Chapter Text
The gray clouds above glowed a deep orange, reflecting the raging fire down below.
Screams of terror and battle cries rang through a village as Gum-Gum soldiers swarmed about, destroying buildings and the like, while plowing through the warrior trolls trying to defend their homes.
But it was futile.
Not only were the Gum-Gum's made up of a battalion of battle-ready soldiers but were led by some of the most vicious trolls in history.
A loud roar came through the fiery streets as a blackened, red-eyed troll sliced away at buildings and warriors alike. using his twin blades
This was Bular the Butcher, sneering cruelly at a group of startled trolls who bravely charged towards him.
Only for another darkened figure to rush past Bular and tackle the head troll of the group.
The unfortunate troll was slammed into the ground, the figure, a dark stone troll above him bared his sharp teeth as white mist leaked from his mouth.
"RAWWWWH"! he growled, before leaning down and sinking his fangs into the stoney flesh below.
The troll shouted in pain as frost began to engulf the area around his shoulder, creating cracks in its wake.
The larger troll bite deeper and deeper till finally rearing back with a sickening crunch, his victims scream reaching a higher pitch in agony as a whole portion of their shoulder blade was torn off.
One of his braver comrades rushed forward to slash at the larger troll only for them to quickly leap away.
"Hey, are you alright"?! one of the warriors asked kneeling to their injured friend.
"My arm! My arm"!! he shouted
His friends only had a second to gaze horrified at their companion's injury before another one of their groups was taken out. Held above the ground the same troll took sick delight as he bit into the torso of his victim, letting the ice he created spread over the troll's chest and body. Before throwing him away, letting the poor warrior become a projectile that knocked away his companions.
Bular swung his sword, making quick work of any survivors.
"I didn't need your help, Jotnar" grunted Bular.
The troll in front of him chuckled, he was a sculptured pillar made of the same color that Bular is. Wearing leather armor decorated in skulls he stood with stocky broad shoulders with thick muscled arms that bore lethal claws. L ight cracks were found all over the others body that glowed a deep blue, his eyes that shined the same indigo, and ram like horns that curled above his head, and a gold ring that was placed on his nose.
This was Jotnar, brother of Bular and youngest son of Gunmar.
Jotnar Of the Frostbite.
Jontar The Ice-Troll!
"And let you have all the fun"? Jotnar replied.
Bular frowned annoyed before aloud roar echoed through the fiery remains of the village.
Jotnar sauntered by his brother.
"Father calls"~
The pair marched forward till they were at the center of the village where their father, Gunmar, held a sword to a kneeling troll, the leader of the village most likely. While his lead general, Aarghaumont, stood intimidating the captured trolls of the tribe.
"You should have surrendered to us when I was patient enough to gave you the chance" he said before pushing the sword point under the chieftains neck "Will you yield now"?
The chieftain looked around at the ruined remains of his village and the cowering members of his clan, the choice was obvious in Jotnar's opinion, the troll lowered his head even further before speaking.
"I yield, just please-please spar the rest of my tribe"!
Gunmar huffed satisfied, turning around to look at his soldiers "Another Victory Has Been Won For Us"!
In response the Gum-Gum army cheered back in savage joy!
The Skullcrusher grinned before looking at his sons.
"Get rid of the filth" he said nodding to the cowering chieftain troll "I'm tired of looking at them"
The spawns of Gunmar shared an evil grin.
"With pleasure"
"-Under-Prince"?
Jotnar eyes snapped open, he blinked groggily before frowning from being taken away from such a wonderful dream. From his poorly made bed of smoothed stone and crushed Nyarlagroths egg shells the troll could see a short figure peeking at him from the entrance of his personal cave.
"What do you want Dictatious"? he grumbled out recognizing the figure.
The cloaked six-eyed troll did a modest bow and simply said "Your father request your presence."
This got Jotnar attention, these days his father rarely called upon him. Usually brooding in his throne room and getting updates of what little occurrence that has taken place in the Darklands or in the surface realm from some of his Changeling spies. If he was especially bored he have some unlucky soldiers participate in gladiatorial matches.
Those were fun for a while, but those too soon lost their charm after a millennium.
