like it had been torn apart by claws.

"Gumm-Gumms," said Claire, standing. Her hand rested on their Douxie's shoulder, never breaking contact. "But why come here?"

A hitched sob was all the answer their Douxie gave.

It was obvious Douxie would not respond to either of them. And Archie was busy keeping the younger version of his familiar occupied. They needed a higher authority. Which was one of only two individuals. And given that Merlin was not known for his emotional intelligence-

"Claire," said Krel. "We need Jim."


"So," said Deya, looking at Jim. "About that sword of yours..."

He grimaced. He really should have expected that she'd recognize Excalibur. "I pulled it out of a rock, where we're from?"

"Ho, you have a sword, Sir Jim?" asked Lancelot.

"Yeah! He's only got like-mmph!" Steve's mouth was covered by Eli.

"It's a magic sword," Eli said, "but we know you guys aren't really keen on magic, right?"

Deya was looking back and forth at all of them until the penny seemed to drop for her that while she knew they were from the future, Lancelot did not. And that Jim wielding Arthur's sword had all kinds of implications that the foremost knight of Camelot might not take well.

"Out of a rock, huh?" she asked. "Huh. Guess that explains a few things."

Jim incrementally relaxed. "Yeah..."

Jim wasn't expecting the portal that suddenly opened in front of them. But given that his girlfriend was a shadowmancer, he probably should have. Steve certainly wasn't expecting it; he yelped and flailed, and suddenly there was a Steve-and-Eli heap on the ground as Claire stepped through her shadow portal.

"Hail, fair lady!" said Lancelot, recovering faster than the rest of them.

"Claire?" asked Jim, confused. "I thought we were meeting you at Killahead."

"Change of plans," she told him. "Something's wrong with Douxie."

What? "Douxie?" asked Jim.

"Douxie?" Toby, Steve, and Eli all echoed.

"Come on." Claire latched onto Jim's arm, pulling.

Well, it wasn't like he wasn't going to go with her. Especially not if Douxie had gotten himself into trouble. "Uh. See you there?" he told the others.

"Indeed." Lancelot saluted.

Deya nodded. "See you there, Jim."

Claire's portal swallowed Jim whole. On the other side...

On the other side, his brother, both versions of him, were clearly in distress. Jim's eyes widened. There was only one Archie, and he was dealing with the Douxie from now, so Jim dropped to one knee before the Douxie who was from home. "Douxie?" he asked, reaching to cover his brother's hands with his own blue ones.

He got no response. Jim frowned, and shifted back to human. He took a deep breath, and reached for radiance. For the voice of command of a divine king. "Douxie, look at me."

It worked. Like he was slogging through a deep mud, Douxie's head raised slowly until his eyes met Jim's. Jim managed to pull his brother's hands away from his head. There were bleeding red crescents where each fingernail had embedded itself in the skin. Jim ignored them, focusing only on his brother. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Mordred." It was barely the breath of a whisper. Jim doubted anyone else heard it.

Jim's face wrinkled in confusion. "Uh. You said he was dead? That Merlin told Arthur about him, and there was a purge-"

A harsh, ugly laugh cut him off. "That's what I thought."

Jim didn't understand. "You mean he survived? But we didn't run into him last time."

Douxie stood, shoving away from Jim. "Mordred, who was born on Beltane," Douxie said, so tense he vibrated as he looked down at Jim. "Mordred, who was prophecied to cause King Arthur's death."

Douxie's birthday was on Beltane too, Jim thought.

Claire sucked in a breath. "And you just talked Arthur into going to Killahead."

"Wait, does that mean you are this Mordred?" asked Krel.

"What?" asked Jim.

"What?" asked Douxie's younger self, in tandem with Archie. Younger Douxie paled and took a few stumbling steps back, falling on his butt. Archie pressed himself into the younger wizard.

Jim felt stupid, and wanted to confirm exactly what he thought was being implied. "Wait, Douxie are you saying you're...?"

