#out away from the ever given that is blocking the entire fucking canal of the fandom

[lizhly-writes]

what if i suddenly started writing more svsss rarepair. like i know i've been on an inexplicable sqh/yqy kick, but what else would be good. what would be nice to see.

to be honest, i'm starting to get curious. i think i have a decent grip on SOME version of sqh (does he align with the text? unclear!!!), mostly because 1) there's a very specific interpretation of him i have that i look for in fanfic, and uh 2) also some version of the way i talk seems works out for writing his pov. but other characters... i'm less sure about them.

that said, i still wonder if i can successfully smash some svsss characters together. like dolls. like the burning creator's need to play barbie.

[rowan-torquill]

Another Fraxus Thing

Freed was shopping at the open air market for food for his teammates. Laxus went with Freed so that he wouldn't overexert himself as the Thunder God Tribe had just come back from a particularly difficult mission, and Freed had done slightly to much magic.

Freed was looking at the fruit as Evergreen had said something about craving chocolate and strawberries on the way back to Mangolia. Laxus, bored and wanting some meat, went further down the market to look at the prices of the usual and unusual meats. Unfortunately, when he did this, a young brunette solid script mage had recognized Freed and started a conversation on runes.

"Hey, you're Freed, 'the demon' aren't you. I love what you can do with your dark ecruíte." the twenty two year old commented.

"Yes... who are you" Freed asked, looking cautious.

"I'm Jax Wilde, I'm a solid script mage." He answered, smiling sunnily down at Freed,  who was a few inches shorter than the other.

Freed blinked in surprise, and though something seemed . . .  off about the other mage, but as nothing aggressive or untoward had happened, there was nothing Freed could do, though he realized that his feelings would likely start to catch Laxus's interest if they got stronger.

"Mmm," Freed mumbled as he tried to seperate himself from the other mage. "Interesting, I didn't notice any sort of guild mark on you, are you part  of a guild?"

"Ah, no I don't actually have a guild. I did join one for a bit, but it wasn't really for me." Jax replied leaning toward Freed, seemingly crowding, and towering over the other.

Laxus, having felt the quick instance of uncertainty, and having a general bad feeling quickly paid for what he had purchased and returned to Freed. He growled lowly at seeing his mate being cornered and intimidated by some sleazy brunet. His heart warmed slightly as he made eye contact with Freed over the others shoulder. Laxus noticed that Freed was curled in on himself, and curving his hands into claws, like a nervous animal. Seeing his mate so nervous had his dragon snarling, and he forced himself between the two.

"I would advise that you step the fuck away from my mate," Laxus grumbled, grabbing Freeds hand and lacing their fingers together. "Before I take your fucking head off, asshole."

"Okay, okay, I get it. Leave him alone." Jax huffed hands up, palms facing the pair. "Look I'm leaving. Sorry for the trouble or whatever."

After making sure that Jax had left, he turned to Freed, and sheepishly apologized.

"Shit, sorry wonder. I know that you don't really like it when I try to protect you like that. It's getting close to our anniversary, I think it may be causing my "dragon" to be more protective."

Freed sighed, and gave a quick squeeze to Laxus's hand, "I know, I can't really hold it against you either. He was creeping me out. C'mon, we really shouldn't keep Ever waiting much longer."

-- LD+FJ --

Laxus leaned onto the pillar that supported the upper level of the guilt hall. He smiled and huffed slightly as he let his gaze wander over his guildmates. He grinned and pushed of the pillar to walk over to Freed, who was leaning against the bar, talking to Mira. He hugged the shorter male from behind and placed his chin on the others head before grumbling out a question.

"Can I talk ta you treasure. Nothin bad, swear on my heart, just a question bout our anniversary."

Freed chuckled a little before moving his head to the side in an effort to get Laxus's head off his hair.

"Sure, let's go upstairs darling."

Freed grabbed one of Laxus's hands and gently pulled him towards the stairs to the upper level.

Once they reached the upper hall, and found a room that Freed then runed to be locked and soundproofed, he turned to his mate, and cocking his head to the side slightly, raised an eyebrow, smiling. Laxus chuckled before grabbing one of Freed's hands and playing sligtly with the others fingers, and asked,

" Do you wanna go with me to that nice, fancy new place along the canal? I woulda asked downstairs, but I know that all those dweebs woulda bothered us, and I didn't want to havta blast em."

Freed chuckled, and leaned forward to press a light kiss to Laxus's lips. Before pressing their foreheads together and whispering an affirmative, and just contentedly standing in his mates embrace.

-- LD+FJ --

Freed smiled and chuckled quietly as he watched Laxus from across the table. He and Laxus had been enjoying their night at the new restaurant that had opened in Magnolia. The two had just started their desserts, a chocolate cake for Freed, and a mixed berry pie with vanilla ice cream for Laxus, they shared the treats, and as Laxus paid, Freed said,

"This has been amazing Laxus. I know that this isn't really your style, and since you did this for me, why don't we go home, change into something different, and go to a club."

Laxus smiled, and tugged Freed along, the entire way back to the house. Freed, who had had his hair in a simple but elegant low ponytail, braided his hair, and changed into a pair of tight black pants, steel-toed combat boots, and a silky golden colored button up shirt. As a final touch, he put on a wide-ish leather choker, with a ring in the center. He walked into the hall, to see Laxus standing there in his purple shirt, tight pants, and boots like Freeds. He also had his fur lined coat draped across his shoulders. Freed smiled, stepped up beside the dragon slayer, and kissed his cheek before tugging the taller towards the door.

"C'mon, let's go have some fun!"

-- LD+FJ --

Freed laughed and sensually danced around Laxus, a bit buzzed from the drinks that he and his mate had shared. Freed chuckled again, before kissing Laxus quickly and leaving to go to the bathroom. As he entered he felt ... something, and he recognized what it was, but only when it was a moment to late, seeing the flash of runes appear from the corner of his eye. He tried not to panic as a gas appeared and he started to get light headed. As he stumbled and fell, he realized that he couldn't feel Laxus through their bond as well. He panicked as he realized that whatever the gas was, that it includes some sort of blocker for a mate bond. As he started to slide down the wall, passing out, the gas disappeared, and the runes released to allow him to quickly see the mage that he had been talking to earlier in the market.

