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elriell · 3 years

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Two Mates? Elriel & (El)ucien Theory.

These are just a few of my thoughts compiled together regarding having two mates, the signs and breadcrumbs Sarah has incorporated. If you know me you know am a Lucien fan so this is nothing hateful towards him and we will be looking at his place within it all as well, that being said this will have bond rejection/misalignment talk so if that is not your cup of tea I understand and you can skip this! As always I would love to hear everyones thoughts so long as we are all respectful ♡

Let's start by discussing the where the two ships align and parallel mates behaviour, and then we will discuss where their arc's veer from each other...

“TOUCH HER, SMELL HER, TASTE HER– THE INSTINCTS WERE A RUNNING RIVER.” (Lucien in ACOWAR about the mating bond.)

“Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture.”

“Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.”

“They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. ”

“He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent. ”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. ”

“He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like.”

“This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. ”

Now you can easily parallel this to any of SJM's mates, like Feysand or Nessian. But for the sake of brevity I will leave you with the original link to the wonderful @suelky post where it was pointed out w/ Feysand quotes as well. [source]

Also "The instincts were a running river.” sounds a little like “Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea."

The Bonus POV has a lot of typical "Mates" behaviours manifesting between Elain and Azriel, and it would make sense this would be a extreme POV shift as we have never been inside either of their heads before so we were bound to have a major learning curve, especially with Az who is so reserved with his emotions.

“But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—”

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her." Azriel snarled softly.”

There are countless main trio parallels but most of you are aware of which one is my favourite...

“Knelt on those stars and mountains inked on his knees. He would bow for no one and nothing— But his mate. His equal.”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.”

"Every instinct in his body came roaring to the surface, so violent he had to choke them with a brutal grip or else he'd find himself on his knees, begging her for touch, for anything."

And on to where they go their separate ways from a textual perspective;

"Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.”

“Rhys kissed the hollow of my collarbone, and my core went utterly molten. “My brave, bold, brilliant mate.”

“You can give everyone that I Will Slay My Enemies look—which is my favorite look, by the way. You can keep that sharpness I like so much, that boldness and fearlessness. I don’t want you to ever lose those things, to cage yourself.”

“And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind.”

“Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.” He kissed my brow one more time, my blood thrumming and boiling in me, howling to draw blood.”

I think finding freedom and power from within is something that the books have emphasized through Feysand and Nessian's journey's. Which is so interesting considering Lucien and Elain are both feeling tied to each other, as if in a cage of sorts.

Elain herself has been stuffed in to a box of other peoples making throughout most of the series, it quite prevalent she might feel caged by their opinions of who she is.

"Maybe she was never given a chance to be that way." I whipped my head towards him. "You think I stifle her?" Rhys held up his hands. "Not you alone."

“Nesta had been right. It was like a prison, this place.” [Graysen's Manor]

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“She ignored me, and saw Elain as barely more than a doll to dress up, but Nesta was hers. Our mother made sure we knew it. Or she just cared so little what we thought or did that she didn’t bother to hide it from us.”

And as for Lucien I think his duty and honour to her is what is caging him;

“I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back.”

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?”

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.”

“Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.”

I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

Godbless Azriel for respecting Elain's privacy.

I think we would see/understand a lot more if we got a chance inside their heads but the one time we did see Lucien's POV we got a good glimpse at how he feels about his situation with Elain and it wasn't particularly positive and reminded me of Rhy's parents.

"She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.”

“...to remember that she picked it. Picked me. That it’s not like my parents, shoved together.”

Not using the word cage per say but the implication isn't much better.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.”

“So is Azriel.”

I don't think the debate is really whether Lucien is deserving of her, or even Azriel for that matter, it is a question of who is actually right for her and vice-versa, who has she been consistently written to thrive and smile alongside. And that is Azriel.

Why does Sarah constantly put Azriel in the picture, from day DOT. She was screaming "hey look Azriel is here, and they would work magically together"

“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.”

There are several instances/evens that occur throughout the series that set both Elucien and Elriel's relationships apart, and I think it is highly intentional on Sarah's part...

“I said quietly, “We will get her back.” But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.”

“From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Or we can look at both Solstice's and the clear differences in how their relationships are growing, and also how well one and other know each other.

“Tell me when you knew,” he demanded, his knee pressing into mine. “That Rhysand was your mate. Tell me when you stopped loving Tamlin and started loving him instead.”

“He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that.”

“I want to see her. Just once. Just—to know.” “To know what?” He hitched my damp cloak higher around us. “If she is worth fighting for.”

“Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”

GIFTS REFLECTING THEIR RELATIONSHIP MILE MARKS

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.” “And torn up by thorns,” I mused,”

“I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.”

“He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

Not only is she visibly uninterested which is painful to watch, it also highlights how little he knows about her. SJM is creating a visible gap in their dynamic.

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. “It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. ”

“My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen … You shall wed for conquest.”

