Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Oh, there is nowhere I would rather be. Could never never feel more comfortable, could never want for more, when you’re near...Here, here, my family! You are my familiar. 

-Bastille

Chapter Text

I miss you. I miss you so much.

She was his everything, Krel supposed. They had been all they had ever busied themselves with, nearly every moment spent together. Learning, finding new ways to get out of lessons, keeping track of the other’s whereabouts, ensuring that they both stayed alive. 

And now they were separated. How could Krel have allowed that? Suggested that? At the moment, and even now still, there had been something inside him, something strong, telling him to stay on Earth. Perhaps it was because he had friends here. Maybe he felt a diplomatic responsibility or even a completely domestic one. But whatever the case, Krel could not presently understand it. All he could feel now was a distinct lack of Aja. 

Gaylen. He missed her so much it hurt. What had he been thinking? Earth wasn’t his home. His family was his home. Aja and Vex and Luug were his home. 

Krel missed Buster, too.

Kleb. Krel had effectively killed Buster.

Add that to the long, long list.

Krel wanted to see Jim. Something told him that the Trollhunter would know a thing or two about fighting the many fights that succeeded winning the first. Jim might know how to rebuild. Rehabilitate. Recover. Stars above, Krel wanted nothing more than to help the world around him heal.

It was probably okay, then, that he stayed on Earth. They would need his help. His answers. And, hopefully, he would be safe. 

Three weeks in, Krel sat in his bedroom onboard Mo– the ship. Actually, Krel wasn’t sure that he could even call it that now. It was destroyed, explosions and fires blowing out the structure and warping the metal beyond recognition. But the roof was sturdy enough that Krel did not fear collapse, and communications were functional. Even battered and withered, the ship was still just what he needed.

It was one in the morning. He was surrounded by digital and physical paperwork and hundreds of hours of footage. Somewhere along the lines, the federal government had gotten involved, a development that had terrified Krel. But thankfully, the support and subsequent threats from the people of Arcadia-Oaks was enough to pressure the government to refrain from taking Krel away, with the condition that Krel give his full cooperation to a legal investigation. Much to Krel’s relief, the investigation was not to be public, either. Arcadia-Oaks would remain the sole community with knowledge of trolls and Akiridions both. Unfortunately, the humans' love of assignments was not limited to school. The government was requiring that Krel complete more paperwork than he had ever seen his parents complete.

In short, the entire ordeal had been all-encompassing. Nothing really existed but this. So when Aja called him, Krel found himself surprised. He had practically forgotten they could do that. He really was terrible at this. At the prospect of speaking to Aja, a grin split across Krel’s face as he slammed the “accept” tab, and a live-stream of Aja opened on his holographic interface.

“Aja?” She appeared to be seated at their dining room table in the palace. Like Krel, stacks of tablets surrounded her. The edge of a  map peaked out at the bottom of the hologram. As Krel suspected, Aja looked just as busy––if not more––than he was. 

“Krel! Little brother! It is so excellent to see you! It feels like it has been forever since we have last spoken!”

“I could not agree with you more, sister. How are you feeling?” Krel asked, fixated on the stress lines around Aja’s eyes, the weariness over her shoulders.

“A little bit tired. I admit that I was not quite prepared for the magnitude of responsibilities, which was quite stupid of me, considering that I knew I would be handling war recovery. But Varvatos has been diligent in helping me. Reconstruction is well on its way.”

Krel’s lips lifted into a smile. His sister was as brilliant as a star. “I knew you would make an excellent queen. How are the people?”

“Eager to see their king.” Aja looked up at him with big, hopeful eyes, and the words unspoken in that statement were clear. Come back.

Krel’s smile wavered. “I miss them. They know that, right?”

Aja’s own smile fell as she rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. Hope fell off of her face and fear flickered in Krel’s core. “Right?”

“There has been some controversy regarding your motivations to remain on Earth.”

The floor seemed to turn to crumble beneath Krel’s feet. He slowly lowered himself into his seat and hid his face in his hands. “What are they saying?”

“Krel, I don’t know that–”

“Aja. Please. I-I can handle it. I deserve to know.”

Aja looked at Krel for a minute with an expression that he couldn’t quite read. “Their concerns consist primarily of a potential reallegience.”