"I don't know!" A burst of blue magic swept away from Douxie, buffeting trees and grass and rocks. Claire and Krel braced against it while Jim just stared up at his brother.

"I don't know," Douxie repeated more quietly, sinking back down onto his rock. His hands found his head again; Jim could see unshed tears in his eyes.

But Douxie didn't look at him, only at the ground. "I thought... maybe my uncles could tell me if my mam ever worked at the castle, or... if they knew I was a bastard or not. But they're not here. They're dead. All of them."

"Shit," was the only think Jim could think to say, mind reeling. Douxie might be Arthur's...

"Bad enough to be magic, here and now," murmured Claire. "But to be King Arthur's son..."

Krel tapped fingers against his lips, humming. "You do not look a thing like him," he offered. "Your hair, your eyes, your body type. All are different from his. Is it possible you are not related?"

"Would that be possible?" asked Jim. He hesitated, then put his hand on Douxie's shoulder. It felt tense like iron under his fingers. He didn't let go. "Maybe Arthur's men did kill Mordred, and his destiny just... spilled over onto you, or something?"

"That would be better," Douxie murmured, still not meeting Jim's gaze.

"I don't want to be Mordred," his younger self hiccuped. "Mordred's bad..."

"You're not helping," Claire told him, earning herself a brief glare from Archie. She walked over, knelt down beside Douxie. Put her hand on his other shoulder. "Would it really be so bad if you were?" she asked. "I mean, Morgana would be your aunt, and she's... not all bad. When she's not literally crazy."

Douxie paled. "Given that she goes mad because of Arthur's death... what do you think she'd do if I was the one who caused it?" His fingers tightened on his scalp, drawing fresh blood. "What would Merlin do, if he ever found out?" he whispered hoarsely.

Caught out, Claire grimaced.

Jim huffed out through his nose. "Bellroc is going to be the one who kills Arthur," he reminded them. "Whether or not he's your sperm donor doesn't change that, Douxie. You're not the one who kills him."

"Neither was Merlin," murmured Douxie. "Yet Morgana blamed him nonetheless."

Jim's gaze caught on a bush beyond Douxie. An idea sparked. "Claire, can you go back to Camelot?" he asked her.

"Camelot? Why?"

Jim stood and walked over to the bush, running armored fingers along the flowering stalk. The scent of volatile oils drifted up, smelling a bit like pine needles. "This is rosemary," he said. "We need salt."


Douxie's thoughts were like a whirlpool. Water circling a drain. He might be Arthur's son. Or he might not be. Maybe Krel was right. But he had the same birthday, and he had too damned much power. Being a child of destiny would explain that.

Or maybe Mordred had been one of the two boys in his village killed by the knights, and that child's cut-short destiny had just splashed over onto the nearest person with a grain of magical talent.

Douxie choked down a sob. Either he was a bastard's bastard, or he was the heir to a murdered infant's legacy, and he didn't know which, couldn't know which, and he didn't even know if knowing would be worse than not knowing.

And oh gods, whether or not he was a patricide, he was a king killer, and Merlin would do worse than just seal him away if he ever found out that Douxie was or might be Mordred-

Cool brown hands peeled his fingers away from his scalp. "Enough of that," said Krel, peering down at him. "I know that you heal faster than most humans, but that is not a good excuse to damage yourself."

Douxie stared up at him. He wanted to lash out, he wanted to curl up and die, he wanted to run away and hide, never to be seen again. All these things warred within him, with no resolution.

A glimmer of a memory broke through, and he couldn't help a giggle.

It earned him strange looks from Jim and Krel. "What's up...?" his king and brother asked, eyebrows raised.

"Remember that time," Douxie said, "when Toby thought I was Merlin's penultimate student?"

"Uhh..." Jim and Krel exchanged a look. "Yeah?"

"That's Morgana. And if I'm Arthur's bastard, that means Arthur is the penultimate Pendragon..." Douxie couldn't stop another giggle.

Krel blinked. "Have you hit your head...?"

