Finding Home Again - A Trollhunters story

Chapter Sixteen - King?

   For many living in southern Colorado, it was a peaceful, boring night, very calm and uneventful.

   For one person, much less so. He struggled under the gloved hand of his attacker, hitting anywhere he could, desperate to get free. The attacker gripped him tighter, his strong arms tight around him.

   The man tensed, then whipped his arms out hard, bashing the attacker's arms off him. He ran a few metres away from the attacker and watched as he stumbled back, surprised.

   "Where are our men? I know you were spying!" The attacker shouted. Even if there was light, his face would be shrouded in darkness, covered in a mask.

   Confused about the first part and shocked about the second, the man who'd been attacked threw up his hands. "I don't know what you're talking about! If this is about one of your little gang minions, I don't know! What the hell, man!"

   The attacker lowered his fists at the faked obliviousness, but kept them clenched in front of him. "Two of our men went missing last week. Haven't heard from them since. Where are they?"

   "Ugh..." The first man rubbed his cheek with his hand frustratedly. "What the hell, man. I. Don't. I thought there was a peace treaty signed a while ago that was holdin' up."

   "Don't bullshit me," The attacker said. "I know where your family lives. If you don't tell me everything you know now, I will go after them."

   "I don't have a family, dipshit!"

   They were both silent for a second. The attacker snorted, arms crossed suddenly. "I should beat you up and leave you here for breaking and entering last week."

   The man who'd been attacked didn't wait, or say anything more. He just ran. He ran past dozens of houses, past trees and civilians, and past the church on the hill. 

   A little shed stood behind the small Baptist church, looking miniscule under the shadow of the larger building.

   He kept going, his eyes flicking back to the shed. He wanted desperately to go back there, to be in the safe house. But it wasn't safe to go straight there with a potential follower watching him. His legs ached and told him to slow down, but he ran harder, his breaths rattling loudly in the dark. Who knows how many other men were with that attacker? 

   They chose him to spy on the other side because of his retrieving skills, but honestly, he was not in shape enough for this kind of chase. He hoped he'd be able to get out of this uninjured.

   Jim stepped down off the stone, feeling the weight of Excalibur in his hand. It seemed like it was made for him, despite the hilt being differently shaped than Daylight's. The others watched with amazement.

   "Whoaa..." Toby said, breaking the silence.

   Jim slashed the air with the blade, testing the balance. As he did, king Arthur flashed through his mind, but he blinked, not wanting to think about him.

   The flames heartily flared again, and slowly died down, and as they did, some of the flames seemed to stay in his eyes.

   Douxie sank to one knee, his head bent respectfully. One by one, the others followed suit and stayed there for a second.

   What does this mean? The new question lodged in his throat but he didn't know how to ask it, not now. Douxie would know, right? Jim made a mental note to ask him about it. 

   The wizard smiled at him warmly, and Jim smiled back, but Douxie seemed to notice the question in his eyes, and his smile faltered and turned serious.

   "It looks great on you," Claire said, suddenly right in front of him. She glanced at Douxie.

   "Thanks," Jim replied, unable to keep a smile from spreading back over his face. She reached down and grabbed his free hand, and he squeezed gently.

   "I like it way better with you than with Arthur," Claire said. 

   "Let's go to my place, guys!" Krel cut in, grinning.

   "Sure, did you get any new video games?" Toby asked.

   "Rocket Racer 12!?" Eli asked excitedly.

   "Uh, no." Krel replied.

   They all left the hiding place and Numora said goodbye. The others waved at her as they walked away through the halls again. Jim and Claire held hands quietly, with Douxie scratching Archie's chin beside them, at the back of the group.

   As the gap between the three of them and the others began to stretch, Claire looked at Jim. "Do you want me to stay?"

   Douxie also looked at Jim, slowing down to match their stride.

   "What do you mean?" Jim asked.

   Claire raised her eyebrows. "You know what I mean. It's pretty obvious. I guess I'll stay,"

   "Okay," Douxie started. "Jim, what did you want to ask me? It's about the sword isn't it?"

   "Yeah. What does it mean? The whole kneeling thing?"

   Douxie met eyes with Archie, then looked back up, giving a sigh. "Something that doesn't have to happen yet. It means that you... are meant to inherit whatever Arthur left behind. It means you're supposed to be another king."

   They stopped walking entirely, and Jim's eyes were wide.

   "No. That doesn't make sense," Jim said, his eyebrows scrunching together.

   "Yes, it does, Jim. I know it's a bit overwhelming."

   "It's not that, Doux! I can't be a king! You know that... right?"

   Douxie pursed his lips. "Do I?"

   Jim crossed his arms, then realised that Excalibur had vanished. "Whoa! It disappeared,"

   "Interesting." Douxie murmured. "Anyhow, back to the topic at hand. Why don't you believe this about yourself? The magic of the sword clearly sees you as a worthy king."

   "I'm an American, Douxie. We don't have a monarchy here."

   Douxie snorted. "Obviously. You're not meant to be a normal king. Arthur wasn't,"

   "I don't want to be like Arthur! I don't want to have anything to do with him." Jim insisted stubbornly.

   "Jim... This is something we should talk about elsewhere. And it's a hard topic. Let me fill you in after we leave Krel's house. Please,"

   Jim looked down and sighed, feeling Claire's hand squeeze.