Chapter Text
Three days went by since the incident, two since Jim interacted with Bular with his little ‘lesson’.
Usually for Jim, days went by fairly slowly, but the past few days have been anything but.
Usually for Bular, days went by fairly quickly. The past few days have been anything but.
Only just extremely agonizing.
The fleshbag was trying his best to spend some time with the Dark Prince, “lessons” going nowhere while he healed. Jim was still trying, though, and that was… not admirable, of course not. It was just something to note. A lot still happened in the span of two days.
Bular’s been getting a headache from it— one that would rattle through the hollow stone of his horns and make them feel heavier because of it. He mentioned this to his father but all he’d received was a tired roll of his one eye and a reply of to cease being so difficult and dramatic.
Bular was not being difficult, nor dramatic. No.
...Sure, since that small ‘spelling’ interaction with the tiny fleshling, there was something that had indeed changed about how he felt about the boy. Only so scarcely, but still undeniable. The innocence of his squishy face that would brighten up whenever given the chance.
He would have definitely mistaken that child-like happiness as perpetual if he hadn’t known of the events that affected him within the short span of days.
He’d heard faint whimpers coming from inside the barn just last night, and he had only laid in the shelter just outside, silently listening to the boy transition the quiet sounds to muffled sobbing. Bular had been still, and always before did he hear of such noise as so terribly aggravating. Though, then clearly hearing the flesh— Jim succumb to such emotions had made him feel… shockingly less annoyed. Instead, ever so faint the feeling, he had felt a tight twinge in his gut— yet a stronger one in his hearts. It wasn’t long before he witnessed a green blur soar from the distance to the barn’s front, a bright glow to emit as it changed forms, then opening and entering the barn with a speed that had impressed the Dark Prince. Then did he hear the grief-filled wails diminish after each passing second since Stricklander arrived, until it was nearly silent inside, the impure murmuring a song in a soothing voice.
He remembered how his hearts had twinged tighter after that, and felt like they stayed in a constricted way during that whole night until the earliest of dawn peeking. At least that feeling had vanished the moment he saw the changeling emerge from the barn in human form, his normally tall and round hair having either draped around his face or stuck up in strange directions, a sign that he’d also slept the night in the barn. Bular had bellowed in laughter as Stricklander huffed before disappearing from his sight.
He now looked again at the limited reflection seen on his heavily sharpened sword. The eyes faintly staring back at him shared the mirth he had from that morning memory.
“The way you are staring at your blade is making me feel concerned, Your Highness,” The humored voice of his father’s advisor startled him from his thoughts, and he glared at him as the smaller troll continues, “Would it be better if you would like to go spend some time with it alone ?”
He’d run the very blade into this troll’s chest if he hadn’t remembered how much his father actually valued him as his own right hand and advisor. Bular couldn’t wait for the day that he’ll forget that fact, and he’d give that smug creature the fate he deserved.
Thankfully about… him (again— what was this bastard’s name ) was that he’d at least take the hint easily and back off— if only just a few yards. It must be a perk of having so many eyes.
The pale troll cleared his throat as he nervously— good— clasped all his hands in front of him as they both faced the fire the rest of the usual group, sans Gunmar, had also been facing. A familiar scene, with its normal lightheartedness.
Bular was surprised no one was again commenting about his father’s very odd choice of the prior days. Either they respected and feared the Dark Lord enough to have any nay-say of it or they were actually fine and casual with the idea of him deciding to raise a weak fleshbag child, as implied the other day. But, what was the Dark Prince going to do? Ask ?
Going on to continue ignoring everyone else, he went on to study his blade.
His thoughts had gone back to last night, and again thinking how he heard Jim grieve in the barn before being consoled. Then they led to the night before that, where he remembered how the boy looked at him. How he was eager to teach, as uninformative that experience was, how he showed how to write his name in an English language. How Bular then wrote his own name.