"It's a play on words," Archie snapped from within the other Douxie's arms, then promptly looked mortified.

"We know who your dad is," Jim told him.

If possible, the dragon looked even more mortified, retreating further into his familiar's arms.

"Wait, they know your dad?" younger Douxie asked Archie.

"I don't wish to talk about him," the dragon grumbled.

"You know." Krel sat down cross-legged next to Jim. "If your father is a king, that makes you a prince. And though it is sometimes uncomfortable, a prince is not necessarily a bad thing to be."

Krel thought... Agh. Douxie covered his face with his hands. "That's not how it works here and now," he said. "Arthur wasn't a prince until his father acknowledged him. And Arthur ever acknowledging someone like me?" Douxie could think of unlikelier things to happen. Though not many.

"Well, I mean, you are a king's brother too," Jim pointed out. Douxie lowered his hands incredulously. "I mean, if Toby can be a duke because he's my best friend, I can definitely say you're a prince."

Jim was grinning.

Douxie resisted the urge to kick his king.

"Got it!" Claire stepped out of a portal, brandishing a small sack. "And also!" From behind her back she pulled out a hand mirror.

Douxie stared. "Is that Morgana's?"

Claire shrugged. "Well, it's not like she's using it."

Douxie... could not argue that.

"Come on." Jim got to his feet, then grabbed Douxie's hand and leveraged him up too. "Time viewing spell."

"It's not got sound, Jim," Douxie pointed out. "There's no answers to be found from the dead."

"That's not what archaeologists and Strickler say," chirped Claire while Jim went to tear a sizable branch off the rosemary bush, shooing away the several bees that clung to the blossoms. "Now where do you want these?"

"And anyway," said Jim, touching fingers to his amulet, "I think there's maybe something I can do about that."


Hisirdoux watched from his huddle with Archie as Sir Jim and Lady Claire and Prince Krel aided his own elder self to set up a spell that looked a tad more complex than those Hisirdoux was used to creating - while at the same time seeming extremely simplified and streamlined compared to Master Merlin's.

And he didn't like thinking about it, really he didn't, but thinking about the fact he might be Mordred was better than looking around the ruins of the village, picturing his uncles and their wives and his cousins - he must have had more, surely, it had been almost a decade and a half - being eaten one terrible night by Gumm-Gumms.

Hisirdoux crept closer, holding an armful of dragon.

His older self noticed and shifted aside, affording him a better view. The runic circle was tidy and tight, with the rosemary, salt, and mirror laid in the middle. Hisirdoux could read most of the runes, but there had to be something deeper he was missing, because he didn't understand all of it.

"Quite a different layout from usual," Archie mused.

His elder self flashed a quick, brilliant grin. "Master Dee was a genius in his own way," he said. Then the grin faded as he looked back down at the spell. "I'm not sure I want to do this," he said in a low voice.

"Hey." Sir Jim's hand landed on his shoulder. "You can control when the spell shows, right?"

He nodded.

"I don't want to see when the village was destroyed..." Hisirdoux whispered, clutching Archie tighter.

Sir Jim shook his head. "Not what I had in mind," he said. "We want to see what your-" his finger swung back and forth between the two Hisirdouxes "-parents looked like."

"Why?" asked Hisirdoux blankly.

"Well, if you're a dead ringer for your dad," said Lady Claire, "that will rule out being Arthur's offspring, right?"

She was probably right, thought Hisirdoux. But the flip side of that was, if he didn't greatly resemble his dad, he would be left in the same untethered, hellish space of not knowing that he was now.


His younger self had echoed his sentiments exactly when he'd said he didn't want to see the destruction of their village. But his reasons weren't exactly the same as Douxie's. Because his younger self didn't know Aaarrrgghh yet, and Aaarrrgghh was currently a Gumm-Gumm. Had most likely participated in that raid. And for all of Douxie's mixed feelings about his mother's brothers and their decision to cast him out to die, he still didn't want to look at his friend and know that Aaarrrgghh had killed and eaten his kin. So Douxie kept his thought very firmly on when he wanted to see as he summoned his staff and fed power into the array, causing the salt to sublimate and the rosemary to burn. And finally having his staff back made this so easy. Douxie barely felt it as the magical white mist arose, snapped into focus, and-

He sat down hard. His throat hurt. Water filled his eyes. He brushed it away, not wanting to miss anything.

