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“I’m starting to think we should’ve brought a map.”
Hilda looks up from where she’s finished binding a bushel of spruce boughs together at Frida, who is frowning up at the sky.
“It’s getting dark, and we still aren’t back to the wall.”
“We’ll make it,” Hilda claps her hands together firmly, dislodging snow off her mittens. “the tree doesn’t bloom until later tonight, anyway.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” her witch replies, walking over and picking up Hilda’s bushel of boughs and placing it in her bag. “you know how your mums worry when you- we- stay out later than we’re supposed to, especially on trips outside the wall.”
“We’ll be safe, though. You’ve got your magic and I’ve got my sword.” Hilda smiles crookedly, patting the sheathe belted to her side. “Anything would have to be positively insane to mess with us.”
Frida giggles, the sound setting a warmth alight in Hilda’s chest. “Hilda, no.”
“Hilda, yes,” she retorts, grinning wider. Quick as a whip, she draws her sword and wraps her arm around Frida’s waist, holding her close and brandishing her sword at the darkness of the forest.
“Fear not, milady, for nothing can harm you when I, Hilda the Adventurer, am here to protect you!”
“Oh, shove off,” Frida laughs, pushing off of Hilda and drawing her wand, the tip lighting up with a familiar blue glow. “you know I’m fully capable of protecting myself!”
“I know,” Hilda twirls her sword. “but what kind of Familiar would I be if I couldn’t protect my witch?”
Frida’s laughter subsides into a soft smile, and she cups Hilda’s cheek with the hand that doesn’t hold her wand. “You’d still be wonderful Familiar even if you didn’t know how to use a sword.”
Hilda blushes and presses her face into her girlfriend’s hand. “Shush.”
“No.” Frida’s eyes twinkle
“Yes, you’re being embarrassing.” Hilda giggles bashfully, finally standing up straight. “Anyway, back home, now?”
“Yes, I suppose that’d be the best course of action, currently,” Frida mutters something under her breath, and she swings it ‘round. “now, home should be…”
Her wand flares, and Frida smiles. “That way.”
“Homing pigeon but magic,” Hilda comments.
“Odd comparison, but sure.”
~~~
Stars are starting to twinkle in the darkening sky when they finally reach the wall. Hilda can hear the hustle and bustle of Trolberg behind it, as well as faint festive music- it’s that time of year in Trolberg, after all, where most music being played publicly is of the Sonstansil-excitment variety. Frida cranes her head up to look at the lights playing over the low-hanging clouds.
“You think we can make it in time?”
“I think we’ve got an hour and a half, right now,” Hilda answers, swinging Frida’s hand to-and-fro as they start angling towards the opening in the wall where the trains come through. “sun’s not completely down, yet, and the tree usually blooms about and hour and fifteen after sunset. Shouldn’t take us too long to get back to my flat, either.”
“We’ve got to put up these branches, too,” Frida hikes up her bag. “your mum said she wanted the decorations up before we went to see the tree.”
“That shouldn’t take too long,” Hilda waves her hand dismissively, “we were gonna put them in vases around the flat. All that’s needed is a little trimming and water, really.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Frida acquiesces.
Hilda hums a few bars of a Sonstansil song stuck in her head as they go, the few inches of snow on the ground softly crunching under their boots. Frida eventually joins in when Hilda starts to actually sing, their voices carrying gently through the snowy forest along the wall.
Frida breaks off suddenly, tugging at Hilda’s hand. “Hilda, Hilda-“
“Huh? What is it?”
“Look!” Frida points ahead of them, where a warm light bobs through the trees.
Hilda draws up short, hand going to her sword. “Will-o’-the-wisp?” Dangerous buggers, those. They’d hypnotize you and lead you into the dark, never to return, if you weren’t careful.
“No, it’s too late in the year for them. Also, they’re typically shades of blue or green.”
“So, what is it then?”
Frida eyes the bobbing light warily. “I don’t know, but be careful.” Her hand goes to her wand, and Hilda quietly draws her sword, releasing Frida’s hand. No sense in letting… whatever it is know they’re armed, after all. They’ll have the element of surprise this way.
They duck behind a tree and wait. Hilda strains her ears, and hears… snow crunching under boots?
“Frida, I think it’s a person,” Hilda whispers, tugging on Frida’s coat.
Frida blinks, and lowers her wand. “You think?”
“I can hear boots. Last I checked, humans are really the only thing that wear shoes. Y’know, other than that ghost that stole David’s.”
“Hm.” Frida slips her wand back into her pocket, but keeps her hand there, presumably keeping a hold of her wand so she can whip it back out in a moment’s notice if necessary. Hilda sheathes her sword again, and steps out from behind the tree.
“Hello?”
“Ho, there,” a man’s voice calls back. “is that you, Hilda?”
“Mr. Bellkeeper?”
From out of the gloom, the warm light coalesces into a lantern, held aloft by the Bellkeeper himself. He’s got his normal yellow coat on, but there’s a scarf wrapped around his neck and he’s wearing a pair of earmuffs. He sighs at the sight of the two of them.