“I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises. And for Nesta … ”

“She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

“I led her into the sitting room, where Cassian had a bottle of amber-colored liquor in each hand, Azriel was already rubbing his temples,”

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year -- a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there.”

“Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid. Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you...”

See yet again a very thoughtful and funny gift on her part. Now at it's core even just simply comparing their general reactions says a lot about the story Sarah is putting forward.

"Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

“He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone."

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly."

"Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. "

The writing is nothing if not clear about the discomfort both Lucien and Elain feel in regards to each other, though they lay under different reasons.

We are given multiple incidents in which we are told about how mating bonds are not perfect and we are given clear examples of it repeatedly, about woman enduring out of obligation, and do not forget this is heavily discussed literally in regards to Elain and her circumstances.

“She’d been revealed as his mate, and endured the miserable union mostly from gratitude for her unharmed wings.”

“You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other.” I peeled off my dressing robe. “So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. "

“She glowed with good health. Except … Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien. The male was definitely in the family room,”

“Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t true. There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around,”

“Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.”

“That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

“Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.”

What if ”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

“Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“ I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.”

The romantic subtext is there and has been for quite some time, they prove it book after book when SJM continues to grow their bond and nurture it whilst breaking her connection with Lucien further apart, and for what reason?

“A mating bond can be rejected,” Rhys said mildly, eyes flickering in the mirror as he drank in every inch of bare skin I had on display. “There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly. Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some… preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that. Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” [...]

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies …”

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

“Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.”

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.”

It is remarkably interesting to me that we are told about what Rhys suspects/believes is responsible for mating bonds, paralleled alongside Azriel questioning it all, I also think it is abundantly clear from his answer to Feyre he doesn't truly know for sure.

We also have several lines of dialogue talking about the sisters and fate, their reason for entering the IC's life. Not only that but we get a glimpse at Azriel's personality and how despite the world (Rhys and the mating bond in general) telling him to despair, he still found it in him to have hope the Cauldron could be wrong.

This is so significant, and she has carefully woven his character throughout the series to make this incredibly plausible.

“If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.”

“And then he said to my sisters, “We have not known each other for long. But I have to believe that you were brought here, into our family, for a reason, too. And maybe today we’ll find out why.”

“All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.”

“Even after the bond is rejected, they see her as belonging to them. Sometimes they return to challenge the male she chooses for herself. Sometimes it ends in death. It is savage, and it is ugly, and it mercifully does not happen often, but …”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.”

As you can see even back in ACOWAR she was weaving the web for Elriel's journey and an upcoming Blood Duel/The threat of one.

“Many mated pairs will try to make it work, believing the Cauldron selected them for a reason. Only years later will they realize that perhaps the pairing was not ideal in spirit.”

I think it is pretty clear from all the quotes above that Lucien is no her ideal spirit and vice-versa to be frank when you put it side by side his budding relationship with Vassa or hers with Azriel they are clearly very different.

“On the continent, there are territories that believe the females literally belong to their mate. But not here. Elain would have our full protection if she rejects the bond.”

“Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. ”

Elain is choosing Azriel, choosing their bond over the one assigned to her time and time again... Back to mating bonds;

“The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.”

“The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.”

"She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.”

“Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. “No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.”

"Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”

“Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”

“But Azriel nodded. “You knew,” he said to Elain. “About the young queen turning into a crone.” Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding … it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.”

Are you telling me that Madja saying a mate would know, would sense whatever is going on with her, and as it turns out Azriel was the one to sense and uncover it is solely what, a coincidence? Also to emphasize what she said about "A bridge between souls..." Where else have we heard that terminology? The Truth-Teller scene.

“I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.”

Not to mention this scene is simply iconic for a multitude of reasons, how poetic Feyre describes them, the clear soulmates/ying-yang subtext and him giving her something he has given no other but that's another story.

Azriel has also been displaying some very protective fiercely so mating vibes towards her,

“Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. ”

“Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him.”

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.”

“Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. “Where did Lucien go.”

I think there are some mixed opinions on Lucien and whether he deserves her (and vice-versa in this fandom) but I don't think that is what this comes down too, they are both handling it in the way they think best/following their instincts.

Lucien is hurting throughout this process as well, but I think ultimately it is honor and loyalty binding him to her not any genuine emotion for her as a human being fae. I think realising they are not meant for each other and supporting each other developing true bonds with other people will be their journey. And it would be a completely fresh and new view of a mating bond.

Smaller pieces of dialogue that need little explaining and a rather oddly specific choice of words in the latest book that is meant to set up the next one in the series:

“You’d know if she’d died,” Azriel said, pausing his work and looking up at Cassian. He tapped his brother’s chest with a scarred hand. “Right here—you’d know, Cass.”

“Elain and Feyre—that was the new status of things. The bond Elain had chosen.”

"I'd never do such a thing. you must be thinking of your other mate."

Honestly? At this rate I have no doubt Elriel are endgame and everything within canon text spells that out but I truly believe he will be her second mate/the will form a bond via some circumstance that shall arise due to these little hints.

