Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Ahhh! Help! Somebody stop this thing!”

Alfur was the first elf from the Northern Colonies to visit Trolberg, but that had begun a while ago, so it made sense that others had moved in during that time, guiding their lifestyle choices using his reports as reference. Hilda wasn’t one to question the specifics, though—especially when one of those houses had been carried off by a flailing chunk of earth with legs.

“We’re coming for you!” The pursuant girl paused in the alleyway long enough to shout her affirmation, before taking off down the pavement again.

It was a long chase down familiar streets, months of living in Trolberg having trained Hilda to cross through them with relative ease, even at a brisk pace.

It seemed like they were finally closing in by the time the walking land had reached the railroad tracks, only for the environment to slow them down more from having to jump over obstacles with shorter legs, all while keeping their eyes on their target. But this wasn’t Hilda’s first chase, even though a difficult one: she knew to let the details blend together into the background, contrasting her typically impulsive span of attention.

The tracks blurred together as Hilda gained on the runaway creature, boots smacking against the ground quieting as they came upon softer land. But she nearly halted when something came to her attention. “Wait.” There was a large circle of boulders nearby, the size and shape an unmistakable sign that these were no ordinary rocks. “Trolls? This doesn’t make any sense.”

The last time a troll had entered the city was through a Vittra tunnel, but that was a mother recovering her misplaced child. “This is like a whole crusade. Why would they risk coming inside the walls and into the city of bells? And at a time that made them turn to stone before they could do anything?”

Whatever the case, it was a question for later: the stolen elf and his house were still on the move. A small house was coming up, built separate from the matchbox housing of the city. Seeing an opportunity to slip out of reach, the walking land creature skidded to the side and darted underneath the crawlspace.

Hilda quickly planned ahead, circling the house and waiting on the other side. Twig understood the assignment as well, continuing the chase to flush it back out. But just as he was about to spring underneath, there was a loud CLANK that made him flinch in surprise, and then a THUD to incite a cringe from Hilda. “Ooh, sounds like it hurt itself.”

Determined and concerned, Hilda ducked down and peered into the crawlspace. The creature had planted its face(?) into the ground; the house had popped off and landed in a soft patch of dirt. “I’ll take that!” Hilda announced as she reached out and lifted the miniature building into the light, a brief lookover showing no signs of serious damage.

“Are you okay in there?” The Huldun homeowner wobbled over to his window and worked his way through the dizziness, giving her what seemed to be the elf equivalent of a thumbs-up. “Heh. Good job, boy! Let’s go!” She called out to Twig.

But the deer-fox seemed to be preoccupied with something. Hilda crouched back down and looked around for him. “Twig?” She found him by the walking land, but his attention wasn’t on the creature itself, but on the object that had tripped it, the deer-fox exhibiting a mixture of concern and curiosity.

From what Hilda could tell, it appeared to be a stone half-buried in the dirt. It apparently had a perfectly smooth spherical shape, a trait that was occasionally found in river rocks but unlikely this far inland. Unless…could that be another young troll, kept in its stone form by the partial sunlight from the porch? “Maybe that’s what the other trolls came here for?” Hilda could easily picture them ripping the whole house off of its hinges to retrieve the child, if that were the case.

Hilda set the elf house down and crawled over to the concealed stone, bunching the sleeves of her jumper around her forearms as she reached out and grabbed the round stone, confusion budding as the texture wasn’t that of a typical rock. “Feels like…tin?” She pulled until the soil gave way, rolling the suspected troll out into full view, eyes widening at the sight.

“This is no troll rock.” The suspicion of tin was in the right neighborhood—it was a grey metal of some kind. Its exterior was ridged with curved plating, almost like a pillbug but at the size of a large football. “What is this thing?”

Just then, the sound of a ringing bell jolted Hilda up, nearly bumping her head on the foundation. She came out of the crawlspace and yelped as the tines of a pitchfork came within inches of her face. Holding it was a well-built man with orange hair, wearing a red button-up shirt, workman’s pants, and tan boots that had been browned from hours spent toiling the land. He turned his head and got a better look at his target, “Oh, you’re not a troll.”

Hilda hopped up to her feet and brushed away the dirt clumps from her clothes. “I’m not. But even if I was, wouldn’t I be a rock right now? It’s daytime, after all.” The line seemed to put the burly man at ease, until he gazed down at the metallic orb in Hilda’s grasp. “And what exactly, pray tell, are you doing with that thing?”

Hilda smiled sheepishly. “I found it under your house, and I was curious. It wasn’t plugged in, so I don’t think it’s an appliance or generator, or at least not one that was doing anything. What is it, exactly?”

“Beats me. Might be one of Van Gale’s contraptions; they’ve been finding those on occasion ever since the avalanche.” The mere mention of that name filled Hilda with disgust. “Ugh. Then I should probably turn it into Safety Patrol before it does anything weird.”

“You can take care of that.” He set the end of the pitchfork down in the soil. “Sorry for being jumpy, anyways. Some trolls cleared my field last night and took my goat; the stress is starting to catch up with me.”

“But how are there trolls inside of the wall?” Hilda now recalled the circle of boulders she’d passed on the way. “Do you think they’re rooting around inside Vittra tunnels?”

The man gave Hilda a confused look. “Um, which side of the wall do you think you’re on, exactly?” He pointed off to the side, and Hilda followed his gaze to a realization: the curve of the wall bent away from them, not towards. And one of the railway arches–the sole entrances to Trolberg that didn’t close at night–lay exactly in the path she’d taken. Hilda came to a sensible (and frankly, obvious) conclusion: she’d exited the city without noticing.

“Ah, we must have followed the train tracks through, when we were chasing that thing. My bad.” It’s not like this was the most dangerous thing she’d ever been known to do, but her mother would likely still give her a look when she told her. “Do trolls normally come this close to the wall?”

The man shook his head. “No, but they’re everywhere lately. As if the Vittra tunnels weren’t bad enough…” He gave her a shrug before walking off. “Well, I’m going in to eat my dinner now.”

Just then, the elf poked out of his displaced home and waved for Hilda’s attention. “Pardon me. I also have a dinner engagement–I would appreciate a prompt return to my neighborhood.”

——————————

Setting the elf house down in its neighborhood on the opposite side of the wall as the Lost Clan, Hilda tended to the large metallic orb. “If Van Gale made this, I probably shouldn’t leave it laying around.” She was already late for dinner, but this was important enough to make an additional stop.

She went to pick it up, but felt it slip from her dirtied hands and smacked against a proper stone with another CLANK. But this time, the blow had a sort of real-world impact. The ridged edges then sizzled as they came open, revealing a dark hollow interior; Hilda had been expecting at the time to see a series of nameless cogs and gears, like how one might imagine to be a machine’s innards, but the orb was instead hollow, bearing a slight whirring sound and…

An eerie lime-green light was at the center of the space. It was surrounded by a flat circle atop a black band, thin and contrasted by a white bulging line along the length. “Is that a wristwatch?” Its design choices didn’t match what Hilda saw as Victoria Van Gale’s own, but she was the only genius that she knew of being in the area–maybe it really was hers?

The sounds from the pods innards quieted all of a sudden, and Hilda watched as the strange device felt limp as she tilted the canister slightly. It slid closer to her, and in her traditional habit of curiosity, she couldn’t resist. She reached inwards to pick it out…

But she gasped as the device reversed the gesture, becoming the grabber instead as it latched onto her exposed left wrist. “What the–?!”

——————————

“Get it off, get it off!” Hilda fell on her side and pulled on the strange device to no avail. She knocked it vigorously against the rock, and yanked at it using her fingernails. No luck; it had grabbed on like a lasso and stuck to her like glue.

“Twig! Here, boy!” The deerfox tentatively approached and sniffed the watch, bucking a little bit before Hilda explained, “Maybe you can pry help it off?” With that, Twig lowered his head and Hilda ran the band along one of his antlers, trying to catch the end and jimmy herself free, but she couldn’t find any sort of gap–only leaving microscopic abrasions on her skin from the sharpness. “Ugh, it’s no good.”

Whatever this device may be, it wasn’t going anywhere. As such, Hilda had little reason not to let curiosity take the wheel again; she looked at it from up close, seeing that the dial wasn’t showing the time as a proper watch did, only an empty hourglass symbol but without sand. “That could’ve been a fun image.” All she could find was a button on the side, perhaps it would turn on if she pressed it?

And it did; the dial sprung upwards with a click, showing a cylinder underneath with lines down the sides, lit-up with a lime green color. There was a series of beeps that happened at the same time, synchronized with the dial lighting up--green again, which wasn't really Hilda’s color. The hourglass symbol then inverted into a kite shape, and then a figure appeared in the center of the screen. It looked like a person of some kind, but with enlarged hands, two-toed feet, and a jagged shape around the head: perhaps made from hair, horns, fins? With all of the creatures Hilda had met in this world, nothing was off of the table.

“So, what? Is this supposed to do something?” Hilda wondered, but just then, a shout came from the man’s house. “Hey! What’s with all of that racket out there?” She jumped up and remembered that she was wasting time. She pressed the button to make the device turn off, but it wouldn’t, still chirping away with the drone of mechanical beeps. “Will you quit it! I’ll look into you later!” She smacked her hand against the noisy device a few times out of frustration, until coming down on the dial and pressing it in, the dial planting back into the main band.

Hilda felt a sudden oncoming…buzzing. For a split second, she felt a rush through her body, heart rate kicking up and breathing paused. And then….

A burst of light filled the area, blinding Hilda for a second and making her stumble back, until her back found purchase against a nearby tree trunk. She felt everything return to feeling typical before opening her eyes, and felt herself…puzzled. The ground seemed a lot further away now than it was before, and the air around her was cooler–winter was on the way after all, but this was different. She also couldn’t feel the fabric of her sweater anymore…or anything else…

“Yipe!” Hilda looked over to see Twig visibly afraid, taking a few steps backwards before turning tail and hiding behind the pod entirely. “Twig, what’s the matter, boy?” She stepped closer and heard him whimper, a realization that made her chest tighten. “Why are you afraid? It’s me, Hilda–”

This second realization was stranger: this wasn’t her voice. It was noticeably deeper and…crackling, as if her words were filtered through a lit campfire in her throat. She put a hand to her neck to see if anything felt off…and it did. Her neck was swollen into a thick collar, almost feeling like there was a ring of rock over her shoulders. And as she felt along the surrounding areas, a lot of it was equally rigid.