Not wanting to keep his sire waiting, Jotnar pulled himself up and after a few stretches stepped out of his quarters an into the illuminated green caverns of the base..
"I take it you had a nice rest"? asked Dictatious as he stride beside the larger troll.
Jotnar gave a small smile "Just a memory of a happier time."
Dictatious hummed in response but was oldy silent during the rest of the walk, Jotnar let his eyes drift wistfully at his cloak. Food was a scares thing in the Darklands, with some few edible things being the disgusting slimy yolks of Nyarlagroths eggs, stinking Cimmerian Fruit, and the few safe rocks that were deemed fit to eat but hardly filling.
What Jotnar wouldn't give for some fine cloth to eat! Ever since Dictatious received such an item from father servants in the surface realm the young Gum-Gum prince had been tempted to nibble at the cloth which always resulted in a scolding from the six-eyed troll, which wasn't too bad if father also hadn't threatened to cuff him upside the head for bothering his advisor.
But Jotnar had a way to work around that order, taking the tip of his claw he snag on any loose threads he see along the cloak. If he way lucky he would pull till the string went taught and snapped allowing the Ice-Troll to quickly place the little morsel into his mouth. If he wasn't so fortunate, Dictatious would feel the tug and quickly turn to look at the younger troll who do his best to give an inconspicuous face.
Smiling mischievously Jotnar began his little game, catching a thread, his breath nearly caught when it when went taught so much so that the fabric on the smaller troll shifted in a way was sure was noticeable.
Unsure of what else to do, he kept his hold on the string while trailing besides Dictatious.
Eventually the string was thinned long enough were the second that the Underlords advisor stepped ahead of Jotnar that the entire cloth was tugged backward nearly strangling the other troll and sending him backward.
Jotnar wanted to bark off a laugh as soon as Dictatious faced him, but rather than berate the larger troll or even shoot him an annoyed look the other just closed his eyes in almost a pain and nervous expression before bunching up the loose thread and casting it away.
Now the Gum-Gum Prince was confused, something must be wrong if Dictatious of all people didn't take this opportunity to dramatically swoon and whine about damage done to his few belongings.
"Is something going on Dictatious"? Jotnar asked impatiently, not even bothering to collect his sizable prize.
The smaller troll stopped just a breath before continuing on.
"Answer me"! he demanded, scratching his clawed hands on the rocky floor warningly.
The advisor finally stopped and looking back at the larger troll spoke.
"Your father and I simply have something to discuss with you" he said quickly before walking forward.
Jotnar cocked a rocky brow.
"What about"?
"Something better left discussed in the throne room"! snipped Dictatious
"Is it something I did"? asked the Ice-Troll, trying to remember if he had done or forgotten anything that would have granted his father's ire.
"Would you be patient"?!
Jotnar then smiled meanly before asking "Are you the one in trouble"?
Dictatious couldn't conceal a small whimper that escaped him.
"Ha! Knew it! Father has been rather testy with you, no surprise considering you haven't always pulled your weight around"
"I haven't done anything" Dictatious finally shouted "And for your information there is no complaint how I serve as council to your father"
Jotnar rolled his dark blue eyes "Than what is it then"?
"Where here" Dictatious said, gesturing to a tall entry way of glowing green crystals and spiked dark rocks.
For many the entrance to Gunmars throne room spelled doom, with many an unfortunate soul never returning once stepping inside.
Not that Jotnar had anything to worry about.
Dictatious was quick to scurry inside, as expected, no doubt to stand by the Gum-Gum warlords side.
Jotnar huffed annoyed but gave time for the smaller troll to position himself appropriately.
When he finally made it inside the room and saw his father on his carved throne of dark Heartstone Jotnar matched his eye level (or single eye) before bowing low and crossing a single arm across his chest.
"Father" he said "You requested my presence"?
He heard a low grunt before he familiar deep voice of his sire echoed through the cavern.
"Jotnar, my son" he said "Yes, we have...much to discuss."
There was a small pause as Gunmar seemed to stop and stare over his son with a rather unusual frown, upset but not angry, rather just bitter.
"As you know, we have been trapped in this accursed land for more than a millennium."
Jotnar tried not to look annoyed as he responded "Aye, I'm aware...."