“Me? Conspiring with the Earth governments? That is what they are worried about? Seklos and Gaylen, I did not realize that they thought so lowly of me.”

“Oh, Krel…”

“Have you told them why I am on Earth?”

“The official reason, yes, but the unofficial reason is true regardless.”

Krel crossed his arms and raised a brow. “Unofficial reason?”

“That you prefer Earth to Akiridion-5.”

A snarling frown twisted Krel’s features. “I do not.”

“I thought...You said that Earth was more home to you.”

Krel pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes burning. “I know what I said. I-I was wrong, Aja. I don't why I said that. I love Earth. I love it, and you know that, but it doesn’t matter. You are my home, Aja. You and Varvatos and Luug. I was a fool not to realize it. I have responsibilities on Earth that are more honor than obligation purely because I actually care for this mud ball, but it is just not the same home that it was when you were here.”

The air filled with the near-silent hum of the interface. Krel slumped in his chair and crossed his arms. The air had changed. It had grown melancholy with Krel’s outburst, but there was just something...something wrong. Something alien. Kleb. Krel never thought he would choose to use that word to describe anything, but it was the only one he knew that describe whatever in the stars this weird, limboing sensation was. And Krel knew the problem, too. Aja isn’t saying something. Why isn’t she? In one long movement, he dragged his eyes up to meet Aja’s.

“Talk to me, Aja. What is wrong? Did I do something wrong?” Aja seemed to deflate. Krel had asked the right questions. She was about to “spill the tea,” as the humans said. 

“No. It is nothing that you did. But I must tell you...There was a reason I called you. It’s Luug.” Aja bit her lip, a gesture that Krel often noticed whenever Aja was either focused or nervous. Unfortunately, he was inclined to think that her tic was caused by the latter. The little trouble-maker had probably bitten a diplomat or consumed documents or something equally unhelpful.

“What did he do?”

“He is unwell.” The words were choked, forced, and they took Krel by total surprise. His breath shuddered in his chest and his gaze went wide. He stared at the floor for a mecron as energy buzzed in his ears.

“Krel? Are you okay?”

“Elaborate. What happened?”

Aja stammered, seemingly struggling to pull together the story in her head. “We– Well, Varvatos and I––We noticed Luug acting strangely a few days ago, and then he vomited and-and it was weird, Krel, not like what he’s done in the past, and his eyes had discharge after and we took him to a medical practitioner. Her best guess was that it was caused by something on Earth, or perhaps from the wormhole that he swallowed. She does not– It does not look good for Luug, Krel. I think you should...come home for a while. Before it– Before Luug–”

Aja sighed tightly and rested her forehead in her hands, her elbows braced on the desk. “Would you just be able to come home?”

Krel drew in a shaky breath, nearly unbelieving that this was happening. “How long does he have?”

“At least to the end of the delson.”

“That is what, fifteen horvaths? I will be there in five. In the meantime, send all of the practitioner’s work to me. I will look over it while the wormhole ignites.”

“I’m sorry to call only to deliver bad news.”

Krel smiled softly. Aja was very kind. “It is alright, sister. We are both busy. I understand.”

Aja put on a brave smile and cut the transmission.

Krel swallowed thickly and allowed the teardrops to fall. 

“With all due respect, General, I do not believe that it would be appropriate to, ah, medically evaluate me for research purposes. It would be far more efficient to provide you with the research accumulated by Akiridion doctors and biologists.”

“That may be, but how are we to tell that the information provided is truthful? There has been far too much deceit in this relationship, and I intend to fix that. I trust you, but you must understand that my superiors and inferiors alike do not. We must provide evidence.”

Krel grimaced. He understood, but it was no less frightening. “I will ask after donor bodies on Akiridion-5 to bring with the research.”

General Costas exhaled stiffly. “And if they ask for a live specimen?”

“We will find a volunteer who would be willing to undergo an investigatory operation with consistent supervision by Akiridion doctors and law enforcement. In such an operation, my doctors will take the lead.”

Krel allowed himself to relax. There was no way that the general could ask him a more difficult question than that. Of course, Krel failed to mention that he would likely volunteer himself with Aja and Zadra as his protection. There was zero sense in informing any human that they could potentially have a politically valuable person completely at their mercy.