Now having the courage to look down, Hilda saw that her body was visibly different. Illuminated by pure heat, she was made from segmented lava rock with molten veins separating them. There was a badge on her chest with a grey-version of the hourglass symbol from the watch, which had mysteriously disappeared. Two-toed feet, enlarged hands, and her head…judging by the rest of her body, she now recognized the subtle roaring in her ears: her head was on fire.

Though come to think of it, she was made of rocks and lava. Despite the fact that she wasn’t in pain, that meant that ALL OF HER was on fire.

“AHHHHH!” Awareness kicked it finally and Hilda fell to the ground, rolling around in a dry patch of soil to try and extinguish herself. She kicked up a lot of dust and scuffed the dirt in various places, but the fire didn’t go out. “Wait, there’s a stream not too far from here!”

She ran along the open path into the forest and quickly located the creek, throwing herself into the spray recklessly, not paying any mind to the rocks as she smacked against them, a burst of steam following suit. Fortunately, the impact didn’t cause hurt thanks to her durable rocky frame. Unfortunately, being extinguished REALLY hurt. She scrambled out of the water as her body sizzled in the open air, before evaporating and then reigniting seconds later.

“This is just perfect.” Just then, a familiar voice appeared next to her. “Monster!” She turned her head to see the farmer standing before her, aiming a fire extinguisher at her. “Demon!”

“I’m not a demon! Please don’t use that, it really hurts when I’m not–” she yelped in pain as the man sprayed anyways, catching her in the face and chest. She stumbled back and coughed up foam, as the man prepared to fire again. “You set this forest on fire, and I ought to cut this off at the source!”

“No, I didn’t! I was trying to–” she then noticed the glow from the direction in which she came. In fact, the same direction as the tree against which she leaned…right after her body ignited. She turned her head and saw that the accusation was correct: the entire line of trees at the entrance were up in flames. “No, no no no!” She put her hands up defensively. “I didn’t mean to do that! I swear!”

“Back down, demon!” He gestured the nozzle towards her again. “Why should I believe the likes of you?” Hilda stammered for a bit, gazing at the burning trees and plants that were all because of her. “I don’t–I would never want this!” She gestured to the fire. “I want it out just like…” The fire nearest to her, a little one no bigger than a baseball, suddenly fizzled out into a cloud of embers, and darted into the palm of her hand.

Both of them were equally taken aback by this. They stood for a moment in surprise, before the man furrowed his brow again. “Now you can draw in the flames? What kind of a demon are you?!” Hilda could only look at the near inferno at the edge of the forest, and focused both of her hands. There was a pull in her gut as the blaze seemed to require effort to summon, but she held strong until the flames spiraled into her hands and left their sources behind, burnt to a crisp. But the threat to the rest of the forest was gone.

“Thank goodness that I can do…that.” But the man still hit her with another blast of foam, inspiring her to flee the sight down the forest path. She ran to a dry dirt area until she was sure she wasn’t followed, and took a breather. “What do I do now?” She looked down at her fire-absorbing…and starting, hands.

She didn’t mean it, but it looked to be non-optional, now that she was like this. Twig was too afraid to be around her, and that salt-of-the-earth man thought she was a monster. “What will Mum think of me?” No good parent would find arson to be a safe pastime for children, which counted Johanna out for sure. And how was she supposed to go indoors like this, stand on hardwood floors or the rug, eat dinner or sleep in her bed?

She could almost feel tears coming on, assuming that it would be possible in this form, when her spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a round of fluctuating noises from the device. She looked down to see the grey-hourglass on her chest flashing a red color, followed by a louder series of beeps, like a more terse version of when an electronic toy was dropped into a tub of water…

Just then, a bright red flash filled the area, and Hilda opened her eyes to see that the ground had returned to the same level as before, or more specifically, she had. She looked down to see that she was back to her normal self, with regular human skin and clothes on her. Barring the lingering smoke in the air, there was no trace of flame anywhere on her.

“Whew.” She then turned her attention to the device clamped around her arm. Under normal circumstances, something as wondrous and surprising as shapeshifting would be right up Hilda’s alley, but not when it came at the cost of the surrounding forest. She looked over at the blackened and smoky remains of the outer wood, lamenting the irony in the girl who’d been camping since before she could speak, being the one to let a fire get out of control. “I’m sorry…”

Just then, the bell tower across the city rang out, and Hilda remembered something: she was late for dinner before, but now she was going to be really late now. As long as she didn’t touch the watch again, she could probably get away with dinner before handing it off to Safety Patrol.

Chapter Text

Twig had been taken aback by the experience of watching Hilda’s figure being replaced by one of fire and stone, but he seemed to have recovered quickly–was he even aware that she had transformed, or just that she’d been swapped with some creature?

Whatever he believed, Twig seemed in better spirits now. Once that was settled in Hilda’s mind, the two of them hurried back to Trolberg and into the apartment building, spiraling up the stairs towards their flat. They were already very late for dinner, and it wasn’t going to be a pretty conversation when she was asked why.

She was still deep in debate with herself on whether or not to mention it at all, much less that the watch was still attached to her, had caused the fire, and wouldn’t come off no matter how hard she tried. Should she really keep a secret from her mum, or, since the problem wasn’t going away anytime soon, was she better off not being made to worry over something that couldn’t be fixed?

But to her surprise, Hilda ran up to the door and found it ajar. A few shadows looming near the opening, and a haughty yet presentable voice narrating.

“...showing the epitome of the dangers that lie in a troll encounter, namely with children, that has inspired this decision!” Hilda couldn’t place a name to its source; it was unlike Mum to have visitors, as Hilda was typically the one to bring home guests, and they were usually David and Frida or some creature–none of which would explain the haughty tone, unless her mum had somehow corralled a weather spirit into their dining room, for who-knows-what possible reason.

Hilda double-checked that the watch was concealed under her sleeve before crossing the threshold, and found her mother in her familiar maroon jumper. She stood before two people, a man and a woman both dressed in the standard brown garb of Trolberg’s own Safety Patrol; Hilda had her own concerns about their beliefs following the Jellybean incident, but had chosen to put that behind her–they were acting on missing information, and might have tried something that wouldn’t hurt the Black Hound, if they’d only been told the truth about him.

“Mum?” Hilda queried, causing all three adults to turn their heads to view the blue-haired child standing in the flat’s entryway. The man turned and spoke first, “Ah! This must be Hilda, I reckon!” He cleared his throat and spoke grimly, “I’m Erik Ahlberg, new head officer of Trolberg Safety Patrol.” He gestured to the platinum blonde woman on his right. “This is Gerda Gustav, my associate.”

“Associate deputy officer.” The woman quickly corrected. “You can call me ‘Deputy’ for short, though.”

Erik picked back up from there. “We’ve just been discussing recent events with your mother, and we have some news regarding you, young Hilda. Something…quite serious.”

Recent events? The hairs on her neck stood up at that–not too recent, Hilda hoped that he meant. The fire had been brief and contained, but it made sense that someone manning the wall may have seen it and called it in. But how could they know it was her? Did one of the sentries see her catch fire beforehand, too? Or maybe they just wanted to ask questions, since they knew somehow that she had been in the area? Either way, she felt like a pit was opening in her stomach…

“You’ve won our First Annual Safety Patrol Student Essay Contest!” He answered excitedly. Hilda felt her fear dampen significantly, punctuated by the other woman pulling out a small confetti popper and yanking it open.

Hilda heard a sigh of relief off to her left. She looked over to see color returning to her mother’s face. “Is that all?” She scoffed quietly as her typical relaxedness flooded her voice once more. “You could’ve just said that when you got here, instead of fifteen minutes of double-talking while we waited for her. You could’ve moved on and I would’ve passed that news along.” Deputy Gerda then approached Johanna and showed off a sheet of paper to her, displaying the contest and her name as the winner.

Johanna took the paper and beamed. “Hilda, you never told me you entered an essay contest.” A quick pang of guilt was quickly forgotten as Hilda recalled the details, taking on a bashful tone as she explained. “It was just a school thing.” She had honestly expected that in terms of a contest, then someone like Frida was a shoo-in. For her, it was little more than another assignment, not worth a conversation of its own. “We all had to write essays on the same topic; ‘Trolls: Perils and Preparedness.’”

“Hilda wrote a vivid description of her own encounter with a troll. She was nearly eaten alive, but before her final escape, she managed to pluck her sketchbook from his gaping maw! Thrilling stuff. Particularly the illustrations.”

Hilda watched as Johanna took close inspection of the drawing she’d made of the encounter, furrowing her brow at the sight of her daughter vividly near, as Erik had professed, the gaping maw of a troll. “Personally, I think this pays too much mind to the aspect of thrill. I’d be more impressed by the fact that she figured out the problem with the troll and got out alive, personally. She never depicted it as being that bad.”

“Well, why cause you unnecessary distress? It all worked out in the end. We could all learn a thing or two from–”

“No, no–that’s not what I meant.” Her mum chuckled sheepishly. “I already knew about this; it happened right outside our old cabin, while I was home. Upstairs I’ll grant you, but still, how could I have not heard a troll roaring right outside our front door, much less my child screaming bloody murder?”

This was met by brief silence, followed by a nonchalant shrug from Erik Ahlberg. “You, uh…could’ve been running the vacuum at the time? Seems like an honest excuse for a mum not to hear such a thing?”

A sensible takeaway, but for reasons Hilda didn’t understand, Johanna’s semi-social expression shifted into a scowl. Meanwhile, Hilda felt herself going over that old event; the experience with the troll had been frightening to say the least, but it had all worked out alright. Seconds after he left, when she was consoling herself and Twig, her mum had come bursting out of the door with a handbell in tow, ready to stun the troll into releasing her daughter and possibly scare/lead it away from the cabin, only to find Hilda in one piece and with a neat story to tell…after a hug, of course.

She then gazed up at the man in front of her. Despite shrinking back a bit from the reproach of Hilda’s mum, he seemed to display the confidence that backed up Safety Patrol’s reputation–a force for dealing with the environment instead of running from it. With the conversation at hand, Hilda hadn’t found an opportunity to continue her mental debate over the watch, but now a potential solution had presented itself: if he was in the business of safety, maybe he could have advice on how to control the thing? Or at least the resources to get it off of her without involving the rest of the police, get it back into its pod and shut it tightly this time with a padlock, so it wouldn’t get attached to someone else.

And maybe, Mum wouldn’t need to find out, not until after Hilda made sure everything was okay again.

After about fifteen seconds of uncomfortable silence, Deputy Gerda saw fit to cut through the tension. “In any case, Hilda: as the winner of our contest, you have been selected to participate in a ride-along with the Safety Patrol tomorrow.”

