I Protect, I do not Clean

Draal had been on patrol from the moment the sun had set, slinking about the suburbs on the lookout for any monster out of place that he could pummel. It was true, he’d been wholly embraced back into Trollmarket already, but his sense of loyalty ever drew him to the surface.

He was the Trollhunter’s protector, and that meant patrols, it meant keeping an eye on the boy’s mother when he was off at school or on a mission to a nearby settlement. It was a sworn duty that Draal held with his own sense of pride, and did what he could to keep Jim safe.

Which is why he was mildly surprised at the sound of a frustrated shout as he wandered the woods looking for rogue goblins, and then surprised once more as an all too familiar blue light crossed his line of sight, landing just ahead of him in the dirt.

The amulet.

And, as if acknowledging that he’d seen it. It quickly rose and zipped back the way it came, which came with the sound of a thud and a pained, annoyed grunt in the distance.

Draal just sighed, making his way towards it. He was a protector to Jim, but he was also a friend.

“What bothers you this night, Trollhunte-” he started to say, pushing through the brush, but his words were cut short as he saw not James Lake Junior, but a completely different human.

And it had the amulet in its fleshy hands.

Draal glared, and stood to his full height. A thief! A thief he’d missed. He’d fix that mistake.

Oh. Fuck. It’s a whelp. He tries his best to put on his serious adult face.

“Awful brave of you to walk up to a stranger, isn’t it?”

He looks left, right, behind him, and crouches down.

“Been back? What do you mean by that?” Bypassing the frustrated rhetorical question, she figured it might do him some good to give him something to focus on besides the pain. 

Get is over with… if only it was that easy. Even she, with her nonexistent knowledge about the prosthetic, knew that getting it off wasn’t going to be easy and definitely not pain free either. With a huge amount of luck, she’ll be able to get it off in only a few attempts with as little pain as possible, but she had not had a good string of luck as of late so she wasn’t counting on that.

Slipping a finger under the bent part of the metal, she pulled as hard as she could to make it give way as it probably was meant to, twisting the arm minimally as she did so to see if it’d give way.

It did… for about two centimeters before the metal stopped short, something grinding painfully against the stone of Draal’s arm at the same time Luka’s fingers got caught between the metal she was leveraging and something else internally. 

There was a painful snap and she jerked her hand out with a yelp, taking a step back to give the no doubt pained Troll some space while clutching her digit. The claw was spilt straight to the quick, blood dripping past her gripping hand and into the water of the pond. It would heal in a few minutes, but she did not want to go sticking her fingers into that arm again.

“Well that was a less than productive first try, wasn’t it?” Giving Draal a thin smile with her ears pinned back and the lycan still clutching her claw tightly, she pulled her gaze away to scan the area around them for anything useful. “If only we had something strong and thin to leverage against the metal, aside from my fingers… Some kind of steel twine would work well, too…” But they had neither of those things, so she had to steel herself to reach in there again.

“That’s a long story, and I don’t know you well enough to tell it,” He grumbled, peering at her with suspicion as she asked her innocent question. “I’ve been out of commission for some time. That’s all you need to know.”

It did keep Draal distracted, if it didn’t just irritate him some more. He’d really not meant for the topic to slip in the first place, but his patience was little these days. One would think that his time as a spirit would have calmed him, and it had... Up until he’d returned to the mortal plane, with all its disappointment, loathing, despair, loneliness...

Distracted from the present, he was only brought back when something deep in the stone of his arm stump felt like it was being torn apart from the inside out, and the pain shot up into his shoulder and neck like wildfire. In his blindness he thrashed his good arm, sending waves through the water and leaving a sizable new dip in the semisolid silt.

A good thing for Luka that she was on the other side of him as he thrashed.

Draal did his best to take deep breaths, to stop himself from making too much of a fool of himself. He was calmed enough to hear the werewolf, at least, and he gulped down air as his frustration mounted again, and he began to string curses together in trollish.

“By the might of all the Trollhunters in the Void, end this ceaseless suffering!” He slammed his fist into the silt, creating a second crater. “If I had my axe I’d chop this blasted thing off and learn to fight one-handed!”

He looked over at her with wild eyes, ready to hurl insults, but he could smell the strange blood, and saw the way she clutched her pawlike hands. She was only helping, and she’d paid the price for the wrong approach as well as he had. He took in deep breaths, tried to center himself...