"Hello Freed Justine," Jax said as he cupped the rune mages face, "you know, you really should learn to check your drink. You never know what could be in it. For example," He pulled out a mostly full vial, "someone could slip you some of this wonderful two-part bond suppressor. Of course, it would be useless anyway, as it doesn't do anything until it's introduced to the gas." He chuckled. "Well, I'm sorry about this, but ... you really should be careful about who you talk to."

-- LD+FJ --

Laxus walked off the dance floor, over to the bar, and waited for his mate to return. As he  swirled his drink, he realized that it was taking Freed just a bit to long, and decided to go check on him, especially when he realized that the feelings he was getting through the bond were unusually dulled. As he entered the bathroom, and realized that Freed was gone, his dragon snarled as it picked up the scent of the mage that had been intimidating it's mate earlier. He tried to quell the panic pooling in his heart, as he realised that someone had not only taken his mate, but that they had also blocked the bond the two shared.

He growled lowly, but left, and went to talk to a manager, his hands sparking slightly. Fortunately, there was no scent of his mates blood, which means he wasn't injured, unfortunately, that meant there was no solid way to track him as his scent would be all over Magnolia.

After seeing the head of security, and realizing that there was no clues, he left, and went back to the house. He then changed into a pair of sturdy pants, that wouldn't restrict his movement, and a sleeveless shirt. He decided to wearing his coat, but brought both his headphones and Freeds sword.

He contemplated just flashing to see his grandfather, and decided to save his energy, ran there instead. He told his grandfather what had happened, and was given permission to leave and look for his mate. He left the guild hall, and became to follow the faint scent of the other man out of Magnolia. He traced the scent to a small house in the mountains. As he approached, he had a harder and harder time holding his dragon at bay as he started to smell his mate. What truly made him lose control was the sharp pain that suddenly came through the mate bond as the blocker wore off with the distance he covered. His dragon took over with a snarl, wanting to destroy whatever had hurt his mate!!

He ran the rest of the way to the house before kicking the door open, startling the small group that had been sitting inside. They looked over at the doorway, only to pale as they saw the siloughette of the dragon slayer, with lightning arching off his body.

-- LD+FJ --

Freed slowly blinked his eyes open, realizing that he had a bad headache, and after remembering what had happened, tried to sit up. He realized he couldn't, as he was strapped to a table, seemingly underground. He realized that he could turn his head, but that was it, as he tried to look around, he realized that the straps holding him down where covered in magic dampening runes. He could feel his magic running under his skin, trying to get out, but being held back by the straps.

Crap, Freed thought.

His head jerked as he heard faint footsteps coming towards the room he was in, and then the door creak. He could feel his face turn into a snarl as he saw Jax along with someone in medical scrubs.

"Mm, so you're awake now, good, we were waiting to explain to you what we want, and why your here." Jax smiled and gestured to the other person, "See, the good doctor here has many theories that he'd like to figure out. Most have to do with either writing type magic, or dragon slayers. Yes, I know, a bit strange. However, as a rune mage, and the mate to an artificial dragon slayer, you may see why he was so interested in you."

Freed glared, but remains silent, waiting to see if the idiot in front of him would explain more or just leave, which would be, not ideal. Fortunately, luck was on his side.

"See, the main thing we want to know is what the differences between someone who uses dark rune magic, like yourself, and someone who uses light rune magic. Later we hope to obtain a grey rune magic user, but we will make due with what we can. And, if we can learn more about what being the mate of a dragon slayer entails, well that's just a bonus." Jax smiled coldly, before turning to the other man and said, "He's all yours." Then he left the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

Freed stayed silent throughout this interaction, as he could feel his bond with Laxus growing in strength. He realized that they still thought the bond was blocked, and he could feel it straining less, meaning that Laxus was nearing, wherever he was being held. He hoped that his mate would show up soon.

His attention was pulled back to the present, " Well, I don't suppose that you would tell us anything specific about our aims, would you?" Freed just glared. "No, I suppose that was to much to hope for." The other walked out of Freed's line of sight, and returned with a rolling cart full of various medical instruments. He gulped, closing his eyes, and resolving himself to not give his captor the pleasure of his screams.

-- LD+FJ --

Laxus snarled as he looked at the charred mages and men laying on the floor of the house before his head snapped up, feeling a spike of panic from his mate, before pain overwhelmed it. His dragon howled from inside, and he then followed his bond to a hidden door, which he just blasted open, a snarl on his face. He wanted to stomp down the staircase he found, but realized that that would alert his mates captors. So instead he slunk down the stairs, treading carefully, he reached the bottom after a couple minutes, and just as he realized how close he was to his mate, with the strength of the bond, he smelled the idiot who had tried to seperate them, and had brought his mate here to harm him. He snarled silently and snuck to the room that he could detect the scent from. He opened the door, and after see the source of the scent, his dragon took over and knoked the other unconscious before returning to the Hall and following his bond. He found the door, heavily locked, and etched with lightning impervious runes. He sighed, realizing that he couldn't blast this door open. His dragon however was tired of being away from its mate, it took over, and just ripped the door off its hinges. He roared once he realized that his mate was not only strapped down to a table, and that the straps and table had magic dampening runes etched into them, but that someone else had stripped Freed if most if his clothes, and was actually taking samples, as if Freed was some sort of lab experiment. Luckily, the roar had an extra concussive blast that knocked the other man in scrubs out. Laxus was suddenly standing over his mate, in control of his body, and his dragon stayed back to look out for enemies.

"Freed? Freed, treasure, please say somthin'! Please, treasure." He was desperately repeating this as he carefully unstrapped Freed and wrapped him in his own long, fur-lined coat. He scooped up the tired, bearly responsive mage, and carried him upstairs to a couch the miraculously survived the earlier fight. He was about to storm back down the stairs, when a hand caught his.