Officer Ahlberg piped in then. “We're conducting a thorough inspection of the city's troll defenses.” Hilda felt a wave of intrigue suppressing the guilt lingering in the corner of her mind–could this really be a chance? “But tomorrow's a school day.”

“Principal Magnussen feels that this experience provides…educational benefits that justify a day outside the classroom.” Erik explained, filling Hilda with relief from her opportunity being synched. “Yes-s-s!”

“Subject to your approval, of course.” Deputy Gerda quickly added, reaching into the pocket of her uniform jacket and producing a sheet of paper that read “PERMISSION SLIP”, and a pen. She handed the things to Johanna, who didn’t react right away: she looked down at the signature line and then back up to Officer Ahlberg, a glint of apprehension lingering in her eyes. And then down at Hilda, shifting slightly to reflect gentle concern, motivating the cyan-haired girl to offer up an earnest plea with a small smile. “Mum?”

Hesitation left Johanna’s face as she relented at last. “Oh, alright then.” She went to work on signing the piece of card stock and handed it to Erik, who replied affirmatively, “Excellent! Until tomorrow, Hilda!” He gave her a salute at the edge of his hat, a gesture that Hilda didn’t care to return, but she gave an earnest reply anyways. “Until tomorrow!”

The two officers made for the door then, but Erik briefly paused to look over at the dining table. Hilda was reminded then of the impending dinner; Alfur and Tontu were still patiently waiting for her tardy self to arrive and finish up this conversation, for the better part of an hour total. The elf wasn’t any concern to Erik, only raising an eyebrow at the sight of a makeshift table and cream-cup stool on the tabletop. But Tontu’s presence seemed to surprise him, “Oh, I see you’ve invited your Nisse to dinner.”

Mum crossed her arms and gave him another look. Tontu looked up and replied, “What about it?” Eager not to let things get uncomfortable again, Hilda piped in. “We invite him to dinner every night. Better than making him have to dig through the snack cupboard. After all, he’s just as much a member of the household as anyone else here.” She wasn’t sure of it, but she thought she could hear a tiny voice from Alfur’s spot going “Aww”, as if he knew the implication behind that.

Erik quickly covered his tracks. “Well, of course! A grand idea, no doubt. It’s just, uh, not what I expected from a Nisse; the one back at Ahlberg Manor rarely even comes around for a spot of tea, much less a whole meal.” He strode out of the flat then, though she could still make out him muttering under his breath. “Though the little rabscallion sure helps himself to my leftover pheasant whenever he feels like it…”

——————————

With the guests departed, the family was free to sit down to a nice meal at last. The pie was passed around and everyone dug it, and Hilda could feel the tension nearly abate. Everything would be fine, her mum wouldn’t need to know about the watch until later, and all in all, the pie was somehow still…reasonably warm even with how long it’d been left untouched.

But to her surprise, after gratitudes came from herself and the others to Johanna over the quality of dinner, the subject then changed: “How’s David?”

“Huh?” Hilda looked up in surprise, and her mum clarified. “You went to David’s house. That’s where you came from, right?”

Hilda felt the struggle start up again. She was almost completely sure that she should keep the watch secret, and most certainly the fire if she could help it, but the other stuff? She didn’t like to lie, regardless if it was a big deal or not. Maybe she could get just a little bit of it off her chest…

“Actually, I never got there.” Her mother raised an eyebrow as Hilda turned to Alfur. “Did you know that other elves have houses here?” Alfur looked up from his plate, a comically small portion size by human measure, scraped off each layer into a pile instead of a properly shaped slice, but that was just fine by his humble personal standards. “Well, yes. There’s the Bragga Clan, of course. And the elf mail depot, although I actually think that it’s stationed a bit beyond the wall…”

“No, I mean–paperwork elves, with colored tunics and all.” She explained. “They have a little neighborhood down at Gorrill Gardens, on the opposite side of the wall but right up against it. I think it popped up overnight.” Alfur’s tiny eyes boggled at that. “Really?! A branch colony inside of the walls, already? I knew they were considering the prospect, but I never thought that they’d get on it this soon.” He explained, a hint of satisfaction lingering in his tone. Hilda smiled a little bit at that, knowing now that his reports on Trolberg had made a real impact on his culture.

“Well, anyways–one of the houses was built on a piece of walking land, and eventually…it walked off and took a jog through the city streets, with the house still on it. I heard the homeowner yelling for help and went after them, so I could put the house back where it belonged.”

Her mum looked over and asked, politeness and earnestness present in her tone, nothing accusatory…yet. “Did you manage?”

“Well, yes. But it was a long chase, and we ended up on the old train tracks…which before I knew it, led us outside the city for a bit. I got the house back from under the porch of a human-sized house out there, and then got back as quick as I could.”

Hilda braced for possible pushback, concern and disapproval for leaving the city. But luckily her mother defied these expectations. “Alright, then.” She turned back to her plate. “But I did see a bit of dirt on your clothes, and thought you kids played in the garden or something.” She took a bite of the crust and washed it with her drink. “Either way, make sure to scrub off before bed tonight–you wouldn’t want to be dirty for your big field trip tomorrow.”

The others at the table went kindly on with their meals, but Hilda stared blankly at her mum in confusion. “So, you’re not upset?” Johanna stopped mid-cut and looked over, “About what?”

“I…went outside of Trolberg during the chase. Outside the walls, into the wide open space–there were troll rocks and everything.” She tilted her head. “You’re being awfully calm about it.”

“Well, shouldn’t I be?” Johanna set down her utensils and looked at her daughter directly. “Hilda, all you did was exit the walls for a few minutes and rescue a poor soul’s house, a good deed no less. It’s not like you committed a crime or anything.”

The image of the fire flashed before Hilda’s eyes, but she buried it as her mum continued. “We used to live in a place much more rural than that area, and I still trusted you then. As long as you’re responsible and get home before dark, it’s not a big deal if you want to go out and stretch your legs once in a while.”

“Really?” A little bit of tension left her body entirely at that–since moving here, long before the watch was an issue, Hilda had been nervous about going outside of the walls, fearing what her mother might say. “I thought you’d joined in on David’s and Frida’s parents wanting us all to stay inside.”

“What I said was, to let me know where you’re going in case something happens, and to make sure you get their parents’ permission first before taking their kids outside the walls.” She put a hand to her daughter’s shoulder and gave a gentle smile. “I know that you can look out for yourself, but that doesn’t mean that everything is in your control.”

Hilda chuckled. “Yeah, I know. That thing with the troll proves it.” She could admit in hindsight that the whole thing was her fault–putting a bell tied to a troll’s nose was a great way to upset it, its short arms leaving it unable to remove the thing by itself. “It’s better that I keep some of the more perilous stuff out of reach and…” her own smile dulled a bit as her next words slipped out. “...not bring the danger home.”

Her right hand drifted over to her opposite wrist, as she felt the irony begin to weigh on her. Her mum didn’t seem to notice this. “Well, I do enjoy you befriending creatures, and you’re welcome to bring them around…within reason. But the more dangerous elements…” She let out an awkward hiss. “...sure, it’d be good to think twice before taking them indoors. I know that the thing with the baby troll at school was an accident, but…do you see what I mean?”

“Of course.” She still occasionally thought about that incident and others like it: a mistake for sure, and a lot of things were wrecked that day, thanks to the strange elements of an adventure coming back to bite her, and the consequences of her actions refusing to leave them be. And the baby troll did all of that damage while not engulfed in flames; Hilda was not one full hour ago, and had done similar.

There was a minute of silence as the house residents turned back to their plates, before Johanna looked back up, and the hairs on Hilda’s neck stood up as she sniffed the air a few times. Could she be picking up on trace bits of ash, soot? It was all over the place when she’d left. “Hilda, wait a minute.” Her mum put her hand on top of Hilda’s that held her fork to halt it.

“Yes, Mum?”

“Hmm…never mind. Thought I smelled something on–hey! Wait a minute.” She looked back over at Hilda and narrowed her gaze. “You’ve got dirt on your clothes from the chase–did you remember to wash your hands before eating?”

Part of Hilda relaxed once more at the mundane correction; plus the way her mother’s voice softened at that last part, one eyebrow raised in playful yet genuine inquisitiveness. “Oh, whoops! It totally slipped my mind!” She got up and made her way to the hall bathroom–the kitchen sink was fine, but she preferred the smell of the soap in there.

As she left, she vaguely heard Alfur speaking, possibly questioning Tontu if he’d washed his paws. Judging by hearing “Hand hygiene is of utmost importance!” and the retort: “How would you know?”

Hilda rolled up her sleeves and began to wash, gazing down at the device still clamped around her wrist. At some point it had beeped a few times while she was running home, and whatever that meant, the dial had changed back to its soft green color. “What am I going to do about this?” She mumbled under her breath.

And with cruel irony, her other hand bumped against the side of the watch and hit the button once more. She gasped as the dial sprung up and exposed the cylinder, a drone of beeps coming up as the symbol inverted itself.

Frozen in place, Hilda didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t let anyone hear this, but she feared touching it would cause another incident. She waited a moment, but the thing didn’t deactivate. The beeps were mostly drowned out by the spray of the water, but she couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. Last time, it had turned off shortly after the farmer had doused her a few times, sounding like a short-circuited electric toy–maybe she could do it again?

Hilda held the watch directly in the spray and pressed the button a few times, holding it down at the end in hopes that somehow she could get the thing to shut off. But apparently she had done something right; the beeping ceased as the screen went back to normal, and the cylinder rotated once before shrinking back into the band. And best of all, Hilda wasn’t even smoldering afterwards.

Hilda breathed a sigh of relief at that. It was clear in her mind now; most people were definitely better off not having this kind of stress, and while she didn't have a choice in her part, maybe she could include her mum among the oblivious.

Chapter Text

Hilda had skated the watch under her mum’s notice well enough, and avoided a close call in the bathroom. But she still didn’t want to take chances: she took care to keep her sleeves down on both arms, both to hide the thing and to look natural all the same; she got into bed and was careful to be subtle in avoiding her mum touching the watch while tucking her in and saying good night; once she was asleep, she got up and took out an extra blanket, loosely wrapping it around her arm in case she rolled over on top of the watch and her weight pressed against the button–that way, there would be cushion to absorb some of it.

Ideally, she wouldn’t have chosen to sleep in a bed at all, not while the device was on her and capable of setting her ablaze with little warning. But she had somewhere to go tomorrow and her mum wasn’t likely to say yes to a last-minute camping trip on a school night, or at the very least, not without asking questions.

