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socratesvisitsarcadia · 16 days ago

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Larimar and Friend

Now, I do not often find myself at need to explain myself, but I suppose it only makes sense I do. This is a one off in a random "what if" Angor survives the Eternal Night just with permanent scarring and trauma. Instead, he finds a friend in a unlikely place.

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Well, it wasn't exactly a plan to find a troll in the woods one day, as you went to find some wood for a new project. At first, Larimar thought it was some sort of costume, but that's when you saw him eat, just plucking a branch out of an oak tree and munching down on it like a beaver. Then she got, justifiably, scared, taken he was much taller than herself or anyone she knew. However, that was only until the woman saw the little totem he produced, intricately carved, with little nooks and crannies.

It was really impressive, especially for someone with such big hands. Although at first fearful, it led her to start approaching. Perhaps if she presented him with something, it’d wanna be her friend. After all, even in the city, one should always try to get on a fey’s good side. Well, this guy didn’t look like a fey, but he also did not look human. Either way, friends are usually better than enemies.

It took a while.

Angor was one stubborn creature, as well as hard to find.

Finally free from the café, Larimar collapsed on the bed of her small flat, ready to fall asleep. When a recognizable hoarse voice echoed from the door.

“Finally you return.”

She groaned, ready to toss a pillow on his face. “Well one of us needs to make ends-meat.”

The troll rolled his eyes, sitting on the floor by the bed and tossing a small stone on it next to Larimar. It had been intricately carved with a mountain pattern. “How much for it?”

“Meh, 40 bucks, I think?”

“If it was made from my flesh?”

Larimar gave a good look at it. “It isn’t. This is granite. You’re clay. So 40 bucks.”

He huffed. “Why is your wood more valuable, if it is easily made?”

“Easy?!” Oh, now she was offended, lighting up her bedside light and sitting up in a way that made him have a smug grin. “Do you know how expensive it is to buy sealant?! The energy bill I have to pay for the scorch tool?! The amount of techniques are VERY expensive, mind you!”

Angor laughed, a cackle almost. Larimar was confused, glaring at him.

“There is your nightly energy. Get up. I cooked.”

Ah, this was his plan. “Seriously? Dude, I’m tired.”

“You already did not eat breakfast, I heard not of you during your lunch, so either you come willing or I am dragging you out of that bed myself.” He glared at her, a smug grin on his face. “I am not letting you starve.”

Larimar groaned and rolled over on her bed, wrapping herself in the covers. Angor was not pleased by that. With a low hiss, he walked over once again, this time unceremoniously grabbing the woman by the torso with one hand and dragging her in her covers. She fought, but she could do little against her larger housemate.

“ANGOR, FUCK STOPE IIIT!!!”

It was only a minute until she was sat down on the couch and served a warm plate of rice and the leftover tuna paste. So that is what he “cooked”?

“If it sits in the ‘fridge’ for another day it will mold. So you eat it.”

“Why don’t YOU eat it?”

“Who was the one that insisted on buying the horrible paste?” He glared at her. Right, he didn’t like tuna. “And you also have not eaten.”

Sticking her tongue out in tease, she started eating, only then realizing how empty her stomach felt. The blue-haired devoured the rice and tuna. It was good, after all, she made it.

He just reheated the rice and put the paste on it. Either way, she was thankful. Someone did have to be the inventory manager, and she already managed enough as is.

Angor grabbed a packet of cinnamon sticks, eating them like cookies.

“You better not eat the entire thing, I was gonna make tea with it.”

“Again, you say that every time we go grocery shopping.”

“And? I meant it! Exactly what time at home did I have in the past week?”

“If you let me do it I wouldn’t eat the cinnamon you don’t use.”

“Last time, you almost burned the flat down. You heard what Britney said, either you keep off the kitchen or we’re both out of here.” She sat down the empty bowl in the sink, rinsing it before putting it in the dishwasher. “Look, it’s not my fault that you got kicked out of the sewers. SO deal with it.”

He sent toward her a not very polite gesture, which she reciprocated. Angor finished the last bit of the cinnamon sticks, before pulling the carving kit from under tha couch, he moved to the balcony, where he got to carving. Their etsy wasn’t bad, but it was low on business recently, the designs seemed not as appealing as once were.

Larimar caught sight, sighing, she went together and sat with him, grabbing her own unfinished commission. The bird totem she was making was simple, it was of a parrot, wings closed, feet open as it looked up curiously. The commissioner mentioned their love of birds, how that one was special for they worked with one. Larimar always enjoyed the little history behind the carvings made, she knew Angor did as well, even if he did not take the commissions.