"'Axus?" He whipped around, and looked down at his hurt mate, and softened his expression as he saw blue green eyes looking at him blearily.

"Ya, treasure?" He murmured.

"Stay, pleze?"

He sighed, but couldn't refuse his mate anything, so decides to sit down and scoop his mate into his arms, Freed sighed, and relaxed into his chest. "Thnk you."

"Not a problem treasure." He murmured, keeping an ear out, just incase one of the two idiots down stairs came looking to see what had happened to them, and their captive. There was always time for revenge later.

[littlelllusionmachine]

I think the last time I was genuinely happy was the first two years of my college experience, which puts us at about 2007-2009. 

When I was a kid, it was a rare treat to see my father. He worked in Manhattan, which, for being all of 12 miles away, may as well have been a different world. He worked long hours and more often than not he’d get more sleep if he just stayed at his office and slept rather than coming home. So, for the duration of whatever film they were either filming or editing in post, there’d be long stretches when I wouldn’t see him. 

He’d have the occasional weekend where he’d come home. Maybe I’d be off from school the next day. I don’t remember the specifics as this was the early-mid 90s. On these occasions, when he had to just drop off a drive or whatever, he’d ask me if I wanted to come to work with him. I’d always say yes, because it seemed very exciting to me - being on film sets, potentially meeting famous actors, getting to know the industry. I decided fairly early on I wanted to be part of it. 

After what seemed like hours - it was always dark when we left - we’d go home. I want to say it was around midnight - at least it felt that way to me, who was no older than 8. As we reach the bridge, he says to me on one specific ride home; “Look at it. It’s kind of like a jewelry box, right? Do you see how it sparkles?” He was talking about the buildings abutting the west side highway - and the entirety of the New York City skyline as we drove further on. It stuck with me. One of those things, a really great day - in spite of me having no recollection at all of what we did - and that one comment he made while I was in a semi-conscious stupor. 

I always wanted to go back to the city. It was where I was born, where I had friends at one point - there was nothing bad associated with it.  Being asked if I wanted to drop a reel off to someone was like being asked if I wanted to go to an amusement park. When I got to high school I took a film class and one of the projects was to film a music video set to a song of your choice. I had no friends at the time, so was at a shortage of actors -- simple solution; go to Manhattan, film from this incredible wealth of people going on with their lives. This was in a freshly post-9/11 world, so things weren’t quite the same as I remembered. . Police presence in the Port Authority. Things like that. But people continued with their humdrum day to day routine like it was nothing. I was envious of it. I did the video to Eleanor Rigby by the Beatles. 

When it came to selecting a college, I had two options: A local school, which was considered very good, or an art school in Manhattan - also very good, but 20k more than the other school per semester. I put a 500$ deposit down on the local school before deciding last minute I’d continue to be unhappy if I went there. I still, to this day, with over 10k left on my loans, believe I made the right choice. I don’t think I’d be alive if I went to the other school. 

I took the bus into the city. The bus goes on these couple-story-high ramps before stopping to let people off into the port authority. You get a good view of 9th avenue and some other areas, consequently ----  . . . The first month, going in to school, equally as tired as I was when I was a kid (It was, on some days, 7 in the morning. . )  . . I had one thought; it’s beautiful. The same as that jewelry box. No longer lit up, no longer sparkling like diamonds, but retaining that same ‘magical’ aura. This feeling faded over time, but even now, looking down on those streets, I have to smile to myself a bit. 

My mother has always been overprotective. When it was finally time to go to school that first year I was given a strict set of instructions to follow: take this bus, go on this train, transfer to this one, and walk this way. Do not look at the map under any circumstances or they’ll know you don’t belong. We ran through it the week prior to the first week of school together. On the first day I called to say I had forgotten everything, though I had figured it out. I don’t think she was pleased with me. 

I continued to do this for a few weeks before realizing I could walk the two miles faster than the subway could take me, so, I started to do it. I felt good, walking. Exploring. If I had time I’d take a different street. In the two miles you go through all kinds of neighbourhoods. One street could mean the difference between a “bad” and “good” area. I wanted to see them all. 

She came to accept this, but not before giving a warning: Don’t go to the Bronx. Don’t go too far uptown. That kind of thing. 

By my third year I had explored Harlem. I explored some of the area of the Bronx by the zoo. I got yelled at for both. I have walked from the southernmost point to the northernmost in all my travels. Last month I explored the Bronx further. I got another concerned lecture. I am 10+ years an adult. 

What does any of this have to do with the song above?

I had a playlist, which exists to this day (in a slightly different incarnation) entitled “For Subway/Walking”. Songs I enjoyed that had a nice beat to walk to, that’d keep me entertained. Simple. This song was one of the many on it.

Early on in my travels I discovered the Chelsea Hotel:

Which has an entirely different aura from the rest of the city. It’s huge, daunting - doesn’t really seem to belong where it is. There’s a pharmacy and a gym like a block away. Nothing makes sense in the area, but the hotel is a bit of a landmark. It’s one of those things that are so seemingly out of place, it’s like if you walk in through the doors there’ll be a whole new dimension to explore. I never went in, though I’d go out of my way to walk past the hotel every time I had a class on the west side. On certain days it’d look slightly different - not sure if it was how the sun lit it up, the general ‘feel’ of the area that day or what. . I took pictures every now and then, often looking the same, but I just had a need to keep that days memory in some kind of archive. 

The Chelsea Hotel has been the home to many celebrities over the years. Ginsberg resided there. Once there was a banner hanging out of one of the windows asking to “bring back the poets” - I snapped a photo of that. 2001: A Space Oddity was written in those walls. Nancy Spungen was killed there. There’s just such a rich history to it. There’s an entire section on wikipedia about the notable residents. 

It’s also a hotel where the Libertines recorded some music, The Babyshambles Sessions, in New York. 