“Why tonight of all times? You have things to do tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier? I could’ve planned something out.”

“Why only the three of us? I know that Alfur has enjoyed camping out in the past, and I’m sure we could get Tontu on board.”

“Hold on: why are you sleeping outside of the tent, without a sleeping bag, in the damp grass, not four meters away from that stream over there?”

In hindsight, Hilda wondered if, awkwardness aside, that was the better choice after all. But it was already 10:37 and she was already laying in her bed. Which was fitting in her exhausted mind–she’d been the one who’d made it, after all.

——————————

Morning came and Hilda got ready for the day. Her favorite jumper had to be washed after yesterday, and this trip took the place of a school day, so it only made sense for her to wear her school uniform, with a jacket over top.

She walked out into the living room and headed towards the dining room table, where she saw her mother waiting for her with a bowl of porridge topped with fruit. “Here’s something to keep you energized on your trip today!” She seemed to be hiding the reluctance in her voice well, despite having not gotten past her differences with Trolberg’s Head Officer.

“One other thing!” Another voice rang out from her right size. Hilda turned her head to see the familiar shape of Alfur crossing the table, stuffing a new empty notebook into his satchel. “Your mum came up with a wonderful idea: for me to tag along with you today!”

“Oh, really?” Hilda buried her panic under a surprised tone, perhaps a little too well save for a little sheepishness towards the end. Johanna looked over and spoke briskly, “Well, of course! He’s come here to write reports on the big city, and other elves are already moving in because of them. Imagine if he could write about law enforcement.”

“Indeed!” Alfur piped in. “After all, we the Huldufolk are a species granted with invisibility and one-way intangibility to stay hidden from all outsiders, except for those who sign our paperwork under our terms. It’s easy to understand that safety is of paramount concern to us, and what could better put the most worried of our kind at ease than a detailed report regarding the Safety Patrol’s inner workings?”

Hilda had been looking forward to explaining the watch to Erik and Gerda alone, away from other ears, to handle the problem where they couldn’t get back to her mum until everything was under control. Alfur’s presence would certainly complicate that, in that he’d be clinging to her head/coat for most of the day, and could easily hear her if-and-when she chose to come clean.

But she didn’t have a valid reason to refuse her mother’s suggestion–none that she could tell them, anyways. And looking down at that excited face of the compassionate elf, who’d stood up for them despite the rest of his little town trying to kick them out of the cabin, Hilda didn’t have the heart to say no. “Sure! Climb aboard, Alfur!”

——————————

“So, I’ll be tagging along with Hilda today!” Alfur repeated as Hilda walked down the streets, with the company of Frida and David. The latter was busy working on a protein bar, a breakfast characteristic of those who’d gotten a late start to the morning. But alas, nothing seemed to be holding up Frida.

“So, my essay offered a broad historical perspective on troll safety.”

“Heavily footnoted, I presume?”

“Absolutely.”

“Oh, sounds delightful!”

“To be fair, Hilda's piece is more of a compelling read.”

Hilda rubbed her left arm with the other hand. “Yeah, well…exciting things do happen to me…nonstop, at times.” Images of the incident from yesterday flashed through her mind.

David snorted. “You’ve got that right. Meanwhile, I’m scared of everything and Frida’s always got her nose stuck in a book–your life is more interesting, so it’s no wonder you beat Frida’s.”

Hilda turned back. “David, that’s not nice.” She couldn’t see Alfur, but she thought he might probably be giving him a disappointed look.

But as for Frida herself, she didn’t react right away. Hilda looked over to see her other friend simply keeping her pace on the trip to school; all that could be heard was Frida taking a deep breath in through the nose, slowly counting down on her fingers, and then letting it out at an equally slow pace.

Finally she finally responded, “No, no. It’s okay, Hilda–it’s just David having some fun, and we know what he meant.”

“That…the new head of Safety Patrol wants to focus more on real-world stuff than just rules?” David queried.

“Exactly.” Frida nodded. “And you’re right; I can be a little…bookish sometimes.” She turned to Hilda and smiled. “But that’s what I–er, we have you for. You make our lives interesting.”

Beyond her puzzledness at Frida’s lack of pushback, uncharacteristic for someone who was reliably outspoken and strong, Hilda did feel her heart warming from the appreciation. “You mean it?”

“Of course!”

“You’re tons of fun!”

“You’ve shown us so many new things!”

Hilda felt her entire face flushing at compliments from Frida, David, and Alfur–in that order. A lot of praise was coming in at once; given what’d happened yesterday, it was nice to be reminded of the good stuff she did outside of the stupid watch. And more so, after the rough patch with Frida herself, it served as a layered reminder that those actions were indeed good.

——————————

“Besides…” Frida said, rounding the corner towards the schoolyard. “...a patrol does sound interesting, but I wouldn’t miss school for it.”

The three children and elf then saw other children, dressed in uniforms for the school day, hurrying towards the schoolyard with gleeful expressions. No one was that happy on a Monday morning, even less so in these numbers.

Coupled with the droll of sounds coming from their destination, the group got a mutual sense that something was amiss. They quickly sped up as well, entering the schoolyard to find the typical hustle and bustle of children across the space, having organized themselves into groups surrounding a wide space. On the left side, a truck led a long tow rope that led up to…the Safety Patrol dirigible in the sky.

To be honest, Hilda was having mixed feelings at the sight. Firstly, she felt a little dumb that she hadn’t seen it on her way in. But in her defense, she’d been talking with her friends at the time, and they’d missed it, too. Then there was relief, that there was an enclosed space where she could address Ahlberg without too many listeners–she only had to watch out for Alfur and anyone else from the Patrol that manned the thing. Frida gazed up at the thing in awe. “I take it back.”

But the most prominent of all those feelings: dread. She was indeed about to enter an enclosed space, with no way down without landing–crash landing even, if things went wrong. And if past experience was any indication, namely her bout of catching fire unexpectedly the day before, then things had a good chance of going wrong.

David let out a croaky voice behind them. “You’re riding in that thing?” Hilda shrugged. “I…guess so.” She worried for a second if her anxiety had come out a bit too much, but David seemed to have been fooled, at least. “Well, I'm glad I never turned in my essay.” He leaned against the brick pillar to his right to hold himself up. “The thought of going up in one of those makes me queasy.”

Frida quickly comforted him. “Don’t worry about it. Dirigibles are perfectly safe. Besides, Hilda’s ridden woffs before, and this certainly looks more reliable than one of those.”

“But less cozy.” Hilda added, uncertain if those words were meant to comfort just David, or if Frida had noticed after all and it was for the both of them. Either way, there wasn’t much time to dwell; they had to get to the ceremony, and she had to be up there with the man directing the whole thing.

——————————

“Hilda? Cooee!” The sound of Alfur’s voice brought her out of her head. She’d zoned out and hadn’t really been listening when she’d boarded the dirigible and Principal Magnusson advised them both in his overly joyful way, or when Erik gave a speech on the dramatized dangers of trolls, or the lead-in details of the inspection. She did remember the bells, however–she lacked the energy to correct his idea of trolls fearing them, since he was protecting a walled city, and since trolls were annoyed by bells enough to stay back anyway, it was unlikely to matter.

“Oh, sorry. Just got lost in thought.” Gazing out at the city from above had distracted from her dread for the time being. “Just one thing, Alfur. I…need a favor.”

“Anything! Name it.” He answered, joyously.

“It’s just that I was hoping to talk to Erik alone, or perhaps Gerda too.” She looked over at them, picking up on something the former had said about the Bell Tower Act of 1892. Alfur made a little “hmm” sound. “Well, go ahead. He’s right over there, and if you get nervous, I’ll be right here to support you.”

Hilda was quiet for a second, before she took Alfur down from his spot on her head and held him in her hands on the windowsill. “About that, Alfur. I was kind of hoping…when I said ‘alone’, I meant…” A look of realization crossed his face–his compassionate elf face, swelling the guilt inside Hilda’s chest–as it was made clear. “O-oh, I see.” He answered sheepishly. “I guess if it’s for their ears only, then me hanging off one of yours would be rather counterproductive.”

“I’m sorry, Alfur. It’s nothing personal, it’s just…” Just then, a voice rang out from the control counter. “Hilda, you silly girl! I can’t hear your words of adulation over here, if you mumble them from over there!”

Silly girl; wasn’t that term a bit outdated? Still, Hilda figured that Erik probably meant nothing by it, and besides, she was relying on his cooperation and compassion if this issue was to blow over quickly. So she chose to ignore it and walked over to him. “I was just…complimenting your, uh…diligence in looking after the city!”

This seemed like the ideal way to approach Erik Ahlberg, and she quickly drew up a segue in her mind: “And speaking of which, I wanted to talk to you about something weird that happened to me yesterday, and maybe you could help with it.”

It all seemed to be a good plan…until it wasn’t, as a crackle suddenly echoed in the distance, bringing a sudden halt to Hilda’s mental preparations. Erik’s head jolted up at it, and she followed his gaze to discover the sounds’ source; just ahead in the sky a few city blocks away, there was a series of clouds crowded together in the sky. Bunched up together, Hilda knew better that it was weather spirits responsible; the shape was not them specifically, but rather the collection of angry rain and snow from a lively debate of opinions, coupled with a large amount of hot air (both in personality and literally).

Gerda observed it and arrived at the same conclusion as Hilda. “Some kind of localized weather system?” Reasonable concern was present in her tone, given the superstorm that had been kicked up by Victoria Van Gale a few months ago, and the fact that it was directly in their chosen route, which made Hilda quick to suggest an alternative. “Oh, no. Maybe we should go around it?”

A few stray bolts of lightning shot off from it, but weren’t angled to come anywhere near the ground or buildings below. Even the dirigible was currently out of range.

…you know, until it wasn’t. “Nonsense! Safety waits for no one.” Something in Erik’s eyes suggested something besides pure professionalism, and it seemed to be getting stronger by the second as danger loomed ahead. “Engines on full!” Despite being smarter than Ahlberg–and at this point, even the Troll Rock from school seemed so–Gerda followed orders and pushed the levers forwards. Obviously, Alfur’s pending objection would do nothing to stop this, as they weren’t likely to hear constructive criticism from a tiny invisible person, who boarded without an invitation, no matter how much of a technicality it may be in his case.

Regardless, Hilda still had to hear him whimpering from raw fear as the dirigible sped up towards the bunch of clouds. The initial haze part as the interior came into view, and sure enough, a face was imprinted in each of two opposing masses of inky black vapor.