“General, I know that this meeting was supposed to last another four hours, but certain matters have arisen on my home planet. I have been asked to return briefly and as such need to leave this meeting early. To clarify, I will be using the wormhole.”

General Costas looked at Krel strangely, and Krel wished he could tell what he was thinking. He wished that he could read micro-expressions like he read Akiridion, like Aja could.

“May I ask as to the nature of these matters?” he asked. Krel was hesitant, and the general quickly tacked on, “Off the record.”

“My pet is ill. If you recall Luug? The purple subventris. We do not expect that he last through the morning.”

General Costas frowned. “I am very sorry to hear that. I will be able to let you off early today, but I require you for another hour.”

Krel took a steady breath in, knowing that the statement was in no way a request. “Very well. What is our task?”

“Interviews. The heads want more information on you and the Akiridions who were on Earth.”

Krel nodded, stifling a laugh. “I understand. To be honest, I am surprised that they did not request this sooner.”

“Excellent. Let’s begin, then. Full name?”

“King Krel of House Tarron of Akiridion-5.”

“Age.”

Krel hesitated as he considered the question. Between differences in life spans and development and keltons versus years, it was a little difficult, but for children and adolescents, the numerical value was about the same between both worlds. “Fourteen.”

General Costas winced, and Krel frowned. “Is everything alright, General? Are you in pain?”

“No. No, everything is fine. To confirm, you responded with ‘fourteen?’”

“That is correct.”

A beat.

“Alright, Krel. After reconsideration, I've determined that this can wait until you return from your trip. Just be sure to communicate with me about what’s happening. When you’re returning, when the wormhole is in use, and if you would like to take time off for bereavement.”

Krel squirmed. He hated when he did not know a word, but only idiots put pride over clarification and knowledge. “What is the meaning of the word ‘bereavement?’”

The general’s face softened as a puffy sigh escaped him. “It means mourning. On Earth, it is customary for people to mourn when somebody passes away. We usually allow them to take time off of work to do so.”

Did humans mourn every time somebody on Earth passed away? Core beings lived for hundreds of years. Death was typically unnatural, and always felt rare when it occurred. But to Krel’s understanding, biological life forms had a much shorter life span. Considering that there were nearly eight billion human life forms, it was likely that 100,000 to 200,000 spirits moved on every delson. That would mean that nobody would go to work, which did not make any sense. So General Costas probably meant people who that human was emotionally close to. Yes, that made more sense. Because the emotional attachment would result in the death causing emotional damage, which would require recovery, hence the period allotted for “bereavement.”

Krel understood now. The general was trying to be kind. Again. He really seemed intent on ensuring Krel’s comfort and security in several aspects, with much less regard for practicality. Not that Krel minded, he supposed. It was just...confusing.

“Thank you, General. I appreciate your consideration. I will update you. Oh, um, if I may ask another favor…?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“I think my stitches may have ripped last night. Is there any way that you can provide me with materials to redo them with?”

The general gave Krel another hard, sad stare. Why did he keep doing that? Krel hated that look. “I will call a nurse to do the stitches for you. It isn’t safe to perform a procedure like that on yourself.”

“Really? But Aja and I always…” Krel hummed and shook his head. “This is not my field of expertise, and it was not Aja’s, either. I suppose that active battle or living undercover are not the most suitable environments in which to learn proper medical practice, yes?”

General Costas laughed and clapped Krel on the back. “That’s for sure. And besides, I think it’s fair for us to give you medical care when we were the ones to screw you up in the first place.”

Krel waved his hand. “It is fine, General. It is nothing that is on your head. Things were complicated.”

Krel reviewed his statement. Had it been too much to speak so freely? Krel knew that he and General Costas were friendly, but Earth politics and law were...extremely complicated. Nearly as complicated as the social politics he struggled with at school. It is nothing that is one your head. Could implicitly separating General Costas from the former General Kubritz (or even unintentionally the other soldiers and government as a whole– Oh, Gaylen–) interfere with the chain of liability, perceived trust, even suggest a grudge?