Jim hadn’t been there to see him do so, but Bular for some reason could imagine the absolute pride the boy would express, how his tiny face might have annoyingly adorably contorted to a determination as he’d go to help him learn so many insignificant words until the long long day would become tolerantly passable.
This time, when he again saw his eyes on the reflection of the sharpened metal, he realized he was smiling, but for a different reason.
- ••
After that rather embarrassing morning, Strickler had brought it upon himself to look again through the potential plans via emails assigned by the Janus Order to locate where other bridge pieces have been thought to be found. The recent one that Nomura mentioned had arrived a little earlier than expected, just before sunset the day before.
After that delivery, he had gone through his few provisions before taking off to the barn again, only arriving when his sharp ears picked up the whimpering noises of his Jim. After entering and comforting the boy through his nightmare, he had felt himself grow exhausted and slept alongside the child for a while before the internal clock of his being woke him before dawn. Of course he was a mess in the morning, but that hadn’t stopped him from caringly treating Jim in any way that he could until leaving and being laughed at by Bular.
The way the boy had reacted overall to the current living space was what he would describe as neutral, but a place like that, he realized, would not fare well for comfortability nor the boy’s mental state itself, with his starting grief and nightmares.
If he wanted Jim to feel the most familiar he could be, he’d give the boy permanent residence in his own house, where he’d been before many times. Unfortunately suggesting this would give Gunmar the idea that Strickler would be putting his total influence onto Jim, or that he’d think he was putting his priority over the fleshbag because he thought the Skullcrusher couldn’t be adequate to keeping his promise. Beside that, Strickler already suspected the Dark Lord being suspicious of him knowing the boy personally.
Instead, he thought about having Jim just temporarily staying in the museum— just a few days for the boy to healthily cope before “going back” to his new caretaker.
Funeral arrangements also had to be made, the date itself only being in a few days from now. He supposed Jim would be allowed to attend his mother’s (and his own).
An entire plan enacted in the changeling’s mind within twenty minutes. It could work.
It was surprisingly not difficult to convince Gunmar to allow the boy to accompany him to the museum. Strickler felt somewhat unperturbed up until the Dark Lord decided to also make a permanent residence in the museum as well, in due time. Thinking of the many fragile and beloved artifacts belonging there, he knew Nomura wouldn’t be so thrilled once she heard of this plan.
So here they were now, the changeling leading the child to the roadway edge by the thick forest.
Jim was reluctant to enter the car, and Strickler couldn’t at all blame him. He did get inside, thankfully without a lot of coaxing. The man threw the blanket on his passenger seat to the child in the back. “Cover yourself up with this. ...It’s a little hard to explain, but you can’t at all be seen until we get to the museum.”
The boy cutely wrinkled his nose before complying. If anyone were to look inside, all they would see was a lump of cloth, hopefully not too suspicious looking.
Hopefully ? Surely the changeling wasn’t losing his touch of pretense and deceit. But tainted windows can only do so much, so best to keep it safe with whatever he had. Thinking back, he should have brought a Glamour Mask along.
The ride from the edge of the forest to Arcadia’s museum wasn’t too far, but the heat of the morning sun certainly made the hiding child uncomfortable under the unfortunately plush blanket. Still, Strickler was pleased that they were able to get to their destination without much trouble. Conveniently, less traffic today.
Eventually they got to their destination rather quickly, an hour shy from the high school opening its doors for the late start Monday. The car parked in front of the large building.
Jim saw someone walk down the museum steps from its entrance, their head held high with a confident poise, heels clacking on the concrete. He made the notion to hide, as how Mr. Strickler had said so, but his own door was opened by the man as he gestured for him to stand outside. The stranger, clad in a deep pink shirt dress, had since made their way in front of them.
“Jim,” Mr. Strickler started, raising a hand at the newcomer’s direction. “This is an old friend of mine, Ms. Nomura. She’s the museum curator, and one of my coworkers.”
Coworkers? Jim knew Mr. Strickler didn’t work in the museum, did he? Maybe she was one of the teachers in the high school he worked at.