I would love to hear your thoughts and/or additions because I by all means didn't do a massive deep dive and there are most likely tons more examples to add but I didn't want it to become overwhelming to read!

Hope everyone has a spectacular and magical evening <3

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #acotar #acosf #acowar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #elriel mates #elriel theories #elriel metas #anti elucien #tb safe and all that #dont want it falling in the wrong tag #c

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gold-kobold · 4 years

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How To Fight A Shadow

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13: The Big Anxiety Mood | 14 | 15 | 16

The Trollhunters brainstorm Glamour Mask precautions. Angor Rot debates on how to mend the rough patch with Dictatious. Rough patch turns out to be much larger than he anticipated. .

BOOM BOOM SHAKE THE ROOM, HAVE SOME FANFICTION, YOU HECKERS-

i couldn’t think of a serious title for this chapter i’m sorry

also godbless q for dealing with my horrible time management skills sorry bae ily

also also, coding’s being weird again, so i’ma just use periods to space the paragraphs until that glitch gets fixed lol

“Fire in the hole!”

The first sound that Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, and Angor Rot were greeted to was Toby’s emphatic shout, followed by the much louder sound of Dvarkstones being set off.

“It really worries me how often you guys resort to explosives to solve our problems.” Claire said, only uncrossing her arms to brush some of the residue from the blast off her shoulder.

“What can I say? Sometimes a good explosion really gets the job done!” Toby chirped, but he put his hands on his hips with a huff when the smoke cleared, showing that their blockade hadn’t been blasted hard enough. “Not in this case though, I guess.”

When Claire saw the three trolls approaching, she gave him a nudge. “Well don’t worry, the master of blowing things up is on his way now.” She said, smirking at Blinky.

“I am flattered, fair Claire.” Blinky chuckled, holding up the Lodestone pieces. “But it seems we may need to try this approach first.”

As Angor got closer, he saw that the entrance to the Forge had been jammed shut with large, broken or warped hunks of metal from Trollmarket’s destruction. If they were to use their training grounds again, they had to be able to get into it.

Unfortunately, the pressure that the metal had been put under had crammed everything together in an awkward mess, pieces being warped around each other and piercing the walls... No wonder this was becoming such a chore.

Angor kept his distance from the entrance for now, until his assistance might be needed. The first time he was here, he’d been trying to kill them all, not to mention how he disrespected these honouring grounds of previous fallen Trollhunters... He may as well have spat on their graves while he was at it.

Angor stood back with the teens as Aaarrrgghh and Blinky started testing out the Lodestone. When he got a good look at Toby, he raised an eyebrow. “... You look unwell.”

“See! Even Angor thinks so!” Claire exclaimed right after he’d pointed it out. “You look like a zombie, take a nap already!”

“First of all, I look awesome.” Toby argued, waggling his finger. “Second of all, when did you get a twin sister?”

A look of concern dressed her face for a split second, but that changed to mild annoyance when she realized Toby was messing with her. She smacked her snickering friend’s arm.

“Has there been anything strange on the cameras?” Angor asked. With how hard he’s been hyperfixating on this lately, surely Toby would’ve noticed something by now?

Toby’s smile fell, and he sighed. “There’s been nothing. And that’s what’s strange.” It was driving him nuts, to be honest.

“Hmm.” Angor clicked his tongue. “Your mind will not be alert if you don’t let it rest. You could miss important details in your fatigue.”

“That is what we keep trying to tell him.” Blinky called over in agreement as he and Aaarrrgghh set up a Lodestone shot.

“Hey, it’s not like you’ve been the best at getting much sleep, either!” Toby pointed out in an attempt to divert their attention. Angor couldn’t really deny it, especially since they’ve probably seen him checking their borders on the cameras.

They all paused their conversing when Blinky attached the pieces, and shot the Lodestone into the ground. The metal heap made some groaning noises, rattling in response to its strong magnetism, but the pile ultimately remained unbudged.

“... I don’t need near as much sleep as a human whelp.” Angor pointed out when the noise quieted down. Claire was unconvinced by that weak argument, but Toby felt the conversation about to turn back on him anyways, and he was not interested in getting hounded yet again.

“Oh hey, I have an idea!” Toby said, changing the subject. He jumped forward, gesturing at the jammed Forge entrance, and looked at Angor. “Remember last time, when you were still all crazy-town-banana-pants, and you did that neat magic thing in the Forge and made everything fly up in the air all weird?”

Angor was surprised, to say the least, that Toby could bring up the near-murder of his best friend in such a nonchalant manner... He’d thought that might be a touchy subject, he had been very… “crazy-town-banana-pants”, partially why he was concerned about returning to the Forge at all, but... “I remember, yes. You... want me to do that again?”

“If you make this junk all lighter with your weird voodoo gravity powers, it might make it easier to move.” Toby said with a casual shrug.

Claire pointed at her own eyes, then at Toby. I’ll be watching you, if Angor remembered that human gesture correctly. Fair enough, given how the boy keeps subject-changing his own health.