General Costas flashed Krel a smile full of confidence and drew his hand vertically along Krel’s spine in a comforting gesture, and it took a mecron for him to realize that the general was reminding him to breathe. Krel nodded minutely and steadily and deliberately inhaled. He could not check out; he was still talking to the general, and therefore every movement and everything that came out of his mouth mattered. 

Anxiety dissipated and immediately recondensed. Krel’s forwardness appeared to be a safe as well as socially acceptable move, but it also seemed that General Costas was aware of his nervousness. Krel knew that the man did not achieve and manage his current position with stupidity as his tool; it made perfect sense that he would notice Krel’s difficulty to draw breath, that he would anticipate his trepidation. Krel was, after all, very new at being king. And he had admitted that he was fourteen, which was, now that Krel thought about it, quite young by Earth standards and Akiridion standards alike. And then General Costas had cut his workday short where he had not originally intended to do so. Oh no. The general was being friendly because he perceived Krel as a child.

Upon the realization, distaste swelled in Krel’s gut. In the last mecron alone, the number of gestures to support the theory of the existence of such a dynamic was more than damning.

But perhaps it was for the best. Such a dynamic could incite sympathy in the human government, and in the case that their relations ever went south, they would expect an immature partnership to lead their prospective enemy. Underestimation was a tactic that Varvatos had always, however mockingly, encouraged Krel to take advantage of. Perhaps now was a good time to employ such a tactic.

General Costas’s hand settled on Krel’s shoulder, and Krel shuddered as he pulled away from his thoughts. The man looked concerned, and annoyance twinged in Krel, but he pushed it down. He couldn’t "start something" with the general, however menial. His life was more than his own. Everything that he did reflected on his people. Reflected on Aja.

“What is it?”

“I asked if you were alright.”

Krel gave a dry laugh. “I thought we had just established that we were on our way to medical. What I wouldn’t give to make this transduction self-repairing! Biological life forms are needlessly complicated.”

“They’re not self-repairing? I could have sworn...”

“Only the old ones were. The mothership is a shell now. I had to cannibalize what was left to make just this one transduction work, and in order for the effect to look as realistic, I had to make more of it real. Illusions can only take us so far, I guess.”

Good. Slip in the word “mother,” reminder to him (and myself–try not to restrain undertones of personal emotional reaction) of the loss of several of my parental figures and my homeless state. Oh, Kleb, a remark that could be interpreted as a dig at General Costas's past involvement with Kubritz!

No. No. He is thinking of this too hard. Politics, Aja had warned him. They meddle with the mind. Relax and be charismatic. Childlike. Play the victim. No, charismatic. Be friends. Be genuine, and, hopefully, there will be no need to play the victim. Playing the victim should only be for when we are the victim. But are we not? Not if we can help it. It is our decision. Your decision.

Krel shook his head. Perhaps a psychological evaluation was in order as well. It would do no one any good for the king to be vulnerable both physically and mentally. 

“General Costas, if I may, um…” Krel snapped his jaw shut and stared at the floor, cheeks turning lavender with embarrassment.

“Yes, Krel?” Kleb. Kleb. When had General Costas begun to refer to him as Krel, as opposed to King or Highness or even Mister Tarron? This would not do. Victimization would only manage so long as Krel was still considered respectable. Otherwise, he and his people would appear to Earth’s governments as wards instead of allies, which risked that their power and control be threatened. Enough with the victimization! Yes, enough with it. Friends here use first names, not titles or surnames. You already knew that. This could be more an indication of trust and goodwill than of perceived inferiority. Krel hoped that that was it. Goodwill. Friendship.

Politics did not have to haunt Krel everywhere. A show of weakness was acceptable among friends, Krel mused, and could even reassure their trust. 

He was never fit to be a king. 

Or perhaps Krel was just looking for ways to cut his losses.

“I...wanted to enquire after mental health resources.” He resisted the urge to duck his head as his gaze flitted between the General and his shoes. No hesitation. Seklos and Gaylen, he was really doing this. “I thought it would be best to make sure that...that I am…” Not endangering my planet to myself, healthy enough to pass good judgment, fit to rule, not damaged– “I just want what is best for my people and I must ensure that I am capable and prepared to make that happen.”