Trauma’s a real bitch.

They sat quietly together, carving like they did when they met.

“I am off work tomorrow.”

“Which one?”

“Coffee shop and Diner! I only get half the day on the diner, actually but I at least got time to do groceries!”

“Good, I’ll go with you.” She turned to him, wide eyes in confusion. “What?”

“You. Wanna come with me to do groceries?”

“Yes?”

“Since when?”

“Since you only buy things that spoil.”

“Hey! You like some things that ‘spoil’ too!” She protested, taking another slip from the bird. “And don’t you like, have no idea how much money is worth?”

“And I am not going to find out if you don’t show me.” He glared back. “Besides, I can carry more than you do. And I do not like going to Trollmarket to eat.”

“Why? Isn’t food there made for trolls?”

“It is, but for one, I have my own diet. Secondly… I'd rather not come back poisoned.” another look of shock, Angor was swift to explain. “People still remember what I did and seldom forgive me.”

Alright, that was somewhat understandable. Didn’t he also die for them though? Meh, it was hard to understand.

“Alright, fine. I don’t see why not.”

He nodded, a wide grin revealing he was proud of himself, the reply being a roll of Larimar’s eyes.

She only lasted another ten minutes of carving, before her hands were becoming too tired to do anything else. So she crawled to bed, slithering under the blankets and leaving her roommate to his devices.

— — —

One grueling day of taking shit from customers later, Larimar bid farewell to her coworkers, slamming into her roommate on the door. Angor covered himself with a cape and long clothes, the usual attire at the beginning of the night for trolls nowadays.

The cape covered many of his cracks, his gloves were weighted, soothing some of the aches on his wrists. Larimar was no doctor, but friends said compression was good pain relief for some things. His right eye, perpetually closed after he lost his ocular globe, was covered by an eyepatch. It was quite the outfit, but the woman was not one to say anything, much less judgemental things.

“You ready?” She asks, tiredly stretching.

“As you humans say: ‘Let's go!’” He gestured to the sidewalk behind him.

Larimar chuckled, swerving on her heels, walking in the opposite direction. The troll merely rolled his eyes and followed, he was lost in the city since he wasn’t on the hunt for anything or anyone. It was sundown by now, the street lights began to turn on, house lights started coming on, there were more trolls on the streets and fewer humans. Since the “Hearthstone” or whatever died, a lot of trolls started coming to the surface, at least at night, to try to bask in some heat off of the leftover solar radiation.

Some humans change sidewalks whenever a troll passes by them, not caring about intention or what they seem to be doing. But Larimar kept going, bidding a polite greeting to the other trolls whenever it felt proper. If living in America taught her anything, was that there were many kinds of people, trolls were just people on the taller side. Most of the now fully acquitted troll residents greeted her warmly, some even knew her from the cafe and were especially kind.

Safe to say, it wasn’t the same for Angor. He was often met with cold glares and growls, even hisses, in some cases. Larimar didn’t know much of his history, simply he was disliked, she never understood exacly the extent of what he did to be like that. Besides the thing of allying with an evil witch who honestly might as well have brainwashed him, she was left in the dark, all she knew is he was changing and did not deserve the treatment.

Their arrival at the market where the woman did most of the shopping was a relief, it was a fairly small market but had good prices and a good selection of items. She had found it at the beginning of her stay at Arcadia and it had never let her down, not even once. So, naturally, the woman became the place's official favorite customer.

Crossing the double-sided doors, Angor was almost slapped in the face with all the smells. It wasn’t bad, but very strong. Spice racks were on one side, a selection of vegetables on another, drinks, and so on. For a small space, it made very good use of it.

Someone called Larimar from the register, catching both of their attention. “Larimar! Came back on quite the random day huh!”

She chuckled, which lowered Angor’s tension. She turned to the troll and explained. “That’s Berto! He’s the market owner!”

Berto looked from her to the troll she brought along, smiling as he finished wrapping up an old lady’s purchase. “You must be the grumpy roommate! Glad to finally meet you!” He gave a friendly wink, not even looking at the computer as he typed. “Well, Larimar will show you the ropes! Have fun! Mi market su market!”

Larimar nodded and kept moving, Angor following, watching intently as she picked a basket from a stack and started looking through the items. He could somewhat tell the contents in some packages, mostly the ones with clear containers, however, he was still getting used to the Latin alphabet. The woman knew, so she read the labels as she picked, helping explain whatever he didn’t understand about it and how to pick better.