“Well... Alright...” Angor stepped forwards, two purple swirls of magic starting to glow in his hands. Looking to Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, he told them, “Stand back.”

The pair moved a safe distance away, all bystanders giving him space as he started that mysterious incantation. Just like the first time they’d seen this, Angor Rot was lifted into the air by a mysterious force, and as his spell continued, pieces of rubble began to float all around them.

Blinky’s eyes turned to Toby and Claire at first. They were watching with full interest, not seeming at all bothered by this familiar scene. He probably shouldn’t be bothered either, Angor hasn’t done anything wrong since joining them, but this was just... such a blatant reminder of the terrifying attacks he’d put them all through, way back when. It brought a frown to Blinky’s face.

When he felt Aaarrrgghh give him a slight nudge, he looked over to see the Krubera looking back with a questioning and concerned expression. Blinky gave him half a smile as a sort of reassurance, patted his arm, and returned his gaze to Angor, his frown quickly returning.

With the combined force of the Lodestone and Angor Rot’s magic, something finally dislodged among the stubborn metal, and it all came tumbling out with a deafening crash.

Dropping to the ground, Angor Rot dusted himself off, and heard Toby yelling an enthusiastic “AW YEAH” from behind him.

“I knew that’d work!” Toby beamed, basically hopping up and down. “The Forge has been freed!”

“Yeah, but now we’ve got to move all this junk.” Claire said with a smirk. Toby deflated immediately and blew a raspberry in response.

But then there was the ringing of Claire’s cell phone. Why did they always get interrupted by cells at either the most convenient or inconvenient times? There was no in-between.

“Hey, Jim. How’s it going?” Claire answered. She listened quietly, and her face fell slightly. “Oh, okay... Is everything alright? … Right, okay. We’ll be right there.” She hung up the phone, and addressed the others’ concerned looks. “Jim needs to talk to Toby and I, says it’s pretty important. Sorry to bail on you guys…”

“Oh, that’s quite alright. Duty calls, run along.” Blinky assured them, waving them off. There was a slight pause, and he also added, “And take Angor with you. Aaarrrgghh and I can handle this.”

At that, Angor raised an eyebrow. “... Are you sure?” He asked. “I haven’t done much.”

“You’ve helped enough, thank you.” Blinky assured him as politely as he could sound. “We can take care of the rest.”

Toby and Claire didn’t seem to question their friend’s decision. “Alrighty, if you’re both sure.” Toby said, shrugging.

Angor gave Blinky one last puzzled look, but didn’t push the topic. He followed the other two.

Blinky was relieved to see that troll go, and Aaarrrgghh could tell. He’d been giving Blinky a weird look for a while now. “... What?” Blinky eventually asked.

“Hmm. You being weird…” Aaarrrgghh pointed out in his worry. “Want to talk about it?”

“Ah... No, no, that’s alright.” Blinky sighed, picking up some of the scraps. “Just brought up some unpleasant memories, that’s all.”

Aaarrrgghh had already been killed at the point Angor was attacking Jim here, but he was understanding enough to know why this situation might’ve bothered him. He nodded slowly, and simply went to help the small troll start cleaning.

I think they’re just worried about you, to be honest.

Angor remembered Blinky’s words to him as he followed the chatting teens up the crystal stairway. What reason did they have to be worried this time?

To their credit, Angor hasn’t been completely focused lately, but they shouldn’t be wasting their concerns on that so often… He’d been debating on asking about this as they walked, but some little voice in his head had given him pause.

Why should he keep constantly questioning any small act of care that they show him? He didn’t need to. It’s not like they have any ulterior motives for it, so he should stop acting like they do.

They’re just caring people. That’s not something that needs questioning.

He decided to keep quiet.

When they reached the top, exiting Trollmarket to see a troubled, pacing Jim Lake Jr. waiting for them beneath the bridge, his friends approached with frowns on their faces.

“What’s the matter?” Claire had asked again.

Jim had started to unload his concerns, but he paused immediately when he saw Angor Rot.

“Oh, uh…” Giving Angor an apologetic look, Jim said, “Sorry man, I kinda wanted to discuss this with just Claire and Toby first. Is it okay if we catch you up later...?”

“Of course.” Angor agreed without a second thought. Taking caution wasn’t something that would bother him, nor did he seem offended that he was being sent away yet again in the past ten minutes, which was a relief. Even all that besides, he had other concerns on his mind rather than this... “Do what you need to.”

They exchanged goodbyes, waved as Angor went on his way, and Jim’s friends turned their attention on him.

“So, really, what’s up Jimbo?” Toby asked.

“Sorry, this is going to be weird. Please just answer these honestly, okay?” Jim warned them. He then looked at Claire and asked, “What’s the first song we danced to?”

Claire seemed puzzled, but she looked up in thought, then said, “Oh, that was on Spring Fli- Oh, no wait, I guess it was technically in the Quagawump Swamp, wasn’t it?” She laughed at the memory before answering, “So I guess it would’ve been ‘Boom Boom, Shake The Room’? Or that other Quagawump song, I don’t know what they called it...”