General Costas faced Krel and rested his hand on the young king’s shoulder. Krel tentatively allowed the contact, anxiety ripping at him once again. It was just as likely that the general think Krel unfit to rule. Politics was a game, and this was a dangerous gamble. But when Krel looked up, he was surprised at what the general emoted. Not pity, nor amusement, nor distrust, nor hunger–– Respect . 

“We are provided with only the best psychiatrists and therapeutic technology the United States has to offer. As the Akiridion ambassador to Earth and as a dual citizen of the United States, they are at your full disposal."

There was warmth in his eyes. Relief washed over Krel and was not immediately thwarted by fear or social politics or stipulations.

General Costas was a friend.

The medical office was not far. Within minutes, Krel was reclined on his back, his transduction turned on. As welcoming as Arcadia Oaks had been to the knowledge of his true species and as forgiving as its people had been to Aja and Krel for the charade, it was still unsafe for Krel to be in the open in his Akiridion form. Tourists, new residents, even a cell-phone pointed in the wrong direction–– They all posed the threat of information getting to people who were unauthorized to it. If word of Krel’s true origins left Arcadia Oaks, he could say goodbye General Costas and say hello to a new and exciting world tour: DJ Kleb, live specimen, key to medical and technological advancement on Earth. Premiering in a remote and secure location in the Rocky Mountains and traveling to the governments of all of Earth’s superpowers. Lively.

Krel was not sure how to feel when the general left the room and a young nurse entered. He seemed nice enough; he had a loose stature and smiling eyes. But the white labcoat, the metal table, the scent of bleach poisoning the air… It brought back bad memories. It made Krel afraid.

Unfortunately, biological anesthetic did not work on Krel where his human form was concerned. Aja and Krel had learned that the hard way, back when they had had their first battle in their transductions. Something about a disconnect between the biological nervous center and the energy-based one. Aja had figured it out, but biology was not quite Krel’s forté. Surely if both bodies could feel pain, then both would be able to feel numb? But, no. The Tarrons were never that lucky. 

Now, Krel pushed back memories as the nurse carefully removed the ripped stitches from the tear over his ribcage and applied new ones. 

By this point in time, Krel had had his fair share of injuries: accidents on the battlefield, school bullies, a vaguely torturous hour with Kubritz. All situations where pain had to be pushed aside in favor of productivity. Those experiences had helped Krel to develop the very underrated skill of refusing to react to pain. The skill served him well now as he suppressed winces and twitches. It would do no good to distract the nurse or make his work more difficult by moving.

Krel’s breath hitched as the nurse pushed the needle in again, the small instrument slipping easily under his skin. He wished the man would hurry up. The pain seemed to be causing Krel sensory issues. The movement of light bouncing off of the metal table corners, the clanging tools, the pungent odor of focus radiating from the nurse–– It all suddenly felt too much. It was disorienting. Fear crept to the front of Krel's mind. He was more vulnerable right now than he had anticipated.

General Costas is just outside. The nurse is not allowed to hurt you. He will follow orders.  It will be over soon. It will be over soon.

By the time Krel found himself back at the ship, he was exhausted. There was simply no other way to put it. He was so tempted to curl up in the pilot’s seat and sleep for a horvath or two while the wormhole powered up. But, no. Luug came first. Easily. Krel had a lot of paperwork to look over. From the way Aja had put it, the practitioner on Akiridion-5 had been relatively unsure of what had brought about Luug’s illness. Perhaps Krel was no genius when it came to transduction mechanics, but Akiridion biology was easy enough to understand. There was most likely something the practitioner had missed. Almost certainly. There had to be something. Something that could give away the cause so that they could find a solution.

Krel gritted his teeth as he struggled to keep his eyes pried open and his spine upright. He needed to find a solution. He needed to find a solution.

Nine horvaths later, Krel's heart broke such that he understood why the humans said it. The phrase felt much more literal than figurative. His hands clambered at Aja’s arms as tears sprung to his eyes. This… This was not how it was supposed to go. 

“We missed something, surely! Let’s move Luug into stasis. Give me his core report, I am sure I can–”

“Krel.”