Draal’s opening his mouth to protest. No hugs! He’s not a hugger indeed! He doesn’t need a hug!

...

“Ugh. Fine.”

And he goes in for one of those patented Aaaaarrrgghh hugs.

...

Turning to look at him again as he assured there was no need for him to get dressed, she nodded at his statement about the arm getting off sooner and padded closer finally. Stepping into the water, she perked her ears and listened carefully to his explanation, golden eyes flickering over the connection point of the prosthetic as she slowly reached out to touch the cool metal.

“Okay, let me take a look…” Lifting and maneuvering his arm as little as possible, she settled more on moving around herself to try and find out if she could spot what was jammed. Finally, she set one clawed finger on the button and pushed it in, straining her senses to listen to the internal structure of the limb for anything out of place.

She had nothing to base what she was hearing on, and trying to pinpoint what sounded off or not was not easy, but she figured the best thing to do next was attempt to twist it and see where it gets stuck. Looking to Draal’s face, she flattened her ears a little and motioned to the prosthetic. “I’m going to try and move it a little, so brace yourself okay?”

With that warning, she gripped the arm and twisted clockwise slightly, straining her ears again to listen to the sounds from the connection point. She was worried she wouldn’t notice anything and have to put Draal through even more pain, but there-! Right there, the sound of metal grinding against metal and stone stuttered and she could no longer turn the limb anymore.

That’s where it was sticking, so she kept the metal arm in that position as firmly and gently as possible as she leaned around to get a good look through any gaps. “I don’t suppose you have any tools with you?” She could just about tell where the jam was with sight and hearing combining into a mental image of the mechanisms inside, so ignoring her previous comment the lycan carefully slipped her first two fingers in find the piece. 

Just feeling along the metal, she could tell where it bent the wrong way and what she had to do to get it off. Casting another look to Draal, she swallowed thickly and sighed. “I found the jam, but this is a tight fit and it’s probably still gonna hurt like a bitch to get this off. Are you ready to give it a try?”

Draal wasn’t a fan of other people handling his prosthetic, and had often snapped at Blinky for trying to remove it when checking for damage. Still, he tried not to show his discomfort, focusing his mind on guiding Luka, or focused on listening to her at the very least.

His body stiffened moreso than braced when she gave him the first warning, holding his breath as he tried to watch her work. Her lupine ears flicked and twisted, listening closely, and then feeling his arm twist until that same jam. Luckily, she didn’t push further right away...

Ah, but the sharp pain was still there, and he hissed, pulling his face into a displeased grimace.

“I’ve been back for maybe three days! Do I look like I have any sodding tools on me?” He shook his head, and took a deep breath.

As he obviously took pride in the work he did and sat up straighter, she wagged her tail a little more and looked over the poor, damaged prosthetic a little more. “Lovely work. Your mother taught you well.”

The suspicion he shot her way didn’t go unnoticed, nor did she blame him for it; she was a stranger, he was injured, it was smart for him to be wary. Not that she could really hurt a troll, especially not one his size, even with only one functioning arm. But she couldn’t force him to relax or to trust her, so she simply remained where she was at a respectable distance and kept her posture relaxed.

She frowned slightly as she watched him trying to lift and remove the limb, flinching back on reflex as he growled but staying firm where she was until he finally acquiesced. “My skinny claws can certainly try.”

Shifting to stand up, she took a half step back and tilted her head at the blue troll, glancing pointedly at the kilt nearby. “Do you want to get out of the water and get dressed again first? I can turn my back, for privacy.” As much as there was the instinctual side of her that screamed not to turn her back on such a potentially dangerous being, she ignored that instinct and did just that, putting it out there that she truly was no threat to him.

The compliment did a lot to soothe Draal’s nerves, and distract him from his troubles for the briefest of moments, and for that there was a silent thanks somewhere in his posture, if she had the eyes to see it.

It did amuse him, if only slightly, that Luka had any concern about his decency or privacy, given the physical nature of trolls, and he hid his amusement under a chuff.

“It doesn’t matter. The water is... nice, and it’s not like there’s anything to see.”

He looked back at her, and saw that she had her back turned. That was a foolish move, but he was not a cruel type, and only rolled his eyes at the bold show of trust in him. She knew so little, yet turned her back on a beast that could pull her apart with ease.