He flinched as Gunmar leaned forward and harshly stated "Don't get smart with me whelp-"
"What your father is trying to state," interrupted Dictatious, one of the few who could without receiving Gunmars rage "Is that out of all the time trapped in these Darklands there's only been two confirmed ways of leaving this dimension, Killahead and of course the Fetch when conducting a Changeling exchange"
Jotnar hummed in response trying to act as if he was still invested in the conversation, despite the fact he was being fed information he known for years. Killahead was once a simple stone bridge that had marketed the territory between the Trolls and the humans of Arthurs Kingdom, but thanks to Merlin's accursed magic he used it as a doorway to seal his father, himself, and the rest of their tribesmen in the Darklands. To add further injury the humans and traitorous trolls that aligned themselves with them had set to work destroying the bridge and scattering its pieces.
There only hope now was for his brother Bular, the only fortunate Gum-Gum that wasn't sealed away, to find the scattered pieces with the help of their loyal Changeling followers.
But even with all his freedom, time, and the support of those Impures, the idiot still hadn't freed-!
"-as of now a third way may have been discovered"
Jotnar eyes widen at that as he focused his gaze on Dictatious.
"What"?
Dictatious produced an ancient looking scroll made of parchment and was comically small in his hands.
"It's just as I said, as of now a third way may have been discovered for an individual to escape the Darklands"
Jotnar was getting excited, finally! Finally there was a way to escape this wretched place! He could run free through the forest again! Feast upon fresh bleeding meats! And raise chaos with his father and brother once more!
"Thats fortunate news"! Jotnar exclaimed.
He threw an eager grin his father's way but was surprised how solemn the Gum-Gum King looked as he sat on his throne, silent as his advisor continued to speak.
"Yes, well, for all it could accomplish this technique is not exactly an ideal form of crossing back to the surface realm" explained Dictatious "For one, considering its limitations and for another..."
He trailed off, giving a discreet look to Gunmar.
But still the Gum-Gum King stayed surprisingly quite, keeping his gaze squarely on the steps to his throne.
"-well you are aware of how Changelings are formed, yes Jotnar"
A rare anxious pang stirred at Jotnar's gut.
"Yes" was his simple response, he tried to look at his father, but the troll seemed to be determined not to gaze at his son.
" The whelps of lesser trolls were taken and-for lack of a better words transformed into those creatures in order to pass through the Fetch and serve Gunmar from their place in the surface lands" continued Dictatious holding the script up "This was usually done under the power of the Pale Lady to whelps, but with this we can perform the spell independently and even to the extent where it can work on full grown trolls! Allowing them to pass through the fetch with ease"
Jotnar frowned confused "You want to create more changelings"?
"Hardly" scoffed Gunmar "But this could be of use to us to get an actually valuable member of our army to the surface world to assist Bular"
Dictatious nodded eagerly "Yes! Someone of phenomenal strength and skill! Who be the ideal partner to help Bular complete the Killahead bridge and finally free us from the Darklands"!
The Gum-Gum prince looked between his still silent father and the nervous but expectant look on his advisor's face.
"....me"?
Dictatious flinched "You are the ideal candidate-"
He didn't have time to finish before Jotnar exploded.
"YOU MEAN TO MAKE ME AN IMPURE"!!!
"As a means to bring you to the surface..." Dictatious tried
"BY TURNING ME INTO ONE OF THOSE CREATURES"!
"JOTNAR"! Gunmar growled, finally speaking.
Jotnar was quick to turn to his father "You can't really mean for this for me father"?!!
Gunmar sighed "As of right now I'm weighing in all the options before me, both its disadvantages and its advantages."
Jotnar claws clenched.
"You mean to butcher me and send me away" he growled lowly, but just enough to hear.
Gunmar narrowed his one eye "Nothing has been set as of now."
"But that's what your planning"! yelled Jotnar, taking a defiant step towards his sire's throne "We were supposed to wait till the bridge was completed, cross through it and ravage the world above together"!
"Jotnar" his father near hissed "Control yourself."
"You can't do this to me"! Jotnar continued "It's not my fault were still trapped here! Bular's the idiot who still hasn't opened the bridge yet! It's his fault and now you're punishing me for his blunders"!!!