“–find a tell. It is possible that he is going comatose, maybe even preparing for seizure. Besides, our parents’ cores survived being directly shot long enough to go into stasis. If we can’t even find cause for Luug’s illness, then there is no way it could be significant enough to cause–”

“Krel. Krel, please stop.”

The quiver in Aja’s voice froze him. 

“There is nothing more you can do.”

Krel’s throat tightened. “There has to be. If there is not, then...then...Aja, I can’t–”

“I know. But we must.”

Krel looked at Aja helplessly and he got the sense that Aja was struggling to hold his gaze. 

“We should be with him. While we still can.”

“Where is Varvatos?”

“Attending a meeting.”

Krel was silent for a moment as he took apart that statement. Attending a meeting on my behalf, so that I can be here.

He trembled and followed Aja into Luug’s room. Despite everything, he was so excited to see Luug. It had been three weeks. Krel missed his little subventris. And, fortunately enough, the little guy was awake and just as excited to see Krel.

Thirty mecrons later, Aja walked Krel out of the room. He was a trembling mess. Several medical practitioners entered the room behind them. Krel registered that they were going to take the core, and suddenly it was too much.

“Oh, Gaylen.”

Krel threw himself into Aja’s chest. Her arms encircled him, pulling him closer. A hand buried into his hair and, despite his grief, Krel could not have been happier to have his sister near.

Aja was steady. Aja was strong. Her breaths did not shudder in her chest, as Krel’s did. Her eyes did not leak tears. Her skin did not flush lavender. How? How was she doing it? Krel could see right through the façade. Aja was devastated. It was so obvious. The better question, though: Why the kleb was she doing it? Seklos and Gaylen knew that Krel needed her strength right now, but Aja had to know that Krel would never, never, think less of her for crying. Even more, it was unhealthy to restrain that kind of emotion. Aja had told him so herself.

“Eli. Look, Krel, it is Eli.” Aja’s voice was nearly smooth, only afflicted with the slightest of tremors.

Krel sniffed and looked up. Indeed, the Pepperjack was right there, looking just how Krel remembered him. The glasses, the lanky stature, the shock of dark hair. He wore formal clothing, what Krel recognized to be a combination of Earth-wear and Akiridion-wear.

His eyes were sad. He grieved with them and even, Krel suspected, for them. Losing someone you loved was only a little bit more painful than watching someone else face the same trial.

“Eli can take you to your room, little brother. I am sure he would be more than happy to stay with you if you wanted.”

Krel hesitated. “Where are you going? Why can you not stay?”

Aja looked at Krel helplessly. “Varvatos can only run the meeting for so long.” Krel’s heart broke for Aja. One of her closest spirits had just moved on, and she would have no time to grieve.

The dry eyes and strong composure suddenly made sense. She had to.

“Oh, Aja... Surely they would understand…”

Aja shook her head. “I have work to do, Krel. It doesn’t matter if they understand or not. The work will not get done without me.”

“It’s not fair!”

“I know,” Aja murmured, her voice a ghost over her lips. “But we always knew our responsibilities would be unfair.”

This was unfair. Everything about it just...just hurt. Aja should not have had to push this away. Not for work, not for sleazy advisors and greedy senators, certainly not for the mistakes of their parents.

“What about Eli? He is a diplomat now. Should he not be at this meeting?”

“He works very hard. He will be able to miss this meeting. Go with Eli, little brother.”

“No,” Krel muttered. “No, Eli will come with us.”

Aja stared at him, confusion blurring the heartache. “Krel?”

“You said that Akiridion-5 wanted to see their king. Well, I am here, aren’t I? I am the diplomat to Earth. I imagine that my appearance would reassure both the politicians and the public. Am I wrong?”

“You can’t work right now, Krel. You need to go rest. Just because I must work does not mean that you must. The people will not expect an appearance from you.”

“That is the problem, sister. They do not expect an appearance from me because I have been an absent king. If you work, I work. We rule together. Remember?”

Krel begged Aja with his eyes. Let me share the burden. Please. She continued to give him that strange stare before a soft smile curved her lips. Gratitude.

“In that case, we are running late. I was supposed to take over for Varvatos approximately three mecrons ago. Our agenda today is mostly focused on identifying reminiscent or outreach threats from Morando’s sympathizers. Here, let us walk. Eli and I will give you the details.”