My little sunshine

Chapter 11: It's okay, You're okay, I'm here

I know that some of the lyrics don't make sense given the context of this fic and the lore of the Trollhunters show with the " the sun could go out we're going to be okay"  line implying that the sun going out being a bad thing while the whole point of Gunmar's grand plan to take over the surface by creating the eternal night was so that Trolls didn't have to worry about the sun anymore. But I also thought that the song fits the mood for this chapter perfectly. Also from this point forward I will use Gumm-gumm after I found out that I was spelling this wrong this whole time (oops)

This chapter is back to Bular's P.O.V.

*English text                         * Trollish text

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* A few hours later*

Bular suddenly woke up to the sound of crying. At first he was confused until he looked down and remembered everything that had happened earlier when he saw the whelp crying in his arms. When Bular unwrapped the fur pelt that the whelp was wrapped in  after seeing how much the little one was squirming he then slapped himself on the forehead when he realized that in his sleep deprived state he forgot to give the whelp any form of a diaper after he bathed him.

Bular groaned in annoyance when he heard some of the goblins loitering in his hideout snickering and holding in their laughter seeing the Gumm-Gumm princes foolishness. Bular gave the goblins a intimidating and  fearsome glare causing the simple creatures to run away in terror as he got up from his throne to get a new fur pelt, get the whelp bathed again, And FINALLY put a diaper on the whelp so that he doesn't soil himself again.

After Bular finished his tasks he moved on to making and warming some more formula when he realized that the whelp was hungry.  As Bular waited for the bottle to be properly warmed he started to think of how the whelp will get bigger and require more milk later on in order to become a healthy and strong child... 

But there was a voice in the back of Bular's mind asking him if a whelp can truly grow up properly being fed baby formula made for human whelps. Bular started to worry that the whelp wouldn't get all of the proper nutrients that the little one needed with the limited resources that he had.

The whelp continued to cry in Bular's arms snapping the Gumm-gumm back to reality, while he was relived to hear that the whelp's voice didn't sound as strained as before after getting some rest. He still hated seeing the little one being distressed so he did his best to comfort the whelp by placing him on his shoulder and patting his back gently as possible.

" Shh, Shh, Shhhh, It's okay, you're okay, I know you're hungry, your meal is almost ready you just have to wait a little longer... I promise you ... you don't have to worry anymore" 

The whelp seemed to have understood Bular's words as he quieted down and hugged Bular's Shoulders as best as he could with his little arms. Bular decided to give the whelp a little nuzzle on the cheek hearing the whelp whimpering... he couldn't help but be amazed of how wonderful the newborn whelp's scent was and held his breath unconsciously not wanting to let go of the scent just yet. 

To Bular, the scent gave him a sense of comfort and peace that he hadn't felt in centuries and was slightly disheartened when he had to exhale. As soon as the bottle was warmed up to the proper temperature he took the bottle into his spare hand and began feeding the whelp.

" That's it there you go.... it's okay,  you're okay, I'm here" Bular spoke to the whelp in a quiet and calm voice as he began feeding the whelp. Bular was feeling content with the moment he shared with the whelp unaware of the bond that was forming between them.