"Jotnar, Be Silent"!!! his father screamed in roar, rising from his throne.
That finally quieted the young troll down as he bitterly turned away from his father.
"As I said, nothing has been set as of now" his father continued "This is information I am still going over with my advisor-"
Jotnar shot a hateful glare to Dictatious who flinched.
"-knowledge I felt you needed to be informed of" Gunmar sighed as he sat back down on his seat, rubbing his hands over his horned brow "Return to your quarters, if I have need of you once more, I'll send word."
Sure, that this was all his father had to say Jotnar quickly turned and ran from the throne room.
Jotnar yelled and screamed around his room, clawing at the rock walls and throwing around whatever little belongings he had.
He only stopped when he heard steps approaching his domain.
Too small to be his father or any one of the soldiers, too small to be the scuttling of a goblin.
So that only left.....
Jotnar growled as he whirled around to see Dictatious tentatively standing by the entrance.
"Dictatious" he hissed stalking towards the smaller troll "You dare show your face to me"?!
He took great delight in the clear fear that spread across the green troll's face, but surprisingly Dictatious didn't back away.
"May we talk"? he asked
"As if we have anything to talk about"! Jotnar snapped "After you've stabbed me in the back with your little stunt"!
Dictatious had the nerve to look offended as he exclaimed "I would never betray you, my Under-Prince"!
"Then what did you call that treachery that you gave to father"?!! he screamed "To turn me into an Impure! I should feed you too Nyarl for even breathing such a ludicrous idea"!
Nyarl being the semi-domesticated Nyarlagroth that lived under the Crucible, Gunmars gladiatorial arena, and made lively entertainment out of any rebellious or just plain unlucky Gum-Gum soldier.
The other troll looked away, looking a little ashamed.
"Well, to be honest I was given this information quite a while back" he admitted "When I first saw I did see it as quite ridicules and useless, to turn a grown troll into a Changeling." he breathed before looking back at Jotnar "But as more time went by and your father on the constant search for answers on how to gain our freedom I knew I couldn't simply let this information remained hidden"
The larger troll threw a nasty smile to him "Faster was getting impatient for results wasn't he? Was starting to question how useful his advisor really was" he moved forward to lean over the green trolls face "So to save your own skin, you would offer his son for your vile experimentation."
Dictatious quickly shook his head in speedy denial "No, that's not the case at all! I simply wanted to offer an option that your father might want to consider"! he stated, calming down he began to explain "The price for this method of escape requires a tremendous amount of sacrifice but I do see that its benefits outweigh its risk"
"Risk"? Jotnar hissed out
The smaller troll tensed, realizing that he may have made a mistake but choose to continue "Well, um, other than the spell and its requirements there isn't a lot more documentation of the spells success"
"And you would suggest me to participate in this"? Jotnar seethed.
"You would be performing a great service for your father, traveling to the surface realm and helping your brother in the completion of the Killahead Bridge"
The larger troll glared at the scholarly Troll "They why don't you do it"? he asked "Or better yet have some useless guard play as your experimentation."
Dictatious sputtered for a second "Well-I-I'm far to old to go through such a thing, you are far stronger Jotnar! Stronger than most trolls in the Darklands! Strong enough to surely survive such a thing as this"!
Jotnar rolled his eyes, clearly the weaselly little troll was trying to spare himself from the fate he wanted to give to him, at the same time though he can't ignore the logic in picking a younger and stronger troll to go through such a spell.
But Jotnar still held his leveled angry stare at those six nervous eyes.
"Then why does it have to be me?" He grumbles
"Please Jotnar," begged Dictatious finally "Do this for your father, think of what it could do for him"
The Gum-Gum Prince frowned confused "My father"?
Dictatious nodded gravely "It's been more than a millennium since we've all been trapped here and while Bular has been working to free us, time still passes in this prison of ours, resources are scarce and what little we have is barely enough to keep your favor fully rejuvenated”
Jotnar smirked “So what your saying is that you doubt Bular and that father is getting weaker”? he asked in almost a coy tone “Does father know of these thoughts”?