Although it was a bit tiring to explain everything, she did admit it was nice having a taller person pick the top-shelf products she couldn’t reach. They were already through most of the list when Larimar noticed people staring, humans, of course. She turned to him, giving him her “how long?” look.

“Maybe half an hour.”

Daum. She was losing her awareness. “Good thing we’re almost done.”

Finally moving on to the dairy section, Angor noticed something from the corner of his eye, a section of “treats” as he was told. He had momentarily tried some, he could still remember the packaging of the one that did not taste horrible. He was supposed to start eating more, as the healer said, so, at least make it worth while.

“I’ll rejoin you in a second.”

Larimar chuckled, watching him go. “One. There.”

He turned back unimpressed, ignoring the pun and making his way to the shelf. Scanning it, there was no sign of the green package he remembered, nor any of the symbols he remembered. He took mental note to hurry up his learning of the human language.

A whimper took his attention, right next to him stood a small child, looking at him while clutching the edge of their shirt. For a moment, they stared at each other. Realizing he was likely intimidating while standing, he took a step beside and crouched down. For as young as the child seemed, they understood, approaching the shelf.

Looking through it, their eyes shone as they found what they searched on the highest shelf. Angor watched with the corner of his eye as the tiny one jumped, trying to reach it, only to fail and almost knocking the other ones below. It was a few more failed tries, before the child gave up. Sad semblance pouting with tears on their eyes.

As they were about to turn away, Angor picked the bag and handed to them. “Here. You wanted it, right?”

The child looks up, eyes bright and nods, taking it. “Thank you, Mr Troll!” They smiled. “Do you need help?”

Angor was surprised by the question, chuckling. “My… Eye doesn't work very well. Do you see anything vegan?”

The child took the mission with determined eyes, scanning the sections attentive to detail. It was a bit, as Angor was about to give up, when they spoke again.

“This one’s vegan!” They smile, pointing out a purple bag. “Look, this little leaf means it's vegan!”

They explain proudly, handing the bag that the troll took. “Ah! I see now! Thank you. It was of great help.”

The childs chest puffed up in pride as they ran to their parent not too far down the isle, watching the interaction with a soft smile as the child excited about the little conversation. When their eyes crossed, they nodded to him and he nodded back, making his way back to where Larimar stood. She had just picked the last item from the frozen section, putting it on the basket.

“Oh hey! Got yourself a treat huh?” The woman put the bag in the basquet and continued all the way to the cash register line.

There weren’t all those many people, some who had so little items the line went fast. He lowers himself to talk to Larimar more quietly. “Is it usually like this? Why do you take so long whenever you come here?”

“Because I do not come here on weekdays and whenever I do, I come at the same time as everyone does.” She explains calmly.

Then the sound of the door banging open alarms both of them, together with everyone in the store together with aggressive yelling. Berto was still at the cash register, the tension on his shoulders was clear from a mile, he looked around and tried to sneakily gesture everyone to back away. Angor and Larimar stood their ground, the woman put down the groceries and slid them out of the way, Angor himself slowly unwrapped his gloves and passed them onto his friend.

Not too long the perpetrators came into view, a bunch of teens wearing matching jackets, all with the symbol of horns along the arms and shoulders. It was a gang, a small one, but one nonetheless. The main head carried a wooden bat with him, clearly ready to do some damage. They started telling Berto he owed them, because they “protected the neighborhood from demons”, likely referring to trolls.

“I never asked for your protection! And neither do I need it!!” He screams at the youngsters. “So get your crew and get out!!!”

The gang wasn’t threatened, instead, they were angry. The one with the bat picked it up higher, ready to strike at the old vendor.

Well, Larimar and Angor weren’t gonna have it.

The troll jumped ahead, grabbing the bat and swiftly disarming the boy and taking the weapon. He passed the bat to Larimar, ready to give the group an earful. When he began to feel his skin burning, drying and cracking underneath the purple UV lights they carried.

He recoiled, hurting and unaware that they could carry those lights, he tried to protect his eye at least, the people behind him all distanced further. He could hear the young child from before yelling to his defense, pleading for the older children to stop. His limbs began feeling stiff, he needed to flee but there was nowhere to go, or else he’d risk breaking something in the shop.

That’s when Larimar appeared again, swinging the bat, she knocked one of the assaulters in the ribs, another one in the leg, successfully disloding his knee, the final one managed to take the bat back but the woman was swift. Still holding onto one of Angor’s weights and swung at the kid’s head, not strong enough to cause any permanent damage, but enough to at least confuse him enough to stop shining the UV ligth at her roomate.

