"Memories serve better than stray thought."
Draal hadn't told anyone about his encounter with the boy.
To be honest, it seemed like a bad idea and he had passed out before they could discuss the matter. It didn't feel right to betray his trust like that.
Apparently the boy is calling himself Tyler, at least according to the Trollhunter. How odd it feels to wrap his tongue around the word after knowing his true title for centuries. Nevertheless, he keeps it to himself, trusting the human to refrain from mentioning it.
But every night, usually in the early hours of the morning when he returns to the Trollhunter's house, Esmerion wanders into the basement with a blanket around his shoulders and sits in the presence of the Troll. No words pass between them, at least not ones of typical conversation.
"Go on, another."
Draal snorts, shaking his head with irritation. "No! You will get it."
The boyish features of the lad scrunch up as he laughs, baring his teeth in a display of mirth. His ancient eyes glint with mischief, sparkling just as they did all those years ago.
"Just one more, clach-theine," he insists, pulling his blanket up to cover his bare arms. "I 'ave to leave so soon."
The warrior looks down at him in disappointment. He had been hoping to spend a few more days with him. But all good things must come to an end, he supposes.
"I will still see ye in the mornin'," he smiles warmly, though it seems more forced than usual. "Just not throughout the day."
Silence settles between them, a warm but awkward atmosphere hovering around their heads. It's full of interrupted peace and broken bonds, something that neither wished to happen but time inflicted anyways.
"It brings back the lost as though never gone, shines laughter and tears with light long since shone; a moment to make, a lifetime to shed; valued then but lost when one is met with final end."
"Hmm?" the boy hums, looking up at the Troll from his position between his arms.
"Your riddle." Is the response he receives, though soft in tone.
He makes a gentle motion of understanding, bringing his gaze down to the warrior's metal arm. It angers him to know that Bular had taken his arm in their battle, but he knows that it could have been significantly worse. At least the male escaped with his life intact.
A gentle nudge makes him chuckle and he swats away the eager Troll with a hand, earning himself a huff of warm air. "Patience, clach-theine. I haven't started yet."
"Good." Another huff of air and an affectionate nuzzle.
The boy smiles, tracing a runic symbol on his stony skin. This is how he thinks, distracting his hands as his mind thinks.
Then he stops, his smile faltering slightly as he stares at the furnace coals. He knows the answer. But why must it be the answer to this riddle?
"A memory," he says softly, flinching a little at the word. "It's a memory."
He receives a faint hum of approval and a shifting of the Troll behind him. "It hurts."
"I know."
YOU ARE READING
《Dogears》Trollhunters/Merlin
Fanfiction"All that glitters is not gold, but all that is pure most certainly is." The Dark Ages are over. Camelot has been lost. Killahead is scattered. Those that remember recall bright days filled with the laughter of young boys, one with a crown on his he...