Dictatious face soured but he didn’t flinch or look afraid, in fact he looked almost apathetic as he said “Ask yourself this Jotnar, can your father really sustain himself for another thousand years here in the Darklands? Will our armies survive? Will you still be strong enough to march along against our enemies on the surface”?
The cruel mirth that had once been on Jotnar face as he gazed unsure into the floor of his cave.
He hated to admit it but Dictatious held some truth to his words. Despite being one of the strongest Trolls in the Darklands he felt himself feeling more week and fatigued as the years passed. His hunger an ever-growing beast that clawed at his stomach despite the little vitals he fed it. And worst of all he hadn't been able to summon his magic in almost a decade, the energy he needed just to form mist for his ice breath left him exhausted.
He knew that had to get out of there....but still....
"What-what has father decided"? Jotnar asked
"Nothing of course" said Dictatious "You are his son, he would never make a decision regarding you lightly....but if I must say my Under-Prince," he stopped before continuing "Your father will come and ask your opinion of this matter, all I ask is that you consider our future when you make your decision"
With that Dictatious left.
Jotnar huffed, the burning frustrating rage still boiled in his stomach but seemed to simmer after Dictatious left. The Gum-Gum Prince busied himself tidying up his cave again. Affixing his bedding and items back into place, he grimaced a bit at the deep scratches he left on the stone walls. Especially the ones that had destroyed some of his drawings.
The Darklands were a harsh place to live but mostly boring as well, you could only hunt for so many Nyarlagroths eggs, search for edible rocks, watch so many gladiator fights before those lost interest.
Out of pure boredom Jotnar began to carve grooves into the wall, mostly just nonsense shapes, some slurs in Trollish or Gum-Gum, but then surprisingly he began to scratch actual things. A curved sword, a partial map of the Darklands, tiny humans being crushed by a troll (he was especially hungry that day), a small portrait of his father and a less flattering one of Bular.
Those were carvings he was quite proud of and now a majority of them were scratched up in ruins.
His mood worsened and opted to try to get some sleep.
.
.
.
He didn't know how long he was asleep before he woke to feel a warm heat next to him. The larger figure was snuggling against his side, soft tug traced through his mane to comb through it. It wasn't hard to identify who was there, nothing was more familiar than the scent of his father.
He stayed still, pretending to be asleep, just basking in the rare affection from his sire. It been so long since his father had actually gotten this close to him, let alone show him affection.
Gunmar let out a small hum before saying "I know your awake."
Jotnar breathed out a bit in disappointment, but as he moved to get up the dark arm of his father gently but firmly kept him down. The younger troll silently obeyed his father and allowed him to continue to brush through his course dark hair.
They stayed in comforting silence for a while, before his father rose to a sitting position "I know you are angry at me, my son."
The relax feeling he had gotten from the grooming all but evaporated from Jotnar as he sat up and gave his father an angry but anxious look.
"You mean to turn me into an Impure" he growled, before shifting away from his father's gaze "How could you"?
Jotnar nearly flinched away when he felt his father grasp one of his horns to face him.
But instead of any anger or frustration at his accusation Gunmar simply gave him a sorrowful look.
"I would never ask this of you, Jotnar" he stated firmly "I would never ask you to become one of those creatures, or to send you away if it was not necessary, and even as your King I would never force this upon you"
"Not even to help Bular"? asked Jotnar unsure.
The Gum-Gum King than released his horns to gently cup his face.
"Not even for that, Bular will succeed, maybe not in this century or the next but very soon.....and we shall be free"
Jotnar leaned closer to his father as Gunmar nuzzled the top of his head.
A part of him was relieved that his father wouldn't force him into that spell, the young Troll was all too eager in his father reassurance!
Only.....
The sniveling little voice of Dictatious sounded through his skull.
“Ask yourself this Jotnar, can your father really sustain himself for another thousand years here in the Darklands? Will our armies survive? Will you still be strong enough to march along against our enemies on the surface”?
Jotnar then reluctantly pulled from his father and asked "But you would prefer it if I went to the surface world with Bular, wouldn't you"?
Gunmar furrowed his brow but only sighed "There are benefits to having an actually useful member above in the surface world alongside Bular, many in fact...."