“Steady ahead.” Came as confirmation from the…intrepid Head Officer. For a multitude of reasons in the past minute, Hilda was no longer thinking that he’d be a reliable confidant, inciting a sigh from her as she silenced her plans for letting the watch be known. “Never mind, Alfur.” She muttered into her hand.

If only she could talk to someone else who would know about this stuff; the librarian, since she’d proven herself a fountain of arcane knowledge in times past and would have an old book on it, especially if this were some kind of mythology/folklore after all. Or perhaps the Rat King, in case the theory about Victoria Van Gale were correct and he heard talk of her plans. Heck, if the Raven were still around, she might try….

FWOOM! The whole dirigible practically shook from some unknown force, and Hilda lurched back before she steadied out. The two officers reacted similarly and Gerda brought the thing back to level, before all four onlookers caught sight of a potential culprit: another dark shape–this one the inkiest of blacks–whooshed past the side of the balloon in a burst of speed.

The Great Raven; speak of Hilda’s friends and sometimes one of them will appear. He was at his proper full Thunderbird size, stray bolts of lightning from the argument going in one wing and out the other…literally. Which made sense, since it was hard to imagine he’d take damage from his own elemental force.

“Aha!” Ahlberg’s voice rang out for perhaps the infinitieth time. “The Great Raven itself has come to lead our bell-checking crusade! I always knew that this was the right thing to do.” Hilda of course knew that to be a lie; in the past Raven had professed indifference for the trolls, and if he thought humans weren’t doing enough, he didn’t show it. He was likely trying to lead them out of the storm, or…wait. “What’s he doing?” Hilda cocked her head as she saw him halt between the two Weather Spirits, wings flapping midair as he spoke to one side. Even from behind glass and steel, they were able to pick up on the boisterous voices of the veritable deities in conversation:

“Alright, break it up, fellas. I thought we agreed to have these discussions out at sea, where civilians aren’t in the line of fire. Or water, in this case.”

The Spirit he faced then belted out. “We were headed that way, all right. That's the last time I'll let you take the scenic route!” The other let out what seemed to be a scoff. “Oh, right. You didn't seem to mind when you were…” It was then that the dirigible passed between them, but thankfully Raven had kept one eye on the flank and darted up and out of the way. One of the spirits, on the other hand, was less than understanding, clear sarcasm in his tone as he responded, “Well, excuse me.”

With a crackle of his body and a flash of spite across his face, he launched a bolt of lightning aimed towards them. But with great speed, the Raven shot across the sky and intercepted the bolt before it could land on the dirigible. But the thing shook anyway, since he’d apparently needed to brace his feet against the balloon on the stern side and groan as he redirected the tremendous discharge of electricity. “It seems like a lot, even for him!” Hilda shouted, practically drowned out.

With a flash and a grunt, Raven finally swatted away the lightning. But the final motion still lurched the dirigible, knocking Erik and Hilda off their feet. He managed to grab the leg of Gerda’s chair and hold on as the vehicle tilted backwards, but Hilda could find no ground. She and Alfur cried out as they slid downwards as Gerda tried to regain control.

And the thing bumped back up to level, causing Hilda to bounce up, tumble a bit, and land against the back window. Only…the bump hit her left arm and set off the watch; the tumble had caused her to land on it, and everything seemed to pause for a second, before the flash came about; and as she slammed against the window, something was definitely different. Though it was difficult to tell from this angle, she could confirm–she wasn’t on fire, and it felt like she was still wearing clothes.

Hilda peeled herself from the window and let out a groan as the physical brunt of the fall caught up with her. She then heard a “Gmph!” as something–SOMEONE landed on the back window next to her; she’d forgotten to check on Alfur. She looked down and scooped him up in her hands, revealing two very important things; said hands were grey and slimy, and judging by how Alfur was toddler-sized compared to her, she had shrunk down to a very meager height. But that would have to wait, since he could easily be injured.

“Alfur, are you okay!?” She asked, cringing internally as she heard her new voice. The last had been deeper and sounded like it were filtered through a campfire, but this one was closer to the squeaks of her wet boots on a linoleum floor. Luckily, the elf picked himself up from his spot in her palms and brushed his arm against his face to shake off the pain. “I’m just fine, Hilda–ha-huuuuhhhh….” He trailed off as he finally looked up from his not-hands, eyes widening at the sight of his favorite girl (or so he claimed) in such a different and unexpected state.

Hilda chuckled sheepishly. “Um…I can explain.” The elf crossed his arms and spoke, something accusing yet sincere comprising his tone. “I’m sure you can.”

Chapter Text

Given the aftermath of the Weather Spirits, trite as it may seem, Hilda could see a silver lining in this unfortunate event among these dark clouds: at least she wasn’t on fire this time. But rationalizing that upside to Alfur was her next step. “Um, it’s a funny story. Can we continue this someplace private?”

“Fine, but we’d better make sure you’re not seen.” Hilda began to sprint towards the doorway to her right, but halted when she heard Gerda’s voice in the distance. “Hilda! Are you okay?” It had taken them a minute to check on her after she’d tumbled across the deck, but in their defense, the dirigible had lurched heavily and it had taken time to stabilize everything.

Aware of how her voice now sounded, Hilda coughed a few times and tried with all her might to lower her pitch. “I’m alright. But I’m going to visit the restroom for a few minutes.” She wasn’t sure if she’d successfully fooled them, but since they didn’t react, she decided that it wasn’t worth dwelling. She sped down the hallway and into the tiny bathroom. She pushed the door closed with all of her might, grunting as an ordinary wooden door was suddenly like a brick wall. But she managed anyway, pushing it shut and breathing a sigh of relief. “We’ll deal with them in a minute.”

There was a sudden click, and Hilda saw that the light had been turned on. She looked up to see Alfur sliding down the wall under the switch, a teeny-tiny squeak from the sound of his not-hands against the metal. “How did you scale a flat surface like that, so quickly?”

“We elves have practice in this, relying on Van der Waals force manipulation your whole life. You’ll learn about it in biology class.”

“Actually, I wonder…” Something was occurring to Hilda, redirecting her from the task at hand. “...could it be that you have countless hair-like follicles on your stubs, too small for the eye to see, and they fluctuate in a pattern to create a Velcro-like connection with any object or surface you touch, while allowing for free motion?” Alfur’s eyes nearly boggled out of his head. “Why…yes! Essentially, that’s how Van der Waals forces work!”

Alfur’s suspicion had been removed and replaced by his typical optimism, inciting Hilda to continue. “Of course. That would explain how you’re able to hold a pencil and other objects, in spite of lacking fingers. Either that or sticky pads…” She leaned against the wall and hoisted herself up against it, sticking herself to the side with both hands and feet. “...which aren’t as practical without flexing joints, because that makes it tougher to let go.”

Alfur pulled out his notebook and flipped open a whole new page to write some of this down. “Too true! You seem to have practiced this, well done.” Hilda tilted her head. “Um, not really? This is my first time being…whatever this creature is. I just felt the sticky residue on my palms, and after remembering my low body weight, made a guess that one of these beings might use them together.”

“Really?” Alfur asked, diligently taking down notes over what he’d just heard. “First time, and you’re already thinking deep thoughts? Before having seen what you look like?” He made hinting movements towards the sink, where if she craned her neck, she could see a mirror hung over it. So she scaled the wall and hopped up onto the porcelain, steadying herself against the slender frame as she looked at herself properly.

Hilda was small and grey, of course. But if she had to describe herself, it would be…frog-like. This form had a large head shaped like an inverted triangle, with two large yellow eyes tucked into the rounded top corners. Then, a neck that led down to a svelte person-shape body with slender limbs and disproportionately large hands and feet. She was in fact wearing clothes this time, but it wasn’t her school uniform; her entire outfit from the previous day had apparently been summoned and tailored to fit this new body–save for the boots and lacking hair on her head, she was the spitting image of her everyday style.

“Huh.” She couldn’t help but wonder why this was. “Maybe the inner workings of the watch recognize my clothes and put them on if it thinks they ought to be, but not on a case-by-case basis. Maybe it took stock of the outfit I wore when it first latched on, and set that as the core standard.”

Alfur hopped up next to her and took to his notes with fervent enthusiasm. “Goodness! It wasn’t an exaggeration when you told me that you could explain this.” Hilda shrugged it off. “Well, I don’t actually know for certain. Most of this is just reasoning, without any proof.”

Alfur nodded and jotted that down as well under an additional footnote. “Fair enough. But if you don’t mind me asking, what is ‘the watch’ you mentioned, exactly?” Hilda chuckled nervously–they were getting into the territory of her guilt. “Well, I sort of found a strange watch outside of the city yesterday. It apparently makes me shape-shift if a button gets pressed…”

“What do you mean ‘a’ button?”

“This is only my second time activating it! And both times were accidents, so I don’t know if the first time was the only way to do it. I pushed the little button, the dial popped up…” Hilda then remembered that the same dial had appeared on her yesterday–maybe it was here and could serve as a visual aide. She looked around her body until she finally noticed the forest giant in the room; it was imprinted into her back.

It was a bit larger compared to her frame, taking up nearly all space on her back it could without restricting movement. She turned around and showed Alfur the disc-shaped badge imprinted with the grey hourglass. “...this dial, to be exact.” She turned back around to see him quickly sketching her whole torso. “After that, the dial pressed down, and I was…something else. It only went away after I…”

She then recalled the stream in the woods, and the incident by the bathroom sink. “Hold on.” She reached over the sink and turned on the faucet, aiming her back under the spray of water, but underestimated the water pressure and nearly fell in the sink. She gritted her muscles as she exposed the thing to water again, hoping to short-circuit it…which now that she was smart, didn’t make much sense.

“Hold on. If water-logging were what made the transformation wear off, then why is it still functioning?” She pulled her body back from hanging over the sink and went deep into thought. “You could make the argument that the thing can repair itself, but it’s more likely that I assumed a false cause under stress…and having no context. Maybe some other factor entirely, is what truly contributed to it shutting down…”

Just then, a familiar set of beeps began to go off like a siren. She looked down back around her as the dial began flashing red, and the beeps became louder and shrill, like something was losing power or functionality. Educated guess; Hilda jumped down from the sink and ran towards the room’s center as the final beep happened, and with a flash of light, she found herself back to the way she was; human girl with blue hair, school uniform with a jacket and boots.

——————————

“Whew. Got lucky again.” She then set out her hand for Alfur to jump back on her person and continue the patrol. “I’ve probably been in here long enough. We’ll talk more later.”