The boy did notice Ms. Nomura do a perfect roll of her eyes when Mr. Strickler dubbed her an “old friend”.
“Charmed,” She replied lightly, drily. She eyed the boy still wrapped up in the blanket before them, despite the morning heat. “So, you must be the rascal giving the bosses a bit of trouble.”
“ They were the ones who brought this trouble upon themselves, if we’re going to be honest,” Strickler spoke in return.
Jim frowned, was he really any trouble ?
An assuring hand was placed on his shoulder, Strickler noting the child’s discomfort. “We can talk more inside. Atlas, keep that blanket around yourself. You must be as discreet as you can.”
How “discreet” someone could be when stepping up the museum’s stairs while wearing what seemed like an oversized hooded poncho— though thankfully just like the earlier traffic there was scarcely anyone about the large building.
Mondays were when the museum usually closed, other than the scattered days that they also do so whenever business was involved, so it especially made this entrance even more relieving.
Through the museum doors, Strickler allowed Jim to drop his ‘hood’.
“It really was shocking to hear that Gunmar decided to… adopt him,” The curator mentioned. “The Order’s going to have a blast with this, if you didn’t already inform them.”
“Not yet. And Bular wasn’t exactly thrilled , as expected,” Strickler added. “Though I must tell you that Jim’s been trying to—“
“Mr. Strickler?” The boy in question tugged on the man’s sleeve questioningly. “How come you and Ms. Nomura know about the trolls even though they said no other human must know about them?”
The woman eyed the taller changeling as they continued to stroll. “You haven’t told him?”
He sighed. “I did, but, he didn't believe me.”
Nomura snickered. “Damn.”
“He did see that other form earlier before that, alas,” He admitted, tone faux rueful. This time his coworker’s amused reaction was louder.
“ Damn . If I saw your muppet-looking ass for the first time and then you told me that was you , I’d believe that in a heartbeat .”
He glared at her before then rolling his eyes. “The difference between you and someone with tact , I’d believe.”
“Wait, that was really you?” Piped up the voice that made the adults remember the child in their midst. Strickler looked down at those, while still a little doubtful, wonder-filled eyes.
Strickler shot a smile to Jim. “Yes, it really was. Like I’ve said, I am a changeling. Nomura is one too, and we… work for them,” The hesitation went unnoticed by Jim, which he found himself a little thankful for.
“Can you turn into a troll now?” The child said, now rather excitedly. Strickler sighed as he helped Jim stand straight when he swayed again.
“...Not now, Atlas. I still don’t want to invoke too much excitement with your condition.” He saw the boy’s crestfallen look and quickly added, “And that’s also why you’re here. To help you feel better and to make you feel more comfortable in a more, well, familiar environment.”
“I never been to the museum before, though,” Jim pointed out.
“Yes, but I can’t bring you to my house because… there will be a suspicion if I’m found raising a child that’s supposedly disappeared,” Which actually was true, Strickler didn’t want to talk of Gunmar right now. “So, at least this is a more modern human establishment. Away from the barn, until we get to a point where you go back to those trolls, understand?”
Jim nodded slightly, before looking back up with those wide eyes. “Wait, so— I got to fake my death, kinda? And no one’s supposed to know I’m okay?”
“I suppose you did.”
“Okay,” The boy thought for a moment. “This is kinda cool. It’s like that one scene from Gun Robot .”
Strickler let out a snort, but then Nomura commented, “There was no scene like this from Gun Robot .”
“ You watched Gun Robot ?” The man asked.
She crossed her arms. “You shut the hell up. I know you watched it too.”
“I’ve helped raise a child, of course I watched it. I didn’t expect it to be of your tastes.”
“ Gun Robot is cool, though,” Jim interrupted, smiling up at Nomura. “So you got awesome taste!”
The woman looked at him for a moment before pointing a sharp finger down at him. “You know, I like your judgement, kid.”
Strickler would’ve snarked something back if he hadn’t seen the beaming look on the boy’s face from the little compliment. A soft smile had overtaken his own features from it.