“Honestly, I just want to soak without the phantom pains. So the sooner the arm is off, the better.”

Nodding in greeting as he told his name, she couldn’t help but tilt her head in question at what he said. Impure? What was that? The lycan had never heard of such before, so maybe it was a troll thing? She thought to ask, but holds off upon seeing how wary and weary Draal looked.

Leaning closer to get a better look a his prosthetic arm, she took a moment to try and suss out the damaged locking mechanism and indeed drew a great big blank. She was no blacksmith. But he was?!

Looking back up to his face with a bright look, she wags her tail and claps her hands exuberantly. “Oh wow, you made that? That’s amazing! I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Her enthusiasm was real because she was pretty impressed, but it was also an attempt at drawing Draal out of the sullen mood he’d sunk into as he touched the scars on his chest.

Those would have to be addressed… later. Right now, she could still offer her help with the arm. “I’m not a smith, but I could still try to help. You can tell me what I need to do and I can use my hands to do it. Sound fair?”

Teamwork. Wolves and their magical cousins were social animals, so working together was something Luka excelled at. She was not a smith, but she could follow direction, and if she managed to get the prosthetic off for him she felt that it would help quite a bit.

He was taken aback by the excitement on Luka’s canine face, or the way her tail started wagging. He hadn’t been expecting such a... doglike reaction. A wolf was less prone to nonsense, wasn’t it?

It certainly took him by surprise, and enough so that he truly took in her compliments. His chest swelled a little, and he sat up a little straighter, though he still could not easily move the rotted arm.

“I did. I’m no smith, but my mother is, so I learned the skills to forge from her.”

He was lying, of course, or at least hiding the whole truth. He made it, yes, but Aaarrrgghh had been there to hold things in place, Blinkous and Vendel had designed it, and Vendel cut the red jasper gemstone embedded deep into the palm. He’d made it, sure, but he’d had help... and he was terrible at upkeep.

And still he looked at the lycanthrope with suspicion, sizing her up, even if he knew she would break her teeth on his stony hide. He tried to lift his bad arm to prove he needed no help, and winced. Then, he tried to remove the prosthetic one more time, consistently jamming at the same spot with increasing frustration.

He growled loudly, frustrated again, and relenting.

She very much understood the warning, but that wouldn’t stop her from wanting to help. It may have been a partial desire for… Pain. Punishment. Maybe something harsher. Perhaps that was too dark. He wasn’t the only one who felt like they’d failed people.

“I wouldn’t mind it. Being hurt because of a spar. Wizards being very hard to kill and all.” Her tone was very nonchalant, probably more so than it should’ve been. “I could just toss boulders and trees at you, if you’d prefer.”

With a bit of a sigh, she lays back against the grass and squints at the sky. She splays a hand against the ground, pushing her magic through the tangled roots of the plants to the tree. It began to groan suddenly as the branches seemed to spread outward, growing and extending its shadow until she didn’t need to squint so hard.

“I’m at least partially to blame,” she responds as she lays her hands against her stomach. “Maybe if I had done something more back then, before she turned. If I tried harder to talk her down…”

Maybe if I hadn’t left them all to deal with it themselves. If I hadn’t been too much of a coward to see them fight and hurt. She kept those thoughts to herself. She didn’t want this to turn into a pity party, not for her. She mostly just didn’t want him to hate her for it. Not that he would, but…

She’s lost enough people in her lifetime, she didn’t want to lose a friend to something like this.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” He replied, baring a few of his teeth in a half hearted sneer. “I may lob something back without thinking. I mean it, Mana. Stay out of my way. I will do this without any more damage.”

Even if she’s tough. Even if she’s an ancient wizard. He didn’t want to risk even a scratch, lest he spiral further than he’d already gone. His patience was low as it was, given everything swimming about deep in his conscious self. Things he just didn’t want to face right away.

He just rolled his eyes, watching the bright blue sky.

“What I’ve seen of that... Witch. She was too far gone. She was probably too far gone back then. I know darkness when I see it. I’ve had it worming about in my head like a parasite.”

He didn’t dare elaborate on that, but he wanted to make his opinion clear.

“Her death is a relief... And it should be for you too. I mean, look at it this way. At least now you don’t have to both remember her for what she used to be, and be witness to all the atrocities she’s committed.”

He scooted back one more time, the sun finally high enough that it’d no longer bother him until evening, and settled in properly.