I have a couple memories, listening to my playlist while walking past that hotel. . . Nothing specific, just walking - listening to the songs. Especially the one up above. And it’s some of the best memories of my life. I was finally where I wanted to be, listening to music that made me feel good, by a beautiful building where the band members once stood. I didn’t really pay much attention to the lyrics, it was more about a mood and it served its purpose. 

Which is ironic, because the song is about. . . 

. . . .”Carl once said to Pete "its either the top of the world or the bottom of the canal" - he had a big fear of wasting his life and ending up eating cold beans out of a tin and watching daytime telly on a fuzzy TV - they grew to call this concept 'death on the stairs' - the miserable state that some people become, and that’s what this song is about.”

That’s exactly where I fucking am. I discovered grubhub and the allure of not having to cook or do anything for myself without the “risk” of using a phone and placing an order. I work, I work my second job, and I watch late night cartoons and occasionally fall asleep on the sofa. Sometimes I work, then immediately come home and go to sleep in spite of it being like 6p. 

I never intended on living this long, so that was never a fear of mine. I had this premonition my entire life, like every since I decided I wanted to do something in the art field. I’d get my job, be miserable doing it, and eventually give myself alcohol poisoning before dying in some bar or in the street at 3 am between the ages of 26 and 27. So I never planned past that point. 

Here I am, never once getting a job in my field of choice to be miserable doing as to be the catalyst for my eventual death. I am older than 27. I am working, at least the one job, at the same place I have been working since 2010 -- a job I only got so I could afford the bus/subway to get into the city in the first place. And I am still miserable, but I am not even allowed that (dare I say? ) romanticized artists death. 

This is Death on the Stairs. I have managed to corrupt one of my last happy memories.

Now my parents are planning on moving. My dad is no longer in the film industry so there’s no reason to be paying the ridiculous taxes and fees involved with being in a suburb of the city. Everything is cheaper out west. Unfortunately, so is the scope of the people’s world --- I asked a realtor how to get to the city with public transportation and he stated he wasn’t fully sure. 

I don’t have anywhere to return to. The last time I was in the city, a guy in a ski mask was waiting on the subway platform. He got very close to my face and it scared the fuck out of me. I no longer travel with a knife or anything like that since one of them was confiscated from me years ago (again, post 9/11 world) -- it was just one of those things, as I’m recalling my mother; don’t go here, here, or there . . . you don’t belong. It was the first time I even had the thought that maybe she was right. And that was terrifying since that’s the only place I ever felt like I did belong. And even then, it was the anonymity that drew me to it. Nobody cares about you and. . . you’re not going to care about anybody. And even there, I felt, while on that platform, I didn’t belong. I did not tell her about this incident. 

I don’t want to move. I don’t want to let go of this thought; maybe I will be happy. Maybe I can get over the crippling social anxiety. Maybe I can find the time to sit down, assemble a portfolio, and put myself out there. Maybe I can get a job doing something I love. Maybe I can earn enough so I can get to a point where my parents won’t be scared shitless about my future; how I can’t support myself. How I don’t seem to have any aspirations. How I just don’t belong. The truth is I never belonged here, either - that’s what made New York so alluring to me in the first place. Now I am losing everything. 

I have been thinking a lot about killing myself lately. It’s not that I have any plans to go through with it, and I am not saying this as a desperate act of ‘I need help/attention’ or ‘Call someone’ -- nothing like that, no. On the contrary.  It’s just something that has been at the back of my mind. It’s hard going through the day when you’re being instructed to just go fuck off. Just die or something. My only solace is that my view is already from the bottom of that canal and all I can see is the lingering silhouette of the Chelsea. But it’s getting further away. Regardless, I suppose up is the only way to go --

And in the interim, it’s nice to reflect on those moments of happiness. Even if they are so far out of reach. 

[quietpagan]

TH What Falls and What Grows ch. 14

What falls and what grows,

What reaps and what sows,

Cares nothing for beauty or bane;

In changing field,

The flower must yield,

And the weed will grow in again.

  The three of them just stared at each other for a few moments, Draal’s shoulders tensing as Blinky ogled at the felines.

“They, erm…like me,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh my God…”                                            

He looked bad, but better than when she’d kicked him out. The arm and eye she’d turned to stone during their duel were almost completely healed, to the point where he only had a few stiff fingertips. His torn nose hadn’t finished, but that hadn’t stopped him from putting a bent piece of rebar through the damaged tissue anyway. When he stood he stood tall, without any stoop or limp, and Alex was actually relieved to see him well. Filthy, but well.

He’d made efforts to keep himself clean, but he was in the human underground, not the troll tunnels, and sometimes mere effort just wasn’t enough.

“You realize where you’ve been living,” she asked. A bit of damp grime unattached itself from the ceiling and splattered on her shoulder. “I do have a sense of smell, Trollhunter.” “Yes, and so do we. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. We can’t stay here long.”

Draal followed behind her and a bemused, somewhat unhappy Blinky with little complaint. Honestly, he just looked happy to see someone who wasn’t a cat.

“I doubt I would receive a hearty welcome home, Trollhunter,” Draal murmured as they walked, his strays trailing behind him like a parade. “Take care to remember that I was banished.”

“It was more like unofficially ostracized. There was no actual banishment or casting-out,” Alex said. She took point, looking around each corner before going forward as Draal pointed out which tunnels to take. “It is tradition.” “It was implied. You can come back at any time.” “They will not be happy about this,” Draal murmured mournfully.

“I have a big sword,” Alexandra replied. Blinky, at her side, looked mildly worried.

“He does have a point, Master Alexandra,” he said quietly, turning to her to try and block Draal out.

“No matter his state, he was dishonored, and thus is unable to return without having earned it.” Alexandra snarled at him in demonstration.

“I also have pointy teeth.”