“Yeah, ha. Good times.” Jim also couldn’t help but to crack a smile at that - God, his dancing had been horrible - but he brushed that thought away and turned to Toby next. “What was the toy you gave me when we first became friends?”

“Oh, that’s easy! It was a brand new Sally-Go-Back robot monster action figure!” Toby fired back in a flash. “Those things are probably worth some good cash now, y’know.”

When Jim sighed in relief, Claire gave him an inquisitive look. “What’s with the sudden questionnaire?” She asked him.

“Ehh... Well... Let’s just say Nomura and I might’ve figured out the fake Draal problem…”

When Jim filled his friends in on the situation, they all just sat in uncomfortable silence for some time.

The thought of somebody going around, possibly impersonating more of their friends than just Draal, it was enough to get under anybody’s skin. What an unnerving thought...

Now it was just a matter of what to do about this situation.

“Well…” Toby eventually spoke, “We’ll... have to warn as many people as we can, but that means we’ll have to come up with some questions to make sure they’re who they say they are first…”

“We can all cover our own parents-slash-grandparents, naturally.” Claire said, but then she immediately cringed at her own words and looked at Jim, “Oh, but that might be a little harder with James, I guess…”

“Eh… My dad’s an idiot, and none of us trust him as is, I don’t think. I’d rather not tell him, in case he risks blabbing about it in front of the wrong people.”

His friends nodded in agreement. “We’d better clear that with everyone else too, then.” Claire added. “Just to be safe.”

“What about Angor?”

Jim and Claire looked at Toby, confused.

“What about him?” Jim asked.

Oh, geez… How to word this without coming off the wrong way...

“Well… y’know, I do trust him, but I don’t trust Morgana.” Toby clarified. He felt like he was just juicing his same reasoning from long before. “There’s still a piece of Her soul in there, remember! We don’t know if She can see outta him or not, or-or if there’s some other weird stuff She can do, or-”

“Tobes.” Jim had walked over to him, put a hand on his shoulder. “I know you’ve been really on edge about Her, and I mean, I don’t blame you at all. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to start being that suspicious of each other…”

Toby bit his tongue. He looked from Jim, to Claire, who started looking slightly uncomfortable herself, and he realized the implications that could’ve been taken away from what he said.

She had a connection with Morgana too, so does that mean they should stop warning her of possible dangers as well?

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I just wish we could be a step ahead for once…”

“Trust me, I get it.” Jim reassured him.

Claire eventually spoke up, too. “And, I mean… it’s not like that’s not a valid worry, Morgana’s got to be getting Her information somehow, but even if it was through Angor, we shouldn’t punish him for it.”

Sighing again, Toby nodded in agreement. “So if we tell Angor, we risk tipping off the mask user that we’re onto them, but even that’s not a guarantee.” He reasoned.

“And if we don’t tell Angor, then that puts him at a way higher danger of being tricked himself.” Claire added on.

Jim nodded slowly, taking both of their points into account. “... Well... I think his safety is more important than us having the edge against our mystery person, you know? Like, when it comes down to it, I’d feel way more bad about Angor getting hurt, or something worse, over something we could’ve warned him about rather than if we lost an advantage against an enemy. Besides, we can’t even say for sure whether telling him would alert our enemies or not.”

Claire couldn’t agree more. “He can take care of himself, but he shouldn’t have to rely on just himself anymore. Friends look out for each other.”

Despite whatever doubts Toby initially showed at first, that was a point he could never disagree with. He nodded, reconfirming, “All in agreement that we tell him too, then?”

He probably didn’t even need to ask. Claire and Jim were instantly on board with that.

“Okay. Then we’d better start figuring out how to go about this...”

Sometimes, people say or do certain things because… well, it’s how they’ve been conditioned.

Angor had been thinking back on his conversation with Barbara a lot these past few days.

So many things should be considered when you’re trying to understand how someone else is behaving, especially when you’re debating whether to forgive someone or not.

They’d been talking about Strickler.

Anybody can become unfortunate enough to fall into a cycle of abuse…

They’d been talking about Strickler. So why, why did he keep thinking about this with Dictatious in mind, instead?

Angor had been spending a large amount of time watching the Conundrum from afar these past couple days, ever since they’d moved that metal in the Forge. He’s just been behaving so strangely about everything, and it bothered Angor more than he’d like to admit.

Dictatious didn’t deserve his concern at this point. He’d made it clear that he didn’t worry about Angor in the same way, after all.

Worry. Ugh. That’s even worse wording to use…

But he couldn’t really help it. He’s had too much thinking time on his hands lately, and much of it was spent piecing together certain behaviours of Dictatious’s that were starting to add up into... well, something.

And it always seems to stem back from Gunmar, in one way or another. It was every time that Gunmar gets brought up that Dictatious gets especially defensive, after all...