“Hey,” Came the clear voice of his coworker, followed by a few whistles. “You look cute with that dopey look. Don’t you have a class to attend?”
Suddenly remembering that he had another job, and that he was supposed to be there in less than an hour, he barely stopped himself from cursing out loud and knelt to Jim’s level. “I have to go to work now, I’ll be back later in a few hours.”
He heard Nomura make a mocking “ick” after he swiftly pecked the boy’s bandaged forehead. He was fine with her seeing the closeness he had with this human, as long as she wouldn’t rat him showing his affection to Bular or Gunmar.
“Be good to Ms. Nomura, or actually, you can annoy her for me!” He laughed as he went back to the entrance.
“I agreed to this by a small margin .” She called back, evident scowl in her tone. “Don’t you dare fuck that up!”
His response was another loving goodbye at Jim’s direction, blissfully ignoring her words.
Shaking her head, she focused her attention to the boy only to find him gazing up at her with furrowed brows. “What’s on your mind, kid.”
The furrow went deeper and more exaggerated on his cute face. “You said some bad words.”
Nomura stared blankly back right before letting out a groan. This was probably going to turn out to be a long afternoon.
- ••
After school and swiftly grading some papers (and then sending a collective email apology of the slow grading to his students and their parents), Strickler made his way back to the museum.
Using his own key he entered the building, and he found Nomura tending to one of the exhibits, the soft notes of Grieg filling the room in the otherwise quiet place.
“You’re back,” She commented without turning around. “Surprisingly the kid wasn’t so difficult at all. He just went to sleep after an hour.”
He raised a brow. “Where is he now?”
“In storage,” She said rather offhandedly that had Strickler raising both brows. He left the scene rather quickly to check.
When Nomura heard him return a short while later she turned to meet him, only to see a certain smugness in his eyes that she so very loathed.
“Oh, how comfy he looked. The pillow was a nice touch.”
The woman had enough control to keep herself from looking even the slightest bit flustered. “I’m not just going to let a child drool over those crates. The pillow was a barrier.”
“Mhm. How would you explain the tucked in blanket?”
Her indifferent mask did slide this time, but before she could muster up a retort there came a dramatic opening of the museum’s doors, and a loud voice to add:
“ Guten tag, dummköpfe !”
A plump man stood at the front where he made his loud entrance. He took off his dark trilby as he then quickly strode over to the two.
“Otto?” Nomura was the first to speak, thin brows raising in clear surprise with the distraction. “What are you doing here? The Maldives piece came in yesterday.”
“Clearly you understand I don’t come here on mein own vacation days,” Otto Scaarbach waved his hand. “It gets very hot here, did you know that? How do Americans stand it?”
“Otto.”
“Sorry!” The German stated, clearly not sorry for his starting of ramblings. “I didn’t go with das Maldives piece excavation— but , I did come with more news from das Philippines!”
Nomura crossed her arms. “What is it?”
He only grinned cheekily at her, normal stern disposition giving away to tease the younger changeling. “Aww, I thought you’d be more excited for this, Freundin .”
No excitement could be traced at all on her face. Otto waited a beat before shrugging and getting on with it.
“ Any way— there have been three more pieces found, both good considerable sizes!” Then the polymorph pulled, out of nowhere, a briefcase from behind him, grinning. “Vat a better surprise it vould be that I announced it in person.”
His fellow changelings stared with wide eyes into the case’s contents when it opened. “And a good afternoon to you too, Otto,” Strickler spoke, still staring down incredulously.
Indeed, each of the rocks were a fist’s size each— not as gloriously big as the ones they recovered when they tried rebuilding Killahead the first time, but now their smaller size made the steps toward their goal even more precious.
The three now discussed for a while before suddenly a discussion between the three of them became a discussion between two of them, Nomura and Otto then quarreling about something minor.
Oh, how familiar that sight was… when they were much much younger and not adults.
“I’m surrounded by children,” Strickler drawled, glaring at the both.