“Ah, there you are. I got sent lookin’ for you two. Your mum and Gerda are worried about’chya, Hilda.”
Hilda winces and scuffs the toe of her boots against the snow. “I figured as much. We got a little lost on the way back.”
The Bellkeeper huffs. “Normally not like you to get lost.”
Hilda shrugs noncommittally, and the Bellkeeper sighs.
“Ah, anyway,” he says, swinging the lantern to the side. “I’d best get you two back. The last thing I want ‘round these times is Gerda on my back.”
It’s said with a small smile, and Hilda huffs out a small laugh. He’s not angry with her; if she had to guess- and she’s not the best at reading people- he’s relieved that they’re okay. She doesn’t think he’s much one to get mad, either, which is a relief.
Frida takes Hilda’s hand again, and turns to the Bellkeeper. “Alright, sir. Lead the way.”
~~~
It takes them about a half-hour’s walk to get back to the flat. Sonstansil preparations are in full swing on the way there, people hanging out wreathes and putting the final touches on window displays in the residential and commercial areas of the city respectively. The Bellkeeper, on his way to her flat with them, had stopped at his hut quickly to drop off his lantern, and is now directing the two of them through the lobby and up the stairs of Hilda’s apartment building.
Hilda looks at him from out of the corner of his eye. He looks distinctly uncomfortable, and has been looking like that ever since they got further into Trolberg. Hilda knows that feeling. Moving to Trolberg after living in the unpopulated Wilderness all her life made all the people around her feel like too much. The Bellkeeper must not get out into the city much, either.
Soon enough (too soon?), Hilda’s flat’s door looms in front of them. The Bellkeeper reaches out, hesitates just a moment, and finally raps twice. A muffled “Coming!” sounds from within.
The door opens, and Mum stands there.
“Oh, Mr. Bellkeeper- Hilda!”
“Hi, Mum,” Hilda waves awkwardly, before being swept up into a hug.
“I was worried sick about you!” Mum scolds, leaning back and frowning.
Hilda winces. “Sorry. Got a little lost.”
“Hmm.” Mum sighs, but she relaxes, shaking her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Talent.” Frida deadpans from the doorway. Hilda pouts at her.
“Yes, I suppose,” Mum quirks a smile. “I am surprised, though, you two. You’re supposed to be better at this Wilderness stuff.”
“You know, even the most experienced Wilderness guide can get turned around in the forest at dusk,” a voice says from behind Mum. She steps to the side, and Gerda comes from the direction of the kitchen. “the shadows can make things look wiggly.”
Mum raises an eyebrow. “Wiggly.”
“Yes. Light plays tricks on the eye and turns colors different. It can be very dangerous if you are not in an area you are familiar with.”
Mum turns an eye on Hilda at that and Hilda pouts at her.
“Hey, I knew that area!”
“Mostly.” Frida says.
“Hey!”
“Well, anyway,” the Bellkeeper interrupts, looking a bit awkward as he stands just outside the doorway. “here’s the girls. I’ll be going now, if you don’t need anything more.”
Gerda sizes him up, stopping him before he can take a step. “You are not doing anything for Sonstansil, are you.” It’s not a question.
The man shrugs. “Eh, not really. Was just going to have a cup of tea and go to bed. Nice night, but I’m not really one for-“
“Why don’t you join us?” Mum cuts in before he can finish. “We were going to watch the Blooming, then come back here and have a Sonstansil dinner. We have plenty of food, and the more the merrier for the event of the night, itself.”
“Yes, why don’t you!” Hilda says quickly, before the Bellkeeper can object.
Frida steps forward, putting a hand on Hilda’s shoulder. “You’ve been such a help today, and it would be nice to be able to repay you somehow,” she adds, Hilda nodding along.
“It would be nice,” Gerda adds helpfully, and puts her hands on her hips. “consider it a thank-you from me for the support while on duty.”
The Bellkeeper pauses, then sighs, resigned. Hilda smothers a smirk. She may not like the Safety Patrol as a whole, but Gerda’s always been a favorite of hers (and not just because she’s dating Mum), and Hilda knows it’s stuff like this- thanking good officers- that makes the people working under her like her. The Bellkeeper probably would have refused if it was anyone else, but it’s Gerda asking, so no wonder he gave in.
The more the merrier, after all.
~~~
The crowd around them murmurs excitedly as the Blooming draws nearer. Hilda huddles closer to Frida, her breath steaming in the chilled air. Snow-laden clouds are gathering on the horizon, but the sky above Trolberg is clear, and the moon shines bright on them from above. The stars wink through the atmosphere, and Hilda thinks about tall mountains and deep valleys and how she’s glad she gets to be here, in Trolberg, with her family, during Sonstansil. She didn’t know what Sonstansil was before moving to Trolberg, but she’s glad she does, now. It’s a wonderful time.