“And they are very menacing, yes, but you can’t just start swinging fist and foot at all who disagree with you! You are a part of our Heartstone now, a member of our collective tribes, which means that you have to follow the rules that our society dictates! Just because you are the Trollhunter does not give you the right to go gallivanting about, doing whatever you want!” His tirade stopped when he noticed her grinning. “And what, precisely, has you so amused!” Alex laughed, the sound echoing in the damp tunnels.

“I was wondering when you would start yelling at me again,” she said, to his astonishment. Up ahead of them, the tunnel brightened. “You’ve been tiptoeing ever since the whole ‘Changeling’ misunderstanding. I forgave you for that a while ago – I was just waiting for you to accept it.”

Blinky sputtered and blushed, as she knew he would, when they stepped through the torn grate and out of the tunnel.

Alexandra went first, watching the underside of the bridge for any unpleasant visitors. She hated this place now.

Mid-afternoon was raging above them, the noise of cars and their radios echoing inside the canal. Traversing the canal in broad daylight was a fantastically bad idea, given the likelihood of being seen by the humans on the bridge, but they were running out of options. Sunset was hours away, and the sewers were completely unsafe.

Several of the cats that trailed behind Draal spread out, wandering around the edges of the canal.

“Hold on,” said Draal to Blinky, behind her. “You knew she was a Changeling too?” “I was grossly mistaken,” whispered Blinky morosely. “I accused her of such in front of the entire market, to my eternal embarrassment and shame. She proved me both a liar and a fool and wait just one blasted minute, what do you mean ‘too’?! You thought she was a Changeling?” Alexandra’s hair stood up, but she couldn’t tell if it was from the conversation or if she felt someone watching them. The underside of the bridge looked empty, but she knew Bular to be adept at keeping himself unseen. There were also goblins and other Changelings to worry about. She didn’t like the feel of this.

I hate this fucking bridge.

“Is she not?” “Of course not!” Blinky fervently hissed. “I made a humiliating miscalculation, and she proved it with a gaggletack, even! But if you suspected the same thing, why did you not come forward?” Alexandra didn’t hear an answer, meaning that Draal must have merely gestured. She wanted to focus on the conversation but couldn’t, and she turned around with a last, suspicious glance.

“I’ve got a bad feeling,” she said, interrupting the two. “Do you want to risk it, or head back?”

“I would like to get out of this blasted tunnel sometime today,” said Blinky. “This is an…uneasy place, however.” “I cannot go back,” said Draal, gesturing to the other end of the bridge. Alexandra smacked him on the arm, and then wiped her hand on her vest.

“You can stay by the staircase until I can sneak you in,” she said, “But I’m not just going to leave you here.” Draal looked mildly stunned, but Blinky was smiling.

“I can take care of myself, Trollhunter,” said the larger troll.

“But my being Trollhunter means that you don’t have to,” she replied quietly. Draal shifted uncomfortably.

Softy, from the darker end of the tunnel, the faintest, slowest “Waka chaka…” echoed from the gloom.

All three of them stiffened. Alexandra grabbed their arms with her four, and gently pushed them out of the grate.

The goblin down the tunnel looked to be alone, so far, and was watching her curiously. She kept eye contact with it as she backed through the bent bars, not looking away until the others caught her, preventing her from walking backwards into a ray of sunlight.

The shadow of the bridge bowed somewhat from the movement of the sun, and they walked completely silently along the darkened line. Perhaps, if they could get to the other side without triggering the goblins’ ire, they might make it without a fight. They just needed to stay quiet and slow.

All of the cats scattered suddenly, every one of them bolting away from the group and out of the canal, and Alexandra knew…

…’By the pricking of my thumbs’…

…that they were about to get their asses beat.

“RUN!”

Draal caught the horngazel as she pushed it into his hands.

“You’re the fastest, get that portal open NOW!”

He loped away, leaving her and Blinky to trail after him with their stupidly short legs.

Above them, laughter rang.

“Do you just hang around there all day, waiting for someone to come out?”

Bular landed on the concrete with a resounding CRACK, the ground sending up little shards. Alex summoned her sword and chipped off a piece of his arm before he could draw his own weapon, and then booked it as fast as she could away from him, teleporting just a few feet ahead.

Better prepared as she was, she still didn’t want to risk Blinky and Draal’s lives by engaging and possibly dying in a fight.

Bular easily caught up with her, however fast she ran, and he slammed his head into her side, chucking her a good fifteen feet across the shadow. Glow from the armor trailed after her but she could feel the puncture from his horns, and it bled alarmingly across the concrete. Her bottom left shoulder wrenched as she landed badly, and only Draal’s alarmed bellow saved her from getting her head caved in when Bular tried to jump her. She twisted her sword up at the last second and he fell heavily upon it, the blade piercing his hip.

It was odd, how sunstaining smelled. It was slow, like burning dust in an old heater, but although it lacked the decay of flesh it still smelled dead.

The leathers Bular wore protected him from being sliced in half, but his scream of anguish echoed across the canal, and as he fell to the ground his right leg and half his hip and tail turned to stone. Alexandra was too busy trying to stop her own bleeding to celebrate the hit. The adrenalin and pain were making things too fast and too shaky. She smelled blood and it made her heart race sickeningly.

“Trollhunter! Here,” Draal yelled, a bright blue light behind him indicating the opening of the portal. Flashes of green and rough, deep shrieks told her more than she needed to know about how many goblins there really were, and all of them were trying to get through the door.

Bular twisted and grabbed her foot as she tried to run, pulling her over his jagged body to slam against the ground on his other side. She pushed her foot against his face and got a foot full of screaming teeth for her effort, even if she was able to push herself away. Bular levered himself to standing, using one of his swords as a cane, the other no less deadly for the shaking hand that held it.

Alexandra scrambled to her feet and watched his eyes.

At the end of the canal, a flash of blue caught her gaze and she pulled off her helmet, throwing it as hard as she could at Draal, who was coming to help her. It caught him on the collarbone and she held out a hand.

“Don’t,” she said quietly, knowing that Draal would hear her.

“You’re still injured and I need you to go home,” she hissed. “Please keep the portal open, and don’t let anything else in!”