Dictatious is such a strange little troll. Lashes out when people get too personal, then tries to reel them back in as if nothing ever happened? It was not a stable way to hold relationships. But after so many years under Gunmar’s command, how much does he even realize that? He needs to be held accountable for how he acts, obviously. But... Angor couldn’t deny that many of his behaviours nowadays are probably the result of trauma, whether Dictatious would admit that or not.

Another thing Angor noted from his observations was how... secluded Dictatious was lately. He’s been back to staying in the house day in, day out, with little to no interaction with the others.

This likely wasn’t much different from how he’d lived before Angor got here anyways. Blinky said himself that Angor spent more time around the other Conundrum than even his own brother... and, as far as Angor could tell, nobody else (aside from Nancy) really bothered interacting with Dictatious unless they needed something from him (or, in NotEnrique’s case especially, to get on his nerves).

... Perhaps Angor was being too harsh in ignoring him altogether.

He decided to put more of an effort into interacting again.

He started out small, of course, only giving quick greetings here or there whenever he ran into Dictatious. It was mostly out of courtesy, partially to test the waters, so to speak.

Dictatious didn’t take it that way.

To him, it felt as though he were being toyed with. Tested, maybe, for the assassin to try and push him into letting down his guard. Dictatious would not fall for it.

He kept his guard very much up, tensely awaiting the moment where Angor’s tone would change to something hostile. Until then, Dictatious just nodded along with whatever the other troll said, whatever small talk he tried to make... He refused to let himself be baited into saying something that would set Angor off, so the plan for now was to be as agreeable as possible around him.

All that did was confuse Angor Rot even more, and it was even starting to puzzle whoever’d be nearby at the time. But nobody said anything.

It doesn’t matter. So long as Dictatious can hold off being alone around him, he’d do whatever he can to divert any anger that the assassin’s got headed his way.

Nancy had been getting Dictatious’s help with her cooking, in their spare time.

He’d been spending much more time in the house again, after all, and she knew he was jittery about something. So, it’s been at least a small way to keep his mind off things. And, while he’d never admit it to her face, he enjoyed her company, too.

Today, she was planning on baking apple pie. She had to run to the store for a few missing ingredients, but she had asked Dictatious to peel the apples she’d left on the counter, so they’d be ready for food prep when she got back.

Of course, Dictatious had nothing better to do, so why not?

It was another day in which the Trollhunters had been off running some errand or another. As of late, he’d only noticed Angor Rot staying near to them whenever he was around, so he’d grown (mistakenly) more comfortable in assuming he’d be wherever the kids were, for now.

Still, he couldn’t turn off that flicker of anxiety when he was alone. But he’d gotten better at ignoring it.

He made his way into the kitchen some time after Nancy left for her shopping trip. She said she’d left the peeler in front of the microwave, so he found it rather quickly. The apples, however… “on the counter”, she’d said, but that was still pretty vague, given his lack of eyesight…

Oh, well. He could just feel around until he found them, which is exactly what he started to do.

“They’re to your left.”

The sound of that voice made Dictatious freeze up where he stood. A surge of panic dropped on him like a ton of bricks, but Gods, did he ever try to not let it topple him. Very slowly, without a word, he reached to his left and found the fruit he was looking for.

Angor had been keeping an eye on him today, as he did most days, recently. But he’d been keeping his distance for the most part, stationing himself in the kitchen to carve even more totems for his growing collection.

At first, he hadn’t paid Dictatious any mind as he’d entered, but now he couldn’t help but notice that the Conundrum’s movements were much more stiff after having heard him speak. Angor noted it as strange... It brought a thin frown to his face, but he stayed quiet about that observation and went back to carving. “You’ve been getting better at navigating your surroundings.” He pointed out. “That’s good to see.”

That almost got Dictatious to shudder, but the Conundrum somehow managed to force that down. He bit his tongue, his ears drooping slightly out of unease, but he still stayed silent and just kept peeling. To him, that comment only confirms that Angor had been watching him far too closely for comfort. Maybe that’s the message Angor was trying to get across, to watch him squirm.

They were alone. Great Grumbling Gruesome, if now wasn’t a good chance for Angor to attack him, Dictatious didn’t know what was. Biting his tongue, he didn’t say a word.

Angor Rot glanced over to him once again, his frown getting heavier. Dictatious had been acting much stranger than usual, that much Angor had been sure of for a while now. But if something was wrong, would it even be appropriate for him to try and address it at this point? Given Dictatious’s recent apprehensive behaviour towards him? Chances are that he’s already annoyed by Angor’s presence as is, but…

“... Are you alright?”

His confusion turned into surprise when Dictatious slammed his tools back down on the counter, whipped around to face Angor, and snarled at him.

"If you're going to do something to me, for Gronka-Morka’s sake, will you please just get it over with?!" Dictatious snapped loudly. He was borderline trembling in fear, but he started running his mouth regardless of how much he wished he’d shut up and get away from Angor Rot already, why is he still talking-- "This horrible waiting is driving me insane!"