Angor recollected himself, still sore from the onslaught of compressed sunlight. He stood tall, taking the lanterns and turning them off.

“Get out of here… Before you get more bruises.” He threatened, staring at the fallen cubs. “Your protection is never wanted here.”

The children, now weaponless and injured, looked up at him in fear as he crushed the lights in his palms. They all got up and left, running down the street screaming and dodging any other trolls in their wake. With them dealt with, Larimar turned to her friend, worry taking over her as she saw half his arm was dry and gray.

“Dude! Are you okay?!” She yelled, running to him and checking the damages. “Man, this looks painful…” He flinched when she touched it, which confirmed her expectations. “You’re gonna get this checked out…”

The troll nodded, turning back, the people were still afraid and some even looked worried. He took the basket with his hand and handed it to Larimar again, then walked towards the exit. She frowned, sighed and took the purchases with it. Took the items with a smile, tears in his eyes. They both noticed it but he did not say a word while packing their things, when it came for time to pay, $0,00 showed on the screen.

“Berto, what’re you doing?”

He took her hand gently. “You saved my shop. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you both were not here!” He gives a reassuring nod to Angor, showing gratitude. “Tonight it’s on me, alright?”

Confused, but also thankful, Larimar accepted the terms, promising on her mind to at least give a shit load of extra payment next time. As they headed off the store, the child came running from behind a set of shelves, waving their hand and shouting. “Bye, Mr Troll! Bye, cool lady!!”

Larimar waved back and Angor did as well, waiting till out of sight to cringe at the burns. They’d heal, slowly but surely, he just needed some clay to patch up and rehydrate his wounds. The human woman was frowning at him as they walked, he rolled his eye.

“What is it?”

“You promise you will go to get those burns checked!” It was not a question. “I will pester you about it until you do!”

He sighed, wrapping the weights on his hands again. “I will, I will…”

It was clear she was fuming, furious. “I can’t believe those dickheads… Berto didn’t deserve that…”

“Sometimes people think of glory, instead of actual heroism…” He sighs, looking over the new shallow cracks. “I did not know they could weaponize sunlight like that…”

“Well… It’s more a tool than a weapon for humans… But it’s never usually that bright…” Larimar handed Angor the keys to the apartment. “You can start putting things away if you want. I’m gonna make a call.”

Angor didn’t need much to figure out who she would call. “I’ve seen what your warriors do… I don’t believe it will be effective.”

Larimar turned with a tiredly soft expression, “Trust me, I wish I had the patience for the police. But they don’t care much for troll matters. However, Douxie said he knew someone who could handle these kinds of things.”

Albeit confused, Angor let her be, she was stubborn as a mule, after all. He retreated inside, laying the groceries on the kitchen counter, he shut the curtains of the small balcony and laid down on the hardwood floor with his eye on the ceiling. The pain wasn’t unfamiliar, after all it was hard to forget the Trollhunter’s trap.

It was incredibly well laid out.

Looking back, he felt like a fool. Angry at a whelp for something he did to himself, in more ways than one. Now the pain of his body mixed with the pain in his mind, another torture sinked into his being.

The sound of the door brought him back and he found Larimar coming in, a lot calmer it seemed, carrying a bag different than the ones Berto had given them. Still under his gaze, the human retrieved a bowl from the cabinets and filled it with water, setting the down the heavy bag near him with the bowl. It fell slightly open, the earthy smell of clay quickly taking over his senses.

His puzzled look reached her, “Turns out Douxie had shit loads of knowledge on what to do. So. I got you some clay from our sweet potter neighnoor! Remember to thank Sally!”

She smiled, moving back into the kitchen and starting to put the items away. Angor huffy chuckles, wetting his hands and starting to apply the clay, it wa an almost perfect match to his skintone. Both continued their selected tasks, till the troll broke the silence.

“If you get the ‘oven’ going, I know how to make tea with the leftover cinnamon sticks.”

“Dude, you don’t have to. Also its stove. Oven is where you bake things.”

“Listen to me. I do not have your currency in any capacity. You… Saved me. So. Let me repay you somehow.” He continued, carefully scrapping a squashed piece of clay off the floor. “I’ll pester you until you let me.”

Larimar turned back, weighing her options. So with a small laugh, she agreed.

He was made “tea maker” that night.

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters #angor rot #Trollhunters oc Larimar #Larimar and Friend

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