Out of her periphery, the blue mass that was Draal backed up and kicked an invading goblin into the wall, leaving a smear of green. He and Blinky settled firmly against the open portal, slapping away goblins, and she turned all three eyes back on Bular.

The shadow of the bridge had lengthened with the late sun to where she could not dart around Bular without him reaching her, even with his injury.

Six feet to the left, sunlight shimmered with heat.

If I tackle him, I can get him into the sun, she thought, shifting her feet uneasily as Bular carefully watched her movements. He was being curiously and disturbingly silent.

Blinky know I’ve got the Leoht Stone, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine! Maximum effort!

Alexandra ground her feet into the concrete and launched herself at the son of Gunmar, slashing at his face so that he was forced to lean backward and unbalance himself. She tackled him around the middle and the weight of her threw him across the shadow. She thought that she was succeeding, until his arms grabbed her around the middle and suddenly they weren’t so much being pushed by her tackle as falling, directly down onto the concrete. He used her momentum to fling her over his head, and she desperately dug her sword into the ground to keep from rolling backward. She skid to a jolting stop just inside of the shadow.

Bular flipped onto his stomach and pushed himself up with a snarl. He began to lever himself up again, and then stopped, his eyes focused on her right leg. She glanced back at it with a single eye.

The heel was in the sun. And Bular didn’t know about the stone!

With a panicked yell Alexandra summoned her sword and threw it at Bular’s face, rolling toward him in time to catch the hilt as he knocked it away with a shake of his horned head. He grabbed her by her own horns and slammed her face into the concrete. The smells of cement and aggregate and flood residue mixed with stinging blood in her nose and the sudden welling of tears, the sense curiously heightened as the ground eight inches in front of her face blurred dizzingly.

Bular leaned down, using the side of her head to balance himself, and the acrid smell of old blood and digested flesh spread over her face in a warm, close gust.

“I. Saw,” he whispered in her ear.

Utterly immobilized beneath his immense weight, her helmet shivered and screeched as Bular’s claws dug into it.

“I’m half tempted to let you go, just to watch you die by those you’re sworn to protect.”

“How chivalrous,” Alex muttered, the words muffled with half her mouth ground into the dirty concrete. Out of the corner of one eye, Blinky and Draal were occupied with the invading horde of goblins.

Hell with it.

She half-transformed her head and body. Bular was thrown off balance by the sudden lack of horns beneath his hand and he fell for half a second, and that was all she needed. Body made smaller for a critical instant, she pulled her legs over her stomach and shoved them into his abdomen, turning back fully and levering his body off of her.

But even half stone-turned and slower he was massive, and he lashed out with one foot as she tried to scramble away from him.

The heel connected with her injured side, and in a panic Alexandra teleported.

She landed ten feet in the wrong direction, and sunlight blinded her.

Whoops-a-fucking-daisy was the only thought that crossed through her mind.

The sunlight beat down on her troll skin for the first time in years. Her body was warring with her, it knew that despite its immunity it shouldn’t be in the sun, and she fought the instinctive urge to turn to her human form, but –

- Blinky and ­­­­Draal were just in the shadows, staring at her with open mouths, and never had the heat of the sun felt so cold. She was well aware that Blinky knew about the Leoht Stone, but…still. She knew the stone was a lie, even if he didn’t, and never had she intended him or anyone to see her like this.

Back in the shadow, Bular chuckled. Alexandra trembled as he murmured the word she had always hated; the word she trained herself not to flinch at; that motherfucking word that she had not been called by anyone still alive in over fifty years:

“Impure.”

She almost threw up with the beating of her heart so hard in her throat, but as Bular laughed she drew herself up, brushed off her armor, shouldered her sword, and walked calmly in the sunlight away from his stricken form. He made no effort to follow her; the sound of his laughter was enough to dog her footsteps. But where she walked he could not follow, and his eyes burned as they watched her. She’d injured him the worse, but he’d won this fight.

Blinky and Draal both drew away from her when she re-entered the shadow, as if they were expecting her to turn to stone then and there. Alexandra winked at Blinky and stepped through the portal, and was shut back into safety.

Her skin was still warm from the sun. Blood and pain were still pulsing from the wounds on her side and face and bitten foot, and she slid down the wall with a groan.

“I love Sigrid the Shadowless,” she murmured to her knees. “Good work with the goblins, gentlemen.”

“A most fortuitous choice of gem,” said Blinky faintly. When Alex looked she saw that he was actually a bit pale, on the bits that weren’t smeared with green gore.

Alex laughed and nodded.

“I’m not quite ready to spend eternity with those ghostly assholes,” she said, clutching at her side as she banished the armor. Draal knelt beside her and poked at her abdomen.

“We need to take you to Vendel,” he said. “Although…does he know?” Alexandra, who suddenly found herself having difficulty staying awake, forced herself to rouse.

“Hmm? Know ‘bout what?” “That you are a Changeling, Trollhunter. Are we really not talking about this?” Alex pushed herself up with a groan.

“Draal, I’m not a Changeling,” she said firmly, banishing the armor and unlocking the back of the amulet. Her fingers fumbled as she pried the Leoht Stone out of the casing but she managed to shove it underneath Draal’s ridiculous rebar hoop.

“This stone belonged to the Trollhunter Sigrid the Shadowless, and it grants the user the ability to walk in daylight. I’d say it was pretty useful. Help me up.”

Alex pushed her arm against Draal’s chest, forcing him to grab it and pull her to her feet, where she actually swayed.

Blinky swooped into action, activating the crystal staircase and hopping down them as quickly as he could.

“Draal is correct that you need medical attention, Master Alexandra. Wait right there, please, I shall fetch AAARRRGGHH…”

Alex ignored him and started down the stairs, leaving smears of blood on the glowing crystals.

A trickle of blood tickled the back of her throat and she coughed. Damn, her nose was broken again.

The loud echo seemed to loosen Draal’s tongue, at least. Alex had wondered vaguely how long he could stay quiet.