“Agreed!” Alfur piped, and Hilda felt her chest untighten a bit. Her apprehensions were still present, but to have one person who knew and understood, made her feel a little better. Plus, she’d learned that the watch could make her become something that was uncommonly smart, and more importantly, wasn’t on fire.

She exited the bathroom to see Gerda waiting at the end of the hallway. “Oh, good. You were in there for ten minutes, so I’d wondered if you had airsickness or perhaps went unconscious.” Just then, Ahlberg came from around the corner, raising a hand to the air…

…and spoke in a helium voice: “And I was fully prepared to perform first aid on a collapsed child!”

Both All three of the other passengers nearly burst into a fit of giggles, Gerda’s the most stifled due to the need to remain professional. Ahlberg frowned and scoffed. “Yeah? Well, that gas line from the dirigible proper is still leaking, you know! And just because you avoided it doesn't mean it was only me–before Hilda left for the bathroom, her voice sounded all stupid, too!”

Hilda just remembered the thing with her other form, telling the Safety Patrol officers where she was headed. Her being another subject to this helium leak, could just as well explain it. “Yeah, I did sound silly. But to answer your question, it was mild airsickness, and I just needed to sit awhile.”

Gerda nodded, shifting back into her cold professionalism. “Anyway, the helium leak means that the balloon has been punctured, so we’ll have to land back at the base and continue the patrol on land.” Her head then jerked up. “Wait, Officer Ahlberg. If you’re standing here with us, then who’s steering–”

It had taken everyone a few seconds to notice that they were drifting in the sky.

——————————

So after landing, the rest of the patrol tour would be done on land, using the “newly designed Safety Patrol car.” Hilda wasn’t listening all that intently as Ahlberg described it; a plethora of anti-troll weapons such as repellent canisters and bells, nothing that would ever get used, she hoped.

Despite Alfur’s suggestion to give Ahlberg another chance, Hilda was strung up by the process of the inspection tour. Not that it was frantic or anything particularly important from her angle; mainly the number of points he wanted investigated.

Firstly, down at the docks, he had questions about whether or not a troll could enter Trolber by crossing into Bjorg Fjord from an unwalled portion of land, and walking along the bottom towards the city proper. His criticisms were met with a “la-di-da” acknowledgement of an old bell that was once stuck down there as a deterrent, as well as a half-joke that the cod sandwich at the Salty Maiden restaurant stood as a more substantial threat to Trolberg’s citizens, so long as no one knew the secret ingredient.

All mockery and japes from the fisherman aimed at overzealous law enforcement…that is, until Gerda ordered that very sandwich right after, and, wearing gloves, sealed it inside of an evidence bag.

After that, they swung around town to a very familiar spot for Hilda: Sparrow Scout Hall. During public school hours, Raven Leader didn’t have any kids to occupy her time–only everyday paperwork and the planning of future activities, a task which even Alfur had admitted in the past could be paused for more important things.

But in this case, it wasn’t all that dire; just the Trolls Safety Protocol manual. As someone trusted with looking after children in outdoor expeditions that occasionally dipped outside of the wall, she’d of course memorized the years-old dusty book long ago. But, not the new one Erik Ahlberg commissioned on the ground that the old one was “a bit thin by his standards”, and then dropped into her arms atop the clipboard she already held, so comically heavy that she had to brace her knees to carry it properly. Hilda felt inclined to say something, or at least help her carry the thing, but the patrol continued immediately thereafter, and the poor woman was left to her fate.

——————————

“You are the keeper of the bell here, along the wall?”

There was a long-haired man standing before them, showing up early for his nighttime shift. “Aye, for quite some years now.”

“What is the current threat-level assessment?” Gerda asked, pad at the ready. The Bellkeeper gave his answer. “Between climbing where they shouldn't, and carving things into the rocks, I'd say kids do more damage to the wall than trolls.”

“Hm.” Hilda wasn’t one for those kinds of activities, but she knew that his statement made little effort to leave her out of that accusation.

“But I'll admit that I've seen more trolls than usual around here, in the past couple of weeks.”

“And do they come…close?” Erik asked, with a typical degree of theatrics.

In a deadpan tone, the Bellkeeper explained. “Funny you should ask; last night, I made myself a sandwich.”

“What kind of sandwich?” Gerda queried, her register all business as always, in spite of the apparent mundanity of the thing. And she wasn’t the only one; Hilda picked up on a snicker as Alfur filled out his own notes. “Good question.”

“Cucumber, I think.” Hilda’s expression softened at the mention of her personal favorite–it sort of made up for the earlier implication.

“You're not sure?” Gerda pressed, motivating him to mull it over. “Hmm, it could have been watercress…”

“Oh, who cares!” Erik snapped, before readopting his professional façade. “Please, go on.”

“I like to set up on the wall and enjoy a midnight snack. But this time, I got up there and dropped my sandwich.” Gerda reiterated. “Sandwich yet to be identified.”

The man chuckled. “And I'll be a son of woff, if there wasn't a troll but a meter away, who swooped in and took it.”

Hilda couldn’t help but laugh a bit at that. She could practically picture it; a big lumbering troll, curiously stepping forth to take the food from the ground, before taking off like a bandit. And all that, for a silly little sandwich in its giant hands.

“But you didn't ring the bell?” Erik didn’t seem to appreciate the juxtaposition, and if Gerda did, she didn’t show it.

“Why would he?” Hilda shrugged. “The troll got what they had come for and left.” Her appeal was waved off immediately by the Head Officer. “Hilda, please. This is official Safety Patrol business. Now, the bell…”

“Yep, no need to make a fuss.” The Bellkeeper agreed. Hilda noticed that he, like her and Alfur and her Mum, didn’t regard trolls with such monstrous context. With that in mind, the differences between them and humans seemed to shrink a bit. “I had no idea that trolls even liked sandwiches.”

“Yes, but what kind?” Alfur fussed over the details. “There's so much we don't know.

The next thing she knew, Erik had come face to face with the Bellkeeper–anyone could determine that he wasn’t speaking to him, but down to him. “And next time, ring the bell.”

——————————

“It’s just, today isn’t what I’d hoped it would be.” Hilda grumbled, juggling a pebble between her boots. “I wanted to ask for his help, but he’s just so…forceful and busy, and he jumps to the wrong conclusion a lot. Someone with his priorities, trying to understand my problem; I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell him anymore.”

“And speaking of understanding, is there any reason that you didn’t go to Johanna with this?”

“Ye-! Uh, yes.” She nearly snapped at him before stopping herself. “Sorry, Alfur. It’s just that she already has enough on her plate, without worrying about me shapeshifting by accident. She’s a mum, and I know that she’s meant to worry about me, but she’s already worried whenever I do my regular type of adventureing–I need to get a handle on this first. And it doesn’t come off, so I don’t see how she’s supposed to help.”

She glanced at Ahlberg obsessing over a crack in the wall. “And who I thought was my best chance to handle this quickly, is so full of himself. I could be learning about trolls or safety, at least. But I don’t think there’s much good takeaway from what’s happened here.”

“Well, I can’t say I fully understand the ‘keeping secrets from your mum’ part, but I can respect it, at least. And you do have a point about takeaway. There’s been a surprising amount of sandwich-based information, though–outside of an ironic food metaphor, this isn’t going to do the other elves much good.” As Alfur continued jotting this down, Hilda looked up and realized something; the train tracks a few meters away, she’d been here before. “Wait, I know this place.”

She turned a corner as the two officers took the same route, and they looked out of the archway that overlooked the railroad. “These tracks run through the wall.” Erik commented, as Gerda agreed on the grounds of a security weak point. But all Hilda could think about, care about–the smoldering wreckage on the outskirts of the forest. She could see it from here, face falling at the blackened foliage and little wisps of smoke that hadn’t quite yet cleared. And on top of all of it, the burned footprints she’d left in the ground on her way out.

Of course, there was no resemblance now–that wasn’t the problem. What did concern her was Ahlberg running straight up to the entrance to the thing and shouting off, “Gerda! Make sure you get a picture of this!” Gerda rolled her eyes. “Sir, this fire was already reported by Patrol sentries. And we already have the photos we need, so we’ll get to the bottom of this soon enough.”

Hilda felt her stomach drop like a stone, a wave of fresh panic washing over her mind. Could they know? Was there an officer somewhere in a dark room, developing photos of her encased in rock and flames, accidentally setting the land ablaze, and then…turning back to normal, leading them to know who she was? There was no hiding this blue hair of hers, the only example of it in all of greater Trolberg; would they be knocking on her flat’s door soon?

“Hilda?” Alfur’s voice rang out from behind her ear. “Hilda! Are you alright? You look like you saw a ghost.” He then made a little “hm” sound. “Actually, you’ve faced those down before; wrestled one even, so maybe that’s not a good phrase. Let me start again.”

“That’s okay, Alfur.” She sighed, trying to hide the lump in her throat. “It’s just…hard to see nature be destroyed like that.” A half-truth, all she could muster right now. She turned her attention back to the officers standing before the cinders, and felt her frown deepen as Erik began blathering again. “Perhaps it’s a new line of volcanic trolls! Or the Lindworm! The one from Cauldron Island could be setting this.”

Really? This bozo…Hilda couldn’t believe she had ever considered him to be competent and level-headed enough to help her with the watch. She looked up to see the sun setting in the western sky, remembering that school would have let out a while ago; would she be in trouble if she cut her losses and went home now?

As the shadow dipped over the trees, a familiar shadow came over the land, and an old instinct of Hilda’s began to flare up activate. “Um, I don’t think we should be outside of the wall right now. The trolls could wake up soon.” As peaceful as they could be, it wasn’t a good idea to try their luck.

“Nonsense. There are none near here–” His words were cut off by a sudden cracking. They all looked over to the right to see a circle of rocks, the very same obvious troll rocks from yesterday. But their positions had changed: once just sitting/standing in a circle, now seemed almost like…fighting.

Chapter Text

A rare sight for city dwellers–a troll coming out of stone. Hilda herself had only seen it a few times: once on the day she’d sketched it, then again on Parent’s Night. Five trolls awakening all at once would normally be a sight to see…if she were under cover, and they weren’t fighting trolls, set on immediately picking up where they’d left off this morning.

One troll in particular had their arms raised in the air, lifting up a rock separate from its own matter, bigger than Hilda’s whole body. Once free, they instantly relieved themself of the weight by chucking it at the troll across the circle, the biggest of the bunch and with two heads to boot. The impact did little damage, knocking his left arm back and speeding up his breakout. He stood up proper and gave out two deep and synchronous roars, either from pain or anger–it didn’t matter.