The two stopped their bickering, Nomura rolling her eyes. “Just bring the new kid here, and then should your statement be true.”
Now Otto looked at the woman again, all teasing gone replaced with genuine curiousness. “‘New kid’? Has another changeling been appointed? I didn’t think that vould happen again for a while.”
Strickler gave Nomura a glance before relaying all that had happened, a long story short but enough to get to the major details from the accident to now the child’s current stay in this museum.
As expected, the polymorph doubled down into a fit of laughter after the rundown— a small chuckle coming from Nomura adding to his mirth.
While Otto laughed, Strickler thought back to when Bular gruffly mentioned that Dictatious also laughed like this so disbelievingly when finding out about the boy. Maybe if he pointed out that the German had that similarity to Gunmar’s advisor, he’d shut up immediately. Though already, Otto died it down with a few chuckles escaping his lips.
He had to wipe the tears from his eyes before speaking, still in subtle giggles.
“Oh! I vas not expecting that ! This will be most amusing!”
“Well. You do believe it?”
“Of course I do! None of your jokes are this funny.”
“Ouch”, Strickler deadpanned.
Otto continued to grin before his demeanor changed, dipping his head a little. “Very sorry to hear about Miss Barbara. Ve all know how much she meant to you.”
Strickler only nodded at the other man’s surprising condolences— first Nomura, now Otto seemed to show some genuine vulnerability when first hearing the news. The Earth might as well have switched axises.
“That,” He cleared his throat after his voice threatened to fully crack, “is all now in the past. The funeral is early next week, and now Jim is needing to be cared for.” And it was a terrible shame that he wouldn’t take full custody of the boy, Gunmar had very well made his decision.
Remembering something else, he turned his focus to the curator. “By the way, good news; Gunmar plans to make a later residence in the museum. You’d better be prepared when the time comes.”
Snapped from the somber mood, Nomura blinked before setting an icy glare to her colleague. “‘Good news’ my ass . I don’t suppose you had any say with that suggestion?”
“No,” Strickler replied honestly, “This was his idea. It could be to stay closer to the Order, wouldn’t you think?”
“And the bridge,” The woman added, more to herself, thoughtfully.
Otto hummed. “Perhaps to also get away from that dusty old barn. From das shape of it, it could no longer serve as good shelter in a few years, ja ?” The other two changelings couldn’t help but agree.
Still, Nomura’s eyes had narrowed. “Then what if he decides to bring along that little entourage of his?
“Gunmar vould be smarter than that,” The polymorph countered. “Too many Gumm-Gumms in a human public building isn’t exactly ideal to keep das secrecy.”
“...What if he brings only Bular? You remember his stay here, don’t you?” Silence was the answer as the changelings remembered how so much more tedious ( barely the right word) their workings have been when the Dark Prince reigned in this building, until he went with Gunmar for the outside shelter of that barn; it was for his want to stay near his father, and if the Underlord decided to take some time here there was no guarantee that his son wouldn’t follow.
“That… was not a happy time, no,” Strickler said at last. He pressed a knuckle to his chin, slightly thoughtful. “...The next thing you would know, Gunmar might decide to take residence in the Janus Order.”
Another few seconds of silence, before Otto spoke up, rather thoughtful also, “Vell, I vouldn’t be so opposed to that idea…”
There was a growing silence that contrasted how loud his wistful look looked.
Catching that and the specific tone, Nomura made a face at the then tittering man. “Good gods , Scaarbach.”
Strickler shook his head, also catching the taken tone. “An interesting turn this conversation has gone into. I believe my ears hear Jim calling me from storage,” He lied, already turning away from the other two.
“ Don’t leave me here ,” The woman droned at his retreating figure. Seeing him abandon the conversation at learning of their coworker’s little infatuation with their terrible boss , she spoke, rather darkly, “Would it be mature of me if I blew a raspberry at his back?”
Otto stopped his chuckles and leaned closer to her. “I can do it for you, if you value your reputation that much.”
He still did it without hearing an answer.