“Why did you lie to Blinky,” Draal said as he helped her over the wider gaps in the stairs. She hopped a little on her unbitten foot and glared at him.

“I didn’t lie,” she said calmly. “I’m not a Changeling.”

“I once had an understanding with an Impure,” he returned. “I recognized your scent, eventually, and your habits.”

Alexandra stopped, and so did he, and he backed up when she turned to him with glowing eyes.

She wanted to throw Draal against the wall and threaten to remove a limb, for calling her that – but it would do no good. Her heart wasn’t into threatening someone she finally would admit to considering a friend, and she knew that being as monstrous and violent as possible, although it was significantly easier, was not a better alternative to actually being open and honest for once.

Her fists clenched, but she did not draw her sword.

“Don’t call us that again,” she said quietly. “I honestly don’t care what you think of Changelings, personally or in general, but don’t call us that again. There is nothing about me that is impure.”

She grabbed Draal’s filthy arm again to see what he would do, and when he didn’t flinch or back away further she leaned on him again.

“Why didn’t you tell Blinky,” she whispered.

“I…I spent many long days pondering what to do, when I realized what you are. You were chosen by the same amulet that chose my father, and which had refused me. You spared my life, and saved it again today. Whatever you may be I believe you have earned your right to be here, and to have your secrets.”

Alex nearly wanted to cry.

“Damn straight I have,” she murmured furiously. “I guess this means I won’t have to threaten you with decapitation?” The giant blue idiot’s laughter shook the crystal stairs, just as AAARRRGGHH and Blinky reached the bottom and began to climb.

“If it would make you feel better, Trollhunter,” he said. Alex let go of his arm and allowed AAARRRGGHH to pick her up like some blood-smeared, eight-foot baby.

What an asshole.

 Vendel was not amused to have a bleeding Trollhunter brought inside the Heartstone, and even less amused to hear about the Bridge. Blinky filled him and AAARRRGGHH in on what had happened as AAARRRGGHH placed Alexandra down on a stone table.

Vendel moved aside a few odd-looking bits of his work and held an old eyeglass up to Alexandra’s side, peeling back the edges of her blood-sodden vest to see the puncture. After a brief glance he set his staff against the table and moved forward for a closer look.

“Were you even wearing your armor,” he mumbled grumpily. Alexandra hissed as he poked at the hole.

“As a matter of fact I was, but Bular decided that my stomach was a good spot to smash his face into.”

“Hmph. I am waiting for the day I hear that you have gone the same way as poor Unkar the Unfortunate. You certainly seem to encounter Bular enough to make it a distinct possibility. Disrobe.”

“What can I say,” Alexandra croaked, sitting up with difficulty and trying to get her wrenched arm out of her vest. “I’ve always had a thing for tall, dark, and murderous.”

Vendel put a massive hand to her back to balance her, and rolled his eyes.

“Deya save us from a Trollhunter with a sense of humor,” he said. Alex dropped her vest on the floor and he lay her back down.  

He worked in silence from that point, save for the occasional mumble, and Alexandra did not dare relax. Finally laying down was tricking her brain into thinking that it was time to actually sleep for once, and she needed to be alert for the right moment to make her escape. Getting medical attention from someone who knew what he was doing, instead of buying a poultice or a healing crystal at a stall and hoping that it would be enough, was great, but not when Vendel was suddenly perfectly in place to see how quickly troll medicines worked on her Changed physiology. She couldn’t relax, not now. Draal was still waiting at the portal entrance, and she needed to get out before Vendel wondered why her skin was healing so much faster than it was supposed to.

He made sure that her shoulder wasn’t dislocated and set her nose back to its usual crooked place, but otherwise paid closest attention to the puncture on her side. After an agonizingly long time, Vendel declared the wound too shallow to have missed anything more than muscle and fatty tissue, and he slathered something tingly over it.

“How long have I got. Be honest.”

The old troll snorted as he wiped his hands.

“With any luck, several centuries more,” he said, surprisingly softly. “With each battle you make you seem to strike a crippling blow. Perhaps next time you’ll actually kill the vicious brute.” “’Thought you didn’t ask me to kill Bular,” Alex murmured. Vendel shook his head and walked over to the side of the cavern.

“It seems that I do not need to, Trollhunter,” he said. “By yourself you’ve come closer to it than most of your predecessors.”

He put a hand to the wall of the Heartstone and bent his head. After a moment of silence, a tiny chuck of yellow crystal broke off of the wall to his left, and he deftly caught it.

Alexandra stared with wide eyes as he walked back to her and pressed the crystal shard, as wide as her hand was long, against her side.

“What did you just do,” she asked. Vendel used his staff to pick her filthy vest off of the floor.

“The Heartstone shares its essence with us,” he said, “and on occasion will also share pieces of itself to hasten a troll’s recovery from sickness or injury. Keep that on your side, and hopefully I will not have to see you in here anytime soon.”

Alex was just glad that she was allowed to leave so soon, but he stopped her with a sharp tap on the shin.

“Don’t move,” he said grumpily. “There are a few medicines I have to give you, and I’ll have AAARRRGGHH take you back to your chambers. The less you move, the better.”

Alexandra innocently languished on the stone table while he slowly stomped away, and when he was finished packing her a medicine bag she swung her legs over the table and hopped off, failing to bite back an anguished yelp but managing to snatch the bag from Vendel’s hand and book it to the exit.

“Trollhunter, get back here!” Alex gimped away as fast as she could.

“Thanks, I feel great!”

She heard Vendel mutter something angrily, his staff thunking against the floor, but he did not pursue her.

“Then I will heavily advise you to not walk until tomorrow morning, at the earliest, for all that I expect you will listen to me.”

“Of course, but I’ve still got to go fetch Draal,” she said, the door closing behind her just as she heard a startled yelp.

“What?!”

  Alexandra could have said a lot about the troll equivalent of twiddling their thumbs, when she laboriously climbed up the stairs to find Draal balancing bits of rocks and crystals into little stacks, but for the lost look on his face she said nothing except an order to carry her back down.