"Mam," Douxie whispered in tandem with his younger self. "Da."


Jim looked at the two Douxies, sat by one another, looking like twins. Both their eyes were fast on the mist screen, where a woman stood, hands on her hips, as a four or five year old child ran up to her, followed by a strolling man. All three had black hair.

I should be recording this on my phone for later, Jim thought. If nothing else, his mom would want to see Douxie's parents. But that fell to the wayside, because right now, he was pretty sure he could improve this spell.

Taking a breath and reaching for Time, Jim extended his hand into the mist and pushed.

With a pulse of royal blue, what had been a flat scene exploded into three-dimensional life all around them.

"What the-" Krel spun and stared.

The Douxies scrambled to their feet, looking equally shocked.

Claire stared at Jim. "Jim, when did you...?"

Jim shrugged, smiling at her. "I figured some things out."

"Mam! Mam!" Douxie's childhood self shouted, running past them to the smiling woman. "I helped Da with the chickens!"

"Did you now, my love?" She knelt down so their eyes were at the same level. Her eyes were two colors, like Douxie's, but the center ring was a darker brown than his gold.

"Uh-huh!" He held out an egg as proof. "It's warm," he reported. "It came right out of the chicken's butt! I saw it."

"They do do that," she agreed, looking up as a lanky man came strolling up behind them, swinging a basket. "Was he actually helpful, Casper?"

"Oh, a great deal," Douxie's dad agreed, tousling the boy's hair. His eyes were blue. There wasn't a great deal of facial resemblance between them, but then beyond the dark hair and pale skin, Douxie didn't really favor his mother either.

"Mam." Douxie tugged at her sleeve. His expression was concerned as she looked back to him. "Do babies come out of women's butts too?"

There was a beat of silence before both adults erupted in laughter. "Oh, no, Hisirdoux," said his mother, wiping her eyes. "They come from somewhere else. I'll tell you where when you're older."

"Oh. Okay." Mini Douxie looked thoughtful for a moment, then he narrowed his eyes at the egg in his hand. Sky blue magic surrounded it as it rose into the air, wobbled, then floated slowly over to his father's basket, where it settled down. He looked up at his father. "Did I do it right?"

His father - Casper - checked the basket. "Not a one broken," he reported.

Douxie broke out into a smile. "Can I go play for a bit?" he asked.

"Yes," said his mother, standing. "I've weaving to work on, and I don't need you underfoot for that."

Grinning now, the boy waved and ran off.

"Casper," his mother said when Douxie was out of earshot.

"He's getting better at control, Heledd," Casper said. "It's a gift. The gods - yours or mine - have blessed him."

"I know," she said as his free arm came around her and squeezed. "I just worry."


Author's Notes: Douxie's father's name is inspired by chapter 106 of varve's fanfic Take My Hand over on AO3, which actually had Casper as Douxie's grandfather's name, with the "-an" meaning "little," combining to make Douxie's soubriquet of Casperan. Heledd (the "dd" is pronounced "th") is an old Welsh name associated with a collection of medieval poems, notable for being a rare example from the female point of view. His mother isn't that Heledd, but is named in her honor. As to Douxie possibly being Mordred... Aaron Waltke responded to a question, with a screencap of the then-mystery person handing Merlin the Amulet, back in Trollhunters. In response to "wow i wonder who the second person is," he answered simply "Mordred." :)

Kudos to those who figured out the implications last chapter, and extra kudos to those who guessed at it a long time ago. I have been madly giggling over this for a long time; literally the first hint was dropped in chapter 58, which I posted in October of 2021.