The remaining three hatched from their stone shells and glared angrily at their fellow trolls, as the first two charged forth and began pushing against one another. Hilda knew that the stories about troll violence were exaggerated; based on accounts of other magical creatures she’d met, humans had a habit of inciting the incidents that led to cautionary tales in the first place, while too often assigning blame to everyone but themselves. But they hadn’t even seen the three humans nearby nor Alfur–they were fighting without clear cause.

Hilda took a half step back and so did Gerda, but Erik didn’t share this sentiment. “How glorious!” He belted, pulling out the camera and running towards the danger instead of away like any rational soul would. A whole ten meter sprint directly towards brawling trolls, stopping barely one back and snapping a photo, only for the flash to alert the first troll and cause it to swat him aside unceremoniously.

Gerda took off towards the head officer, waving a hand for Hilda to stay back. A fact she didn’t dispute–she wasn’t one to back down when she could help but no one else could, but she figured the less people by the trolls, the better. Too many humans underfoot during this fight may end up riling them up even more.

Over the cacophony of roars and grumbles, Hilda couldn’t hear much of what Gerda or Erik were saying, but from the looks of it he wanted his camera back over anything, but so did one of the trolls; before Gerda could follow orders, a short round one with moss on its arms, proceeded to pick up the camera and slip the strap over its left wrist, as if it were a watch or band of sorts…before immediately going back to fighting.

Gerda then made another move, dodging a projectile boulder and darting across the battlefield until she reached the patrol car from before. But that was the smart and responsible thing to do…which meant that Ahlberg wasn’t having any of it. Hilda flinched as she heard it, an object that was blurry in his hands from this distance, but whose sound was unmistakeable: a bell. Loud and high enough of a pitch to bring the fight to a halt, all five trolls holding their ears and grunting in discomfort.

So this was how it mattered; trolls don’t fear bells, but they do hurt their ears. And it was foolish of her to assume that Erik Ahlberg’s backwards beliefs wouldn’t matter–it certainly did now. All five were now closing in, but a different sound cut through as Gerda finally climbed into the patrol car and set off the siren…

…to wit, the troll with two heads approached, shrugged off her foam-based weapon, and flipped the car in one swift motion.

——————————

“Hilda!” Alfur’s voice rang out from behind her ear. “This may seem pharisaic, but we might want to do something before they become troll food!” Hilda scoffed, “Alfur, they–”

“I know, I know! ‘Tales of Trolls eating humans are vastly overblown,’ but given how angry they are, those trolls will hurt those two badly, whether this turns into a feast or not!” He yelped as a stray rock went flying and nearly hit them, had Hilda not jumped sideways to safety. “Hilda, you might want to consider dialing for help!”

“What? I don’t have a phone–” She remembered then that he meant a different kind of dial–like the one on a watch. “No, Alfur!” She furrowed her brow. “That won’t work!”

“How do you know? You said you had at least two, so maybe there’s someone else who could help out. Or just the other one?”

“NO!” She practically screamed, leaning her back against a singed tree…if she didn’t know any better, she might think it were the same one as yesterday given the deep burnt indent, the size and shape of an adult torso. “I’m never using the other one again! If I did, everyone would get hurt.”

“Hilda–...”

“Besides, even if there are more forms, what if I just make things worse? What if instead they get hurt because of me? What…what if…” she gazed towards the nearby section of forest left scorched by her first transformation. “...what if I just mess up everything I touch?”

A small rising gasp came from Alfur as the realization hit. “You mean…the other one…did all this?” Hilda reluctantly nodded, a lump forming in her throat at the knowledge that someone else knew about her mistake. “Are you going to turn me in?”

“Never!” Alfur’s voice rang out. “I have no doubt that this was an accident–someone like you would never threaten the wilderness on purpose.” A little part of Hilda felt relief at that, plus a little bit of surprise that an elf–a member of a culture that was a stickler for rules–would willfully keep something like this from law enforcement, just for her. “Besides, Hilda–how do you know that none of the others can help, if you won’t give them a chance?”

“It’s not just them.” Hilda sighed. “What if this is just like all of the merit badges? What if I mess this up, too? What…” A loud double-roar cut her off, and they both were suddenly aware of how close Erik was to a beating, given how stalwartly he was ringing the bell. Alfur scrambled for the right words, “Running out of time for a pep talk!”

He spoke as quickly as possible, “Consider this: the Hilda that I know would never be fine sitting by while someone else suffers. And even if you're right and things don’t go your way, then it’s not like Gerda and Erik could somehow end up more eaten–I mean, BEATEN, then they would’ve been anyway.”

Looking over at the perilous scene to the right, Hilda felt her doubts begin to recede. Alfur may be right, with things being incapable of getting worse–historically, she practically thrived under those conditions. She lifted the watch and pressed the same button from before, the dial popping up with a click as Alfur watched expectantly. This time, the icon landed on a slender silhouette with a floating tail instead of legs. But before she could press the dial back down, she heard a growl above her…

…and looked up to find one of the smaller trolls looming over her, leaning its head against one shoulder and plugging the other ear with its hand. It was reaching for her awkwardly, and it was then that she noticed how high pitched the trilling beeps were. If they didn’t like the sound of bells, then this wasn’t much of an improvement. Hilda leapt to the side as a fist came down and crushed the damaged tree behind her, scorched wood crumbling and sending the thing crashing to the ground.

Hilda ran to get some distance before the troll could grab her and rip the watch off to destroy it, which given the size of troll hands, could more than likely take her whole arm with it. She looked back down and saw that the icon had disappeared and been replaced by a familiar face; the flame form, ironically making her blood turn to ice. But just then, Alfur piped in. “Wait! I think I get it now!”

“What’s that?” Hilda asked as Alfur jumped down and approached the watch. “While you jumped, the force of the motion made the dial rotate one slot over. Maybe that’s the key to choosing what you become.” He laid his tiny elven non-hands on the dial and rotated it, and sure enough the flame being then disappeared, a new one filling the spot. It was quadrupedal and had a hunched back, not exactly suited for a quick escape by her measure. “Um…”

Just then, the growling got a lot louder, thunderous footsteps following suit as the troll came after her again, startling Alfur into taking cover in her jacket sleeve and her to get moving again. “...on second thought, good enough!” She barreled further away and pressed the dial down…

…and for a split second everything halted, before a flash of light…

…and that was the last thing she saw, before everything went dark.

——————————

Hilda grunted as she felt herself down on her hands and knees, cursing herself for ending up with a form that was apparently…blind. She opened her mouth to check on Alfur, but what came out was less than helpful. “RRRRAAAAAAAARWGH!”

To her, it sounded like if a grizzly bear and a baritone-pitched forest giant tried to harmonize with each other, and then someone recorded it on a disk, and then the thing got all warped into a single sound from the vinyl being exposed to heat or something. Not quite the verbal confirmation one might want, but Alfur responded nonetheless. “Goodness! This is a…unique form.” She felt something tugging on her upper back, and suddenly wondered that if she were some kind of wild creature, it was more than likely she had fur for Alfur to use as handholds, so to speak. “Strong back, big arms, and…oh, I see you still have fingers. Semi-quadrupelism, I suppose! And…” Hilda didn’t catch the rest, growling low as the troll came closer.

It was as if it were right next to her…but somehow she knew it wasn’t. Turning her head that direction did no good, since she was blind. But she could tell that it was a good four meters away…make that three, two…

“RRRRRAAAUWGH!” Hilda grunted as she leapt aside from a punch, finding that she had not only gone over, but up as well–her legs apparently provided a spring in her step that would give Twig a run for his money. She landed on the ground without being harmed, taking a second to confirm by the steady tug on her fur that Alfur was still with her, and then taking off running through the forest along the path.

How did Hilda know which way to go? At the moment, she couldn’t quite explain it. She couldn’t see, but every other kind of input was super sharp. The ground below her feet and hands (paws?) was about the same, but she could hear each hurried step following her, and the confused growling of the troll. Also a distinctly earthy spell coming off of it; there were four more nearby, and little hints suggested that more trolls may be found deeper into the forest, or maybe that was leftover from those five walking here?

And each branch that passed by, she could almost feel them as she went through the brush. Like how a cat’s whiskers may work, but with more range. Put together, it was like she had a radar telling her where everything was, all without eyes.

But as much as she might like to dabble in this for a bit, there was someone in need of saving. Hilda took off out of the bushes and across the grass, scent trails telling her that there were four trolls bearing down on Ahlberg, who reeked of sweat from sheer terror, most likely…which given his situation, was a fair reaction. She caught trace amounts of a different sweat trail, interspersed with what smelled like lilac shampoo–Gerda, not that Hilda had gotten much of a whiff before now. The important thing was that it led off to the left from the ruined car, so she had likely escaped already. One less person in need of help.

And…Hilda grunted as she got closer–Erik was still ringing the bell. It wasn’t likely the exact same thing, but she better understood the aversion now. So, she immediately leapt into the circle and stood between the trolls and Erik, snatching the bell from his hands and slamming it against the ground. Unexpectedly, she felt the thing bend under the impact–not her intention but impressive nonetheless, and it wouldn’t be ringing anymore. So, perhaps the trolls would go about their business now?

Nope, nope-nope-nope-nope NOPE! Between Erik ringing the bell deliberately for so long and Hilda’s unnerving new form, the Two-Headed Troll was in no mood to shake hands and walk away. She felt a shift in the wind as his hand raised up into a hammer fist, and quick as a flash, she grabbed Ahlberg by his collar and yanked him out of harm’s way. There was a loud THOOM behind her as the fist formed a crater in the dirt, interrupted by her passenger’s incessant barking, “Release me at once, you mangy dog! You blue hound! Freaky wild mutt!”

Hurtful words, but coming from someone like him with no credibility to back it up, they meant very little–she may as well be back in the schoolyard with Trevor, being called a witch for no particular reason. She continued fleeing, a three-legged run with Ahlberg draping from her right hand like a flag on its mast. Sentries at the city gates wouldn’t take kindly to this sight, assuming that they were still open now that the sun was setting. But that wasn’t the only way into the city; she kept running and running until she felt a change in air current and caught the scent of…if onions could have pheromones, that’s how a Vittra would smell.

She turned around as she came upon the edge and skidded down with her back legs bracing the descent, before stopping to take a quick scan. Thundering footsteps told her that one of the trolls was still coming, the Two-Headed one a likely candidate, but he was still far away. The wind currents told her that the tunnel was mostly empty, and the scent placed them in the little hallways leading away from the main corridor.