The market wasn’t as empty as she would have liked when they entered, and enough trolls were out and about to notice Draal the Destroyer’s homecoming. She’d made Draal put her down, not wanting to be carried in plain sight for the second time that night, and her slow, painful pace hampered their progress.

“What is he doing here,” said a one-eyed troll. Alexandra shooed Draal past him and elbowed aside another who was in their way.

“He’s here because I asked him to come back, and you don’t actually need to be assholes about it,” she said firmly, making a few members of the crowd tut disapprovingly.

“Everybody have a good evening,” Alexandra yelled, glaring at the trolls in their way until they backed down. She slowly led Draal through the marketplace and into the residential quarters, where he picked her up again without her needing to ask.

Her rooms smelled better, at least, since she’d gotten the gnome to start taking out the mess that the cats made. He still lived in a hole in the wall of her bathroom, but enjoyed the wrappings of whatever foods she’d bought over the day, and the cats had learned not to try any play with him lest they get a tiny, painful bite on whatever offending foot tried to bat at him. She saw him skitter back into his hole as Draal set her down and closed the door.

“Just stay here,” she said, gently shooing two cats away with her foot. The felines clearly recognized Draal as the person who had brought them to Alexandra, and they crowded around him. “Your old place was taken over, I already asked. Unless you’d like to stay in your father’s rooms?” Draal, knuckling a happy cat on the head, murmured a negative.

“I have not visited those rooms in years,” he said quietly. “It would not feel right, even now that he is gone.”

Your father sucked as a dad, Alex thought, resolving to bring some of her cats over to Kanjigar’s place just so that they could shit on his floor.

“I’ll take his room,” she said instead. “Everyone will be expecting you to stay there, not here. I’m still picking through his library, anyway.”

“You are bleeding on my floor, then, Trollhunter,” said Draal with a faint smile. Alex picked up her bitten foot, examining the tiny smear of blood that came from the toes.

“It adds to the décor,” she said. Draal snorted and lightly shoved her; the strength of the blow sent her tumbling roughly onto the nest. She kicked Draal in the leg when he sat next to her and grabbed her coddled-together medical kit from the floor. The brief, vaguely fond exchange was almost too friendly for Alexandra’s comfort, too close, too familiar – but in all honesty she didn’t have the energy or the heart to keep more of a distance.

Bloodied vest and pants were added to the pile of leathers on the nest, and he dabbed a sweet-smelling tincture over the ragged puncture in her side. The fragment of Heartstone that Vendel had given her was applied to the wound.

“Hold it there.”

Alexandra patiently held still as he tended to her wounds, feeling the aches in her body slowly build up as she allowed her muscles to finally relax. The tension that seemed to hold her upright fled, and every hit and bruise made itself known.

Alex almost fell asleep while Draal was wrapping up her foot; she awoke to find herself slathered in poultices and ointments, with a fluffy black cat curling up between her left horn and her cheek and Draal settling in behind her.

“Should call yourself ‘Draal the Cuddlebug’,” she mumbled sleepily. A crystal-laden arm slid under her back and pulled her onto her side, just as the other one crawled over her torso and pushed her back against his chest.

“No. No. You have your own bed now, let me go.”

Something that felt like a face pushed into the back of her head, and she summoned her helmet just to spite him, moving her head so that her back horns poked him in the cheek.

“Get your goddamn rebar out of my fucking hair, you jackass.”

“You are welcome to leave, Trollhunter,” Draal murmured. His arms loosened enough that she could wiggle out without difficulty.

“I don’t want to exacerbate my injuries,” Alex said. She was seriously enjoying the warmth that he gave off, especially since she was still undressed and chilly from the poultices.

“Good excuse.” “Shut up and go to sleep.”

  A/N: Bitch you thought. I thought. We all thought. I’ve got the original chapter where she really did admit to being a Changeling stored and I’ll post it after a bit as a ‘what-if’ chapter, but after much deliberation it would have complicated the story too much at this time of the telling. Usurna and the Tribunal would have been alerted and Alex doesn’t have enough support within Trollmarket for that kind of reveal yet. Also, making her trust Blinky and Draal with something so close to the chest after she’s only just started to open up didn’t really rub me right for her character. She’s been secretive and reticent about getting that close to people for decades and she’s not going to change that in just a month or so without some serious character development and friend-making.

AHHAH HAH YAASS I LOVE fight scenes and I’ve been hoarding this scene for months.

What Blinky doesn’t know, and wasn’t around to witness first-hand, was that the stone of Sigrid the Shadowless doesn’t make a troll immune to sunlight, but turns them human temporarily (in my headcanon). Vendel knows this, at least, but fortunately he wasn’t around for this fight.

I don’t think that the Gumm-Gumms in the actual armies had much to do with the Changeling spies, so after so many centuries I doubt that AAARRRGGHH would have recognized her scent. But Draal damn dated a Changeling, so he’d recognize her scent after a while, especially since he was living with her after their fight. I’ll also make mention that she doesn’t smell exactly like a Changeling anymore, and you’ll see why in the next chapters. She’s funky smelling if you really concentrate, mostly troll but with a little Changeling mixed in.

For Deya’s origins I looked up the Welsh legends of Changelings and edited a little bit. It’s actually quite fascinating. And did you know that there’s a place in Cornwall called Mên-an-Tol that has a circular rock and a legend of getting your real baby back if you passed the Changeling kid through the hole? I’m not kidding.

And we’re back to grumpy cuddles. This will not be an Alex/Draal fic, I think, it’s just platonic cuddles. Alex would probably jump him if he asked, but she’s got enough on her plate without worrying about a whole relationship on top of everything else. Both of these assholes are a bit starved for physical affection at the moment and will get a little cuddly and close, but I’m not really feeling a whole relationship here. I’m not making nudity a bit problem for Alex; she’s never been shy about her body and I don’t think she connects completely with her troll form yet.