“... Wait... what?” Angor paused, looking up from what he was doing to stare in total puzzlement at Dictatious. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, spare me the act. You have all the opportunity in the world to do away with me, so get on with it, already!” Dictatious hissed, tired of all this. “What’s holding you back?! Afraid the Trollhunters might care about what you do?” Scoffing, he growled again. “Get over yourself, because they won’t.”

Angor Rot had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to respond to that. He was, at first, wide-eyed and speechless. Had he misheard something? Where was this coming from all of a sudden?

Maybe Dictatious wasn’t speaking fully literally…?

Squinting slightly, he tried to make sure he was understanding correctly. “You are... expecting me to attack you?” He questioned. “Is this about training, or-?”

“Gods, please just stop…!” As much as he hated it, Dictatious couldn’t stop his voice from shaking anymore. All that anxiety he’d been trying to force down was steadily bubbling its way to the surface. He took a step back, though it was more of a stumble than anything. “I don’t know what you want me to do... Just- just get this over with, please- I’m so t-tired of this waiting, I know you’re angry with me, so just get on with whatever you’re planning to do to me!”

For the first (Second? Third? Who knows anymore) time since his second resurrection, Angor Rot found himself at a complete loss for words.

Dictatious was terrified.

He lowered his carving tools slightly. When he found his voice, it was full of only confusion. “Why do you... What makes you think I’m planning something?”

“I’m not an idiot! Why else would you be avoiding me but watching me at the same time?!” Dictatious snapped again, his emotions fluctuating between fear and anger. Like his shaking voice, he couldn’t stop himself from trembling anymore, and he took another step back while his dread rapidly overwhelmed him. His eyes squeezed shut as he shook his head, his voice becoming a desperate whimper. “Do you want me to beg, is that it…?! What are you waiting for?! P-Please, please just tell me so I can get this over w-with-” Dictatious had to cut himself off to keep his voice from completely breaking, throwing a hand to his mouth to shut himself up.

Angor Rot couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How on Earth did Dictatious come to this conclusion…?

"I... I was only avoiding you because I was tired of being insulted and toyed with..." Angor's brows furrowed further. His voice had started out with annoyance, but that tone had now drifted to something softer, with far more concern than before. "Did you really think I was going to hurt you...?"

Dictatious didn’t answer, but the look on his face said it all. Angor’s jaw clenched. He pocketed his totem and knife, shifting his full attention to the other troll. “Listen to me. I would not endanger you over something so trivial.” He said sternly. “Just because I got frustrated with you, that doesn’t mean I want to bring you harm.”

Those words didn’t seem to be sinking in. Dictatious kept backing away further, the fear he was radiating not getting any weaker.

This was not good. Not at all what Angor had been going for with the distance he’d put between them. And the realization of just how much stress he’d been causing the smaller troll stirred up a strange sensation of discomfort within him.

Angor Rot started to say something else to try and ease Dictatious’s concerns, but another voice interrupted him from outside the front door.

“Hey, Angor?” Jim called over. “Can we talk to you for a sec?”

“Wait, just--” Angor started to request they wait, but Dictatious took that moment of distraction to rush out of the kitchen. Angor had turned his head back just in time to watch the Conundrum disappearing through the other door, and he felt his jaw clench again in frustration. “... Never mind, then…” He rumbled quietly to himself.

For a second, he debated following Dictatious. But with the state of mind he’s in right now, doing that might only make matters worse. With a quiet sigh of frustration, Angor Rot followed Jim’s voice outside to see what the Trollhunters wanted.

It was a miracle that Dictatious managed to find the bathroom in his panic, even more so that his shaking hands were able to lock the door. He didn’t make it any farther before he caved.

He found a wall to collapse against, not out of exhaustion, but out of fear. Absurd, nonsensical, unbearable fear.

Despite how hard he tried to catch his breath, his lungs felt paralyzed. Whatever breath he did manage to take came out as nothing more than a shallow gasp for air. He felt the chill that had gone up his spine spread across every inch of him, and it only made his trembling worse. His stomach churned as though he might vomit.

He felt every sensation with such overwhelming intensity. He felt everything at once, but was somehow so, so numb. He wished he could tell himself to calm down.

But his mind wasn’t listening to him. Not one bit. It raced with thoughts of danger, like an alarm bell going off in his head that he just couldn’t shut off. In this moment, it genuinely felt like he was going to die.

It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re still breathing. So you’re fine. For now.

You’re fine.

Over and over again, he repeated those thoughts. He repeated them until his brain could be tricked into believing it. He was so used to lying that he should be able to do it to himself with ease.

You’re fine.

It’s not like this was a feeling he hasn’t experienced thousands of times over.

But it’s been so long since the last one this bad.

You’re fine-... I’m fine.

The shallow breaths that had been heaving out of his lungs eventually slowed down. He closed his eyes, and focused on that.

Just breathing. That’s something even he can’t mess up.

Even if he was having trouble with it just mere moments ago…

I’m fine.