Part of Hilda wanted to just drop Erik and hightail it out of there (not literally, it even didn’t feel like she had a tail) with Alfur in tow. But he showed signs of injury from being swatted before, and frankly she didn’t trust him not to go barreling back into danger. So along she dragged him, rushing into the depth of the tunnel and following the main path. There was a new wave of smells getting closer: exhaust, garbage, old tarmac–the city was nearby.

Of course, she wouldn’t want to come up in a populated area, so she instead followed a different path, where the wind currents changed but the smell of onions persisted, indicating that Gorrill Gardens was nearby.

And right then and there, her luck ran dry. Flinching a bit as the siren chorus of beeps occurred. She quickly set Ahlberg down and fled to safety; not a scrap of faith remained that he could be trusted to know about this, so it was for the best that he believes a random beast saved him instead of some shapeshifting child.

The slope came into view just as the more terse beeps came to pass, and she leapt onto the grass just as it ended. Things shifted, and she caught the tail-end of a red flash as she stumbled a bit, getting used to walking on two legs again…and seeing. Thankfully it was nighttime now and it was dark, but the city lights in the distance did bother her until her senses readjusted. The complex smells were gone and the sounds had dullened–though not entirely, she’d been told that her hearing was a little stronger than other kids her age.

Just then, she felt her hair shift as Alfur crawled out from the depths and onto her ear again. “Well, that was…exhilerating.” He brushed the dust from his tunic and went on. “As is the case with many of your adventures, Hilda.”

“Well, I guess I do have a way of…” Hilda began, before hearing a labored grunt behind her. She turned to see Gerda scaling the slope, “Easy now, sir.” As she climbed higher, Hilda now saw her half-carrying Ahlberg out, before letting go of him at the zenith and running up to the cyan-haired child. “Hilda! Are you alright? There were trolls, and Head Officer Ahlberg said that the Black Hound apparently showed up…”

“Blue! It was a blue hound!” Erik announced. “And frankly, I’d consider it more of a mutt than anything, with how wildly it behaved.” He picked himself up as Gerda went on, “Regardless, are you hurt in any way? Did that thing come near you?”

“No, I’m fine.” She swallowed, prepared to lie when necessary. “I saw it carrying Officer Ahlberg down in the tunnel, but I ducked aside so that it wouldn’t notice me. And I haven’t seen it since, so maybe it went some other way?” Erik interjected. “No, I’m sure of it. It must’ve come out this way. You must not be remembering correctly, being paralyzed by fear. We’ll have to search the area and trap this beast, before it snatches someone else.” Again with the histrionics, Hilda fought herself not to roll her eyes when he could see her.

“You’re wasting your time.” Another voice rang out. The three looked out to see a man standing by a tree closer to the city. He had neatly-combed short and black hair and fair skin. He wore a brown vest over a white shirt, black pants and shoes, and a white lab coat hanging over his shoulders. Plus a green set of goggles around his neck–Hilda wondered what purpose they may serve?

“I’ve been here for quite a while, and I promise my vision is quite good for it. The ‘wild mutt’ as you put it, you won’t find it around here. You might as well call it a day and revisit this situation tomorrow with fresh eyes.”

Erik scoffed. “You have some nerve telling the Head Officer of Safety Patrol how to do his job!” Meanwhile, Gerda pulled out a flashlight and looked around, narrowing her eyes as she checked the ground. “Hmm, I don’t see any tracks it may have left behind, sir. Maybe it did make a 180º turn and headed back out of the city.”

“Impossible.” Erik remarked. Regardless, exhaustion seemed to be winning out as his shoulders sagged a bit, and for once, he stopped talking. Gerda went on, “In any case, Hilda. It’s well past when school was supposed to let out–allow us to escort you home and apologize to your mother for what’s happened today.” Hilda’s heart sank a bit, before internally reminding herself that Gerda didn’t know any more about that watch than her mum did, so she could still play this off.

Gerda then turned to the strange man. “Would you like an escort as well? I can call in another squad car to take you home.” The man shook his head, pulling out a pocket watch and grimacing. “I’m afraid that I’m a little short on time. It’s faster if I get there by myself, thank you.” He lifted a walking stick from the base of the nearby tree and strolled away.

Chapter Text

Reporter: “This is Linn Jacobsen reporting to the residents of Trolberg this evening. Coming to you live from the scene of a great disturbance just outside of the city walls.”

Hilda rolled her eyes at that. A small part of her had hoped that this would remain quiet, that Ahlberg’s close call during the fight between trolls might humble him, or at least embarrass him enough for him not to call attention to the event. Go figure: it hadn’t done either of those things.

On the TV, Linn Jacobsen stood by the edge of the wall and asked, “Your inspection of the city's defenses revealed quite a few weaknesses, you say?” Erik Ahlberg came onto the screen as well, his right arm hanging in a sling from an apparent dislocation from that one troll. He responded in kind, “Indeed, it did. Including a hidden network of tunnels under the wall. But the Safety Patrol shall fill in each and every one in the coming weeks. No trolls will be tunneling into our city on my watch!”

In his typical dramatic way, he took the microphone from the reporter’s hand as he spoke, until Hilda finally muted it with a groan. “The truth is that today, on his watch, Ahlberg almost got himself eaten by a troll.”

To her right on the armrest, Alfur sat in a pile of paperwork, finishing up the work in the notebook currently in his not-hands. “We elves pride ourselves on the accuracy of our historical records. So you can rest assured that my report will give a true accounting of today's events, which shall be widely read among elfkind.”

Hilda smiled a bit at that as she turned off the TV set. “Well, at least a bunch of tiny, invisible people will know the truth.” Of course, that wouldn’t affect the grand scheme of Trolberg–elves wished to maintain their secrecy, and that meant that this report wouldn’t reach the city government unless whoever-in-charge decided that it was important enough to risk exposure.

And that brought up another point. Hilda waited until Alfur finished writing in his current notebook and set it down, before bringing up the part that concerned her. “Speaking of the truth, what about…the other thing we talked about? The watch and the paperwork you wanted?” Alfur looked up at her, a bit of unease present in his body language, but he nodded anyway. “Right.” He gathered up the loose-leaf paperwork around and selected the correct document. “You’re certain that this is the right thing to do? Forgive me, but it seems a bit counterintuitive.”

Hilda nodded. “Just until I can get a firm handle on this watch. She’s got enough on her plate already–freaky watches that turn me into creatures isn’t exactly her strong suit, anyway. It would just do more harm than good.”

After Gerda had walked her home, she had indeed given an official account of the day’s events that she understood–which didn’t include any knowledge or suspicion about the watch–with a slight bias in Erik’s favor and a formal apology for the way things transpired. And Johanna’s reaction had done little to assuage Hilda’s concerns about the whole thing; she didn’t seem angry or disappointed, more like the same forced optimism after their cabin had been destroyed. Like, she saw no reason to make a big deal, but Hilda could tell that she still would rather it not have happened.

Arriving late had left her mum too distracted and worried to focus on dinner preparation in the meantime, so they had eaten takeout food for dinner that night. And the stress had called for a long bubble bath to help calm Johanna’s nerves, leaving a decent gap for Hilda and Alfur to take care of a little bit of business away from prying eyes.

Hilda picked up Alfur and walked over to her mum’s writing desk, pulling the magnifying glass to the center as a sheet of paper was put down. For an elf to keep a secret like this, from someone who was their roommate and regarded as a friend (or perhaps family, but Hilda was too shy to ask, should it cross some unspoken boundary), there of course had to be paperwork. In this case, it was something called a non-disclosure agreement, and even then Alfur had been reluctant to draw it up, both from concerns in ethics and legality…since they technically should’ve signed this before he found out. But overlooking that was doable.

“Alright.” Alfur spoke, gesturing with his not-hands to the various clauses and whatnots on the paper. “This acknowledges you as the individual disclosing party and myself as the individual receiving party. Confidential information is defined as ‘anything relating to the watch as a shapeshifting/magical apparatus or the like of you taking on different forms as a result of it.’ Any and all information you disclose to Johanna or anyone else will be unbound from the agreement.”

He gazed up at her. “In Layman’s terms, whatever you tell your mum to maintain this secret, I will of course back it up as best I can.”

“Thank you.” She whispered as the elf turned back to the paper. “This information is to be kept from Johanna or any other person who may relay with her, and must only be used in reports that will remain confidential to the Huldufolk bureaucracy, not the populace in general due to the possibility of disclosure to Johanna. Duration will last until the disclosing party–you–signs a document to permit the release, which will render this document null and void. Any verbal indication that disclosure will be permitted, is tolerated, provided that the disclosing party signs an additional testimony afterward acknowledging that it was an intentional easement and that charges will not be pressed.”

He turned back to Hilda. “In short, this information goes in the private reports until further notice, not for public access.”

Hilda nodded. “Again, thank you.” After having told her mum that there was a small elf village near Gorrill Gardens separate from the Lost Clan, she couldn’t help but picture them meeting her and spilling the beans in an innocuous attempt at small talk, and it wasn’t right or practical to sign whatever papers that could somehow make every elf adhere to an NDA. Alfur went on. “And it also means that whenever you decide to tell Johanna or whoever, please don’t include me in the conversation unless you sign the document first, or I’ll need to have you promise not to sue. Not that I think you would, just…”

“I get it. That’s fair enough.” Hilda knew that Alfur was already well outside of his comfort zone, personally and professionally, even without the added stress of living under the same roof as the person from whom Hilda was trying to keep this information. “So, can we sign now?”

“Yep! Just here…and here…and here.” Hilda followed suit as she put her signatures where they were required, corresponding with Alfur’s own. Soon it was finished, Alfur tucking the thing away in a folder. “But off the record, Hilda…” he let a little more nervous show through his expression. “...knowing you, it won’t be terribly long before you figure this out. This document means going to a lot of trouble to manage this illusion, so…” he rubbed the back of his head before going on, “...for your sake and ours, please try not to wait longer than necessary.”

Gratitude, confidence, guilt, anxiety–all of Hilda’s mixed feelings only deepened as she watched Alfur hop across the shelves, and make his way to his clock house on her bedroom shelf. He was right, she couldn’t deny it. This was a lot of trouble, twisting his hardly-straightforwards-in-the-first-place job into something even more complicated, and all of it to hide a strange device she hardly understood.

She couldn’t help but mutter to herself. “I have to make sure that it’s worth it.”