She looks over at the Bellkeeper. Even if he’s standing a little apart, he’s still part of their little group. Mum and Gerda stand a little behind him, Gerda’s arm wrapped around Mum’s waist, and Mum bending down just a little to pat Tontu’s head. He’d agreed to come with, doing his best “of course I’m a human” impression in his little orange jacket. She can’t see him, but Hilda knows Alfur’s here, too, probably talking with Gerda about such and such. (Probably paperwork.) Twig butts up against her leg, and Hilda scratches between his antlers.
It’s nice, with all of them there.
They’d put the pine bundles out before they’d left the flat, as well, with little vases of the stuff all over the living room and kitchen with some colorful ribbons for decoration. The pine was supposed to invoke the idea of the Sonstansil tree, Mum had told her on her first Sonstansil. It was a very important event, so all the decoration was to commemorate it.
Hilda thinks it’s pretty, any which way it’s put. And it makes the flat smell nice.
“It’s colder out than I expected,” Frida says, burying her nose in her scarf. Hilda squeezes her hand and blows steam into the air, watching it dissipate.
“I like it. Good excuse to get cocoa, later.”
Frida hums in agreement, then shuffles a little closer to the Bellkeeper, pulling Hilda along with her.
“Do you like cocoa, Mr. Bellkeeper?” Frida asks, looking up at him.
He blinks down at them, seemingly taken off-guard by the question. “I like it well enough. I prefer tea, though.”
“Oh, definitely,” Hilda nods. “peppermint tea is my personal favorite. Cocoa’s good for cold days, though.”
“I guess I can’t argue with that,” the man shrugs, looking up at the tree.
Hilda purses her lips. She knows the Bellkeeper hasn’t really ever been too talkative, but he seems preoccupied.
“If it isn’t too personal, sir,” she starts, “may I ask why you seem quiet, tonight? You’re just…” she trails off, slightly uncertain of what to say.
“You seem very uncomfortable,” Frida fills in for her, and Hilda nods.
“Yeah. You don’t have to answer if it is too personal, though,” Hilda adds hurriedly, not wanting to seem pushy. She knows she can come off a bit too strong, sometimes, and she’s been working to fix that.
The Bellkeeper is quiet for a few seconds, just long enough for the silence to start being uncomfortable. Hilda’s about to apologize for even saying anything when he finally speaks.
“It’s…” he starts, looking into the distance, “I’m usually not around many people. Not like this. I go into the city, yeah, but for groceries and the like. Not… events like this. With people here for one specific purpose.
“And,” he sighs, “I haven’t really been social in a good long while. It’s…”
“Surprising,” Hilda finishes. He looks at her with something like surprise, and she shrugs.
“I lived with just my Mum and Twig out in the Wilderness for most of my life. We only just moved to Trolberg relatively recently- I didn’t even know what Sonstansil was until Frida and David explained it to me!” Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Frida smiling at her. She rubs Frida’s hand a little with her thumb in response. “But, I get it. The first time I saw so many people in one place was the Bird Parade, right after we moved in! It was crazy!” Hilda makes a wide gesture, encompassing the crowd with a wave of her her arm.
“And I wasn’t really sure what to do, because I’d never experienced something like that, before. But you know what I did, Mr. Bellkeeper?” She looks at him, and he looks at her, eyebrows raised. Hilda shrugs, smiling, and nods at Mum. “I stuck to someone I knew, and who knew how to… be in a crowd, I guess. So that’s what you should do!” Hilda sets her free hand on her hip. “You just need to stick with us, and you’ll be alright.”
The man blinks, then huffs, a small smile on his face.
“You’re a good kid, Hilda. I’ll give you that,” he says, and Hilda beams at him. “And… I guess I’ll stay. The tree is always a pretty sight, anyway.”
“It’s lovely to have you here, sir,” Frida says, and Hilda smiles.
“Yes, truly.”
A shout rings out across the crowd before anyone can say anything else, and Hilda snaps her head around to the tree.
It’s blooming.
Beautiful white flowers open up, their glow spilling out over the branches and the snow and the crowd. The golden glow pierces the night, warming the shadows into silky pools of ink and setting the snow a-glitter.
The crowd does not cheer- the Sonstansil tree is a sight to behold in murmurs, not in yells. It’s too regal for that. Hushed awe falls over all assembled, and Hilda and Frida lean into each other. Hilda looks over to see Mum and Gerda doing the same.
The Bellkeeper stands alone, though- but it’s not something bad, Hilda thinks. The man is looking up into the boughs of the tree, the warm light softening his time-worn features. He looks contemplative, and at peace, and Hilda smiles.
~~~
After a while, the crowd begins to dissipate, and their little group starts making their way back to Hilda’s flat. They browse through the stalls a little bit, purchasing a few baubles here and there, and picking up a cake for dessert. They get cocoa.
Dinner that night is warm, with glowing laughter and soft gazes.
He’s quiet, but it’s apparent: the Bellkeeper is content, and looks at ease- a rare affair in and of itself.
The night turns late, and goodbyes are said. They’re not farewells, though- they’re promises to see everyone again, and to keep the air of lightness that had settled over them all.
Nothing is certain, after all, but familiarity is a glue that keeps peace clinging where it can.
And it becomes tradition, after that, for the Bellkeeper to join them for Sonstansil.
Fin