He repeated it to himself once more... Twice more.

Dictatious wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there. Time felt like it wasn’t passing at all, yet it also felt as though he’d been sitting there for hours.

Either way, he shouldn’t let himself be spotted like this.

He felt his face to make sure he hadn’t been crying, and felt a twinge of relief when his hands came back dry.

I’m fine.

One more time for good measure.

Slowly, he managed to muster energy to bring himself back to his feet. Taking one more deep, deep breath, Dictatious forced himself to put this ridiculousness behind him, stopped his hands from shaking just long enough to unlock the door, and once he was sure that Angor Rot was no longer there, he staggered back into the kitchen to continue his task.

. .

Angor is supposed to be good at recognizing fear. He’d thrived off of causing others fear. It was such an unavoidable part of his old duties, and it was something he’d even come to enjoy getting out of his prey during the hunt.

But that was before he’d made friends with the Trollhunters. Now he was internally kicking himself as he thought back on all the signs he’d ignored. Of course Dictatious had become scared of him, how did he miss that? How long has this been going on right in front of him?

He’s an assassin. He’s killed thousands. He’s used to people being afraid of him, so one cowardly troll showing fear towards him shouldn’t come as a surprise, nor should it bother him so much.

But it did bother him. It bothered him that this specific troll was now scared of him. It bothered him that he didn’t fully understand why.

And it especially bothered him that he didn’t know what could be done about it.

“Angor.”

Jim’s voice caught him back into the conversation at hand.

“We really need your attention here, okay?” The Trollhunter said. “This is kiiinda very important.”

“And seriously, are you feeling okay? I mean it.” Claire asked in addition. “You’ve been majorly spacey for a while now.”

He’s not usually like this, it’s true. And Angor wasn’t dense - he could see that the children were getting tired of him brushing everything off as nothing. They’re a unit based off of supporting one another, after all.

“... I’m sorry. I have been distracted, yes.” He admitted to them. Angor glanced back at the house for one quick moment, but didn’t break eye contact for long. “But it is something I need to deal with alone for right now.”

The group of teens looked collectively unsure about that. But, to give him credit, at least he was being slightly more open about something being off...

“Okay…” Claire hesitantly replied. She kept an especially worried eye on him. “Just remember that you can talk to us, if you need to.”

“I know.” Angor said with an air of certainty. It was getting hard to doubt their incessant desires to be helpful all the time. “You said you had something important to discuss?”

“Yeah.” Antsy to get back on track, Jim pulled up the picture of a Glamour Mask on his phone, showing it to Angor. “You know what these are, right?”

The assassin eyed the picture closely, eventually nodding. “Yes, I think so... They change the wearer’s appearance, do they not?”

Toby nodded. “Yup. And we got a mega problem, because one of Nomura’s is missing.”

Angor’s brows furrowed. “Oh…”

They weren’t about to accuse him for this, were they…? Not that he would blame them, after that mistake he made with Strickler’s Parlok Spear, but...

“Yeah, it’s a mess…” Jim sighed, matching the bothered tone. “We’re just trying to let everyone know, and figure out what to do about it.”

Ah. Just a general warning. That’s relieving.

“We’re still working out what kind of security measures to take, but we’re kind of leaning towards some way to, like… check people’s faces, I guess?” Jim went on. He saw the flicker of discomfort that crossed Angor’s face at that, and he was quick to add, “But, uh, we know it’d feel kind of invasive to have other people do that to each other all the time, so we’re thinking maybe something like…” He brought his hand to his own face, pushing along where he estimated a Glamour Mask could be pulled off. “Maybe a quick signal like that we could give each other, to show we’re not wearing a mask?”

“We’re thinking we’ll probably borrow one of Strickler’s or Nomura’s to test how easy it is to push one off like that.” Claire also mentioned. “Still figuring stuff out.”

“They’re not super hard to take off, so I think it’ll work out.” Toby knew from experience.

Angor Rot slowly nodded along as they spoke, with a slight frown still on his face. “And you don’t think that gesture will tip any spies off?”

“Eh... it might look kinda weird, yeah.” Jim admitted. “But we could brush it off like scratching an itch?”

“We’re all gonna have itches on our jawbones at the same time?” Toby snickered a bit.

Claire chuckled as well. “I mean, whatever way this goes, it’s going to look weird. But we don’t have a lot of options, here.”

It no longer came as a surprise how they’d manage to find mild humour in stressful situations. In a way, Angor had come to respect that quality about them.

Honestly, he wished he could be more concerned about the situation at hand, more helpful in some way. But he was still very distracted.

Angor glanced back at the house he had just exited, wondering how in the Darklands to deal with that mess he’d left behind.

#trollhunters #trollhunters fanfiction #angor rot #dictatious #jim #claire #toby #blinky #aaarrrgghh #how to fight a shadow #text post #goldie post #angor rot: hey dude are you okay #dictatious: *locks himself in the bathroom to have a panic attack* yeah lmao why wouldn't i b

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