"But risks too" said Jotnar "Dictatious stated there wasn't any proof that this spell be successful, I could very well die"
"Are you afraid of death"? cuffed Gunmar, his question more amused.
"Oh course not"! said Jotnar before going quite again "Only....by going through this....would I still be called your son? If I go through this ritual will you still see me as kin"?
The Changelings once transformed were all but shunned by the rest of the Troll tribes, even those of their birth parents wanted nothing to do with them. Which was a beneficial so that none of them would seek to betray them and would remain in loyal service of Gunmar and his army, but what of his own son?
A fierce look spread over Gunmars face.
"Jotnar, you will always be my son"! he curled a fist before thumping it gently against his son's chest "No matter what magics at work, we will still share the same stone and blood! Nothing will change that."
He brought his fist back to his chest "You and Bular will free us from this dying world, that I'm certain! We will celebrate the destruction of our enemies and feast of the flesh of thousands of arrogant humans who thought they could take the surface for themselves! And all three with us will rule in our Eternal Night"!
Jotnar puffed up his chest in eagerness and pride! He wanted that future for him and his family!
The painting his father made, of their Freedom and Victory, was so visible Jotnar could almost taste it.
But his optimism faltered a bit as he realized how far away, they were to that future.
Unless....
"Father, what must I do"? he asked quietly.
What needed to be prepared was that for the next several days ingredients and tools would need to be gathered, so in the meantime Jotnar was expected to stock up on food and energy. Jotnar was a little grateful for that considering he got to eat his fill of more than the usual rations, not to mention he took great satisfaction as he wrenched Dictatious cloak from his shoulders and tore into it satisfied that the smaller troll couldn't say anything about it.
Another is how much time Gunmar spent with him.
It was rare that his father would see him, usually calling upon him once in a fourth night for a quick spar or to translate news from the surface, now he was spending as much time with Jotnar as he could. Often eating with him, sparring, and even just nesting.
It didn't hit Jotnar till later that Gunmar must have realized that the both of them may not be seeing each other in a long time.
But finally everything was in preparation and sorrowfully Jotnar waited outside the cave were the Changeling exchanges usually took place.
His father stood outside with him, he was silent before grabbing hold of his youngest son then pressing their heads together for the last time.
"May your sacrifice reunite us all my son" whispered Gunmar.
Jotnar gave a firm nod, studying his father by sight and scent, hoping that this would not be the last time they were together.
Then he stepped into the cave.
There stood Dictatious with the scroll in hand, besides him sat a pedestal were the Fetch was propped. Below it was a cauldron that smoked white while a circle of stones formed outside it.
"This way my Under-Prince" said Dictatious, gesturing Jotnar to the center of the circle.
The Ice-Troll growled but obeyed.
He takes a breath, he's the sun of Gunmar the Black, he cannot hesitate now.
At once several beams of lights shot up freezing the troll in place. He panics but quickly remembers that Dictatious placed it there and keep him still for the more...painful....part of the incantation.
Dictatious began by opening the scroll and reciting the spell, stopping at one point to drop the malformed skull of a Changeling.
The small green troll than raised his arms his chanting getting louder and more melodious, almost as if another voice had joined his.
The room gets darker till the only thing illuminating it is the glowing green cauldron.
When the last word is spoken from the spell pure black tendrils like shadows shoot out from the cauldron and towards the frozen troll.
Jotnars screams are muffled as the cut into him, literally cleaving away at his stone body.
The pain is excruciating, his eyes whirled around!
It felt like it lasted years, with the only thing that Jotnar could take stock of was Dictatious frightened face, the spiraling vortex of the Fetch, and his own shadow revealing his body crumbling away into a smaller and smaller form.
Then nothing....
When Jotnar finally awakes again he can barely open his eyes.
His vision is blurred by foreign lights, but than his sensation returns.
It was terrible!
It felt like his skin was too tight, feeling wrong, so wrong and revolting. Jotnar wanted to scratch it off but his hands couldn't move. Everything hurt to move, to even BREATH made the sensation intense. Then there was his core and Great Gronka Morka! It was like a part of himself was gouged out and a foreign organ was shoved in.
Then a soft voice calls out
"Goodmorning Jim"~
Who was Jim?